...In A Fiat

Le Chateau de Rouen
(Joan of Arc Imprisoned Here)

I had no idea when I arrived here that I would be taking a road trip through France.  My sweet ride was a pocket-sized Fiat, which I'm sure ran much more on puppy power than horse power.  Despite her resistance to inclines and accelerating, we still managed to have some grand adventures... and misadventures.

To start, tolls here are expensive.  Really expensive.  These tolls became a primary source of anxiety for me, as I managed to screw them up nearly every time.  I first discovered the differences between the toll lanes by choosing the lane meant for those with permanent toll cards.  This was not super delightful, as I ultimately had to back all the way out, pitifully trying to explain my mistake to the toll operator and everyone behind me.  I can just imagine what they were thinking of the bozo American, "Why the hell is she so pink??"  When I finally made my way into the appropriate lane, I was chagrined to learn that the toll wouldn't accept an American credit card.  ANY American credit card.  Cash only, s'il vous plait.  Fortunately, I had barely enough to get through, but enough all the same.  Unfortunately the machine wouldn't consistently accept my cash.  Not even my coins.  At this point, a kind woman behind me got out to try to help, and we managed to shove enough in to get me and my increasingly irritable bowels out of there.

Cathedrale Notre Dame de Bayeux

I knew I needed to find more cash, because what in the world would I do in the same situation the next time?  I made my way into the nearest town, and spoke with another kindly French woman who directed me to the nearest ATM.  Fresh euros in hand, my frazzled nerves began to settle when I realized I had gotten through by speaking French.  Or maybe more importantly, understanding enough to figure things out.  I tried to be intentional about recognizing the opportunity to pat myself on the back instead of berating myself for making all the mistakes in the first place, which is my tendency.  Sigh.

Annnnd, another castle, Rest Stop

Over the course of my days with Fiat, I covered some serious distance, including mountain ranges, historical sites, and even a dormant volcano.  There's no shortage of things to see, as there are even prehistoric dolmens at rest stops in France.  I was intentional about disconnecting the GPS  every so often, as I maintain getting lost is often the best way to learn a new place.  I tend to think we find the most worthwhile little nooks and people and places when we're not looking for them, and usually, on the less-travelled path.

Le Mont St.Michel

In my pursuit of these hidden places I inevitably became disoriented multiple times, drove in circles around fields of sunflowers, and even managed to get beeped at by an otherwise oh-so-placid Frenchmen.  At the end of my trip, I realized it was exactly these experiences, the getting lost, and asking for help, and ruffling feathers that were of most value and taught me the most.  Joseph Campbell said,  "People say that what we are all seeking is meaning for life.  I don’t think this is what we’re really seeking.  I think what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive."  I couldn't agree more.