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.

Friday, November 16, 2007

La Greve


Just one word is enough to strike fear within the hearts of travelers across France. SNCF staged a massive grève on Wednesday so all trains ground to a halt, including the Paris metro. The picture says it all: the painful wait for the tramway, which was the only thing running in the city besides the new, auto-piloted metro line 14. Paris was paralyzed. Bumper-to-bumper red lights, crowds of commuters numb with cold. And when I headed to the Limoges university today, the students were also staging a strike. The halls were blocked off with piles of chairs; the walls plastered with angry literature. Next week, a different strike will keep me from class on Tuesday. Administration and teachers. It seems everybody wants to join the party.

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