Arches, spirals, columns, and imperial Romanesque design, reminiscing the French Revolution. 

Sun beats against the limestone, kicking fine dust on my new Van’s as we journey through the old-fashioned villages. 

Examining the chateaus, palaces, cathedrals, and grand arches. 

Monotony sets in. 

They photograph domes, pillars, and cobblestone paths, immersed in the ambiance of Medieval life. 

Do you see this? 

Take a picture. 

A souvenir to take home to your parents. 

But what of the kids gambling in the streets, cigarettes casual to the sides of their mouths. 

A royal blue Peugeot screeches to a halt. 

A Parisian girl with unshaven legs steps out. 

But they cannot speak English,

and I cannot speak French.

I slink back into step on the 200-year sweat-inducing quest. 

More spirals, stones, turrets above. 

Where are the bakeries, the pastries, the free-flowing red wine? 

Then finally, a monument worthy of a snap.

 Bulging out of carved granite wall, a bright yellow vending machine. 

“Préservatifs gratuits.” 

I consult Google…free contraceptives. 

Dumbfounded and humored to see me pocket a souvenir. 

What is his interest in such a device? 

For the remainder of my stay, they steer me clear of French architecture.