one old guy and a sheep

One thing is to read statistics:

"One out of every three French farmers has problems finding a partner", or

"20% Of the French say their pessimism towards the future economy prevents them from having any children."

Another thing is to cycle from the Netherlands to Stes Maries de la Mer and see it all for yourself. Having left Luxembourg and its posh behind, we faced sheer emptiness. Thousands of acres of maize fields give way to even bigger fields of wheat, sometimes sunflowers to break the dull. In between little villages; five, six houses around a church.


When asking directions to the shop that is marked on our map, the old guy shakes his head: "Long closed, madame, long closed. Too few people here."

We have lunch in the church yard. An ancient lady stops her car. She's bent almost double, her nose pointing to her stomach. She gets off with great effort. Opens the enormous gates that form the entrance to her enormous farm. Gets back in the car, parks it inside and pulls at the gate again until it closes. Her grey appearance is the only life that we see for over an hour.

The same story for countless villages on a row. Elderly people, cows, a sheep. It takes way into the second week of cycling when to our surprise we see little children and youngsters having their Sunday morning lemonade and croissant. Laughter, noise.


Until when you reach Southern France. The whole continent seems to have vacated to live there. It is crammed with cars, tents, mobile homes, hotels, disco's, bars full of people. Beaches are no longer the color of sand. They are green, yellow, orange and black for all the bikini's and shorts coloring them. All the icecreams, parasols and towels. Restaurants can't make enough pizza's, bars can't pour enough drinks. This is where people are. Is this the future of the country?