Paulette
I learned how to ride a bicycle in this village in France. We had a group of friends who lived down the village. We were all going together to look after the cows. In the village, only one of us who had a bike, Daniel, he was called. He used to say “Parisian girls they do not know how to ride a bike, we’ll teach you”. So, we went down to the meadows, where it’s very steep, just before the river. They made me climbed to the top.
They asked me to go on the bike and they started to push me. I told them to hold the bike while I was riding it, they were at least 4 or 5 boys. “Yes, yes we hold you”. They let me go, and I dove into the river, head first. But at least, right after, I knew how to ride a bicycle.
We also taught my older sister how to ride a bike. At first on a flat surface, and after she had to climb the hill. She was so scared the bike would go on the opposite side, that she kept on using the brakes, and could not climb the hill.
So many tricks, we did.
One year, on August 15th, we were going to the ball. There was a butcher in the main city square. He was moaning all the time. When we came back from the ball at 4 am, we picked up all the village flowerpots and gathered them all in front of the butcher’s shop. There were no flowerpot left hanging in the village of Saint Sebastien. Then we all hid, and we waited for everyone to come get their flowers. They came with the wheelbarrows and sorted them in front of the butcher’s shop. And we were laughing. It was not nasty nonsense. We laughed a lot.
