First of all, remembering 27 other names of people you have never met before and may never see again, is in fact quite a challenge. Now that task multiplied by three (the average amount of information given to you in small talk – job, hometown, kids) becomes even more confusing and somewhat of a distraction from the trip. Don’t get me wrong – there are quite a number of wonderful things about traveling in a large group: for example – being able to eat with someone instead of sitting there pretending like you are reading your guide book, walking along crowded streets with your camera out and snapping away whilst traveling en masse with your group, and forming a massive blockade in order to cross busy streets where pedestrian right of way is more of a joke than a law.
The element about group travel that strikes me as slightly disagreeable pertains specifically to the free time given to roam on our own. Here’s the situation: twenty-eight travelers, one small French country town, and four square blocks of exploring to do. Spread out, that would leave about two travelers, or one couple, per block. Now set those travelers in motion and see what happens (and remember – this early in the trip hardly anyone remembers each other’s names, nor do they know that much about them). What you get is a bunch of people running into each other and repeating the same exact lines: “Isn’t this beautiful”, “Have you eaten yet”, “Are you headed back to the hotel?”. Feeling moderately crazed by this situation, I am calmed by the fact that our bus driver has offered to sell us beer on the bus for $1. Thus – the key to survival is to spend free time purposely getting lost, when the need arrives to travel by bus – buy a few beers, and in the evening relax with a wine or two. Repeat.
The beautiful four square block I was referring to is known to the world (or at least to the local French) as Beaunne. I simply cannot imagine a more picturesque town. And while that may be the wonderful thing about this place – it also happens to be the most disturbing thing as well. You see – Beaunne is too perfect. Just as I had previously thought, everything done in Paris was exceptionally perfect, and now you have Beaunne. Beaunne, the definition of a perfect French town. Now that I had experienced that – I suddenly felt creeped out. It was as if around every corner, in every nook and cranny – a beautiful photograph was awaiting my glistening lens. The problem being that it became immediately clear that every door, window, courtyard and cobblestone street had been photographed at least 10,000 times from every possible angle. Beaunne is just one of those places. A wonderful place to visit, but don’t commit yourself to Utopia until you’ve rented a room first. Get me outta here and into Switzerlandia.
The joys of traveling with 27 other members of the human race.
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