The last posts may give you the impression we only visit museums. Here now the down to earth environment of the Prefecture where everybody has to wait his turn. First for the registration itself and then in another line to pay the cashier. She happens to take her coffee break and we all wait for her return 15 minutes later. At last, happily to the mechanic who will print the plates. "But, Madame, it is 12 and I have my lunch - come back in the afternoon......."
And here the result: a rested mechanic riveting (not simply screwing) the French plates on our car.
It is an old car but now with shiny new plates. In Germany, people will think we are French.
