A Adventurous Night in Fontvieille
Experiences in various parts of the world enrich one’s life over the years. An occasion like today deserves a little reminiscing. And since I’m not capable of time travel, I’ll share with you my adventures from yesterday, which took place in the village of Fontvieille.
Fontvieille, 2024. July 13.
Exactly a year ago, at the same party, a beer cost two euros, now it’s three euros; a 33% increase in one year. Quite something. I had a total of five beers, consumed from ten in the evening until one in the morning. (Here, one beer means one glass, not a pitcher.) I’m in the neighboring village of Fontvieille. Tomorrow is a national holiday in France, so there was a party in the village today. I danced a lot, alone, and quite spectacularly. I had a great time, that’s what matters.
On the way home, if the car behind me hadn’t illuminated the road with its headlights, I might have only noticed the wild boar, which reached up to my waist, at the last moment before braking.
Speaking of yesterday, the evening train to Avignon was delayed, and it ended with them not sending a taxi or a bus for us, but eventually bringing another train from somewhere. So, the story started there last night, or rather, it was left hanging that I set off for home from the theater festival on the last train, but the last train – I don’t know exactly, perhaps due to a technical issue – was canceled. The station staff couldn’t figure out what to do with the twenty-five people who wanted to go home in the city of Arles. At first, they said we’d take a taxi or they’d call a taxi and we’d go home by taxi or some small bus; then twenty minutes later, the cancellation was changed to a delay. By the way, when they said we’d have to wait for more than fifty minutes, they automatically asked everyone who was hungry and who was thirsty, and gave out a little sandwich and a drink.
It was almost one in the morning when we arrived in Arles, where there were parties in several places in the city. I found my scooter – almost completely drained. I thought either I’d walk the entire way home, or I’d roll so slowly as if I were walking. So, it will be five in the morning by the time I go to bed; because of this, I walked past the charming dance floors with closed ears and a bowed head.
I rolled slowly on the sporadically occurring flat sections, and walked up the slight inclines. Then in Fontvieille, I left the scooter in a parking lot with a five percent charge. Then I continued walking. Ironically, on other nights when I didn’t need a ride, the cars would stop next to me, but now I hitchhiked – in front of six cars – and none stopped.
I sat down in my room at four forty-five. Dawn was already breaking. The clock rang at half past eight. Luckily, there was nothing strenuous today.
In the afternoon, I took the bus back for the scooter, had a cookie, and then came back with the next one. So, it was a normal evening; I helped the pastry chef in the afternoon, and in the morning, I mostly helped the pastry chef. I’m starting to not sympathize with this guy somehow; he’s a kind, normal guy, but to me, it’s strange for someone to be kind to everyone; I don’t think he’s sincere, maybe not even to himself; I think he has issues.
I finished reading a book about the Holocaust and a book about democracy, and now I’ve started another one titled “Alternative Facts.” The night walk was good for this, as the robotic woman read the e-book to me.
