Little America?

I'm just going to come out and say it. My first meal in Grenoble was a huge cliche, and not the good kind. After walking down to Grenoble proper ( from my mountaintop residence) my friend and I were wandering the cobblestone streets in search of WiFi. As it turns out in France WiFi is not advertised on doors and there are none of the generic coffee shops that seem to be on every street corner in Canada. Instead the French believe in bakeries, in a big way. People actually do walk around with baguettes in their baskets while wearing the ubiquitous french scarf, I saw several people yesterday!

Tangent aside, my first meal in France was at Subway. How American of me. I can only imagine what the French sandwich artist though upon seeing two english speakers fresh off the plane. Subway looked exactly the same, aside from the sign at the beginning of the line describing how to order you subway sandwich. I guess it hasn't quite caught on in France yet. Also, don't try to order a footlong, you can order 15 or 30cm's at subway, or in a pinch a 'petit' or 'grand' sandwich will do in a pinch. Differences aside everything else was the same, the dressing bottles even had English lids (ie honey mustard, mustard), however this lulled me into a false sense of security. I ordered my sandwich and upon asking for mustard and being delivered a subway sized amount I bit in and discovered it was Dijon. Note to self, in France there is no French's yellow mustard, you get the real deal. Needless to say, my sandwich had a distinctly spicy and French twist.