My long weekend in France
Posted: Tue Mar 08, 2011 12:27 pm
This may be the longest post ever, I just need to tell you all about the great time I've just had.
Last Friday I set off on a journey, in order to deliver some furniture to a friend’s sister I had to take my van from London to St Etienne in France, a journey of around 1,300 miles, a journey I was to take on my own. I had loaded up on Thursday so set off bright and early, well early anyway on Friday morning, I left more or less in drab, but with skinny jeans and sweat shirt with Converse’ on my feet. So it was after landing in France that I pulled over, popped on a bra (etc) and did my makeup and put on the wig, a change to some lighter weight footwear and Paula was back. I had a lot of miles (or should that be kilometres) to cover so the day was spent mostly on the motorways, I had to stop to pay tolls and fill up with diesel, I like to think that no one batted an eye lid even though I was made up more heavily than most women would have been to drive a van. I took a lot of personal pleasure from my pink polished finger nails and dainty ladies watch. About 6 in the evening I booked into a nice little Hotel near Langres and Dijon.
I decided to dress up a bit for dinner and added the bling I had with me to the LBD some very sheer black stockings and some classic court shoes I had only bought a few days before. The restaurant was at a different part of the village so I had a little walk each way. It was an excellent meal and the staff were all very friendly and made time to help me just as much, or more than any other customers. I think that any attention I attracted was positive as I was so much more dressed up than any other customers. This was a great night for me good food nice friendly environment and dressed up, what more could a girl ask for – well maybe some congenial company but you can’t have it all. I more or less floated back to the Hotel after dinner.
Next morning there were a few of us having breakfast, I’m afraid that I did attract a bit of attention, but I trust that it was that with my 3 inch heel knee boots on I am over 6 foot, taller than most French men never mind the women. I had to clean off the makeup and change back into drab before making my delivery on Saturday afternoon, but organised myself so a quick change back was made before booking into that night’s Hotel. This was a slightly cheaper Hotel, still clean and comfortable, but no restaurant. I had a walk around town and decided that the best bet to eat looked like the town Casino, well maybe I just thought that this could be an excuse to glam it up a bit again. When I got back to the Hotel I was for the only time on the trip “Monsieured” every other occasion I was always addressed as “Madam”, although this was from behind it did rankle!
Well I had with me a pair of black culottes, which are quite dressy, with a nice satin black shirt blouse some nice sheer tights and my court shoes I thought made a pretty good fairly suitable outfit. At the Casino I was by no means overdressed, however since I hadn’t booked the restaurant I could not eat there. The third restaurant I tried I finally managed to get a table, but then only since I was on my own, they put an extra small table right by the bar so I was very visible, and was perhaps a little over dressed compared to most of their customers, but by no means all. Again an excellent meal in a very French environment, no one does dinning like the French.
So Saturday night I went to bed as Paula, Sunday morning I got up as Paula and this was the first day I have had when I could stay as Paula all day. So what did I do but make my major fashion faux pas. Maybe I was still a little annoyed about being Monsieured the night before, so out came the Daisy Dukes, pink metallic animal print tights and knee boots! In retrospect maybe not such a good look for a lady of my mature years. Still I enjoyed wearing them and that’s really the point. It did dawn on me that in that town I had been in three different outfits and all three were very fem and all included trousers of one sort or another! Sunday was a good day, I was on the home leg of the journey but had planned a fairly leisurely drive back on a different route towards northern France before coming home on Monday. Plans changed when I realised I had left my phone charger and adapter (different sockets in France & UK) at Friday night's Hotel. So I had a drive across country, and very pretty country it is too, to the previous hotel, how was I going to explain what I wanted with my very poor, and basic French? would they remember me? Yeh sure, how many British transvestites driving an old Ford Transit called Gloria stop in a village in Burgundy? I arrived mid afternoon was greeted as Madam, was given very friendly attention, eventually we did find my stuff, but I had to remind then when I had stayed, and which room, when there are only about 30 in the whole hotel. As well as relief that I could safely use my phone now, I also got a real buzz out of the treatment I was receiving everywhere I went. That night I stayed at a Camponile (chain of up market motels) changed and had a decent dinner, looked after by very friendly staff, I have been to France many many times before but have never noticed them being so friendly in the past, either they are responding to me differently or I am being more sensitive. Either way I put the difference down to my comfort with my presentation.
Monday was my home day I had plenty of time to meander back before catching my ferry, so took my time getting dressed, long dress trousers over fishnet tights, black sating blouse, wide belt to show off my waist with a grey tailored jacket and my black court shoes. With my “gold” chains, ear rings and bracelet I felt and looked very classy, I was welcomed at breakfast by staff and other customers, sat down and had a slow enjoyable breakfast, after all I had plenty of time hadn’t I?
After loading up the van, checking out, I cleaned all the windows, checked the oil and water, all OK got in sat down in the drivers seat, put on the seat belt, turned the key and nothing happened! What a time for a flat battery, one of the staff had some jump leads in her car, but they were just not heavy duty enough. They phoned for a recovery for me, and fed me extra coffee while I waited. The mechanic turned up and again could not get me going, so I was recovered to the local Ford main dealer. The dealer diagnosed a dead battery and fitted a new one, for once I had got all my vehicle paperwork with me so I managed to communicate, all through this experience I was addressed as Madam and treated as a lady should be within that sort of environment. My bill is even made out to Mme Paula G****. After all this I was a lot poorer, and a lot more rushed so decided that I would have to bash back up to Calais by motorway, just stopped quickly to pick up some nice cheap wine and Cognac. Gloria made good time on the motorway, not as fast as a car but better than a truck, I only stopped for a quick fill up, both Gloria and me, and looked set to make Calais in nice time, that was before I was stopped by the Police, looking for smugglers. I suppose that a lone smartly dressed female in an old and by now dirty van is unusual, but they checked all my papers, all my bags, even behind the panels in the back of the van. They were very polite, very friendly, but also quite insistent, interestingly they did ask if I was on my own – yes – was all the luggage mine – yes – and then they went through the luggage, which contained clothing obviously for both genders. I was released with thanks, although several other (mostly British) vehicles were being detained. Now all I could do was dash straight to the Ferry Port I managed to just make my latest check in time, and then passport control, arghhh I was still dressed and made up, my passport is not only male but the photo shows me with a beard! The French control greeted me with the usual “Bonjour Madam” looked at my passport, didn’t bat an eyelid handed it back and wished me a good journey. British passport control, “Hello” looked at the photo, and asked me to remove my sunglasses, MY SUNGLASSES, that was all, perfectly happy, perfectly polite, perfectly friendly, what have I been worrying about for so long.
I resisted the temptations of the cosmetics in the on board shop, and had a pretty uneventful crossing apart from staff I did have one short conversation with another lone female traveller, who treated me as a total equal. Back in Blighty I got stopped again by customs, but was quickly released, it is only an hour and half from Dover to home, it was a really flat feeling having to take off all my girl stuff, and but on the drab. It was like a sad farewell, but also good to be home and back with my family.
Some of the high points I will treasure, not having to take my nail varnish off after a few hours, a whole day as Paula, being called Madam, seated and treated as a lady at the restaurants, oh yes, and I was being paid to do it, now I want to do it all again!
I have put up a few pictures here http://cid-b78ac089d6a8c007.photos.live ... rch%202011
Last Friday I set off on a journey, in order to deliver some furniture to a friend’s sister I had to take my van from London to St Etienne in France, a journey of around 1,300 miles, a journey I was to take on my own. I had loaded up on Thursday so set off bright and early, well early anyway on Friday morning, I left more or less in drab, but with skinny jeans and sweat shirt with Converse’ on my feet. So it was after landing in France that I pulled over, popped on a bra (etc) and did my makeup and put on the wig, a change to some lighter weight footwear and Paula was back. I had a lot of miles (or should that be kilometres) to cover so the day was spent mostly on the motorways, I had to stop to pay tolls and fill up with diesel, I like to think that no one batted an eye lid even though I was made up more heavily than most women would have been to drive a van. I took a lot of personal pleasure from my pink polished finger nails and dainty ladies watch. About 6 in the evening I booked into a nice little Hotel near Langres and Dijon.
I decided to dress up a bit for dinner and added the bling I had with me to the LBD some very sheer black stockings and some classic court shoes I had only bought a few days before. The restaurant was at a different part of the village so I had a little walk each way. It was an excellent meal and the staff were all very friendly and made time to help me just as much, or more than any other customers. I think that any attention I attracted was positive as I was so much more dressed up than any other customers. This was a great night for me good food nice friendly environment and dressed up, what more could a girl ask for – well maybe some congenial company but you can’t have it all. I more or less floated back to the Hotel after dinner.
Next morning there were a few of us having breakfast, I’m afraid that I did attract a bit of attention, but I trust that it was that with my 3 inch heel knee boots on I am over 6 foot, taller than most French men never mind the women. I had to clean off the makeup and change back into drab before making my delivery on Saturday afternoon, but organised myself so a quick change back was made before booking into that night’s Hotel. This was a slightly cheaper Hotel, still clean and comfortable, but no restaurant. I had a walk around town and decided that the best bet to eat looked like the town Casino, well maybe I just thought that this could be an excuse to glam it up a bit again. When I got back to the Hotel I was for the only time on the trip “Monsieured” every other occasion I was always addressed as “Madam”, although this was from behind it did rankle!
Well I had with me a pair of black culottes, which are quite dressy, with a nice satin black shirt blouse some nice sheer tights and my court shoes I thought made a pretty good fairly suitable outfit. At the Casino I was by no means overdressed, however since I hadn’t booked the restaurant I could not eat there. The third restaurant I tried I finally managed to get a table, but then only since I was on my own, they put an extra small table right by the bar so I was very visible, and was perhaps a little over dressed compared to most of their customers, but by no means all. Again an excellent meal in a very French environment, no one does dinning like the French.
So Saturday night I went to bed as Paula, Sunday morning I got up as Paula and this was the first day I have had when I could stay as Paula all day. So what did I do but make my major fashion faux pas. Maybe I was still a little annoyed about being Monsieured the night before, so out came the Daisy Dukes, pink metallic animal print tights and knee boots! In retrospect maybe not such a good look for a lady of my mature years. Still I enjoyed wearing them and that’s really the point. It did dawn on me that in that town I had been in three different outfits and all three were very fem and all included trousers of one sort or another! Sunday was a good day, I was on the home leg of the journey but had planned a fairly leisurely drive back on a different route towards northern France before coming home on Monday. Plans changed when I realised I had left my phone charger and adapter (different sockets in France & UK) at Friday night's Hotel. So I had a drive across country, and very pretty country it is too, to the previous hotel, how was I going to explain what I wanted with my very poor, and basic French? would they remember me? Yeh sure, how many British transvestites driving an old Ford Transit called Gloria stop in a village in Burgundy? I arrived mid afternoon was greeted as Madam, was given very friendly attention, eventually we did find my stuff, but I had to remind then when I had stayed, and which room, when there are only about 30 in the whole hotel. As well as relief that I could safely use my phone now, I also got a real buzz out of the treatment I was receiving everywhere I went. That night I stayed at a Camponile (chain of up market motels) changed and had a decent dinner, looked after by very friendly staff, I have been to France many many times before but have never noticed them being so friendly in the past, either they are responding to me differently or I am being more sensitive. Either way I put the difference down to my comfort with my presentation.
Monday was my home day I had plenty of time to meander back before catching my ferry, so took my time getting dressed, long dress trousers over fishnet tights, black sating blouse, wide belt to show off my waist with a grey tailored jacket and my black court shoes. With my “gold” chains, ear rings and bracelet I felt and looked very classy, I was welcomed at breakfast by staff and other customers, sat down and had a slow enjoyable breakfast, after all I had plenty of time hadn’t I?
After loading up the van, checking out, I cleaned all the windows, checked the oil and water, all OK got in sat down in the drivers seat, put on the seat belt, turned the key and nothing happened! What a time for a flat battery, one of the staff had some jump leads in her car, but they were just not heavy duty enough. They phoned for a recovery for me, and fed me extra coffee while I waited. The mechanic turned up and again could not get me going, so I was recovered to the local Ford main dealer. The dealer diagnosed a dead battery and fitted a new one, for once I had got all my vehicle paperwork with me so I managed to communicate, all through this experience I was addressed as Madam and treated as a lady should be within that sort of environment. My bill is even made out to Mme Paula G****. After all this I was a lot poorer, and a lot more rushed so decided that I would have to bash back up to Calais by motorway, just stopped quickly to pick up some nice cheap wine and Cognac. Gloria made good time on the motorway, not as fast as a car but better than a truck, I only stopped for a quick fill up, both Gloria and me, and looked set to make Calais in nice time, that was before I was stopped by the Police, looking for smugglers. I suppose that a lone smartly dressed female in an old and by now dirty van is unusual, but they checked all my papers, all my bags, even behind the panels in the back of the van. They were very polite, very friendly, but also quite insistent, interestingly they did ask if I was on my own – yes – was all the luggage mine – yes – and then they went through the luggage, which contained clothing obviously for both genders. I was released with thanks, although several other (mostly British) vehicles were being detained. Now all I could do was dash straight to the Ferry Port I managed to just make my latest check in time, and then passport control, arghhh I was still dressed and made up, my passport is not only male but the photo shows me with a beard! The French control greeted me with the usual “Bonjour Madam” looked at my passport, didn’t bat an eyelid handed it back and wished me a good journey. British passport control, “Hello” looked at the photo, and asked me to remove my sunglasses, MY SUNGLASSES, that was all, perfectly happy, perfectly polite, perfectly friendly, what have I been worrying about for so long.
I resisted the temptations of the cosmetics in the on board shop, and had a pretty uneventful crossing apart from staff I did have one short conversation with another lone female traveller, who treated me as a total equal. Back in Blighty I got stopped again by customs, but was quickly released, it is only an hour and half from Dover to home, it was a really flat feeling having to take off all my girl stuff, and but on the drab. It was like a sad farewell, but also good to be home and back with my family.
Some of the high points I will treasure, not having to take my nail varnish off after a few hours, a whole day as Paula, being called Madam, seated and treated as a lady at the restaurants, oh yes, and I was being paid to do it, now I want to do it all again!
I have put up a few pictures here http://cid-b78ac089d6a8c007.photos.live ... rch%202011