More to listening than hearing
“Put it in the top!” We are stuck at a tollbooth trying to exit a French motorway. I'm driving and my wife, Aselle, sitting on the left, has put all our Euro coins in the machine, but the last 50 cents just keeps coming back. It's all that stands between an open barrier and us and it's our last coin. All the booths, despite having windows for attendants are empty, not a soul in sight and we puzzle over the disembodied voice. “Put it in the top,” it insists again after another failed attempt.
For those unfamiliar with French toll booths, here is a brief description. First, there is a window, which if one's lucky, will be occupied by an attendant. If, as in our case, its unoccupied one drives forward until level with a pay station, feed in the ticket and the price is displayed. Put coins in to that value, barrier opens off you go (They do take cards, but there are many horror stories of shredded plastic). Oh yes, high above the one for cars and motorcycles is an identical one for lorries. “Put it in the top!” Now the voice is shouting. “It's to high, I can't reach.” Now, the voice is getting angry. “Listen to me,” it demands, “put it in the top.” “ I can't reach.” The voice is now bordering on hysteria, “Listen to me.” “No, you listen,” I shout in its direction. Oh dear, full-blown hysteria now “LISTEN TO ME!” it screams. We are saved from further fruitless exchanges when a driver, in what's becoming a mini traffic jam behind us, gets out of his car – smiles puts a 50 cent coin in the machine and takes our bad one in exchange. “Bon voyage,” he waves a cheerful greeting as the barrier opens. It's a curious contradiction – cheerful human and a disembodied voice now screaming in uncontrollable rage. We leave them both behind trying to decide if there was a human sitting somewhere in a control room or was it a computer program.
We finally arrive at our destination, a B&B near the Lac du Der, which at 48 square KM is Europe's largest artificial lake. It's in the Marne region of Champagne Ardennes and not too far from Épernay. To call Pascale and Bruno's Gite a B&B is rather unfair. It's two half-timbered houses that they have restored to a high standard. We've been before and are greeted like old friends. Pascale is a great cook and we asked for dinner the day we arrived. The kitchen is huge with a large table that was not full even though there were eight of us. Two French couples, our hosts and us. Our French is awful and so was everyone else's English, but we had a wonderful evening. The food was great as was the conversation. Yes, we talked. Broken English, broken French, mime, pointing. Fun and laughter for four hours, I wish the tollbooth voice could have been there too. Talking and listening are worthless unless one wants to understand.
For those unfamiliar with French toll booths, here is a brief description. First, there is a window, which if one's lucky, will be occupied by an attendant. If, as in our case, its unoccupied one drives forward until level with a pay station, feed in the ticket and the price is displayed. Put coins in to that value, barrier opens off you go (They do take cards, but there are many horror stories of shredded plastic). Oh yes, high above the one for cars and motorcycles is an identical one for lorries. “Put it in the top!” Now the voice is shouting. “It's to high, I can't reach.” Now, the voice is getting angry. “Listen to me,” it demands, “put it in the top.” “ I can't reach.” The voice is now bordering on hysteria, “Listen to me.” “No, you listen,” I shout in its direction. Oh dear, full-blown hysteria now “LISTEN TO ME!” it screams. We are saved from further fruitless exchanges when a driver, in what's becoming a mini traffic jam behind us, gets out of his car – smiles puts a 50 cent coin in the machine and takes our bad one in exchange. “Bon voyage,” he waves a cheerful greeting as the barrier opens. It's a curious contradiction – cheerful human and a disembodied voice now screaming in uncontrollable rage. We leave them both behind trying to decide if there was a human sitting somewhere in a control room or was it a computer program.
We finally arrive at our destination, a B&B near the Lac du Der, which at 48 square KM is Europe's largest artificial lake. It's in the Marne region of Champagne Ardennes and not too far from Épernay. To call Pascale and Bruno's Gite a B&B is rather unfair. It's two half-timbered houses that they have restored to a high standard. We've been before and are greeted like old friends. Pascale is a great cook and we asked for dinner the day we arrived. The kitchen is huge with a large table that was not full even though there were eight of us. Two French couples, our hosts and us. Our French is awful and so was everyone else's English, but we had a wonderful evening. The food was great as was the conversation. Yes, we talked. Broken English, broken French, mime, pointing. Fun and laughter for four hours, I wish the tollbooth voice could have been there too. Talking and listening are worthless unless one wants to understand.
No comments have been added yet.
