Living among the daring

Last night, we saw three more scooters and then in a fit of wanting to move on from this topic, I threw down 1000 euros as a first payment for a scooter. I pay the rest today when I pick it up.

Up until now, I've been feeling a little like a princess trapped in a castle -- or a child, whatever image best explains having no control over your whereabouts. I had lost the independence that I used to love in Ottawa, which used to ground me, and that had begun to skew my view of life here in France. Sometimes it's necessary to go out on your own and just look at stuff... sing in the car, listen to the radio or have an experience that's yours alone. You might think I can't do all of that with the scooter, but two days ago, a man drove by me singing opera at full volume.

After paying for part of the scooter, we went to a weird little bar for a beer and then drove home together on the scooter we already have. As we drove along the Promenade des Anglais along the beach, I was wired and the sea was crazy. The waves crashed up higher than I'd ever seen and they covered most of the beach, which is usually quite large and dry. Along the walking area between the road and the beach, several young guys were testing their bravery. They'd climbed over the railings that separate the walking area from the beach and were holding on -- metres from the beach below -- as the waves taunted them with splashes and spray. The boys were giggling, testing, daring.

I think I felt the same as them... even though all I've done so far is let someone run my credit card. Silly, cautious Canadian.