Saturday was the day of protest against rising fuel prices, caused not by global oil but by Macron's implementing taxes on it. This meant that virtually everyone supported the protests.
I had a team tennis match to play on Sunday and as it was taking place at our club we had to provide lunch for the visiting team. The only thing they entrusted me to bring was the drinks. I left it until Saturday to go and buy it. Big mistake. The protesters stopped my car at the entrance to the town and told me that all the garages and supermarkets were closed. I smiled, agreed with everything they said and asked if I could just be let through as I needed to find food somewhere or I would starve. It was freezing out so I felt really sorry for them, up to a point. They let me through, even thanking me for my support and gaily stuck protest stickers all over my car. The town was a ghost town. The protesters had blocked all the entrances to all the supermarkets so the shops had no choice but to close completely. Being a cynic I suspect they feared lasting damage to their reputation if they defied the protesters.
I drove home with nothing in my shopping bag.
Sunday I drove to the club early, carrying two bottles of juice that I begged from my neighbours. Clearly not impressed my team mates thanked me for my contribution.
As I watched the others play their matches, one of our team came and sat next to me. This is someone who has never beaten me at tennis, not once. 'I have decided to play the doubles because I think there is a much better chance of us winning if I play instead of you', she said bluntly. They lost.
As I left the club at 3.00pm I was stopped by protesters. I hadn't realised it would continue to Sunday, especially as all the shops are closed anyway. They asked me what I was doing in the town. Did I work in a supermarket? Well, dressed in tennis clothes and with a tennis racquet on the passenger seat it was hardly likely. Where was I going? I said I was going home to change and then join the protest in my village. I know, I don't like telling lies but needs must sometimes. I was cold and tired. They let me through.
I had a team tennis match to play on Sunday and as it was taking place at our club we had to provide lunch for the visiting team. The only thing they entrusted me to bring was the drinks. I left it until Saturday to go and buy it. Big mistake. The protesters stopped my car at the entrance to the town and told me that all the garages and supermarkets were closed. I smiled, agreed with everything they said and asked if I could just be let through as I needed to find food somewhere or I would starve. It was freezing out so I felt really sorry for them, up to a point. They let me through, even thanking me for my support and gaily stuck protest stickers all over my car. The town was a ghost town. The protesters had blocked all the entrances to all the supermarkets so the shops had no choice but to close completely. Being a cynic I suspect they feared lasting damage to their reputation if they defied the protesters.
I drove home with nothing in my shopping bag.
Sunday I drove to the club early, carrying two bottles of juice that I begged from my neighbours. Clearly not impressed my team mates thanked me for my contribution.
As I watched the others play their matches, one of our team came and sat next to me. This is someone who has never beaten me at tennis, not once. 'I have decided to play the doubles because I think there is a much better chance of us winning if I play instead of you', she said bluntly. They lost.
As I left the club at 3.00pm I was stopped by protesters. I hadn't realised it would continue to Sunday, especially as all the shops are closed anyway. They asked me what I was doing in the town. Did I work in a supermarket? Well, dressed in tennis clothes and with a tennis racquet on the passenger seat it was hardly likely. Where was I going? I said I was going home to change and then join the protest in my village. I know, I don't like telling lies but needs must sometimes. I was cold and tired. They let me through.
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