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Attracting
unwelcome attention. |
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| Travelling frequently,
young, alone and not behaving like a typical
tourist can lead to trouble. |
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| Crossing
the road against a red light with other people
in the middle of Luzern I got stopped. Why
me? As soon as the policeman discovers I am
English he tells me all about his holiday
in Devon a couple of years earlier. And other
people continue to cross against the signal!
At least he let me off. |
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| I have no idea
how many times I have walked along the
Boulevard de Strasbourg in Le Havre.
Early one Sunday morning, with hardly
any traffic, I stepped off the kerb
against a red light. Not just any red
light, the one by the Sous Préfecture,
with two police officers watching me.
No point in going back, they stepped
forward ready to book me. The conversation
went something like "Vous connaissez
le Code de la Route?" (well, yes,
I did but ...), "Sorry, I don't
understand", "Le Code de la
Route, vous le connaissez?", "Sorry?",
(turning to his colleague) "Vous
parlez anglais?", "Non",
(to me) "Passez!". Good job
neither of them spotted I was holding
a French newspaper! I had completely
forgotton about it. |
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Les
devoirs des piétons
Respecter les feux, spécialement
ceux qui sont destinés
aux piétons.
(page 28)
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| Another trip,
another trip-up. Having checked out
of my hotel in Mulhouse and planning
to catch a train to Lille in the early
hours of the next morning, I took my
suitcase to the station. I was going
to spend the day in Switzerland then
catch a train back that night. The station,
like many, had separate arrival and
departure halls. I put my case in a
locker on the arrivals side intending
to come from one train, collect the
case and go back to the platform. |
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| I came back earlier
than I had expected and went into the
town for a drink. Returning to the station
just after one in the morning, I entered
via the arrivals door and retrieved
my case. The lockers were right next
to the police office, where I spent
the next thirty minutes standing while
three officers puzzled over my ridiculous
story. They ate their sandwiches and
read the paper. Finally, they let me
go just minutes before my train left. |
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| Flic Story: a novel
by Roger Borniche, published by Fayard
in 1973. |
| Flic = Cop as in
'Herr Flick of the Gestapo' in the TV
comedy 'Allo 'Allo. |
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