Banking and Buying

Ol' "smarty" outsmarted himself yet again. Upon leaving Houston I had about 80 Euro and $500 in cash. I also brought a cashier's check made out to myself to open a local checking account. As I meandered around the area of my apartment trying to buy things over the last few days the Euros disappeared quickly. So I determined I'd find a bank and exchange my dollars for Euros. I wasn't going to do it at the airport because they really rip you off; to the tune of about 10%. Funny, that's sounding cheap about now.

Beginning Wednesday I left work about 4:30 trying to find a bank. I was unable to do so, but I did find one at the big shopping center that was closed. Yesterday, the young lady who has done so much setting up our apartments (that's a-part-te-mo' in French), and getting our cars, etc. was going to take us to the bank to exchange currency. We went to the bank used by the company for much of its business. Turns out it's the bank headquarters, and they don't handle such, I guess, meaningless, transactions there. We were told we'd have to go into the city center (Nantes) to the main branch to make it happen. I wasn't about to drive downtown (odds were better than even I'd never get back). So I said, I knew of a bank at the mall that looked good.

So, late in the day, Morgan (the guy travelling from Houston with me) and I head down to exchange some money, with the intent of finding a beer and dinner later. We go into the bank and the guy tells us they don't do currency exchange either, we'll have to go downtown. Now, for the first time, I'm getting a little up tight about this. I have never seen a bank in the U.S. where you couldn't exchange currency. Sure, they charge you, but so will these people if I'm ever able to do it. Now it's getting interesting. And, I have to go downtown!! The going is easy, I follow Morgan. The coming back? That's another kettle of fish.

I have a twenty-Euro note and some change. Plus about $5500 in, evidently, worthless paper!! Anyway, Morgan and I find a nice Irish bar in downtown Nantes (he's young and elected to live downtown, as the young are inclined to do). We have a couple of beers, and I throw my last 20-Euro note on the table and we go to dinner. We went to the restaurant where I'd had some of the best mussels and escargot ever when we were here a couple of months ago. My luck is holding. No mussels. But they did have a great scallop dinner. This is rapidly becoming my favorite restaurant in Nantes. Btw - met our first snooty waitress. She was, as is usual here, a cute young lady who, upon hearing my "Pardon, nous parlon un peu le francois," (We speak little French) made a face and then proceeded to speak excellent english to us. Despite our gratitude and friendly (I thought) banter, she seemed in pain whenever she had to speak those terrible words, but I didn't care; her problem, not mine. We did get revenge though...we didn't tip. She had to make do with the amount added automatically to the bill. Revenge is a soup best savored cold, huh? Especially petty revenge. One doubts it even registered. Doesn't matter, food was good, we had a good time, and, wtf, it's her country.

End of adventure? Non, mon amis. I had to drive home from city center. I'd have never made it using a map. Fortunately, Morgan loaned me his GPS and it, eventually, got me home. Garmin's descriptions of what to do at these traffic circles takes some getting used to. The good news is, when you miss the turn, you just keep going around in circles until you come back. At one point last night I thought I would get dizzy, but, after two laps on one, I managed to take the correct exit and get home safe and sound. (Takes three laps to qualify in NASCAR.)

Woke up this morning wanting a good cup of coffee and breakfast. But, wait a minute! I have no money! At least any money that counts for anything. I've been trying to avoid cash withdrawals on a credit card because they charge you like crazy for those transactions. After all, some banker on Wall Street needs a new third (or is it fourth?) home on the coast of Maine. But, resigned to further enriching the banking industry I went to my, now, favorite mall and withdrew some Euros. To breakfast, huh? Well...maybe.

Stopped at this cute little restaurant in the mall and ordered "cafe American." I'm told that's universal for "weak" American-style coffee. I don't think so. No one I've ever said it to seemed to have the slightest idea what I was talking about. I think it means, "Hey, I'm an American wuss...look at me, smile and laugh, but don't let on you have a clue what he needs." Anyway, I order cafe American, and l'eau chaud (hot water). I thought. I failed to understand that the "L'" didn't have to be added, just "eau chaud." So...I got very strong French coffee and a small container of lait chaud (hot milk.) I guess lait was the only word she could think of that had a contextual association with an "L" and cafe. In any event, the coffee would eat a nail...the steel kind...not the finger kind. I did get a roll with the cafe (coffee...see, I speak French) and it was good, though I'm not very fond of chocolate pastry. I thought is was filled with some kind of jam or jelly, not a sweet chocolate. Well j'apprends (I learn). Observation: These folks really like their chocolate...in just about anything.

Not having sufficient retail challenges this week, I went to the big store in the mall and spent almost two and a half hours wondering around trying to pickup stuff I need. Was able to pick up the needed ironing board and iron, paper towels, alarm cock (without batteries), clothes hangers, washcloths, and a bunch of other stuff. More importantly, I bought the needed materials to continue the single-malt Scotch testing my friend, Diron, and I have been engaged in for quite some time. (We expect the complete test will take years, if ever completed.) Total bill was 104 Euros, of which, about 40 was the scotch. (That's about the correct ratio of necessities, the Scotch, and luxuries, like ironing boards and paper towels.) Neat little thing here. I bought a "Malts Collection." For the 40 Euros (~$56) I got three small bottles of scotch; Talisker, a 10-year ol from the Isle of Skye, Cragganmore, a 12 year-old from Speyside, and Lagavulin, a 16 year-old from Islay.

Talisker was founded in 1830, Cragganmore in 1869, and Lagavulin in 1816. You know, you can learn a lot in 140 to 190 years. Decided to relax with the Cragganmore this afternoon. It is very smooth and, as I like them, not overly peaty in taste. I'll be buying more of this. Can't wait to sample the others...and the others.

Got some money, got some Scotch, relaxing a little. Doing it right here. Enjoying even a laundry day. Hope you're having as much fun as I.