Category: France

Categories
France Moving to France

How I Got Here

PHASE ONE

I’ve had a busy year, amazingly. In terms of moving in, I now am on the national insurance, have a top-off insurance also, and a residence card (renewable.) Life here seems normal, and, given the current zeitgeist in the USA, I’m happy about that. You may be wondering if I moved to France to escape the United States, and the answer is no. I did not. I’m not going to go into specific aspects of life that are better or worse in one country or another in this post, so if you’re looking for that sort of thing, I’ve posted a few things before, and probably will again, so check back in my blog, or back here in the future. Meanwhile, some sort of minds want to know about the motivation and process of moving to France, so that’s what I’m writing about, in this, and possibly in subsequent posts.

Phase One: we travel around North America.

I was born in Ohio; my wife was born in Pennsylvania. We met in Denver, the sixth area I’ve lived in (starting with Tiffin, Ohio.) Since then we have lived in the Las Vegas, Nevada area for about twenty years, and now live in Southwest France. Well, it may not look southwestern on a map, but we are roughly 400 kilometers southwest of Paris, and in France, Paris is point zero. Next time you’re in front of Notre Dame cathedral look for the Zero point plaque in the pavement. Literally, that is where all distances in France are measured from. In Kilometers.* Being southwest of Notre Dame, we live in Southwest France. But we didn’t start out by deciding to move to France. We have visited almost every State in the United States. I’m still missing North Dakota, Oklahoma, and, um, nothing. We have visited Alaska and Hawaii together, virtually all of the West, and most of the rest of the country as well. We’ve also visited Canada and Mexico (loved Cancun, skip Machu Picchu) and of course Puerto Peñasco, where my mother-in-law once had a timeshare condo. In the past I’ve visited Windsor, Ontario, just south of Detroit, Several Canadian national parks, Vancouver, and the prairie province of Alberta. We’d both like to visit Quebec some day.

And, we were looking forward to retirement, which can be expensive in the United States. We had mortgage obligations including a get-away place in Arizona and a couple of rental properties. These properties were very handy later on in the process. To begin with, we just wanted to see Europe without paying two grand per round trip, renting a vehicle, and the other expenses involved in every trip across the pond. Our last pure vacation in Europe was to Germany, when we stayed in the Eifel (you can look it up, it’s on the border with Belgium.) We knew that at the time. And we checked into moving to Germany. My grandfather was born in Germany, so hey, maybe that would be some help? Well, no, as it happens, and while Germany turned out to be a great place to visit (but not if you’re a pig) it would involve double taxation amongst other expenses, so that was out.

Yep, this is in Germany.

Phase Two: We Check Out Europe

Our research indicated that Portugal is popular with a lot of ex-patriates (ex-pats) so we planned a trip there. We flew Aer Lingus via Dublin, which meant that we could do a layover and check out Ireland while we were there. I do have Irish ancestry, named James McDaniels, of the County Kerry McDaniels (or however they spelled it back then.) Family story was that he came to escape the potato famine, but I traced his family back to the1790 census in Providence, Rhode Island, so no, no famine for James. (His father was also James, and his father was James, and his father wasn’t counted in any US census.)

Well, Ireland is a splendid place to visit. Friendly, good food, good music, beautiful scenery, incredibly green and all. But, expensive as heck to move to. We’ve never been poor, but we couldn’t afford Ireland. And (not too surprising) The UK is the same, if not worse. We’ve spent several vacations in the UK, well, England anyway, and Tami has Scots ancestry, but no way could we qualify to move there. Sigh.

England loves their badgers!

The top picture was taken in Dublin; the bottom picture was taken in England.

And, this has gone on long enough. There really will be a subsequent post, so stay tuned for Part Two.

*Okay, it’s just about 250 miles.

Categories
Culture Food France

Holiday Cheer

Wherever this was, was not our house. I did take the picture, though. Wherever it was.

Holiday meals are not the same in France. Take Christmas, for instance, as there is no Thanksgiving. Turkey? Ham? Roast Beef? Nah, probably fish. Lots of fish. And on Christmas day? Nah, not really, but technically yes. The traditional meal is after the midnight mass on Christmas Eve, which is, you see, technically on Christmas day. They eat mainly fish, maybe some duck, sometimes other meats, along with some well prepared side dishes such as vegetables. That’s all great stuff, if you happen to be French. For me, I like a ham or turkey, mashed potatoes, green bean casserole, stuffing (dressing) of your choice, gravy, buttered rolls, plus whatever else they put under my nose, with something like pumpkin pie for desert. That, my friends, is what I call a holiday meal.

Tami and I did have a turkey dinner on Thanksgiving day. We got a turkey, available only on certain occasions in certain stores, but otherwise normal. Er, well, small normal. This guy was about 4.8 kilograms. At 2.2 pounds per kilo, that’s just eleven pounds (almost.) Some of the birds I’ve helped devour in the US would eat an eleven pounder for breakfast, right? Anyway, we had that, and some vegetables, and mashed potatoes, rolls, and not much else because there were only the two of us. So, for Christmas, we invited “orphans” over, and three people came bearing side dishes and desserts. Two Irish ladies and an englishwoman. So there was a lot more food (two turkeys, from which we are still eating) and, to top it off, Tami got me a pumpkin pie at a café in Civray, which she surprised me with on the day. Of course, our guests had some, but I ended up eating about half of that pie myself, and now, now I feel like I’ve had a holiday meal. At long last!

It’s true that, no matter how long I live here, or how well I’m able to speak French, and follow French customs, I will never be “really French.” But, you know that works both ways. I don’t imagine that any native born French person will ever think about pumpkin pie the way I do. Pumpkin pie is a North American dish (hello, Canada) and a novelty at best for a European. They’re missing out, I think, just as they think I’m missing out because I don’t stay up to eat fish at two in the morning. Although the aftermath of the meal will be similar. After the pie, I had a nap, I mean. At two in the morning I’d be lucky not to land face-down in the soup. Same result, different dish. Not so different after all, huh?

Categories
Culture Food France Healthcare Moving to France

Some Moving Advice

I’ve lived in France for about a year and a half now, and I’ve gotten used to it. There was a viral story recently about a couple who went back to America after eleven months. Like others in the “stuff about moving to France” club, that story has inspired me to give a few words of advice. I’m going to skip what I’ve said before, because if you can’t at least say bonjour, au revoir, s’il vous plaît, merci you shouldn’t be considering even visiting France, because you won’t like it here. That said, here is what I am going to write about.

The pace of life is different in France. In America we’re used to having the means to push through to success quickly; the quicker the better, in fact. In France, it pays to be patient. For example, I started trying to apply for my residence permit (carte de long sejour) last February. I managed to do so successfully in April. I had an interview at the Prefecture (county administration is the closest thing in the States) in July, and was told that my card would arrive in November. All is in order. It is now November 26th, and my card has not arrived. There is nothing I can do. My temporary permit runs through mid-February, so I’m legal, so what I do is go on with my life and know that my resident card will, some day, appear in the mail. If that sort of thing seems like something you couldn’t endure, you’ll need to find somewhere else to live. Or stay put, whichever. I got a comment on an expat group that my experience with this was “light speed.” I was worried about this, and quite a lot. Until one day I decided not to worry about it any more, but just to trust the French system to work things out eventually. Not only have I felt better, but things have been happening as expected. Some advice for dealing with French bureaucracy:

  • Be sure that you know everything that you have to submit when first applying for whatever it is you apply for, and gather all of that information and documents before you start.
  • Most things can be applied for online, but you will, at certain times, need to appear somewhere in person and, preferably, interact with a bureaucrat at least mostly in French.
  • It will take forever for you to receive whatever it is that you have applied for. But it’s great when the thing arrives. My latest was my Carte Sanitaire, or national health insurance card. Just relax, live your life as if it will work out, and it almost always will. Work out, I mean.

You will have to learn French. You don’t need to speak like a native, but you have to speak and understand well enough to get along in a French speaking society. This seems reasonable to me, but here are some points about learning French:

  • You cannot learn French quickly. So forget it. If you took French in school, that may help, but the first thing you should do is de-emphasize all the conjugations and grammar and syntax, and emphasize simply conversing in the language. I can’t stress that enough: you must be able to hold normal, non-technical conversations with reasonable ease. You will have an accent. You will mess up. Those things are okay. If you want to fit in to France, you just need to understand basic French, enough to make some small talk, even though French people use a lot less small talk that Americans.
  • It took me four years of intense study to be able to use French at a B1 level, which is the level I discussed above. It’s roughly defined as “able to get along in normal society without undue problems.” You cannot simply devote six weeks to becoming “fluent in French,” which is pretty much a meaningless phrase in the first place.
  • To make it as fast as possible, a couple of things help. Maybe more than a couple. One, use French whenever you can. If they hear your accent and switch to English, bonus for you! I’ve had conversations where I spoke French, and they spoke English, and we’ve gotten along fine. We both got some practice, and we both understood the other person. Ultimately, understanding is the most difficult thing about learning a new language, though, and you’ll have to expose yourself to lots of French. Try French programs on Netflix, with subtitles probably in English initially, and in French as you get better.
  • Written French and spoken French are not the same language. They could be, but Cardinal Richlieu set up the Academie Française to keep the language “pure.” That very idea brings me to “and the horse you rode in on” but it explains why spelling French words is so difficult. There are at least five ways to represent what in English is the sound of a long “A”.

There are things that are almost impossible to get in France. Decent Mexican food, for example. Oh, they have Mexican, but they don’t use spice in it. You can read that again if you find it odd. Mexican food without spice is, well, it isn’t Mexican food. Fruits and vegetables are mostly seasonal, with some exceptions. For instance, right now, Thanksgiving time, you can’t find any strawberries. Turkeys can be hard to come by, although the local Lidl stores had some last week, and they were, while smaller than in the US, pretty ordinary, dressed turkeys. We plan to eat one on Thursday. French food, famous for being wonderful, uses herbs, not spice, so even if they do use some pepper, it won’t be at a level you’re used to. In the supermarkets, the American food section tends to feature Old El Paso. We have found some decent salsa, though, and one local store has a shelf featuring a variety of hot sauce, including Cholula, which is my favorite. You’ll have to learn how to find and/or order cuts of meat or certain vegetables. Zucchini is Courgette. Keep that in mind.

You will need a French drivers’ license. A few states (Ohio and Colorado among them) have reciprocity, most do not. Within one year of moving here you are supposed to have a French license. Without reciprocity you must pass two tests, one written (it’s online) and a practical. They are very strict, but few people fail completely. Keep in mind that it will take several months out of your life to get a license, and plan accordingly.

That’s all for now. When more things occur to me I’ll post them. I hope this helps somebody either decide to move or not, or to organize better before they move. Until next post, Au revoir!

Categories
Culture France reviews

Costa (Fortuna) in Review

Lots of Art Deco Aboard

I didn’t write this review as I was stepping off the ship, because that would have resulted in a terrible review, in more than one sense. Mainly because, as a review, it would have been less than good. Anyhow, here is my real review. I am posting it here because we took ship in Marseilles, and returned to the same place. We drove to Marseille from the south end of 86 (Vienne) in one day, but that won’t happen again. We stopped in the famous town of Carcasonne overnight on the way home, which worked out a lot better.

Costa cruises is not top rated. There is a new company, MSC, that maybe gets worse reviews, but they’re brand new, so maybe they’re still learning. But, honestly, all of the negative reviews are not appropriate. Some are, but not all. The Fortuna is the oldest ship in Costa’s fleet. It was launched in 2003, and last drydocked in 2018. It’s been around the local oceans a few times.

Dawn Breaks Over the Stern

That age factor probably influences some reviewers who perhaps haven’t ever lived in a second-hand house or bought a used car. It does look like maybe it could stand some freshening up, but really, what couldn’t? The Coliseum in Rome was cleaned since we’d been there last, and it looks better, so maybe there’s some justification, but that isn’t the part I considered to be more negative than positive. Another big positive is the food. Even people who hated the ship praised the food, and they were right. It’s all good. Being older than dirt, I am at least, we opted for the early (18:30) seating in the main dining room. There is also a buffet, and specialty restaurants, but the table service was as good as the food. Some people were disappointed that there wasn’t more “Italian” food, but Osso Bucco seems pretty Italian. If you want pizza, you have to go to the pizzaria and buy some. Where we live there’s a good pizza place half a block away, so I was happy to enjoy, among other things, beef Wellington among other excellent fare.

Our room was in the bow, which I don’t recommend. The seas were rough a couple of days, and the noise of he hull slapping the waves can be off-putting. We didn’t choose a stateroom (go amidshps) because we hoped we might get upgraded. They say it happens. This was not Costa’s fault, though. The main dining room was in the stern, a quarter of a mile (about 500 metres) away. We got lots of exercise without even leaving the ship. The room was decent, and everybody was friendly. But (here it comes) it took them about a day to deliver an extra blanket, and a day to rearrange the beds for us. Nothing horrible, but that seems a rather long time for a simple request. But, (here it comes again)

the real negative aspect is that we had very limited time at each port of call.

The Roman Forum suffers from a lack of proper maintenance over the centuries.

Rome was the worst example. The actual port is Civitaveccia, which simply means “The Old City” in Italian (or close, anyway, in Latin.) There’s a more than 90-minute bus ride to Rome. Rome I could also complain about as all those ancient cobblestones make it harder to walk, but that’s for another day. We had 8 to 4:30 in port, take away 3 hours for the bus, and now you have only a few hours to see what’s what in Rome. We had been there before, so it could have been worse. We did get excellent cheeseburgers in an Irish bar. (Sometimes it’s nice to take a break from gourmet dining.) But there wasn’t enough time to really enjoy the city, which, cobbles aside, does have a lot to offer a tourist. Savonna offers bus tours to Monte Carlo and Genoa, but there again, you spend a lot of your day on a bus. There are busses that go through our village, so that’s not the most attractive option. Barcelona was the best (we got to Marseilles early and did some things there before heading to the ship.) There were taxis waiting to take you to the old city (the Gotic) or wherever else you wanted to go.

La Rambla de Catalunya in Barcelona. Lovely street to walk along.

Luckily for us, our favorite restaurant is in Barcelona, and is still in business after 12.5 years, and it still serving excellent food. Phew! It is in the old city. We took a hop-on/hop-off bus, which worked okay, but there is a problem with Barcelona, which is only partly Costa’s fault (and also partly the fault of every other conveyance bringing tourists to the city.

Barcelona is a lovely city, and well worth a visit, but, as an example, we hopped off the buss and walked up about a gazillion steps to a big city park, only to discover that one needs tickets to visit the park, and that they were sold out at ten in the morning. Barcelona is one of several cities considering ways to cut back on tourism, which I understand. At a certain point the income isn’t worth the trouble. I hope they succeed. Think how you’d feel if your city park, the one your taxes pay for, required a paid admission for you to go enjoy the gardens inside. Yoiks!

So, overall, The ship is okay. It’s a discount cruise line, kind of like a discount airline. Some other things that bother some people include that one must buy all of one’s drinks, even morning coffee, except in one breakfast buffet (where I went every day after paying three euros for a caffeelatte the first morning. If you’re into drinking, you might like the “My Drinks” package, but I doubt it, to be honest. We bought drinks as we went along. The only alcohol we drank on the trip was in that restaurant in Barcelona (excellent sangria.) Some other things will cost you, as well, but nothing that we indulged in. The entertainment was a bit below par, too, but oh, well, they do cost a lot less.

Would I cruise with Costa again? Maybe, but not on this ship, as it was the last of the traditional cruise ships. I know from experience that bigger ships are less affected by rough seas, and that’s something worth avoiding. Or, perhaps we’ll just pay more and take a different line. We plan to take a train to Barcelona, or maybe even drive on down. It’s not really further than Marseilles, after all. Seen Rome. Done that.

Categories
France Language

French, Schmench!

This guy lives in France. Photo by the author.

If you’ve tried to learn a foreign language, you will probably appreciate this tale. I have studied French for at least the past five years. Not this week, though. The thing is that I completed the Duolingo French course, which is good, yes? Of course that, along with living in France and interacting in daily life by speaking that language, got me to what is known as a B1 level of mastery, which is to say, lower intermediate French. Especially in comprehension, just finishing Duolingo’s course doesn’t mean that you know French. Trust me on that! English is a tough language to learn. I’ve known quite a few native American English speakers who really aren’t very good at using the English language, so don’t take this wrong, but French has some stupid aspects. Gendered nouns, for instance. Who cares what gender a washing machine is? It’s a washing machine! It has no gender! In America we argue over gender in Humans, for Pete’s sake! Washing machines, grass, automobiles, houses, sidewalks, books, anything at all? That’s nuts! Show me an inanimate object that gives an obese rodent’s derriere about gender, I defy you!

Ahem. And there are other things about French that are silly (and about English, but that’s for another post entirely.) The point I’m making here is that I completed the course and still wasn’t that great at French. But, to be fair, it was better than I was in Spanish back when I completed the Spanish course. They called it “running the tree” and while I could (technically) have a simple conversation in Spanish, I never rose to the level of B1. A2, maybe, which is “advanced beginner.”*

That was the end of my Spanish instruction (on Duolingo at least). For French, though, after the course is over I can, as you might expect, repeat any lesson I wish to, but more than that, there is the “Daily Reminder” that gives me exactly six lessons, including two stories (yay!) every single day, and concentrates on whatever the algorithm has noticed that I need to work on. And, here again don’t get me wrong, it works. I’m advancing toward a B2 (advanced intermediate) level, which is enough to use to apply for French nationality if I wanted to. (What I want is to be comfortable most of the time as I do business in the French language. That’s all.) Last week I hit a wall. I couldn’t remember how to ask for a sandwich, or so it seemed. (Un sandwich, s’il vous plaït.) So this week I did something radical. I have not studied French all week, other than talking with French people from time to time. (Results were, as always, mixed.) But my Duolingo record remains unblemished because in addition to Daily Reminders in French, I’ve gone back to the Spanish course, now much enlarged, where I find that my vocabulary, my biggest obstacle in Spanish for years, is expanding at a fantastic rate. Most weeks I do a few Spanish lessons, but this week it’s mucho de Español cada día. It’s an interesting experiment, which ends after Tomorrow when I return to the world of Daily Reminders in French. So far, I’m feeling a lot better about Spanish, and a lot more willing to return to what is, perforce, my new second language.

Souhaite-moi bonne chance, s’il vous plaît.

You can probably figure out what that means, huh? À ls prochaine!

*I got to “advanced beginner” swim class in twenty minutes flat. Of course, no one asked me to identify the gender of the water . . .

Categories
Culture France Healthcare Moving to France

Bureaucracy

If I live long enough, I may get one of these. (Not my artwork, by the way.)

The image above, from the web site of the agency issuing them, is of a Carte Vitale, which is a card indicating that one is in the French insurance system. I already have a French nombre se securité social, not to be confused with my American Social Security Number, so I am covered, but without the card I must apply for reimbursement of every medical expense (this is automatic with the card, and I can’t buy “top off” or supplemental insurance to make it all free. Also, I can’t set up my éspace sanitaire, or personal online area where I can do all the stuff one needs to do to use the French insurance. You can even link your “top off” insurance, so everything becomes automatic. Swell, huh? Buy why, I know you want to know, do I have that SS number, but not the card? Well . . . . .

First thing I had to do was apply for the social security number. The initial application was one simple page. Short and sweet. Then I heard nothing for quite a spell. Quite a spell. Then I got a letter explaining what my next steps were, which involved filling out the form again only online this time, and sending documentation like proof of residence (electric bill) and ID. Done. Now more time passes. And some more. Then I get a letter telling me how to log into the site to proceed. Which procedure does not work. Thus begins the real fun part. I go online looking for help to log into my account. I get some help. I really want that card, and the only advice I get is not working. I do receive my social security number along about now, but that in itself isn’t sufficient. I am told, finally, by someone whose job it is to dispense useful advice, to log into my account, click on a certain icon, and fill out the forms there. Unfortunately, I can’t log into my account, you may recall. After a week or so of back and forth I got the definitive word: one cannot log into one’s account without that card! Hmmm. I think I see an issue here. So, I fill in the original application, this time with my social security number on it, and mail it in. Two weeks later I get a letter explaining how to get them to send my card, one way being to log in (!) and another using la poste, which was easy enough. I had to send another photocopy of my passport, plus a photograph in the format of a passport photo. I had already sent these items, but hey, I remain optimistic. I may get that card yet this year!

I am not badmouthing the functionaires who handle these things. Even they, in surveys, say that it’s over-the-top. They are all very polite, helpful, and nice to deal with. The overall system? Patience is key. In another example, I applied for my residence card in April, had an appointment in July, and should get my card in November. See? Things do work out. For the patient. Now, on to my drivers’ license.

Categories
Culture France

French Oddities

This is inside the cathedral at Orleans. Not so odd, but quite pretty.

Note that I am not saying any of these things are better or worse than what I was used to, just that they are, you know, kind of odd.

Grocery carts: all four wheels swivel. This means that you can push your cart sideways if you want to. As I recently was in a Kroger outlet in Denver, I can’t say that there’s a distinct advantage overall, but each configuration, all wheels or just the front, has its advantages and drawbacks. Moving sideways is handy in narrow aisles, for instance. But front wheels only is easier to control in general.

Pharmacies: If it is any kind of medicine, even over-the-counter, you must go to a pharmacie (yeah, a pharmacy) to buy it. No grabbing a jar of aspirin at the grocery store. This isn’t so bad, but the package sizes are smaller, so I stock up on over-the-counter meds when I’m in the States. Also, of course, there’s nothing to buy at a pharmacie that isn’t medically related. No Doritos, swimming suits, or chocolates in these places.

Prescriptions: Of course, you go the pharmacie, where they will not count pills or other doses, rather they will give you a box of whatever it is. The prescription will be written for enough to last a certain amount of time, six months in the case of something you take every day. If the first box doesn’t cover it, the pharmacist stamps the scrip, gives it back, and you go back for the rest.

Potato Chips: They do, in fact, call these things potato chips. Those fried things the English call chips are frites, or in English, fries. But the chips aren’t what’s odd. They’re the same as in the US, and in fact Lay’s has a major presence in France. What is odd is that in most stores, they are not sold with the other snack foods like pretzels, cheese balls, or Doritos. This is because in France, potato chips have always been considered as a part of an actual meal, and are therefore usually out with the other “real” food. The largest store in our area moved the chips to the snack row recently, though, so perhaps this is changing. Or maybe it’s the seven percent British population, because brits eat their crisps the same way we eat our chips. You know, en masse!

House Numbers: Napoleon didn’t really invent house numbers, but he did standardize how they’re used in France. A few years ago it was decided that, what with all the online ordering and all, every house must have one, so places that were “In the butchers’ street” became, for instance, 12 rue de la bucherie. If there is a second address on the same property, that would be 12 rue de la bucherie bis. A third, 12 rue de la bucherie tri, and so on. Buildings of apartments or offices are more normal, with floor and suite numbers. And speaking of floors:

Floor numbering in buildings: The ground floor, or res de chaussé, is either not numbered at all, because, well, it’s the planet, right? If it has a number, such as in an elevator in a public building, it is 0 (zero). One floor up, what you’d call the second floor, is the premier étage or first floor. If there is a second floor it’s above that, and so on. Nobody cares two centimes about the number 13, so there will be a 13th floor in a building if it’s tall enough, and the same is true of every other number. I have noticed that in the US, the scheme of ground floor, then 1, then 2, etc. is used, but only in parking garages.

That’s enough. I don’t want to bore everyone. I will undoubtedly post more things I find odd about France in the future. See you there!

Categories
France Social Commentary

What the USA Does Well

In my opinion, that is . . .

Plenty of my fellow citizens are enjoying what has turned out to be a historic opportunity to talk about everything that’s wrong with our country. It’s THEM! Uh, okay, that isn’t what this is about. After almost a year and a half of living abroad, here are some things I think that the United States does quite a good job at.

  1. Entertainment options. Okay, there is an argument about bread and circuses, but please don’t comment about that. The quality of the entertainment is what I’m writing about, and, frankly, the US puts out some truly excellent stuff. Something for everyone? I believe so. Any one thing for everyone? Heaven’s no! Maybe you don’t like country music, or pop, or Marvel Universe Movies? Fine, why should you? There are books, movies, and streaming programs of every conceivable genre available 24/7. Don’t get me wrong: there are some great programs produced in Europe, too. I like French police procedurals, but there are only so many of them, and they tend to be compared to American productions. Yes, Capitaine Marlow does owe something to Columbo, it even says so in the blurb for the program. But remember who came up with Columbo, and it wasn’t a French producer.
  2. Maintenance of Public Conveniences. I’m mostly writing here about elevators and escalators, moving sidewalks, things commonly found in airports and such places. Sometimes these things break down in the US, and sometimes it takes a few days for them to be repaired. Consider, though, that in the spring of 2022 the elevator in a parking garage adjacent to the Poitiers train station was out of service, and it was still out of service in the spring of 2023, and that it still out of service to this day! Also at Poitiers, one of the escalators leading to the old city from the train station was down last time I was there. At Charles de Gaulle airport there is always at least one moving sidewalk out of commission. It’s at least a quarter mile from where International flights drop you to the train station, at least. France is proud of it’s history of innovative and genius-level inventors and mechanical engineers. They put high-tech satellites into orbit using French designed and built rockets, short story, they do have the talent and ability to keep everything running sharp, but, alas, everything runneth not sharp. Americans are pretty intolerant of inoperable technology, mainly because it’s rare to encounter much of it. Nice job, America!
  3. Bureaucracy. What? Am I kidding? It’s enough to smother you! Not really, compared to what you find in other countries. I applied for my residence permit in April, had my interview for it in July, and should receive my permit in November, I hope, as my visa expired in May. I’m not sure why I don’t have my insurance card. I have a number, I can get reimbursement for medical expenses, but I have no card, after many months. I should be getting a number that will let me take the online drivers’ test at the post office any day now. Will I? Who knows? Other countries endure similar bureaucratic fun. No, friends, the United States has one of the most transparent and easily navigated bureaucratic structures amongst developed countries. We have it easy, please believe that.

Well, that will do for now. I do think that there are things that France does better than the US, but to a remarkable extent, those things are being discussed in connection with the Presidential election, so I’ll just refer you to that ongoing flurry of discussion for more. This blog is actually about moving to France, so next time I’ll be writing about some things about France that I find a mite peculiar.

Ciao!

Categories
Culture France

Back from the USA

For the record, I really was Born in the USA, and I know what that Springsteen song is really about!

I was in Denver, and for a few hours, in Las Vegas, for the past two weeks. Yesterday I mostly sat like a lump wondering what happened (if you’ve never travelled 8 or 9 time zones east overnight, you might think I was being lazy or something.) Today, I’m back, mostly, and here are some impressions of the USA after I was away for over fifteen months.

First, those commercials! Many Americans report being anxious and worried, and I think I know why. Good grief, you can’t even see an ad for a sandwich without hearing YOU JUST HAVE TO BUYL THIS BURGER!!!!

Uh, sure. I guess. And that’s just for one sandwich at one fast food joint. You know, folks, psychological research has determined that upset people buy more stuff, so do you think it’s a coincidence that the news, and even the ads, are designed to keep you on edge? Do you? Hmmm? There are plenty of ads in France, but few are edgy. Some are funny. And I remember one that involved singing vaginas. No kidding, and one of them was attached to a real human. That was odd, even for France, but not upsetting. Are the children of France morally destroyed after seeing that? I just report, you decide. I’ve noticed a lot of American ads that seem to set the viewer up for disappointment. For instance, no matter how nice a car you buy, you’ll never get to park directly in front of the opera house and walk in smiling. It just ain’t gonna happen. Also, one car is a lot like another, no matter how much you tell yourself otherwise, and the traffic is just as terrible in a Lexus as it is in a ’68 Superbeetle. It sucks in French cities, too, but no car ad suggests that it’s particular brand will offer any relief. They simply ignore the unpleasant parts of automobile ownership.

America bustles compared to rural France, but then I suppose it bustles compared to rural America. It feels good to be able to slow down a bit and catch my breath, as it were.

Americans really do talk loudly, although I can say from local (in my village) experience that Brits talk louder. Still, French people frown on loud speech in public, and I noticed the difference. It didn’t bother me (I was born there, remember) but I did notice a higher volume. This, I suppose, goes along with the general level of anxiety, or maybe the music they play in restaurants, as French restaurants don’t have any background sound playing. And, to be fair, the worst experience, noise-wise, I’ve had in France was in Paris, in a restaurant with a table full of drunken French people.

Which brings up another phenomenon. Americans drink more than the French. And, in America, being drunk is laughed at. In France, it’s severely discouraged. Nobody in that restaurant was laughing about those drunks in the corner. Alcohol is important here, but drinking too much is a big no-no. And, quick aside, beer has replaced wine as the top selling alcohol in France. True story. A lot of bars sell Budweiser, in fact.

American roads are generally better, in the sense that they are roomier and easier to navigate. That’s the good part, because they’re also in a lot worse shape in terms of rough pavement and potholes.

All that said, the people are remarkably similar. If you’re nice to them, they’re nice right back to you. In America that means saying Hi or something similar and smiling a lot. In France you can skip the smile, but do say hello, which is in fact bonjour. In both countries we found plenty of helpful people, and of course a few, uh, you know. Mostly, though, everyone is pretty nice on either side of the Atlantic, and that’s encouraging.

I’ll be back with more next week. Some things America does well, and poorly, coming soon to a browser near you!

Ciao!*

*Ciao is a typical way for friends to say goodbye in France, and yes, that is Italian.

Categories
Culture France Healthcare

Sheesh, Those French!

Last week I posted about some things I think France does really well. There is a flip side, of course, and here it is, according to moi.

1 Roads

France has some beautiful highways. The Autoroutes are the best, with speed limits a bit above 80 mph, beautiful construction, excellent maintenance, and tolls. Rather steep tolls. But that isn’t the problem.

There are also “Limited Access Roads” such as the N10 which passes near us, and is the quick way to Poitiers and Angouleme (and the A10 Autoroute, come to that.) It is mostly what we’d call a freeway, but there are sections with intersections where the speed limit drops to about 55 mph, and the top speed is 110 kph, or about 65 mph. But that isn’t the problem, either.

A Limited Access Highway.

Down a notch we find the main roads of France, which are usually two lanes wide, and generally have center lines and edge lines. They look like this:

Many are straight. I thought this was due to the Romans, but actually Napoleon started straightening them to move his troops faster, and other administrations liked the idea so much that they kept up the practice. Actual Roman roads do curve around sometimes, although you’ll seldom hear that mentioned.

The speed limit on main roads is 90 if they’re good and wide and straight, the default speed limit is 80. The roads are found in narrower and narrower sections as you travel around. First the edge lines disappear, then the center line degrades into a series of dots and disappears all together. A lot of common roads around where we live are about as wide as the one here:

A country lane. What doesn’t show is the curves, the way you can’t see oncoming traffic due to bends and crops (yes, crops; maize (corn) is pretty tall you know,) and the uncertainty that one feels when one sees an oncoming vehicle. Unless it’s farm equipment, then one is not uncertain because one gets out of the way!

Speaking of Roman roads, there is one in town. Here’s a picture of it:

Notice how it turns in from stage right? It’s a part of the roads Agrippa made for Augustus when Gallia was first getting organized. I think it was about 13bc. I don’t think they used Macadam.

2. Non-emergency medical specialist visits

I was referred to a cardiologist last April. I went to the office (in a nice hospital) with my referral form, and got an appointment Next October tenth. The condition is that a-fib you probably have seen advertised somewhere. It isn’t dangerous, but it’s a serious nuisance. This only applies to non-emergency services. If you’re in an accident, or really ill, you get right in and receive the care you require. But, six months? Sheesh!

3. Prompt response from tradespeople and others

It isn’t always that you can wait an eternity for a tradesperson to get back to you, but it happens. I’ve had a couple of electricians come out, look at what we wanted done, say they’d get back to me and then fade out like a ghost. This is sad because we do need some electrical work done. France is slower paced in general, but I mean a case where a customer (client in French) is forgotten entirely. Another example of French attitudes toward custom is that estate agents do not work Sundays (the British one we bought from did, so there!) They will tell a potential customer that they are simply too busy, and oh, I don’t work Sundays at all. I was a (Real) Estate Agent for six years. I would never have said anything like that. Nor would anyone in sales. Also, there is no MLS, so you need to find an agent from the agency listing the house you want to see.

4. Supermarket organization

Not where they put stuff. Just like in America, those stores rearrange at intervals to keep you on your toes or whatever. I mean that, for instance, rather than have people come in at say 4 in the morning to stock the place, they have the stockers hauling hand trucks of pallets full of merchandise during peak shopping hours. The loads passing down the aisles are a lot like combines on narrow roads: you get out of the way. Why do they do this? I have no idea. Union resistance? Inertia? The management enjoys watching customers scatter like tenpins when the big pallet rolls through? Heck, you tell me!

5. Over-the-counter medications

Sure, you can get them. Pretty much anything you can buy in the US you can buy in France. Except, if it is at all a drug, you must go to a pharmacie to buy it. Aspirin? Pharmacy. Athlete’s foot creme? Pharmacy. Vitamins are not considered drugs, so you can buy them in the supermarket. Likewise CBD oil is not a drug, and you can even mail order it. I find it irritating to have to make a special stop at a specialty store just to get a simple bit of medicine. Also, the packages are smaller, so you end up going back more often. Luckily aspirin and the like are light and easy to bring back from America and good old (WalMart, CVS, Walgreen’s, Kroger, etc.)

That’s five pros and five cons, and that’s enough for now. This blog is sort of stream of consciousness, so perhaps I’ll return to this topic again sometime. You never know unless you follow along. Feel free, please, to follow along!