As far as I know, no one has sworn at me, but boy, oh boy, do I get beeped at.

our trusty steed 

 There is a rule called "Priorité à droite" which means that you yield to oncoming traffic from the right,  if he driver on the right is at an unmarked intersection.  So, Richmonders, assume you are zipping down River Road, heading to a nice dinner at Portico.  Each time you hit an intersection, you need to know a) that there is an intersection, and b) if it's marked or not.  If it's not, traffic will pull out in front of you, willy nilly, and either hit you, or beep in a very angry matter if you don't get hit, but failed to yield.  If you are hit by someone coming from the right you will be deemed to be at fault.

Our town has narrow streets, and houses right against the road, so occasionally this rule is helpful, when you can't see around the corner.  We have also had to get used to the long portions of two way streets in our neighborhood where only one car can fit, so one car or the other has to pull over.  I was a chicken at first but now I zip down them like a local. As long as I am behaving properly I have found French drivers to be very courteous.

In fact, I was at the CarreFour (local store) and was carefully backing to the right out of my parking place. as the man behind me and to the left was also carefully backing out to his right.  THUD!  Instantly I realized that 1)I had left my registration and license at home by accident, 2) Scott was in the U.S., and 3) the kids were home alone.  I had no idea what to do, but I knew it would take A LOT of time.

L'homme had leapt out of his car as I was contemplating these sorry facts, so by the time I stepped out he had accessed the damage.   My car was fine and his had a small dent.  He ran from car to car, waving his arms madly, calling out something in french like "It's nothing, no matter."   I was overjoyed so I used my "un peu de francais" to say "thank you thank you I love you!"  Well maybe I didn't say that last part but I felt it.

Other than that, driving our leased peugeot is a pleasure.  It's diesel,  stick-shift, and has bells and whistles that our cars at home (10 and 20 years old) lack, including a GPS who I consider to be one of my closest friends.  She has a lovely british accent and doesn't get as bent out of shape as the google maps narrator.  Google lady will be urging me to make a legal u-turn whenever possible (y'all know how humiliating that is) while my Brit won't say a word until you take the next roundabout and realize the 5th exit IS a u-turn.

I will close this post with a completely unrelated picture from a bathroom in a restaurant in Cannes:


A bientot!