French Drivers

It's common knowledge that the French regard zebra crossings and pelican crossings as pretty stripes on the road that are there for decoration and little else. Even when the green man is lit up, cars are still allowed to drive over the crossing if they're turning right, so they're fairly pointless. You can't rely on any car to stop for you, regardless of whether you have right of way or not.

Of course, there are exceptions. I almost always have cars stop for me if I'm wearing a skirt; I have done several experiments and my findings are consistent on this one. Also, when my mother is in France with her walking stick or in a wheelchair (she's disabled rather than old, I hasten to point out), the cars always stop courteously for her. You're treated well in this country if you're disabled or a young female; everyone else can va se faire foutre.

Which brings me on to the single most French experience I've had in my four months of living here. Having finished teaching this morning (long live the French system of no school on Wednesday afternoons), I was on the bus back to Rennes when I saw a little boy, about ten years old, hovering at the side of road next to a zebra crossing. Holding two French baguettes, he was clearly trying to decide whether to cross or not. The bus driver had no intention of stopping - indeed she seemed to speed up - and she tutted, moaning, "Bloody pedestrians!" Then, suddenly, she noticed the baguettes, slammed on the brakes, saying, "Oh, wait, he's got bread," and smiled at him as he crossed the road.

I swear this is true. Only in France do vehicles stop for bread, not people.