Some Random Thoughts About the French, Italians and Swiss We have now spent a month in Europe during which we have spent most of our time in Italy, France and Switzerland. During that time, and with no apologies for my superficiality, I have realized one thing about the Italians, French and Swiss: the clichés and stereotypes, if not entirely correct, certainly possess more than a modicum of truth. So, to today’s rant. The French It is a cliché that the French are arrogant. Certainly they are, even by Australian standards (and we set the bar pretty bloody low), rude in most social situations. They push ahead in queues; automatically expect to be served first even when they arrived last; drive with a casual disregard for anyone other than themselves; and, amusingly, in restaurants, bars and hotels will offer service which is so casual you will think they don’t want to do business with you. As a nationality they provoke a Russell Crowe response. They all seem to be saying “Whatever!”, just like that infamous kid on reception in the Mercer Hotel in New York. And at times, just like Our Russell, you want to pick up the nearest telephone and throw it at them I don’t think the French are actually arrogant. I think they are driven by a deeply held indifference to everything. They simply do not care what other people – even French people – think of them. Is that a lack of ego or an overwhelming sense of entitlement and self-belief? Who knows? What else is wrong with the French? Well, let’s say the dog shit problem is still appalling although friends tell me it is getting better. It has a long way to go. The tolls on the roads are very, very close to usury. From Annecy to the Swiss border is 14 km and costs 7.20 euros. That’s a euro for every 2 km. Such pricing is beneath contempt and worthy of outrage. Smash through the barriers. Hit a gendarme. Learn the value of “cochon” and use it frequently. The Italians Well they are loveable because elegance, la dolce vita and sheer vitality drive their every impulse. They smoke too much; drive too fast; have a casual indifference to the occasional bump such that most cars look as though they would be greatly improved by a week in the body repair shop; and allow far too many tourists wander over their most precious and priceless possessions. And the Swiss Well,, yes, the cliché is true. They are ridiculously neat and tidy. Even the cows in the perfectly manicured fields look as though they wipe their bottoms every time they void their bowels. There is no graffiti in Switzerland; no illegality (apart from finance); no shouting and yelling; no passion; no soul. It is, as Billy Connolly would say, a beige country. It provokes a strange impulse. You want to shout: “Where’s the dirt, the untidiness, the shabbiness, the poverty, the hardship?” It makes normal people perverse. Mind you, they really do make sensational chocolate ... so much can be forgiven. Lest people take exception to my observations, let me just say: “These are personal and superficial observations. I am ready to go home, gaze over the Pacific, and like Odysseus, have my old dog recognize me after a long absence.” Here are a few favourite photos: • This poor statue in Munich is a wry comment on human frailty. They just can’t resist. A quick fondle of the bronze. • My favourite moment of the entire trip: the remarkable Medieval celebration – the Giostra del Sarancino at Citta di Arezzo – truly unforgettable. • And the rarest of rare moments – me in long trousers in Lucca. Not a situation I enjoy ... but I am smiling.
Posted on: Wed, 24 Sep 2014 18:14:05 +0000