out of ireland
cycling around brittany
george is a traveller
Walking shoes on my feet and walking sticks in hands, I entered the village after a short way along the canal - I didn't want to strain myself. It was lovely: bright sun blue sky and some cool air.
At the Lion d'Or, I greeted this gentleman as he entered the bar. Soon he sat down at the table opposite mine with his coffee and proceeded to open books and a notebook. His helmet had already told me he was a cyclist; it looked as if he were planning his next stage. At some point he looked up and asked me if I knew the number to call to book a seat on a train, because the indications in his book were contradictory. I told him and he dialled it on his phone. No success. Could he borrow my phone, he asked, as his apparently didn't let him call the special number I'd given him. Of course, said I, and he called the SNCF's booking service.
After he'd finished (incomplete transaction, he was to pick up his ticket from a vending machine before tomorrow at noon thanks to the reservation code he was given) we got to talking. I told him I'd overheard his name and gave him mine, then we talked about his trip: one week riding his bike (see extra) on the roads of Brittany, after crossing to Roscoff from Cork, Ireland.
In the end, he decided on a complete different course than what he'd thought before our talk, and he won't need to pick up his train ticket, because he won't be taking that train!
I love such chance encounters. You have to be open enough to let them happen, of course...
This photo is SOOC.
Tonight at rehearsal, one of my fellow comedians asked me to translate an official letter he wants to write - for a fee. So that's it: my first job as a translator. :-) He paid upfront, too!