This post contains the most photos for today's walk; it depicts my final approach to Niort, which took longer than I had thought it would.
We start off with some animal-rights graffiti stenciled under a bridge: "I am not an ingredient." Oh, but you are, little piggy. You most definitely are, especially in France.
Pulling back for a wide shot:
I'm pretty sure this next graffito is also pro-animal; it seems to be about "speciesism," i.e., the arrogant placement of humans at the top of some sort of biological hierarchy.
The trail along the river had been relatively unadorned until I got close to the city. Suddenly, there was more landscaping and more areas to sit and rest, such as picnic tables. I gauged my approach to Niort by the density and frequency of trappings of civilization like garbage cans and picnic tables. (There were some under those trees.)
You can sort-of see the edge of Niort in the distance:
I was hoping to encounter some convenience stores so I could buy and guzzle some drinks, but no such luck: Niort's periphery is mercilessly residential. No convenience stores for you, Kevin.
More hominess:
And more:
Graffiti suggested a change from residential areas to urban shittiness, so I thought I'd start to see more shops and eateries, and maybe some convenience stores. I was partly right, but convenience stores were, apparently, thin on the ground.
A long road connected all the properties I passed:
More roadage:
Un cygne:
Crossing this bridge (below) was the beginning of my goodbye to la Sèvre. I followed the narrowing river for a bit more, but I eventually had to break off and head into town.
The sign that proves I haven't been lying to you:
These next two pics are the last ones I took of the river before I headed into town:
Adios:
The next four pics show my progress toward the train station and the distinctive fountain that sits at its front:
A selfie:
I was so parched that I greedily bought five drinks for myself: two Cherry Cokes, an Orangina, a regular Coke, and a bottle of really bad chocolate milk (no excuse for that in France!). The milk bottle featured the sort of "animal idiot" cartoon that I enjoy, so I snapped a shot and will end this visual essay on that goofy note:
Though my vision of France is likely outdated, it didn't strike me as odd that there weren't many convenience stores. In the France of my mind, the French seem to shun convenience stores (especially for food) in favor of a restaurant/cafe or small market.
ReplyDeleteBut that idea of France, while probably more true outside of major cities like Paris, Marseilles, and perhaps Lyon, is likely as dead as my vision of the countryside of Britain...
Mike,
ReplyDeleteI think you may actually be on to something. There were plenty of convenience stores in Paris; the closest thing to a convenience store in Dom's neighborhood is that eco-friendly shop just up the street.