Boxing Day in L'Etang la Ville is rather like Boxing Day anywhere else. Its grey. The cold sunny weather has been replaced by a frigid Gallic Dreich. Some shops open, others firmly closed and a bitter blow this, La Maison Des Journaux is open, but the nouveau Guardian n'est pas arrive.'Peut etre cette apres midi, Monsieur-vous preferez le Herald Tribune?' 'Monsieur did not and the long uphill trek home, emtpy handed.

Only les hygiénistes environnemental lifted my spirits. Today is recycling bin day. All kinds of stuff are removed to be recycled and sent off to provide raw material for the French arms industry. Unlike Hutton glass goes as well. But the quality control at point of collection is ruthless. As I passed a bin under scrutiny a rummaging homme de refuse pulled out a collection of polysterene and kicked it in the general direction of the pavement strwing most of it over the road. A fierce rebuke from Le Capitan des hommes de refuse who then personally made a neat pile of polysterene. Stood back to admire his handiwork and then

Kicked it on to the pavement.

Quelle Finesse

The image typifies the overflowing bins. Surprisingly the rubbish blokes did not seem to mind collecting from outside the receptacles. It just had to be

The Right Stuff

Labels: Christmas in France, L'Etang La Ville, Rubbish

  ¶ 10:18 AM