scooter streets

Observation #145: Razor scooters are so not over in Tours.


My walk to school for the past almost-four weeks has become routine, yes, but in the best possible way. I always cut through the train station, a place so interesting in and of itself. Every morning, I see the woman in the beige coat with the Harrod's bag. She's just one of the many tourangeau/tourangelle who commute from the banlieues, or suburbs, into the city every day for work. A shuttle train brings people from St. Pierre des Corps to Tours regularly every day.

Then there's the man in a suit who follows either close behind me, or walks just ahead, depending on when I get out of bed. Every morning, he shakes the hand of a man with a cigar as they pass each other at the gate. Suit Man boards the TGV with all the others who work around Montparnasse; they'll be at their office doors in just over an hour. Cigar Man heads away from the station and towards his office. Maybe he works at one of the many law offices near my house.

There is a surprising number of bums on the streets this early too. Their malnourished dogs never cease their curiosity-- and the dreadlock sporting, parachute-pant wearing delinquents never cease drinking Kronenbourg out of cans bought at the nearest supermarket. After learning about the money given to those au chomage, or unemployed, I wonder if the men who sit outside the train station, smoking cigarette butts and talking to the sky have picked up their monthly allowance for more cigarettes and beer.

l'Institut de Touraine

Closer to the Institute, I have many an encounter with middle-school kids on Razor scooters. Despite the iPod headphones in my ears, I can hear the rumble of their rubber wheels before they're too close, and I always scurry closer to the wall as I walk, to avoid catastrophe. I also was on the verge of being hit by a car today-- I was attempting to cross a road when a maintenance van made a swift turn towards me. I probably could have argued, but I'm not ready for that yet.

Michael from Alabama is staying with his aunt and uncle here in Tours, and after informing his aunt that he was meeting up with friends at Place Plu, she offered him her scooter.
"I ride it all around town! It's very good! You will be in the Place in only 7 or 8 minutes!"

So forget riding bikes around with une baguette and a bunch of flowers in the basket-- wipe the dust off that Razor scooter instead, if you want to be really French!

As for me, despite the pending collisions, I think I'll stick to walking.