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"Le Havre, France" ?Posted by devon on Wednesday, June 29, 2005


Somewhere in a northern french port, an unshaven foreign young man walks aimlessly through the forgotten empty spaces between a confusing jumble of transport routes.

Its strange to remember the way people look at you when your walking down the side of a road that clearly isnt meant to be walked on.

I've had a very interesting first day. Everything is coming back to me. I couldn't help chuckling to myself as I waved back at a woman looking worryingly at me through a ground floor office window. She worked in the port authority reception and had arranged for a taxi to take me to the shipping office that I had asked after. I remembered as I got into the vehicle that something about my face and my demeanor seemingly gives women an undeniable desire to mother me, a suspicion that has worked to my benefit countless times over the past few years.

The most vivid recollection is how much of all of my travelling success relies completely and wholley on the kindness of others.

I was planning on a detailed description of how my day has panned out thus far, but considering that I am ready to turn this god-forsaken french keyboard into an electronic casserole through means of extreme violence, I think not. They have been less rude than expected, but I still find the insatiable desire to develop completely different systems for common things a distinctly infuriating characteristic of the french nation. Ironic that as the brits celebrate the 200th anneversary of the battle of the trafalger, I am forced to lament a failed attempt to rule the world. Old ideas and historical hang-ups are so boring and counterproductive.


On the other hand, thank fuck for the metric system.

On another page, it turns out I speak french! This is odd considering i dont remember learning it at school (was permanently kicked out of the entire french program for humiliating my teacher on a daily basis) and only really spent a few weeks in french speaking places on my trip.

strange, but helpful.

strange, but wonderful.

For the sake of my own sanity, here is my day in list format:

patchy, fitfull sleep aboard a p&o ferry across the english channel, broken up with pisstake amongst the crew members.

announce my presence at the port authority, and establish at least the 500th mother on my trip.

Get driven by a taxi driver to security, who sends me somewhere else. I give everybody a hard time (body language can be devastating) due to the taxi meter continuing to run.

Finally get past security and dropped off by the now crestfallen taxi driver. he pouts and takes 50 cents off my fare. a small victory.

I meet my man, mr. Boyanvalle, with a chest like a bear and a face like a hawk he jokingly pretends not to speak english.

He lets me leave my bag at the office and tells me to phone him at 22 00. its time to go to town.

Wander like a true vegabond through the byways of the industrial trading purgatory that is Le Harve port before ending up at bustop with an intimidatingly large, costumed west african man.

I observe the strangely located rundown shanties that appear to be a small oasis of humanity amongst a sea of lifeless industrialisation. The broken windows, prams, and multiple children on single bicycles prove this to be true, and i begin to be nervous.

The bus arrives, and carries me half dozing to the center of town, where I wander to a park and fall asleep under a tree reading a short story by Marquez.

I end up eating, then going to an internet cafe, where I have just realised that i have been completely and utterly theiving of another mans writing style.

Worse crimes have been committed.

For instance this fucking keyboard.

I've had enough.

I'll (hopefully) be jumping on this banana boat this evening, arriving in martinique in around 11 days. To entertain myself, I will read, exercise, kid around with the crew, play my guitar, listen to music, and reflect on what a rediculous thing I am doing to the ever soothing ambience of the ocean waves washing up against the hull of my ship.

We'll catch up in the Caribbean.

TTFN

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2004, Devon Walshe