Everyone is treated like a third-class citizen once or twice in a lifetime. Have you ever been made to feel like you just climbed out of a sewer because you needed a "Pay as you go" mobile phone top-up? If you haven’t but you are still intrigued, I suggest that you stroll into a French mobile phone shop sometime. I am in a pickle today. I have home wifi, but it is nice to have service in unfamiliar locations from time to time. What if you need a Tripadvisor suggestion for lunch or a route to a vineyard from Google Maps?

My data ran out this morning, so I thought it best to get into the nearest sizable town and darken the doors of the Orange boutique. Orange, along with SFR, are France's biggest mobile phone providers. Neither are great, but SFR would have to be on fire for me even to consider saving the staff from certain death. As a result of my first & only visit to SFR, I now know what it must be like to be a Hare Krishna or a Gypsy selling the lucky heather. Do you want to feel inadequate or in 2021 speak, marginalized? Then go to SFR. Only one of the four staff even lifted their heads from their own phones long enough to fuck me off when the shop was otherwise completely empty.

Orange was slightly less toxic, so they got my business for mobile phone service and home wifi. So there I was this morning at opening time waiting in line for help. I was not first and oddly not last as one of those octogenarians I was referring to in the last blog was behind me waiting to return his wifi router. We had a short conversation in French (I am getting better), and from that, I learned he lived in Lacoste and that his box was a piece of Merde.

My time had come, and the security guard waved me in during a break from playing a game on his phone. They have a Covid limit of 7 people in the boutique at one time. Security first I always say. I took a seat in line and waited for the woman in front of me to ask the "customer service rep" to explain each one of the three hundred phones on display's features before declaring she was not looking to upgrade her phone at this time. So is this all she had to do with her morning? A pox on her and her grapevines!

It was my turn. I stopped to shave before reaching the counter as it felt like an eternity had passed since I arrived. I never expect anyone to speak English in foreign climes. This is France, and I live here, so I should understand what is said to me and what is going on. It was just 90 seconds before the “customer service rep” was signing me up for a 20 Euro upgrade to my home WIFI account so that I may have my phone included with 5 GB of monthly mobile data. When the new contract arrived, I tried again to explain I did not want an "upgrade." I am pay as you go, and I am not in France year-round, so it makes no sense to increase my monthly tariff for home wifi etc.

We went around the mulberry / Orange bush (pardon the pun) for quite a while before she understood that I was just a poor old pay-as-you-go muppet and that she had just spent all that time trying to get a failed commission. So I am back to being sewer scum, and I need a top-up for a week. Sort of like Oliver Twist asking Fagin for more soup.

With a frown and a sigh, I was provided with my "Mobi Cartè" top-up. I was 25 Euros lighter and happy to get my statutory release from the Orange workhouse. I wandered the town, bought a Baguette for my Jambon Beurre and returned to Bonnieux for a picnic in Place Gambetta. Upon arrival at my favourite bench overlooking the valley to the north, my life was once again provencal.

Please leave a comment if you have time!

Live well.

Mark

All images captured with the Leica Q2

Never complain about having to drive a Charger! These made in Romania Dacia Dusters are 1/3rd as big and powered by Gypsy dust!