"Pensées d'Alexandrie", "Bises du Caire" ... It's summer. They took their car, drove in coaches, flew in planes and visited camera in shoulder strap some distant country bristling with monuments and other "things to see", such as Egypt, Greece, India or Bordeaux. So as they are bored a bit far from their home sweet home, the Rouchon write to Brochon and vice versa - we are polite all the same! They send postcards not stung from the beetles. In these letters from the front of the leisure society, François Morel as a "melancholy mocker" has fun with often tender humor, sometimes biting, of this irrepressible need to change scenery to finally eye with a weary eye the pyramids and all those centuries that contemplate you while thinking of the evening meal (wine is free and at will) and the friends who have stayed in the country.
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"Pensées d'Alexandrie", "Bises du Caire" ... It's summer. They took their car, drove in coaches, flew in planes and visited camera in shoulder strap some distant country bristling with monuments and other "things to see", such as Egypt, Greece, India or Bordeaux. So as they are bored a bit far from their home sweet home, the Rouchon write to Brochon and vice versa - we are polite all the same! They send postcards not stung from the beetles. In these letters from the front of the leisure society, François Morel as a "melancholy mocker" has fun with often tender humor, sometimes biting, of this irrepressible need to change scenery to finally eye with a weary eye the pyramids and all those centuries that contemplate you while thinking of the evening meal (wine is free and at will) and the friends who have stayed in the country.
