Lost In Limoges

From the sheep-dotted pastures of France's underpopulated Southwest, Limoges rises in all its grey glory. The city's claim to fame: fine porcelain. The half-timbered houses of the Medieval center are surrounded by strip malls and McDo. Land-hungry Brits descend with flailing pocketbooks (thanks, RyanAir). The weather is remarkably cool year-round. Sure, I live on rue de Nice, but this is NOT the Cote d'Azur. Welcome to Limoges, "the middle of nowhere"-- or as Pierre says "everywhere"-- France.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Sahara Sand Storms

A few weeks ago, after a rainstorm, we noticed a strange layer of rust-colored dirt all over the car. Swipe your finger through it, smear the rain-splattered drops, and the thick grit dissolved like orange kool-aid. The neighbor informed us that heavy winds brought Sahara sand across the Mediterranean and deposited it in Limoges. I hate to think what the winds would do if there was a mishap with one of the nearby nuclear reactors.


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