No Blue in France.

This week is an easier week for me here in France. Easy weeks are dangerous buisness, as there is the potential to go stir crazy. Im not one that likes waking up and having nothing to accomplish throughout the course of the day, so this leads me to have to fill my time with something when the bike demands only a few hours a day.

Ive been having a hard time sleeping as of late. Wether this is from too much on my mind, or too much time at the coffee shop I dont know. Most likely its a combination of both.

As mentioned, in France they dont have coffee shops per se....just bars that happen to serve coffee. I have carved a spot in a couple of small bars here in Flers, and each has its own unique characteristics and benefits.

One is the 'happin' spot in town I guess you could say. Its right in the center of town and it draws a lot of the youth of the town. the atmosphere is good, and the coffee ok. I always feel at odds with the manager though. In realilty, I only go for coffee and the odd beer which doesnt amount to much money spent at once. The fact I dont speak French seems to make it difficult for everyone and sometimes it seems like Im the odd ball of the place.

(The Old Man Bar)

The other place I know as the 'Old Man Bar'. Its a small place tucked away in the corner of Flers. I call it the old man bar as there is only old men and sketchy Turks that go there. The bartender is a solid guy. Ive never been able to have a real conversation with him obviously, but I noticed one day his hands were that of a working mans hands in a former life. This guy would have no use for something as silly as a pair of oven mits. In my mind I picture him tending a farm or being a mechanic and giving it all up one day to open up HIS bar, accomlishing his dream after a lifetime of manual labour.

The coffee is cheap and the beer is good here.

Of course the hip bar seems to draw in the few attractive women that Flers has. Its nice to sit and simply hear people talk who are your age. So here is the draw back, Do I go to the place with the cute gals and the sketchy Turks, or the place with the unreal bartender with the old men and the sketchy Turks?

Either way I cant talk with anyone, so in reality it doesnt matter. I guess varition is the spice of life when it comes down to it. A bar to suit your mood when the mood strikes. When you only know how to order one type of coffee and one type of beer, consistant change in scenery becomes very important.