Olivier Adam : Des Vents Contraires Traduction

Corrigé du thème Olivier Adam, Des vents contraires, 2008 We drove into a narrow street, at the far end we could make out the sea, from where we were it was just a steel strip, an aluminium twinkle. Justine was driving jerkily, would stamp on the brake, which hurled us towards the windscreen, would only change gear when I ordered her to, her ill will matched only by her foul temper. We did however manage to leave the town, not without scaring two or three pedestrians. Houses were becoming scarce and the road became deserted, no further obstacle stood in our path any more, the bends smoothly followed the indented line of the coast. We were driving along cabbage fields, rows of leafless trees, meadows vanished into the emerald sea. Gradually Justine seemed to relax. She would glance at me furtively, would hold her breath, but she had finally stopped clutching the wheel as a buoy. The road rose and all of a sudden we could only see the sky above the cliffs. I put on my sunglasses and lowered the window. The sea stretched as far as the eye could see, the air was cool and filled with sea spray, fragrances of soil and damp grass were spreading through the car. I breathed these smells in deeply. Something inside me lightened. We were on the way to Cancale and I thought it wouldn’t be so bad to make the most of it and buy oysters. It surprised me that such a thought could come to my mind. I couldn’t help seeing a sign there, a bright spot. I even pictured myself sucking its glistening pearly flesh, with my nose stuck to the half-open window, once the children were asleep. The muffled sound of the Channel and its raw scent would float over me and I would feel as though I were biting into a wave. The car swerved slightly.- Move over a little bit to the right…- There’s no one around- That’s not a reason.Justine gave an irritated sigh and without my even asking her to, she pulled over to the roadside