Spring Break Special: France Trip
Allright fellas,
you think coming home from your exchange semester means coming back to hard life and switching your attention from partying, travelling and, let’s be honest, the one or other beer, to things like university and earning money? Well, I have to admit, you are probably not entirely wrong with that – so I spent eight weeks in a muggy office at the Frankfurt Peace Research Centre and did something about peacekeeping troops. But: Afterwards I needed a little reward of course. So Petra (who needed a reward as well after some hard exams) and me decided to go for a little trip. Matze, you know, how the stories ended in Uppsala, when we spontaneously began to talk about a “little trip”. Well, some things never change… . (First, a few pics to come…)
South France in Petra’s parents’ groovy VW-van from 1980 – that was the plan. We started with a first night in Lausanne (Swiss) at the house of my good old friend Michael, who is a Swiss and talks likes that. Of course he made his fantastic and legendary “Raclett” for us, which is a Swiss delicacy made of melted cheese. You can imagine that something like that is not an easy exercise for the average stomach so we had to help our’s a little with some good wine and “Schnaps” – great evening with great fun, thanx Michael (as well for the headache)!
Our first destination was the Provence: Snow-covered mountains, deep canyons and forgotten villages where young playboys sit in tiny street cafés for the whole day drinking Café au lait and pensioners spend their retirement playing boul at the village’s main square. Of course we were also keen on some outdoor-activity: So we climbed Mount Ventoux, 1909 metres high and a legend for every Tour de France-fan (and god knows, I am one). Moreover Petra decided one early morning to go swimming at Lac du Saint Croix. Well, the damned thing is approximately - 35 degrees Celcius cold (sooooooo kalt!) – but of course I had to come with her. Fuck you, ego!
After our mountain-adventures we had some relaxed days at the coast, found out that I am neither able to set up a BBQ nor to distinguish between oil and vinegar when it comes to roast some Swabian “Maultaschen”. Sorry, Baby, but from now on you have to care about those things I guess! However: We had sun. Much sun. And got burned. (Then we bought a sun creme and it started to rain.)
During the last days we forced our oldtimer over some high mountain passes into the heart of the Pyrenees: Andorra. Which pretty much sucks by the way: Because of the low taxes the whole area is a true buyer’s paradise with shops for everything and a considerable high Porsche-density. As it behoves travelling students to do we escaped the bourgeoisie as soon as possible and camped at a desolate Spanish mountain lake. The trip ended with star-spangled skies up ahead and Bruce Springsteen in our ears. Earm, Ok … and a 30 hours-drive back.
At the corner of you lips, as the orbit of your hips, eclipse, you elevate my soul,
Cfö.
you think coming home from your exchange semester means coming back to hard life and switching your attention from partying, travelling and, let’s be honest, the one or other beer, to things like university and earning money? Well, I have to admit, you are probably not entirely wrong with that – so I spent eight weeks in a muggy office at the Frankfurt Peace Research Centre and did something about peacekeeping troops. But: Afterwards I needed a little reward of course. So Petra (who needed a reward as well after some hard exams) and me decided to go for a little trip. Matze, you know, how the stories ended in Uppsala, when we spontaneously began to talk about a “little trip”. Well, some things never change… . (First, a few pics to come…)
South France in Petra’s parents’ groovy VW-van from 1980 – that was the plan. We started with a first night in Lausanne (Swiss) at the house of my good old friend Michael, who is a Swiss and talks likes that. Of course he made his fantastic and legendary “Raclett” for us, which is a Swiss delicacy made of melted cheese. You can imagine that something like that is not an easy exercise for the average stomach so we had to help our’s a little with some good wine and “Schnaps” – great evening with great fun, thanx Michael (as well for the headache)!
Our first destination was the Provence: Snow-covered mountains, deep canyons and forgotten villages where young playboys sit in tiny street cafés for the whole day drinking Café au lait and pensioners spend their retirement playing boul at the village’s main square. Of course we were also keen on some outdoor-activity: So we climbed Mount Ventoux, 1909 metres high and a legend for every Tour de France-fan (and god knows, I am one). Moreover Petra decided one early morning to go swimming at Lac du Saint Croix. Well, the damned thing is approximately - 35 degrees Celcius cold (sooooooo kalt!) – but of course I had to come with her. Fuck you, ego!
After our mountain-adventures we had some relaxed days at the coast, found out that I am neither able to set up a BBQ nor to distinguish between oil and vinegar when it comes to roast some Swabian “Maultaschen”. Sorry, Baby, but from now on you have to care about those things I guess! However: We had sun. Much sun. And got burned. (Then we bought a sun creme and it started to rain.)
During the last days we forced our oldtimer over some high mountain passes into the heart of the Pyrenees: Andorra. Which pretty much sucks by the way: Because of the low taxes the whole area is a true buyer’s paradise with shops for everything and a considerable high Porsche-density. As it behoves travelling students to do we escaped the bourgeoisie as soon as possible and camped at a desolate Spanish mountain lake. The trip ended with star-spangled skies up ahead and Bruce Springsteen in our ears. Earm, Ok … and a 30 hours-drive back.
At the corner of you lips, as the orbit of your hips, eclipse, you elevate my soul,
Cfö.
posted by Petra & Christian at 10:25 PM
2 Comments:
Sounds like great fun my friend.
Good to know that you had a)some very good company, b)some good music and c)hell, what a fuckin' cool car!
And by the way - fuck the "little trips" - the journey is the reward!
Next beer is to you my friend...
C.R. Matze
:) agree!
But the great 'bus' is from 79, not from 80. don't steal the old boy a year my luv!!
Petra
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