[footfootfoot]

When I was in France, in 1985 there were a few things that stood out to me.
First was how filthy Paris was. (In comparison to NYC , my point of reference) People just dropped their trash as though mom were right behind them.

You could easily spot the metro stations by the thousands of discarded yellow tickets on the ground right around the entrance. It was as if the staircase was vomiting up yellow tickets and hadn't wiped it's face. Looking back on it, I wonder if the riders somehow felt contaminated by the thought of holding the ticket any longer than was absolutely necessary.

The second thing was how politically active the yutes were. (ages 18-28) e.g. (this is a simulated exchange)
a: Hey there's a demonstration tonight over in the 15th arrondisment wanna go?
b: What are we demonstrating against?
a: The standard weight of a baguette has changed from 550gm to 500gm.
b: The batards! I'll be there.

Rocks were thrown, wine was drunk, barricades torched and the next day everything was exactly the same.

Cherbourg was very different.

In both places I failed to detect the hostility that is usually ascribed to the Frentch. (Again, cf NYC)

One thing in my favor was that I had a few weeks of intensive accent drills courtesy of my employer, an American who had spent a decade in paris and could speak perfect French but was illiterate in French.

When I found out I was going to France (another long story) he said to me "you haven't got time to learn to speak, but you do have time to work on your accent, so for the next four weeks we'll speak English, but with a French accent. That way, any French you learn will sound right."

So for the next four weeks before my trip we spoke all day at work in French accents. He would not teach me to say "I don't speak french" He said that phrase was a dead end. Rather he taught me "Je ne comprend pas" Because of my awesomely accurate accent the upshot was that people thought I was either hard of hearing or mildly retarded. No one ever spoke English to me.

A FOAF I was visiting was an American who was teaching French in France, that is how good her French was. When we went out, the French would routinely answer her in English, me in French.

Anyway, that is my France story, as much as you're gonna get anyway.

But they love to drink, but not get drunk, they like to be politically active but not accomplish anything, and they like them some food.

In baser chakra terms, it's all about the foreplay. Orgasm? I've had mine, you're on your own. (metaphorically speaking, of course)