They've tarmacadamed the pavement opposite our flats, and we are filled with joy. Up till now the pavement was composed of nasty black stones of varying sizes that were frequently flattened but continuously stirred up so they attacked the sole of your foot through your shoes, or even from inside your shoes. But now we have smooth, black, shiny tarmac. What joy!
It may go a little way to solving one of our other little annoyances. Some women decided to work the street our flat is on. Let the reader understand. They are on the day shift, so they stand or sit in the blazing sun waiting for a car to stop.
A while ago one lady took to yelling at passing men. "Ça va?" If they responded in any way she'd yell, "On y va?" One day she came up as I was waiting for the no. 11 bus.
"Bonjour. Ça va très bien, merci"
"On y va?"
"Où? On y va où?"
"Ah non, et merci de ne plus crier dans la rue comme ça!"
She didn't understand me the first time. From her look I'd guess she is late 50s, perhaps portuguese, someone's mother and grandmother.
I guess that soon they'll move away onto the boulevard. In a square between us and the station the day time sees groups of children in a playground and men playing boules on the boulodrome. The daytime is quite different as the square becomes the haunt of black prostitutes. Apparently in Paris these women are trafficked from Nigeria. I don't know about here. Prostitution is not illegal in France, but being a client of prostitution is illegal.
Another minor hassle we have is that since the town hall renamed the street only abotu half the things we order from Amazon get delivered. The post office is fine unless it's a big parcel in which case they can't be bothered to call you down to collect it. But other carriers can't find the street name in google maps and so they give up. In the best case they ask you what to do, when you can ask them to leave the parcel in a local wine shop. In the worst case they send it back to Amazon.