Bye.

Tuesday, October 9, 2007

Watchin' The Long Arm of the Law


The cops in France are an odd bunch and I am having trouble finding out whether they like us or hate us. Our first run in with the authorities happened in Rouen, when we were sitting in a park/market area chewing on baguettes and sipping the cheapest, shittiest soda in the world.


There was a little walkway leading up to the park area, but the thing about France is that cars are allowed anywhere and everywhere. So a cop car rolls up with a man intently staring out of it looking for wrong doers. Joel was standing in front of the rest of us, his hand cupped counting what little change he had. I imagine this look liked a drug deal, Joel holding the coveted crack rocks that so need to survive. The cop called him over and Joel explained in French that didn't speak French, and all was well.


The next encounter occurred when we finally made it to Paris. We sat down with all of our stuff right there on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower and Glenn and I went to walk around the park. When we came back there was a group of officers congregated around the rest of the group, patting them down and all.

The cop touched Adam in a bad spot

Glenn and I arrived on the scene and asked what it was all about. They assured us that it was merely a routine check. Of course they didn't find anything. They made a bit of small talk and seemed pretty friendly about the whole thing and eventually left, wishing us a good time.

Further into the day our chances of finding a place to stay for the night were dwindling, and we decided that we would stay right there in front of the tower. We figured we would stay up all night, sleep in shifts whatever. As it turns out many people sit there until pretty late drinking the cheap champagne that is hawked by Indians carrying backpacks full of the shit. So the bottles were purchased and they proceeded to drink and drink, befriended those that surrounded us.

Good times were had that night until Joel and Adam began to feel the downsides of all that alcohol. Joel sat on a bench puking and Adam disappeared into the bushes, busy with the same task. Glenn slept on a bench for a while and eventually ran off into downtown Paris to find some Pizza at 2 AM. He didn't find any. After they had quelled the alcoholic aftermath they rolled out their sleeping bags, right there on the lawn in front of the Eiffel Tower. Brock and I were the only ones not drunk, so we found these actions questionable. Surely the cops would not agree with these arrangements, we turned out to be the only people there actually spending the night.

On top of this, the Rugby World Cup is going on right now in France, so they have this gigantic inflatable Rugby ball sitting about twenty feet from where we slept, with guards patrolling all night and occasionally staring at us. Brock and I decided it was best that we stay awake and keep an eye on things just in case the cops did arrive and have a problem with our camping.

I grew tired of this sitting and walked over to the tower, where I could see and hear to bums screaming at the top of their lungs at each other, in French. I have no idea what they were screaming about, but they felt the need to do it at the loudest possible volume. I avoided them and walked all the way down to the other end of the park. On my way back I saw that they had found someone to bother, they were now screaming in front of the inflatable rugby ball, while the guards stared at them, their hounds barking in protest. I was sure that the guards would at least do something to silence these madmen, but they merely watched in awe.

I saw back down with Brock as the bums approached us. They were so fucking loud. One of them borrowed Brock's lighter, and the other kept trying to tell us that we should "sleep, sleep" showing us hand gestures to make sure we understood. I am absolutely positive that he was trying to lure us to sleep in order to either rape us or steal all of our stuff. They yelled at each other longer, and I think they were arguing over who was to rape who.

They walked about thirty feet away, still yelling. At this point in time Brock and I turned around to see three men discussing something with the guards at the rugby ball. In the next instant the men charged towards the bums. They split up, one ran up to the closer bum, grabbed the upper half of his body and swept his legs dropping him to the ground. He pulled something out that sounded like a switch blade and pointed it at the bum who stared back in fear. The other two proceeded to deal with the other bum, throwing him down in a similar fashion. The bums got kicked repeatedly while they were on the ground and eventually cuffed.

We now realized these men to be plain clothes officers, and readied our passports as they approached us after throwing the bums in the back of their van. Brock and I were sure that at this point that we would be asked to leave. However, the cops said nothing about our camping. They merely asked if the bums had caused any problems with us, we responded and that was all we saw of those officers. We had somehow miraculously managed to still be watching over our passed out friends in front of the Eiffel Tower.

We went to sit on the bench when a cop car arrived, pulling up next to some bushes right in front us, then repositioning itself so that they were pointing directly at us. Now the jig was up, the cops had come to watch us for a little bit, then cart us off to the same place the bums went. Once again, they merely sat and watched for about an hour then drove off.

When the morning came there was a large ceremony occurring at the massive rugby ball, which housed a sort of mini museum on Rugby and New Zealand. The prime minister of New Zealand was there, as was all the press, also they had a bunch of natives dressed up in their native garb chanting and screaming the native chants while parading around the entrance. This woke Joel up for a brief second, which I would imagine was one of the funniest things to wake up to. After all this hullabaloo was complete Brock and I sat back down still in awe of everything that had just happened.

There, to the right of us was the Eiffel Tower. To the left was the worlds biggest Rugby Ball, hundreds of cameras and a Prime Minister. In the middle, Joel, Glenn, Adam, and our five backpacks soaking up the morning dew. Never have my eyes seen such an odd sight.

The tourists began to come and at around 10AM the cops visited once more, this time waking up our friends. The bizarre night had come to a close.

19 comments:

Anonymous said...

I swear you guys must be making the majority of this shit up, too funny.

Unknown said...

Just wish I was there.

Unknown said...

Oh yeah, and if I ever have enough money I am going to move to France, buy a car, and go off-roading.. Suburb Style.

Anonymous said...

Holy christ almighty i almost wish i was there... but my bitch ass could never handle kilometers of bike riding or hard rain because i'm not E.T. and, more importantly, i'm not morgan freeman. Sandpoint is thriving, in case you were wondering. The boys varsity soccer team won league and is moving on to districts this week and Spud's has raised their prices and people are quitting so i'm back to working 5 or 6 shifts a week... that's about all my life consists of presently so yeah... sorry you're missing out on such an awesome time. Love you guys please don't die.

brendan said...

I am one hundred percent sure that no one gives a shit about anything that happens in Sandpoint. Good luck in trying to make every medium you come by an outlet for your complaining.

Anonymous said...

I was going to say something along those lines, but it would have paled in comparison. Well said.

Jon said...

See you in May

Clayton Wang said...

boise cops are bullshit...your cops sound amazing...and im pretty sure that the bums would have raped adam and joel first.......then brendan and glenn...and lastly they would tag team skeletor

Anonymous said...

ouch.

Anonymous said...

Hey guys. Sounds like you are having a good time. School is not the same without you.

Anonymous said...

I think that this is a pretty crazy story...did you get a picture of the giant rugby ball? lol...keep having fun and all that good stuff..(by the way, the bike story almost made me cry, why would you do that?!) :)

Manda K.

Anonymous said...

tramps

manda k

Anonymous said...

Hey Brendan don't die in Europe you've got a lot of great travel books to write.

Biking in Europe can be a blast, but it helps to have a plan---an itinerary whereby you arrive at some cozy hostel precisely as the sun starts to picturesquely sink in the west, and you are greeted by buxom serving wenches bearing steins of fine hefeweizen and bratwurst, or in your case Evian water and an organic carrot.

Bonne Chance! KV

Anonymous said...

sounds like you guys are having a crazy ass time.. hope it doesnt get too out of hand. hey brock, let me know how the hell your doin. love ya boy
Tyler

Judy and Liam said...

love the published reports...

Judy and Liam said...

Hi guys,
We take great delight following in the shadows of your latest misadventures-after having had our own misadventures at the AWFUL tower in Paris just a month ago. (but more about that later...)after while bagguetes are like jo jos-you can only eat so many.
have you considered a weekly or monthly bus or rail pass?
absorb the travails... happy trails,
Liam and Judy

Adam said...

It is my goal in life to visit the 7 modern wonders of the world... and proceed to get completely shitted at each of them. Then maybe the natural wonders of the world. Who knows, the world is my oyster. It would make for a good book if i could ever remember what happened while i was drunk. Who wants to follow me on my adventures and be my stenographer? I am know accepting applications.

Anonymous said...

Somehow I doubt adam is sober in that one... somewhere between "shitted", and "I am know taking applications." but I wouldn't be surprised if I was wrong, I mean he is adam...
Being his stenographer would be one of the most confusing jobs. might as well use a tape recorder and try and interpret it later... similar to Fear and loathing in las vegas.

Glenn said...

One Euro for a 750 ml bottle of champaigne (11% acl).. You can´t afford to not be drunk.