I'm living at a rest area... with gypsies.

Okay picture this. An old fashioned rest stop with a circular drive and shelters with picnic tables. Now add about 11 cars, station wagons and vans in varying degrees of disrepair ( these vehicles are homes). Sprinkle about 20 people around but imagine them using 3 distinct languages and give them about 100 tatoos and piercings. Oh yeah and dread locks. Be aware that they have all been working on the same farm for months and are now on holiday. Next add music (gypsie music) and alcohol. All of them smoke but they roll their own cigarettes. It is night and it is raining. They have two vans backed up together with a tarp over them and they are cooking out of the "kitchen" of each van. And they are not just cooking. These people who are cooking are french. They have started out with coffees and chocolate and have moved onto true French cuisine (crepes) and wine. People are dancing, laughing and singing. Now before you go back in time to the old gypsie ways; add a few computers, digital cameras and of course, the music comes from an ipod. This is the life I am experiencing. It is amazing. Now don't think I am stuck at this rest area. These people know the best beaches ( and I mean beautiful), free laundry (I'm not telling) and free international telephone calls ( I'm not telling). Free hot showers and free electric is available at all state parks. Everything we need. I can travel with them for the next week then our paths will seperate. Who needs socks?