Le Franco Phoney

I remember as a teenager, when my form of rebellion was to enjoy going shopping with my mum, being totally disgusted by a good friend who I’d gone shopping with (Mum was busy that day) who had stolen a poster while I remained totally unaware walking out of the shop with her. I was angry that she involved me by association, and I just didn’t understand her need to steal it, then show off about it when we met friends on the bus home.

Yes, I was the goody-two-shoes kid at school, who never smoked dope, never stole anything, and never wagged school. The only detention I had was thanks to Luke who decided put chalk dust in my hair from a blackboard duster. With equality in mind, I did the same thing back to him and the teacher sent us both for detention. Luke, if you’re reading, you’re responsible for ruining my otherwise perfect record at school.

However, things seem to have taken a tumble recently when I helped a French friend steal. Yes, I aided a thief. He wanted dirt, and he knew a place where he could find it – a public park. Granted, the dirt had recently been dumped there by someone else, and my French friend assured me that it wasn’t stealing since he was merely reusing something that someone no longer wanted. When I suggested he could just buy some, he refused, saying that the mountains are full of dirt, and that he only needed a few square metres. So, we trundled off in his car and I directed him into parking his car for easy dirt loading.

While I waited for him to shovel dirt, a man walked past with a dog and said hello. Then a lady stared at us from a distance, and I was sure she would call the police. Seeing I was worried, my friend suggested he come back later without me, so we left with just a little dirt. He joked as we drove further away that a blue car was behind him — could it be the police? To be honest, I’m not even sure I should be writing about this just in case the police hunt me down and demand answers.

My friend went back later for more dirt. He told me that a whole group of school children went past, with the teacher saying hello politely. A guy on a quad bike rode by while the teacher tried to get the kids to stop running away. A teenager also walked past looking scared, which my friend attributed to the teenager imagining there was a dead body or something in the dirt. Thankfully, there was no body, and I’m hoping that my goody-two-shoes reputation can be restored quickly. I’ve tried to help that along immediately after with a charity donation, while my dirt-loving friend donated a spare mattress to the homeless. Maybe a guilty conscience is a good thing!

Now that the sun has finally arrived after months of rain and even some snow on the peaks of La Clusaz last week, Annecy is getting excited about the Winter Olympics. Annecy is one of the three final candidates for the 2018 Winter Olympics, so to celebrate officially, Annecy laid out some winter sports for people to try — sans snow.

Pictured is the massive ramp for skiers to slide down and try flips, twists and backward landings. No worries if you can’t ski: there were some giant inflatable rings for zooming down the ramp on instead. Kids and adults were all keen to try the ramp, with ski boots and skis available for use. There was one guy who, according to his mates, was going to try a double back-flip, except he leant back too far at the moment of take-off and bumped the back of his helmet-clad head onto the ramp before falling in a heap on the inflatable cushion. I think the impact knocked his helmet off completely, as it was nowhere to be seen. Paramedics put him in a neck brace and carted him off. Regardless, the queue of people to try the ramp grew while they waited for the paramedics to clear the area. I think it would have put me off, but I’m not very Savoyarde I guess.

Other highlights of the day included various French celebrities dotted around being interviewed by news reporters, a hot air balloon with the Annecy 2018 logo on it wafting past, a stage with lots of entertainment, a whole swag of local food to try, and of course, some other winter sports.

Apart from the ski ramp, there was a cross-country ski track — made of plastic so that the hot summer day didn’t melt any snow. I can think of nothing more boring than forcing my feet into ski boots on a warm day, then attaching skis, then putting those skis into blue plastic tracks like reverse railway tracks, and moving my feet along. However, the kids seemed to love it, so again, it’s probably because I’m not very Savoyarde.

The luge looked like fun. Yes, there was a luge! It too functioned without actual real snow. It used wheels on rails set in concrete to keep the luge on the short flat track. The kids loved it too. To top it all off, BMX courses were set up for different levels of ability, which, of course, the kids also loved. I have no idea what BMX biking has to do with the Olympics but nobody there was complaining.

Pictured are a few musicians outside the old prison walls of Annecy, smack bang in the centre of town. No, it’s not a prison anymore, but I bet the prisoners would have loved to have heard the music back when it was (and maybe the hot raclette cheese sandwich I was eating while watching the band play). So, why were musicians set up outside this picturesque spot in Annecy? Because Monday was the Fête de la Musique — the annual event throughout France where musicians play to crowds in the streets, parks and anywhere else they fit. Rather than waffle on about it, here are some of this year’s highlights:

• A woman with bagpipes walking around casually as if everyone carries bagpipes.
• A dog totally oblivious to the thrash metal happening on stage because he couldn’t take his eyes off the ball at his owner’s feet.
• A flirty moment between teenagers who were both too shy to do anything more than flirt while a band played on the stage in front of them. He reluctantly left with his friends. She watched him leave, blushing.
• An opportunistic street performer with a diabolo (piece of string with a cylindrical thing to balance on it) who looked like it was his first time trying out the equipment. A small crowd of disbelievers had gathered.
• A reggae band headed by a guy with a #2 head shave (he sounded properly reggae though).
• Bottles of ‘orange juice’ being shared by teenagers who were eager to drink – what good kids!
• A mosh pit/circle that was started by those same teenagers with all that goodness of fresh orange juice in their blood. Lovely to see teenagers working off some of that juice through exercise.

The French region of Var this week suffered their worst flash flooding in almost 200 years. At least 25 people have died, and the animal count is much higher. President Sarkozy has declared a national disaster, and fittingly, it was the first headline reported on last night’s news. Each night when the headlines are over, some of those headlines are looked at in more detail. And last night, the first headline discussed in more detail was the other national disaster — France’s loss to Mexico in the World Cup. The news reader discussed it in depth with some photogenic hunk who played for France in the previous World Cup. Only when they had exhausted talking over each other, watching reruns of footballer Thierry Henry looking upset on the sidelines, and the French coach speaking slower French than I do at the press conference after their loss did the news reader move onto the flash flooding. Life loss through natural disaster? Pfft: let’s talk first about the football eh. Incidentally, the next in-depth story involved the President’s visit to London to mark the 70th anniversary of Charles de Gaulle’s momentous war-time speech urging the French to resist the Nazis. Allez les bleus!

To see just how severe the floods have been, check out the following news report (death toll already out of date).

On a walk through St Jean de Sixt yesterday, I noticed the garden scene below. Something’s a bit NQR (Not Quite Right), right? That’s not a real person! That’s not a real café either. The donkey is only two-dimensional. And, in fact, that’s a fake house there in the background. Let me explain.

These are just some of the props that used to grace the St Jean de Sixt roundabout at different times of the year. The guy who used to put the mannequins on the roundabout together with the corresponding props is obviously missing his roundabout antics, and is now turning his attentions to creating scenes away from the roundabout, closer to his house.

I had walked past a week earlier one evening and I saw a scene full of life — minus the actual life. The red mannequin dude in the background hadn’t moved, but there were chairs and tables populated by mannequins (including the one with the hat right in front of the camera, watching the scene from a distance while he was gardening at night). Apparently, mannequins party at night.

It might sound silly, but it’s a real treat to walk past this area in St Jean and watch the scene change over time. Security cameras and fences aren’t needed here, and that’s what I truly love. The mannequins have not been undressed, the donkey has not been turned upside down or stolen, and the fake café has no graffiti. I heart rural living.

It’s that time of year again, when movie buffs, media students and animation geeks from all over the world swarm to Annecy for the week-long International Annecy Animation Film Festival. This year, the fashion seems to be badges on bags, although I did see one guy sporting his badges all over his jeans. Yes, his jeans were entirely covered in badges.

The festival is great fun, with outdoor freebie screenings most nights of the week, and lots of animation styles to keep everyone happy. I favour the shorts: a movie-length screening of around six or more short animations. That ten minutes or so when people are entering the cinema involves more than just a hum of chatter: it’s an opportunity to throw lots of paper planes. So, on top of walking up stairs while scanning the rows of people for a few empty seats, you also need to dodge the papers zooming around the room. Long paper plane flights get a round of applause and a cheer! I saw one guy last night collecting as many as he could from the aisle beside him to relaunch, while the guy in front of me ripped off another sheet from his notebook to start folding another plane.

In fact, the planes are so common at the festival, that they’re an integral part of this year’s animated trailer for the festival, which you can watch below (and yes, that’s the actual cinema at the end).

Thankfully, the planes stop flying as soon as the first animation starts. However, between animations, the “done thing” is to make a popping sound with your mouth. You know, when you were a kid and you’d stick a finger inside your mouth near your cheek, then flick it out to make a pop? That’s the sound that gets made between movies. This is a whole separate set of cultural norms that seem to exist in Annecy purely for the animation festival.

I guess it was nice to escape some aspects of French culture for the evening, but by the time I left that cinema, I was looking forward to a crepe and seeing men in stripy shirts and berets riding bikes with baguettes under their arms and saying “ooh la la” a lot to the background sounds of a piano accordion.

So, a few weeks ago, I challenged my readers to travel in their own backyard. I took my own advice on the weekend and managed to visit something in La Clusaz, Le Grand Bornand and Annecy all in one day. In La Clusaz, some moto trials were taking place, and I snapped the photo below. The precision was amazing.

Meanwhile, in Le Grand Bornand, the local fire station was open. I thought it might be interesting, but I was scared off by all the pompier (fireman) recruitment advertisements on posters and a big television screen. As I scurried past without stepping in, I noticed these fire engines (pictured) open for people to check out. Mostly, this involved kids tooting the horns while their dads grabbed a beer at the beer tent. In fact, do you see the blue tent in the photo above? Booze tent. It seems that all sorts of events — from sporting to family — understand the importance of a beer tent. Fair enough: people get thirsty, but the fire station was holding an open morning. People were boozing on even before midday struck! It was a warm day so I guess the thirst excuse might cut it.

It was so warm, in fact, that I headed down to Annecy to test out a long board at the Fete du Nautisme, where all sorts of manual water-floating transport was available to try. This is the sport that, I’m told, Jennifer Anniston loves for keeping in shape, and who am I to deny her that right? I can see how it’s a leg workout, with my legs wobbling with the waves under the board I was standing on, but the real workout came for my arms, with lots of paddling to get anywhere on such a big board. I enjoyed it for the tranquility and the acceptable risk of falling in the cold water if I lost my balance (which I didn’t!). Lots of fun, and no beer tent in sight. This could be another sport to add to the list.

So, what have you seen in your backyard in the past few weeks?

Okay, we’re all familiar with the dog in a bag fashion statement, but that’s for the likes of Paris Hilton, right? Wrong. If your image of a dog in a bag is one of a white fluffy thing in a bling bag on an equally bling shoulder, think again.

Yesterday, a friend in my car snapped this photo of a dog in a bag. Yes, that fluffy blur is actually a black poodle, but we couldn’t catch up to the tough guy on the chopper-style motorbike because he was whizzing around so fast. So, here’s the blur instead, and you’ll just have to trust me on this one. Not only is that a dog in his bag, but it’s a bit of a pink bag for a dude in black on a slick motorbike. Could it be his girlfriend’s dog in a bag? Has he been asked to transport said dog from one location to another? And since it comes with it’s own handy carry-case, perhaps he just popped the girly bag over his shoulders and started up his engine. Who knows.

Now, my friend mentioned that she had just seen a twin-dog bag in Leipzig on a goth who was on his way to a goth festival  happening there last weekend. He was all decked out in a ‘romantic’ goth outfit, which apparently consisted of black, plus white ruffles—kind of lucky considering both dogs were white. They matched his outfit. Dog-in-a-bag fashion continues! Apparently, they were well behaved. I’m guessing they know that their owner is a goth and are so scared he might dye their hair black too that they’re as good as gold when he’s around.

Meanwhile, summertime in the Alps signals the start of dog-in-a-bag season. A few years ago at the Fete du Reblochon in La Clusaz, I saw this (sunburnt) lady checking the dog in a backpack  on her partner’s back. Did they perhaps start the non-bling dog-in-a-backpack alternative to the bling dog-in-a-bag fashion? Again, who knows. What I do know is that the dog on the motorbike seemed pretty relaxed about the whole thing. His mate in La Clusaz, on the other hand, seemed a bit embarrassed. Black motorbike dog is cool.