Our French Integration – Two Years on

Posted on April 8, 2025April 8, 2025 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, France, French, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, The French Life, Travel, Voyage en FranceTagged #photography, #travel, France2 Comments

What that really means is two years in our house in Southwest France; we officially arrived in November 2022. Upon reflection, it has actually been four years since we embarked on the rather ambitious plan to RV through the US and Canada, then sell up and move to France. This of course required copious amounts of planning and navigating a plethora of unforeseen circumstances, but here we are now, finally settled in.

Many echo the sentiment that it takes around two years to get situated here and I concur; navigating the initial long-stay visa to even get into France, the fantastical amounts of paperwork to get into the healthcare system (where documents are lost or mangled on a regular basis), and then applying for a first year-long stay visa (more mounds of paperwork and much of it is done by snail mail). And that’s not all!! For me, since, unlike my husband who is also British and can follow the Brexit rules, I had to obtain a driver’s license since I would not be allowed to drive after the first year in France on my US license. Since I was not from a “reciprocal state,” I had to embark on what turned out to be a rather expensive two-year journey of getting bounced around the system, studying and exams – and to both of our relief – I am now able to drive throughout the EU and UK! So some US citizens can exchange their license which means they really don’t know the rules – so the good thing that came out of this was I actually know how to stay out of trouble on the roads.

We also had the added challenge of finding a house and were very lucky to snatch up a lovely, affordable country home with a converted barn (gite). All of this required extensive networking, language challenges, and we were grateful that we had the helping hand of British bilingual agents, and to our delight a lovely country neighborhood with a mix of French, Dutch and British citizens. It really does take a village to get established, and after literally years of being on the move or dealing with the French systems and culture, and with our home improvements winding down, we are finally starting to feel settled.

A beautiful spring day

The French are making it a bit more challenging to retire here; if you are under 65 when you apply for your 10 year Visa (this happens after you have been a resident for five years), you are required to test for intermediate French which is no small feat. Many early retirees have been blind-sided by this and are scrambling to qualify for the test. We fortunately dodged that bullet (currently being 65 or older and our ten-year visa is still a few years out), but are looking to get a tutor regardless as we love the language and want to be able to better navigate the systems here. Thankfully the French can be very forgiving if they know you are making an effort.

Many would view our life as living in this bucolic fantasyland – partly because when most people think of France they think of Paris, Bordeaux or the Med. There is a fascinating term connected to this called “Paris Syndrome,” described as experiencing a sense of extreme disappointment exhibited by some individuals when visiting Paris, who feel that the city was not what they had expected.

The syndrome is characterized by symptoms such as acute delusional states, hallucinations, feelings of persecution (perceptions of being a victim of prejudice, aggression, hostility from others), derealization, depersonalization, anxiety, as well as psychosomatic manifestations such as dizziness, tachycardia, sweating most notably, but also others, such as vomiting.

Paris Syndrome

This afflicts primarily Asian, especially the Japanese populations, and in my opinion has to do not only with managing expectations and aspects of the fantasy world known as Paris, but about life in general not living up to expectations.

France is one of the most touristed destinations in the world; verdant vineyards, rows of heavenly lavender, medieval villages, stunning chateaus and some of the best food in the world and…Paris of course! What’s not to like about this “utopia.”

Recently a retired couple was featured on CNN about their terrible experiences when moving to the Nice area; referring to the vegetable racks full of limp celery and other such fake news that the local blogs lit up with the affection of “move back to the U.S.”

While it’s not all wine and roses, especially with the drastically inefficient government systems when it comes to visas, getting into the healthcare system (which once accomplished introduces you to some of the best medical communities in the world), getting a driver’s licenses (that may warrant finding a therapist to recover) and navigating the dual taxation systems…once you have overcome these sometimes mind-numbing challenges, the smiling faces of those fields of sunflowers take on a whole new perspective.

As for limp celery I almost feel that the French should sue this couple for defamation! We live in an area of green rolling hills, vineyards, fertile fields and are front and center on how hard the farmers work here. Contrary to what some people think, most of the French are not lazy – they just take their time. Granted, they don’t fire anyone due to union protections, but even their colleagues work around their less-than-competent cohorts (who in my opinion should be fired by any standards based on my occasional encounters) to provide in many cases superior customer service. There is a national pride here, and unless you’re rifling around someone’s garbage I have never seen limp produce in any market anywhere – oh except for the “ugly vegetable bin” where leftover produce is sold for virtually nothing.

They are an entitled bunch in that the government workers typically work a 30 hour week and retire early but that’s due to the social programs that have been instilled for decades. The French people will never go bankrupt due to credit card debt or medical issues; we were issued a debit card – not a credit card and if you make a big purchase you can’t afford right away, you set up installment payments.

They also love to talk, sucking up the airwaves with whatever gossip or issues that require a well thought-out review. They take their time at the “marche” checkout as the store isn’t just for shopping, they block the isles in chattering clutches, having a good catch up on whatever is going on in their lives.

Yet, they can be very forgiving of our poor French and appreciate the effort. And will take the opportunity to practice their English – sometimes to our disappointment.

But it’s not all about the picture-perfect lavender fields in Provence or the striped umbrellas in Nice.

Here are some observations I’ve made in my last few years as an immigrant that definitely keeps the reality of France in check:

The roads are in great shape and they always seem to be improving them – yet the government buildings in general are pretty run down from an aesthetic perspective; they are typically boxy-like stone buildings in desperate need of pressure washing and while efforts were initially made for landscaping most of them are overgrown with weeds. It’s similar in many of the strip malls depending on where you go. The medical buildings are very similar depending on the practice and can be very utilitarian. My stereotypes were definitely realigned after my first year here. This is so different from the US where public areas typically boast formal gardens and well-kept buildings.

While some of this may not appeal to my aesthetic ideals, I find that garbage isn’t a thing – you rarely see any garbage on the side of any roads or strewn about the villages. Derelict vehicles and furniture dumping that is so common in Portland is not a thing here; you get a serious fine here if you get caught. We do see some of it (rarely) tucked away where the authorities don’t venture but it is the exception rather than the rule.

On the flip side of that, the town centers are where you find the classic medieval structures and cobblestoned streets with quaint shops and lovely bistros. This falls into the idea of maintaining the essence of classical French ambiance. As we have discovered, if you decide to put a structure on your property, especially if it is anywhere near a tourist area, you need permission and it must be in keeping with the surrounding aesthetic.

During the tourist season, brace yourself for this one, many of the French retreat to McDonalds, Kentucky Fried Chicken and Burger King! Primarily to get away from the tourists at the over crowded bistros. We have been in these fast-food establishments and they keep quite busy, especially for families who don’t want to be bothered by the crowds. The menu is similar to the US except the ingredients are local and definitely taste less processed. There are no swirly soft-scoop ice cream cones though, but they use that same ice cream for their sundaes so I can still get my fix regardless.

The French are perfectionists when it comes to their culinary reputation, and their castles, gardens, boulangerie, chocolateries are the some of the most exceptional in the world. And that is true for the area that we live in; our local chocolatier has the best hot chocolate (chocolat chaud) that rivals what you would find in Paris. Add some Chantilly Crème and you immerse yourself into a heavenly delight.

Yet, in the countryside they don’t care much for Parisians and their designer clothes and perfectly coiffed hair. Out here, while we don’t dress like slobs, it’s much more relaxed and we can go into the local village with sweatshirts and tights (they usually wear jeans or tasteful slacks) and actually fit in. If we’re going to “town” – meaning with a larger population like Bergerac, then we dress up a bit more that usually includes a scarf. The fashion is understated and in some cases tastefully chic.

Now, getting down to the nitty, gritty issues that can easily miff Americans and Brits (and even some of the French):

EDF, the electrical company here at times just shuts down the electrical to your house. Sometimes they will give you a notice, but rarely do they follow the actual schedule. When they are working on something in the vicinity we experience the occasional surge that has been know to blow out some of our electronics – despite having an electrician installing heavy duty protectors. Yet we have fiber optic running to our house and we are rather remote! We have good wi-fi and with our VPN having been enjoying all the US and UK streaming services😍

They do the same thing with the water – you will get a warning and thinking you have a half hour before they shut it down – boom! You have no water. We make a point to keep gallons handy in the cellar…just in case.

If you decide to rent a car here, you will experience the manic drivers – especially if there is a black Audi involved. The countryside is not really policed so many will tear by you at 20-30 KPH over the speed limit, cross a white line on a curve, or if they can’t maneuver around you they will be right on your bum thinking you are going to go faster = not. They violate most of the Code de la Route (of which I’m rather an expert in now); it’s as though they go through the pain of passing the tests and then are possessed by some evil spirit.

The two hour lunches are a bother when you forget that – oh yeah, the local hardware store (brico) or pharmacy is closed because the French feeding time is from 12-2:00. In the larger towns (think Bordeaux or Toulouse), it’s not so much of an issue but you still have to rush around before noon if you are going to one of the shops that religiously adheres by this rule. And after lunch the restaurants close down – usually by 3:00 and don’t open back up until 7:00. This is true except for the fast food chains such as McDonalds, KFC, Burger King etc. So don’t expect to grab an early dinner unless you want to get some “grab and go” from the local supermarket.

And don’t expect anything to be open on Sunday – you may find a boulangerie open in the morning (as you can imagine baguettes and a fantastic array of breads are on ritualistic display -we’ve seen locals come out with armfuls), but when we moved here we were quite shocked to find even the big box supermarkets closed down for the day!

Getting over-the-counter meds requires a trip to the pharmacy: Je voudrais de l’ibuprofen s’il vous plaît – and you can only get one packet at a time of about 10. The same goes for the cold medications or anything that is viewed as a drug. So no bottles of 30-90 count ibuprofen from Safeway like back in the states.

It is so counter-intuitive to our life in the U.S.

We will be off to Paris again soon and I will blog about some of the less-touristed sites we will be visiting…and more on the quirks of being a Francophile!

The Renault we bought in November 2022 that has since motored us through France, Italy, Belgium and the UK – that I can now drive!

March 2024 Our Dream Maison a Year Later

Posted on March 1, 2024 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, Photography, The French Life, Voyage en FranceTagged #france, #francophile, #maison, #photography, #spring, europe, France, paris, Photography, TravelLeave a comment

Was it really a year ago that we collected the keys and took possession of a decade-old dream of moving to France? Sure, the expectation was to be excited beyond belief, yet we found that our elation had been replaced with relief, excitement with anticipation; our foray into the French delivery system (as in goods), as I would soon learn, begged the same treatment as an entire chapter out of a Peter Mayle novel. It’s difficult to invoke the anticipated glassy-eyed euphoria since we had nothing to sleep on 😁 and soon learned our bed had gone MIA, though we did have our washer, dryer, freezer and TV delivered as promised, so were far better than anyone on the Gaza Strip. And…having an established address cures so many of the French administration requirements for “proof of residency,” as we now have utility bills to prove we are in fact residents. So there👈

We did manage to get our bed, a manic adventure that warranted more than a good night’s sleep. While we were living the spare life, we had plenty to do before our container arrived, including curating furniture to replace what we had divested back in Oregon. We ventured to brocantes and online shops to find pieces that would fit the theme of our new digs. I also managed to get the paint color matched up, again much to my relief, but then to my dismay discovered the lack of coverage (as in watery thin) and ridiculous price for 3 liters of paint could only be made up by wine, cheese and copious amounts of baguettes. Sure, I could find some cheap and cheerful color knock-offs, but they wouldn’t match the color that the majority of the interior was painted in. And it was a nice warm cream color that enhanced the amber and gold light that blessed our mornings and evenings that make Southwest France so appealing. You have to make concessions every once in a while.

Master bedroom before and after

Dining room before and after

Terrace before and after

Even though it’s been a year we are still finding a home for some of items, especially our artwork.

Bob’s birthday lands in January and we opted to go to the lovely L’Atelier, that was once a Michelin star restaurant, and still provides the same level of service and outstanding food presentation; in fact they were ranked #1 by National Geographic for food lovers exploring the culinary delights of France. This, mind you, is a few minutes from our house in the charming bastide of Issigeac. Being that it was chilly, and a Sunday, I decided it was best to make reservations as the French tend to flutter into the local restaurants after Sunday church services and al fresco was not on the menu. We scored a lovely table next to the cavernous dining room fireplace. And as predicted, we were soon surrounded by what appeared to be some rather well-off Brits and French floating in for a long “repas” or meal.

L’ Atelier on a summer day

Much to my surprise they had the black squid-ink pasta; I had tried to obtain this delicacy in Venice, but it wasn’t on the menu of the restaurant that was recommended to us. The meal was your standard two hour French affair with the added bonus of the artistic flair and mouth-watering delights that the French are famous for. In America, in a small town of this nature I would be lucky to find a Denny’s! We have visited our fair share of “greasy spoons”, though tragically I do miss the Denny’s grand slam breakfast with the hash browns and American bacon. We have to settle for the British variety of bacon which isn’t exactly the same, but not all is lost as we have been able to obtain Bisquick for an occasional pancake feast.

After enduring the torrential rains of last fall, January saw a dip in temperatures, but unlike our friends in Portland, Oregon who had sub-freezing temperatures, with trees collapsing on their homes and their pipes bursting, we had our heat pumps and wood stove to keep us cozy.

We welcomed a thick layer of frost that enveloped the surrounding fields like a dusting of snow, making for a dreamy albeit bracing experience upon exiting the house. When the sun burst through, it disrupted the vision causing temporary blindness, with its threat of rainbows and warmth, it otherwise was a tease and never really warmed up for the entire day. This only lasted for about a week and then we went to the other extreme with temperatures cresting 60 degrees; confusing the bees – though the butterflies apparently couldn’t be bothered; I don’t know that bees are dumber than butterflies but they were having some challenges to say the least.

The weather finally leveled out to more normal temperatures for February, thankfully without the flooding we had in the fall. Everyone says spring has come a month early; the rosemary is blooming giving the bees something to feast on and the mock cherry trees are even budding, providing some healthy competition to the daffodils.

We are now falling into a bit of routine with our weekly trips to the Saturday Market in Villereal. Villereal is small (a whopping 1200 residents) but is a bustling community that supports the surrounding population and is rather crowded during the tourist season. We aren’t near any really large cities, both Bergerac and Villeneuve-sur-lot are 22 – 27,000 inhabitants respectively, and are only a half hour away through the valley, interrupted only by the occasional commune or bastide. They have everything we need including most of the French big box chains and charming medieval city centers where you can grab a cuppa and watch the world go by. We are over two hours from Bordeaux and further southeast lies Toulouse. Toulouse is one of the largest cities in France and is another couple of hours away; it’s not quite on the scale as Seattle but it sure has the population density feel to it. It has a good airport and we tend towards flying out of there so we aren’t stuck with the Ryan air cheap-seats out of Bergerac which is fine if you’re going to Paris but not anyplace much further. They both have Ikea and just about everything you could possibly need including better options for Asian faire.

Suffice it to say we are a respectable distance from any major centers and Villereal, with our doctors, nail and hair salons only ten minutes down the road. Heck I would drive that far in Portland for many of my appointments anyway! Here we glide through the backroads of countryside, vineyards, orchards, and rustic farms to our appointments. There’s also a smattering of horse stables nearby and we have on occasion have had to slow down to let riders and trotters (with carriages) pass. It takes a bit getting used to and adds to the local charm.

Our upgrades on the house continue – though not the major renovations like we did in 2023; we had guttering installed on the south side of the house to mitigate the problems with flooding in the cellar (not to be confused with some magical wine cave as it houses the boiler, washer and freezer), we will be able to capture more water and also pump the overflow away from the house into the nearby field. The rest of the house had guttering except for this side for some reason.

I completed the painting and the floor treatment in the upstairs hallway; my aging body is glad this is now completed and in recovery. The hallway had been bit of a train wreck for a while with unpacked boxes and “stuff” that was placed there to be attended to “another day.” It appeared the floors hadn’t been touched in decades and some stain and wax gave them a lovely rustic patina. We now have a gallery wall to include some of my photography and art collections and books. I love using picture ledges as they give you more freedom on appointing art without copious amounts of wall-banging. These walls are thankfully drywall, but much of the house is stone so one must use discretion.

Upstairs hallway updates

The wall leading to the office is what I have deemed a “memory wall” (in progress) so we can reflect upon our loved-ones, living and passed on, as go about dealing with the copious amounts of paperwork required to maintain our existence in France.

In the meantime, Bob has been turning over the garden plot with manure and compost so we can get some planting done this year. Our water tank is in the ground and operational; we are certainly not lacking water right now with unprecedented rain systems hitting us, but we could wind up with a summer drought at which time we’ll be thankful for the water buts and tanks. We have an additional tank (but) installed on the northwest side of the house to water the “acid garden” which will include the blueberries that we will be planting in the next month. Otherwise, we are still navigating the mud-scape but will be planting grass soon and look forward to the pool area being landscaped later this year.

We are also invited to a feast sponsored by the commune (Doudrac) where we were introduced as new residents – we are the only Americans in this vicinity so are a bit of a novelty; it seems everywhere we go when they find out we’re Americans they seem so pleased; I took my ankle boots to the cordonnier (shoe repair shop) in Eymet which is a British enclave not too far from us – when he looked at my boots he said they were very good and I mentioned they are American and that I’m American – he thought it was the coolest thing! I can only assume it’s due to the popularity of American items in France and also our efforts during the war. We are always very welcomed pretty much everywhere we go. We are now able to hold down some albeit stilted conversations in French when we visit the market or the pharmacy which is rather exciting.

We are looking forward to spring and getting our vegetable plot going, known in France as a potager. Bob is also designing a flower garden that will include gladiolus, dhalias and an array of wild flowers.

In May are planning a trip to the UK, specifically Wales, to enjoy a barge trip through the Welsh countryside and catching up with relatives. More to come on our spring exploits!

…Now for a French moment:

French farmers block the streets of Paris in protest of too many restrictions and too many exports of foreign produce. This mayhem extended all the way to our area including spewing manure on McDonalds, supermarket chains and government buildings 💩

September 2023 – Our First Summer in France

Posted on September 21, 2023September 21, 2023 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, The French Life, Travel, Voyage en FranceLeave a comment

Avoir à l’été

Where did the summer go? We celebrated the 4th of July on the 8th😂. Granted it seems like eons ago but it is part of summer yes? It was hot but we still had a good turn out. Some of the food was a bit of a novelty to some of our non-American friends but we had fun all the same.

4th (8th) of July Celebration

We kept hearing the stories of the horrific heat waves last year – the temperatures nearing 110 degrees Fahrenheit for weeks. This year, while we have had some hot periods in the 90’s, we experienced a contradiction of cool weather during July, literally digging out our fleeces and being relegated to indoor projects as we navigated several days of passing showers.

But never fear, we also had the Tour de France that we were able to watch live on Peacock!!! In the U.S. we would have had to record it and watch it in the evenings.

The cool weather soon broke and we were blessed with glorious days in the 70’s – sometimes breaching the 80’s that made for some pleasant bike rides through the countryside. We ventured one day, albeit windy, to Issigeac (about 20km from our house and yet another “beaux village.”) We wound up lunching near the medieval church, leaving our bikes in the shade and security of its ancient entrance – they seemed quite content there actually.

Bob’s brother and sister-in-law came for a short visit on their way to meet up with their kids just outside of Paris. We spent a nice day catching up and thankfully the weather was sunny and pleasant; I had been worried it might be too hot and we didn’t have the air conditioning installed yet; those projects were moved to September due to supply chain issues (no surprise there really), so we are praying that we didn’t get hit with too much extreme heat between now and then. We have also been on the hunt for landscaping help with the pool area as it is reminiscent of Death Valley with the clay starting to crack from the summer heat. At least the pool surround is graveled and we typically do our laps in the late afternoon heat; we haven’t yet figured out the “lounging” bit but suspect we’ll get there at some point.

Now that he have entered the dog days of summer, the sunflowers have begun to hang their heads as if in a state of despair, their beautiful petals shriveled beyond repair. I didn’t record this event as it was too much to bear.

Many of the shops close down for most of August – some with door signage indicating their return sometime in September. This doesn’t apply to the heavily touristed spots that brace themselves for the onslaught of vacationers from the north; the French, Dutch and English swarm this area with their campers, tents (yes – lots of camp sites – many hosted by chateaus) and of course vacation rentals.

We ventured to a few brocantes, at this juncture to get some ideas of what we can eventually collect for the garden as they have lovely old urns and vases on display.

The Brocante in Monflanquin #beauxvillage

The summer festivals are now in full swing and we have been either hosting dinners or being invited to an evening soirée here and there. We have been “collecting” the occasional American(s) we meet by chance or through our network. Interestingly, there is a prevailing theme of “isolation” when engaging them. Granted, there are plenty of British in the area, but they tend to self-segregate so it’s not the same bonding experience as being with a fellow American, as what one of my friends said “especially west coast Americans!” We also gravitate towards the familiar as a form of comfort.

One evening we attended a Spanish-themed festival hosted by our local commune of Doudrac. The commune is a pleasant walk from our house and we were also meeting some of our English-speaking neighbors there and we naturally segregated to our own English-speaking table. This event was complete with huge plates of paella, bread (of course), sangria and bottles of wine. There was a stage set with a band so we were tucked in for an interesting experience, surrounded by our French neighbors who must have come for miles – I think there were around 100 people attending the festival – the essence of the local farming community. It was a gorgeous night and the constellations were on full display.

The band began to strike up their tunes, they played some English ballads, but most were in French and then they switched to some hybrid-Franco American-country western tunes at which time the dance area became flooded with line dancers! Well this really got the party going, and the two-man band started to get pretty loud, but just as they were entering the peak of one of their songs, the power went out and we all sat in absolute darkness, until the phones started illuminating the picnic tables and the conversations became animated. Luckily the power came back on at which time the lead singer decided to take the sound up a few notches, his opening gambit was so loud we almost fell over in our seats. I even saw people at the neighboring tables jump at his unexpected tsunami-level voice. Unfortunately, a few of us got such a case of the giggles we had tears streaming down our faces and were hoping we weren’t embarrassing ourselves.

All in all it was a lovely evening and we walked home around midnight in the absolute darkness of the countryside, the band fading as we paused and marveled at the starry sky, then crashed for the evening.

Now that some interesting movies have come out, we decided it was time to experience a French cinema; we have gone to the theater twice now, as they host screenings in their original English format with French subtitles (VOST = version original with subtitles). This works out great for us and we caught the new Indiana Jones movie as well as Oppenheimer. As far as the concession stands go, the popcorn here isn’t buttered but still tastes fine with just salt, and they carry many of the American chocolate bars, licorice etc. if you are in the mood for a bit of nostalgia.

One of my new American friends invited me to an outdoor ballet. It was a Spanish-them production staged by one of France’s premier choreographers, set at the stunning Chateau de Biron. Overlooking that valley, as so many here are, this stately structure houses art and performances throughout much of the year. The open air theater is especially lovely as you are graced by red sunsets that sweep across the valley that gradually fades into a starry sky, with only the dim lights of the area communes reminding us that it’s not altogether primitive despite your surroundings suggesting such.

As the stars emerged, the dancers swayed to Ravel’s Bolero, crowned by the Big Dipper that dominated the night sky. It was surprisingly cold and windy, eventually requiring three layers! This was apparently due to the elevation and trajectory of the weather inherent to the chateau…it was reminiscent of being on the Oregon coast in the middle of summer. We endured the cold, refraining from pronouncing too many expletives and in wonderment of how the women wearing open-toed shoes were faring. All in all it was a lovely experience and only a fifteen minute drive from our house so we are eager to attend more events.

Chateau de Biron (note not my image – I don’t own a drone)

As the heat of August began to reign over the region we were once again slammed with some pretty spectacular thunderstorms, mostly in the middle of the night, unfortunately leaving us somewhat sleep deprived; one storm cut the power and I got another trial-by-fire experience getting our electricity back up; turns out only a few houses in the area were affected and fortunately the process turned out to be pretty simple…after I finished torturing the polite operator with my Franglish she transferred me to someone who had suitable enough English and could help me reboot our “Linky” system. I am now triumphant in the knowledge I can get our systems back online averting an impending disaster like soupy ice cream.

During the August weather chaos the skies cleared up enough for us to witness the Perseid Meteor shower; we emerged at 2:00 a.m. and made our way to the poolside where we had the best view from our loungers. While we sat in awe of the Milky Way watching the meteors streak by, we heard some rather aggressive rustling in the nearby hedge. Bob went to investigate with his flashlight and whatever it was certainly wasn’t going to be deterred. It started to freak me out, though if it was a wild boar it would have been louder. Then I saw the shadow of something coming towards me, I flashed my light on it and it turned around in a bit of scurrying waddle back to the shrubbery – we were being investigated by a hedgehog! I guess he had satisfied his curiosity and remained quite during the rest of the light show – we wound up counting up to 35 meteors in all before retiring to the security of the house.

Upon reflection, during July into August of last year during our RV trip, we were traveling from Michigan to Chicago then onto Canada, Niagara and then the Maritimes. By mid-August we were heading down the Eastern Seaboard to the Gulf including Louisiana – which this year was being hit by a horrific heat wave. While the heat was not intense last year, it was incredibly humid, and we were relieved when we found our way back into the beloved high desert of New Mexico with its arid dark skies and turquoise dreams. We had been so fortunate with the weather and glad to have seen what we have; it would have been almost impossible to have done it this year with the wildfires and heat waves that have been pounding North America.

We had also by this time also scheduled our Visa appointment in San Francisco.

I will take a pause here to talk about the devastating fires in Maui as not only have I had the opportunity to spend some fabulous vacations there (including infrared photography work), my father also wrote about the famous banyan tree in Lahaina in his letters to my grandmother while he was stationed in the islands during WWII. He also spoke of its immense nature during our conversations when we talked about the islands and my visits there, and other adventures with his Navy buddies such as finding a road through the sugar cane fields that led to a “secret beach.” He witnessed much of wild Hawaii before tourists began invading this place that truly defines paradise. Being immersed in all its purity off-set much of the trauma he experienced during the War in the Pacific. I pray for the people of Maui as it was a human and cultural loss that in a sense will never be completely restored; too much history has turned to ashes.

Infrared Image of the Famous Banyan Tree in Lahaina, Hawaii

Thankfully, we are now winding down much of the “integration drama” we have been navigating since our arrival; I have finally gotten enrolled into the French healthcare system, though my number is in my maiden name (which is a thing I continue to encounter here). We got inexpensive “top-up” insurance that gives us 100% coverage as we are covered up to 70% for the next five years and need to pay for the remaining 30%. In comparison to the US, it’s inexpensive here and we are shocked at how low the prescription costs are. So we are now covered from the medical side which is a welcome relief!

We have completed our Visa appointment in Bordeaux to wrap up the renewal and receive our Carte de Sejour (extending our long-stay Visa). We are now beginning to feel more “native.” My next challenge is to get my driver’s license which is no small feat even if you speak French. It will be a champagne-popping event when I pass my final exam.

We spent our anniversary at the same restaurant we dined at when we were here nearly two years ago on our reconnaissance trip; the Michelin star La Belle Etoile in the ever-stunning La Roque Gageac. When I think back to that time, winding down our careers and then traveling across US and Canada, it’s been quite an epic adventure. I am glad for the experience, but am equally content to be stationary in our lovely home, putting down the roots of gratitude in the fertile soil of Beausejour.

The ever-stunning La Rogue-Gageac

I have kept this image from outside the restaurant from our first trip on my iPad as wallpaper; as a visualization and reminder of a dream that has now come to fruition. Reflecting back on the journey, it really has been a heck of a thing.

All of this is fitting closure as our first summer winds down, the fields around us are now plowed and tidied up, sparing us the view of depressed sunflowers, and readying the soil for the coming year.

Post-decapitation of the sunflower fields

Stay tuned as the next few months bring the upgrades to our property, including air conditioning, solar and our rainwater tank.

The greenhouse is coming together and I will be attempting a “winter garden.”

Our fellow Americans, Sarah and Brian Addley, helping with the greenhouse.

We will also be off on an autumn trip to explore the fall colors of France and visit the legendary beaches of Normandy.

And now for a French moment

View from the dechetterie (aka: garbage and recycling center in our commune)

May 8 – July 4th Part Trois of our French integration con’t

Posted on July 3, 2023August 6, 2023 Posted in American Expat, Beauxvillage, Dordogne, Expatriation, France, France, French, Jardin, Lotetgaronne, Maison, maison de campagne, Photography, The French Life, Travel, Voyage en FranceTagged #cycling, #expat, #france, #lotetgaronne, #photography, #southwestfrance, #travel, #velo, #villereal4 Comments

We arrived home from our walkabout through Italy to a warehouse of boxes stored in the gite and busied ourselves unveiling an old life and melding it into the new one. While I had ideas of where to put things, it mostly fell into place organically as proportions and ideas are malleable and it was fun to play around with different concepts.

Then spring brought the thunderstorms consisting windy vortexes, lightning and occasional hail; one time a small river developed at the end of our property that soon dissipated into the neighbor’s farm. It was good to know where our property would potentially flood — thankfully that would be at the end of the property where it slopes into the neighboring field.

Pretty…but there is lightning in those clouds

Then suddenly it felt as though summer had arrived with the weather warming to near 80 degrees (25 c). Like Oregon, the mornings are cool, waking up to occasional mist covering the fields and valleys, barely muffling the birds who for now, wake us up gently with their morning ritual.

We have spent time with our new neighbors who live walking distance from us; a good walk though as there are acres between us and them. It has been invigorating getting to know these new friends and neighbors in this rather fantastical “hood.”

This included attending a Mad Hatter Party that included a lot of sugar (really good muffins and cake), and trying our hand at archery. Though I don’t have a day job I wouldn’t quit it to pursue a career as an archer.

We had the opportunity to visit a friend from Portland who was hiking the Camino de Santiago that was commencing in France then meandering into Spain. She was passing through Armignanc (home to the lovely, ancient brandy) and as she was within driving distance, we decided to take a trip down her way to catch up. She and her colleague had already done 500 of the 1000 miles of the trip! After a short but pleasant visit we bid farewell, leaving them with protein bars and electrolyte gels that they gratefully needed when they were caught short without an evening meal.

Bob’s sister and brother-in-law were set to arrive at the end of June, so we got busy again unpacking, sorting, painting, decorating – trying to make the gite habitable and figuring out where to put all our “stuff.”

When we needed a break, the terrace became an extension of our living room where we could flop in the Adirondack chairs (we brought with us!) with our tea and listen to the sounds of nature, and if the wind picked up, our favorite chimes blessed us with their soothing tune.

The mornings are particularly lovely.

Thankfully, Bob got his “CPAM” and is now enrolled in the French healthcare system. I, on the other hand, keep getting requests for information including a new copy of my passport since the one they have is unreadable. It’s not really clear why they made so many copies of it and how it got so mangled, but I bite my tongue and send what they need to complete my file. All of this is done manually and by snail mail. As they say on Mandalore “this is the way.”

During all this I acquired a lovely e-bike in anticipation of cycling the quiet backroads of our hood. I’m looking forward to getting back into cycling shape and taking some packed lunches to the chateaus in the area.

Then the pool arrived. This brought out our French neighbors from across the road and we had a chance to do some fractured-french-bonding as they speak no English. It’s quite something watching the pool land in our yard without taking out the power lines. Within a week they were to dig the hole and fit the pool. Well…this will be interesting to say the least.

A few days later, the “piscine” workers arrived with a digger, and unfortunately it rained for the three days they were excavating the area. I use the term excavate because there were decades of construction and roofing materials (tiles) from the gite that they had to dig through. Through the thunder, lightning and at some times torrential rain, the pool was installed. They did manage to level out where the garden was to go but the rains were followed by high, dry temperatures turning the mud into cement. We will compost heavily and when the rains return (and we will probably have some passing showers over the summer) we will be able to cultivate the garden for next year.

How it’s done in France

Otherwise we will be patient and figure out how to deal with the rather large display of tire tracks that have been sculpted into the lawn.

While all this hustling was happening, in a blink of an eye the sunflowers burst into bloom! We are surrounded on three sides and feel as though we are being spied on as their smiling personas keep a steady and unrelenting vigil over the fields.

Bob’s sister Kathryn, and her husband Bruce arrived just as the weather was warming up. In fact, the weather swung to the other end of the extreme bringing in a high pressure system of heat that eclipsed 90 degrees then fell back into the 70’s when they left! Thankfully they were not rained out and we had a lovely time cruising the countryside and spending an afternoon in Bergerac. Otherwise they decided to hang out with us and work on projects for which we are eternally thankful!!

We bid them a fond farewell, looking forward to another visit when they can do some actual lounging around the pool.

The next day a pool technician arrived to treat the water and get the filter working. The piscine was now ready for use! While the landscape is graveled in a rough and ready sort of way (we have to wait a year to do any credible landscaping as the surrounding earth needs to settle), we can still get some serious laps in.

Then, on a beautiful day with the temperatures in the 70’s we set out on a bike ride through the quiet back roads of Beausejour, cycling by fields of barley, beans and sunflowers, surrounded by the ubiquitous French stone farmhouses and crumbling structures smothered in vines that once held the bounty of a former era, making one feel like you were in a different time and place. I felt as though I was gliding along a slipstream; traveling through the ether of ancient lands and unerring traditions, disturbed only by the occasional modern mechanizations of a passing voiture (car). Not since I lived in Northeastern Washington State as a kid have I been surrounded by this level of beauty and solitude. I am now a thief of time, the flower-sentinels standing ready to defend those rarified moments as I recapture what was once lost to me.

And what did we do when we came back from the bike ride???

And if you’re too busy to get to the boulangerie in time, well never fear!

The French baguette – a national treasure

April 26 – May 7th Venice by way of the French Riviera

Posted on May 9, 2023May 9, 2023 Posted in Expatriation, France, Italy, Maison, Photography, The French Life, TravelTagged #photography, #travel, alps, castles, Expatriation, France, frenchriviera, gondola, Italy, milan, nice, venice, Verona1 Comment

Our container finally arrived – two weeks late and a day before our vacation to Venice by way of the French Riviera (Cote d’Azure).

The driver showed up an hour early! The rest of the team arrived soon after.

Though we had permission from the mayor (Marie) to block the road, we didn’t take into consideration the school bus so needed to do some maneuvering. Fortunately none of the farm tractors came our way so they must have gotten the message.

The French movers were a delight and they managed to correct my pronunciation as I directed them where the boxes needed to go. It was great practice! The gite is now a storage unit while the house has become a healthy repository of boxes we will be madly sorting through when we get back.

We realized we couldn’t get much of the furniture up the spiral staircase – but voila! The ladder had arrived and Bob, and with the assistance of our courageous peeps, were able to haul some of the pieces through the window of the pigeonnier.

All went well, and we were pretty depleted by the end of the day; after taking a break and offering whiskey and pizza to the team our last mission was to find the feet to the sofa – I really wanted to flop on my dear friend in front of the TV. Luckily, we found the “tool box” the movers had left – thank god!!! We both sighed a collective ahh as Bob leaned back in his recliner and I sunk into the sofa. OMG – is this for real?

I poured myself a healthy dose of Suntori Toki Whiskey that I found in Perigueux (my favorite, yes!!!), and zoned out – bliss.

Thankfully the movers got our dresser through the downstairs master bedroom window as it wouldn’t fit through the door – and then they assembled our bed😴. I love this bedroom set and you don’t find this style much here in France. It was amazing sleeping in our own bed and the mattress was a slice of heaven; the mattresses here are hard and I think it has caused me more aches and pains than I normally have (aging doesn’t help of course)

The next morning we managed to get a few things unboxed, and the house tidied and in some semblance of order before we left for vacation.

In a way I wish I was still there going through our stuff, yet with all our transition challenges and prepping for the arrival of our container I’m glad for the break; we will be away from our chores and distractions and we truly needed a respite from the transition fatigue. We are coming to the tail-end of chaos and heck, it isn’t like our stuff is going anywhere!!

Fortunately we had packed most of our travel luggage for vacation prior to the container arriving so we had to just throw a few items at the last minute and then toodled off to Perpignan near the Mediterranean coast. And…it was also my birthday!! My sister-in-law called from the UK and later my brother and sister-in-law in Seattle the following morning – such is our life overseas.

We didn’t do any real touring in Perpignan as we were too tired but we got a good look at Carcassonne and the “King’s Landing” cathedral ……we will be back as it’s only a few hours away and deserves closer inspection.

On our way to Nice we meandered along the Med and stopped in La Ciotat just north of Marseilles, and had a fabulous meal on the beach; I wound up having a hamburger and fries as I hadn’t had one forever and it was really good. It felt like “homey” food. The weather was in the 60’s which was perfect for just relaxing.

We got to our hotel in Nice with a view of the ocean.

After getting settled in we went for a stroll along the promenade to the huge shopping center that boasts most of the major designers and smattering of unique and familiar shops. I made a stop to the Body Shop and got myself some eau de cologne and bubble bath – it was time for some self care!

The landscape here reminds me a lot of California but the water is definitely bluer – hence the name Cote d’Azure. I can see why it would be a hotspot.

We were several miles from the center of Old Nice, so we caught an Uber (yes they operate here!) and headed to the downtown hotspots, the first stop was the flower market that did not disappoint.

There is also a smattering of unique shops with a conscious restraint from the kitsch – minimal casinos (there is a Hard Rock Cafe) and the tacky souvenir stores are kept to a minimum. The architecture is spectacular with beautiful fronts along the Promenade de Anglais, a mix of Parisian, art nouveau and the historic blue and white striped umbrellas on the beach.

Nice at its quintessential best – right before the hoards arrive

We hiked up to the gardens and cemetery for a view of the city and listened to the noon bells as they permeated the air.

The crowds were pretty thick and it was even high season, but we managed to squeeze in a nice lunch and finish promenading along the waterfront.

We loved Nice but like other popular destinations, it definitely gets crowded. The area around our hotel, which is more off the beaten track, was much quieter.

We headed out the next day to Verona, we had already dodged Cannes as the film festival was in full swing and was-to-be-avoided and headed towards Monaco – the land of the mega-rich. The landscape became dramatic, I mean up there with Zion and the Columbia Gorge. We passed by Menton and its “King’s Landing” cathedral overlooking the Med, stopped to pay our dues at the interminable toll stations and motored through to Italy and yes, another language. My mind thought it was going to explode as France was now my “new familiar.” It seemed odd to think of it that way!

The landscape was no less dramatic but this time there were green houses hanging from precipices and of course vineyards scaling impossible escarpments. We switched the radio to the Italian stations with their lively commentary. Then we passed a sign for the 45th parallel; we were miles away but on the same line as Oregon wine country.

We soon found ourselves in an agricultural area much like where we now live, with the Alps poking out from the North. There were rolling hills of vast fields with their churches enthroned atop the occasional villages and…then there were castles. I guess it wouldn’t be Europe without castles!

We passed by ruins – barns entwined by vegetation, in the middle of a perfectly manicured fields of barley. Besides the few RV’s we passed we suspected we were on a road not normally touristed, and like our adventure in the RV it was lovely to get the backroads perspective of this part of the country.

We arrived at the Crown Plaza in Verona, and set out the next day to navigate the old streets known for Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet. We were once again blessed with good parking karma as we found an obscure garage near the center😍

The arena, akin to the coliseum in Rome, with its ruinous facade just as equally captivating, was also a popular venue for famous operas and singers; sadly Peter Gabriel was to perform on the 20th of May! We vowed to come back to experience either a concert or opera.

The city, like so many others, is the usual retail mecca of big box stores. We pushed our way through the throngs of foreigners like us and found a quiet corner with a fabulous view of a nearby cathedral. The coffee in France and Italy is so good it will be difficult to go back to Starbucks – not that there is much in the offing in this area of Europe anyway☕️

We passed over the Ponte Pietra that was first constructed in 100 BCE and hiked up to Castel San Pietro. After taking in the sights and sounds, and also working up an appetite, we decided to grab lunch on the way back down at Re Teodorico with its incredible views of classical ancient terraces and structures that define Italy like no other country, such as the spires of cypresses that offset the homes and villas.

Poor resolution of a great view gave the image a painterly affect!

On our way back we wondered if was even worth trying to find “Juliette’s Balcony,” made famous by Shakespeare’s play. It’s not really something that existed except in someone’s imagination and was built specifically to tease up more tourism. As we approached the site, we were met with wall to wall bodies lined up to get their chance to view the “famous” balcony – we both decided to pass on the opportunity. I don’t typically need bragging rites on where I’ve visited anyway; I prefer to journal my experiences and share them with those who are interested.

The next day, on our way out of Verona we stopped by Soave (yes, you guessed it, the famous wine region) with its castle and vineyards; we picked up some wine for drinking in France since you mostly get only French wine in the shops 🧐. We stopped in for a simple lunch and then headed for our next stop – staying at a villa complete with a vineyard and not far from Venice.

Bob had been recovering from a sinus infection that I apparently had acquired and I was feeling pretty wicked by the time we reached the villa – Castello de Roncade; I was concerned I would have trouble visiting Venice which has always been on my bucket list. Luckily, after a good night’s sleep I was feeling better and we set out to navigate one of the most popular venues in Europe.

A rain front was coming through and we had planned a dinner at the upscale Danieli Terrazza Restaurant and had to figure out how to get dressed for a formal dinner after touring Venice in the rain🫣, but not to be daunted we carried an extra bag of clothes (wrinkle free!).

The weather certainly didn’t seem to deter of the tourists too much, and we pushed our way through the narrow alleys and crowded bridges, the chaos supplanted by a vast array of umbrellas.

When we finally arrived at the famous Piazza San Marco, the crowds had appeared to thin out so we took a time out for some tea that turned out to be 15 Euros a cup!!! I guess because you can sit and enjoy the view while listening to the live band play popular movie themes.

After I cleaned up in the hotel bathroom (a rather posh one as well) we had a lovely dinner; we were a bit disappointed that it was raining as we had hoped to sit on the terrace and watch the world go by – but no complaints, we enjoyed a fabulous meal that topped off our culinary experiences in Italy.

We took a “water bus” back to the Pizzale Roma where the parking structure is. Note that it is pretty simple to drive into Venice, park your car and walk into the city. Or you can catch one of the many water buses or taxis at the dock. The water bus takes longer but is much less expensive than taking the cool looking taxis that zoom along the canal – like those in James Bond movies.

The water bus proved to be a revelation as we were able to see the city at night which is quite something. You could spend days wandering around, experiencing the many hidden gems that Venice has to offer.

The next day proved to be clear and we set out to do some shopping and also had booked a tour of the basilica and the doge’s palace.

As we wanted to do a gondola ride (really, as touristy as it sounds it’s a great way to get a different perspective on Venice) and snagged one just off one of the canals. They were being scooped up fast so we were glad to get one and opted for a longer ride through the back “alleys” then onto the grand canal.

The idea of Venice is simply mesmerizing when you think of it being an ancient trading hub, and how the buildings were constructed around the concept of water. There is a conglomeration of cultures here, a melding of Roman, middle eastern and african cultures, like an exotic spice that can’t be categorized so easily. Venice’s cultural influences are as intricate as the filigreed facades and walkways that terminate at the water’s edge.

Our gondolier told us that up until the bridges were built, the only way Venetians could reach their homes were by boat. Floating by the houses we saw doors to what could only be a “water garage” – many had decayed at the bottom; there was probably no reason to replace them at this point.

After we departed from our excursion, we headed to our tour of the basilica. St. Mark’s Basilica is as incredible on the interior as it is on the exterior with gold mosaics reflecting a warming glow in a heavenly manner – as I suspect was intended. The terracing of different levels is something out of a dream and to imagine the engineers who masterminded all this centuries ago is simply mind boggling. This could have been just another European cathedral; after a while one looks much the same as the others. But no, this is in a class all by itself; a fitting reflection of what makes Venice so unique.

As we wound through the different levels we came to the bronze horses that were no less mystifying when you consider their scale and age.

We finished the tour at the doge’s palace which proved to be exceptionally ornate, but not as fascinating as the basilica.

Now that we were done with our tour, we decided to visit La Commedia where authentic Venetian masks are made…and of course picked one up. You have to be careful as there are plenty of shops who will gladly sell you cheap knockoffs made in China. The one we purchased is made out of paper mache with a lovely crown of feathers. I also managed to grab a Murano glass bead necklace and bracelet. These purchases weren’t overly expensive and came with certificates of authenticity and will be welcome reminders of the beauty and uniqueness of Venice.

We finished the night at a restaurant recommended by Stanley Tucci’s – Searching for Italy called Osteria AI 4 Feri Stoti tucked away by one of the canals; a lovely setting to round out the day. We had the ubiquitous Aperol Spritzer which is quite good; mixed with prosecco and sparkling water it makes for a lovely warm weather cocktail. It is quite popular here and seeing so many folks drinking it we thought we would give it a try. We of course wound up buying a bottle of Aperol.

The next morning we bid farewell to our stately villa and its lovely grounds, and headed out to Milan – the final stop on our tour.

You can view our tour of Venice here:

Visual Tour of Venice

On the way to Milan we decided to visit Padua for lunch. While not a city many would consider visiting, it turned out to have some pretty impressive cathedrals and canals. The weather was lovely and we stopped for lunch with a fantastic view and then headed for our hotel in Milan.

Padua and really cool looking cathedrals we were able to stare at during lunch

There is a certain level of madness that comes with Italian cities such as Milan; we drove through the maze of cars and too many scooters and motorcycles until we reached the cathedral or Metropolitan Cathedral-Basilica of the Nativity of Saint Mary. Yet another impressive structure but we decided not to enter as we hadn’t thought through booking ahead.

Stunning cathedral with really long name in Milan

We strolled through the famous Galleria Victtorio Emanuele II, the super elegant shopping center with stores out of my price range; Gucci, Chanel what have you, they are there as installations as well as being stores.

Being a fashion capital Milan cannot be outdone along with tour buses galore with many visiting from Korea or Japan, their passengers dressed vogue-style. After wading through the crowds, we shuffled off to a quiet bistro for lunch – out of the noise and constant stream of cigarettes and vaping which wasn’t doing my sinuses any favors. I was starting to feel pretty ragged and wound up spending the rest of the afternoon napping at the hotel.

We headed out the next day for the first stage of our trip back to France via Mont Blanc and its famous tunnel that connects Italy to France. The alps and their chalets were post-card perfect, complete with alpine meadows. The arid, clear air was a welcome relief and the landscape stimulating. You can view the video here:

Visual tour of Mont Blanc

Arrivederci Italy!! Until next time.

Mar 1 – April 25 2023 Beausejour – Part Two of our French Integration

Posted on April 24, 2023April 24, 2023 Posted in Dordogne, Expatriation, France, France, French, Maison, Photography, The French Life, TravelTagged Expat, France, Maison, VillerealLeave a comment

It’s early March and the weather is cold…as in biting cold, but it is clear with a layer of frost dusting the nearby fields. I take a moment to survey my surroundings, but my revelry is suddenly interrupted as I find myself running frantically out to the road to flag down the Darty (appliance store) delivery truck. They are here to deliver our new washer, dryer, freezer and small appliances; apparently our home is a bit difficult to find even when they have the address plugged into the GPS…seems I don’t have to worry too much about being stalked in this part of the world. I have now learned, through trial and error, to add the GPS coordinates in addition to the address in the delivery instructions, otherwise I get somewhat frantic calls in French from the drivers who apologize for their poor English (while I apologize… tres desole…sorry for my poor French). I also went as far as putting a sign on the front door to leave the packages in our absence (in French of course) – unlike the delivery methods used in America where the UPS or Amazon truck shows up and delivers your items on the front porch sans your presence, France seems to have a love for a vast variety of delivery services who require signatures upon arrival. This limits my options of being out and about as they don’t always commit to a time or day, and if they do, they don’t always abide by that commitment (we had been warned about the “French way of doing things” and they are living up to their reputation). So this “hack” of leaving a sign turned out to be the biz, and serves as permission to just leave any packages on the terrace (assuming they can find the place). The one company that has demonstrated reliability is Ikea, who definitely gives you a date and a window which works out well assuming they can even find our house. I also keep the GPS coordinates handy to text the drivers back once we politely conclude at the end of the conversation we can’t understand one another: Je text les coordonnées GPS etc.

Ahh…but we have finally arrived to Beauséjour – meaning “beautiful stay” and the road sign even confirms that we are indeed in a special part of the world. On the day we were scheduled to sign off on the house we did a “walk through” with our realtor and the previous owner. We learned some interesting stories about the history: For insurance purposes we had stated the structures were built in the early 1800’s as there weren’t any official records going back before the 1900’s. Urban legend has it that the fleur-de-lis and shield carved on both sides of the rather large fireplace was placed there during the stay of King Francois the 1st back in the early 1500’s – if this is true (since the symbols depict royalty) that would indicate that the house was built in the 15th century and around 400 hundred years old!

Though we are not even close to being a grand chateau (technically meaning castle) by any means, in rural France a pigeonnier is a sign of wealth along with the scalloping accents on the side of the house.

Subtle scalloping on the side of the house

We were also advised that the surrounding farmland used to belong to this particular maison; so while the house itself has similar proportions to our home in Portland, due to the pigeonnier and the accompanying symbology, it used to belong to wealthy landowners.

The ancient Colombage timbers that sustain the structures have since been reinforced without losing any of the original character and are treated for termites. We have also found our recent furniture purchases from the “Brocantes” (antique market furniture and so much fun to shop at those!) to be a bit wobbly as the floors aren’t exactly level in some places. Add to that the flaws that come from our “new purchases” and we find ourselves retrofitting to give our surfaces a bit of stability. The china cabinet is a great size as most we’ve seen have been quite large. The rustic workbenches are popular and this one was actually refinished and is a perfect addition to our entryway!

I am now also being indoctrinated to the idea of radiators and how this whole system works. The boiler is down the “cellar” along with a large community of spider webs. It is here we have also deposited the extra freezer and washer; we are on a septic system (known as a fosse here), and the washer was built to drain from the cellar to the septic. Yes we do have to walk around the side of the house but we are, after all, in the country in a several-hundred-year-old maison so you have to make some concessions. We will eventually be upgrading to solar and split air conditioning units in anticipation of the long warm summers – with climate change we are told the temperatures are on the rise and will also reduce our personal drag on the grid.

We have a little under an acre of land and Bob was chomping at the bit for a rider mower, also known as a “tandeuse.” Yes, we are back to the gardening frenzy we’re so fond of and we have plenty of work to do. Unfortunately, our gardening tools are in the shipping container that isn’t scheduled to arrive until mid April, so off we go to “Jardiland” (jardin is garden in French so do the math) to pick up a few odds and ends to tide us over. Bob managed to snag a nice mower that was soon delivered and he disappeared into the ether of gardening bliss, trolling the property from the lofty heights of his new toy while cursing the interminable dandelions.

I have been busy painting and kitting out our new utility room; there isn’t much in the way of storage in the main house so I took one of the bedrooms (there are four and just the two of us – much like our house in Portland) and am designing a laundry/pantry/general storage room. I soon discovered (as many have here), that paint is quite expensive for whatever reason and the mat colors aren’t up to much when it comes to coverage. So while we are eating on the cheap because the markets and general cost-of-living are just so insanely good here, we get dinged in other departments.

The dryer we bought does not require venting (it collects the condensation in a plastic basin that you discard down the drain) so you can plug it in anywhere – a clever euro design. We also ordered IKEA units to complete the storage area; you can always joke about IKEA but the storage units we ordered are of good quality. And an extra refrigerator because the one we have is pretty dang small.

Voila! A few more touch ups and additions and we will be in laundry and storage domestic bliss. I love getting new appliances as the ones we divested prior to leaving Portland were getting a bit worn anyway.

As spring is starting to roll in, we have experienced some pretty epic thunderstorms – I mean thunder, lightning, wrath-of-god type stuff – thankfully the shutters are really effective for keeping the rain at bay; I mean it gets really horizontal and blows a gale. But France, like so much of the rest of the world, really needs rain and we are glad for it when it arrives. The trees are starting to leaf out and we are seeing blossoms in the garden. And bees, we are surrounded by them and they are starting to inhabit the mason bee houses we bought. When we are not outside listening to the music of nature we are enjoying our new hi-speed fiber connection; it’s amazing that they have run these systems out into the rural communities. We are starting to feel more grounded and can crash on our (temporary) sofa and watch our favorite shows after a long day working on the property = spoiled.

We are on the 45th parallel so we see many of the same plants as you find in Portland. Our garden is large and the prior owners were British and planted a cornucopia of plants that are unfortunately being invaded by weeds; luckily we are retired, but even with that notion the tasks ahead of us seem a bit overwhelming.

When we take a break around noon, with our tea on the terrace, the birds and bees are performing their orchestral obligations and we can hear the bells toll from the nearby church of our local commune. It is times like these that we look out of our property into the vast farmlands and says yes – Beauséjour!!

In rural France we are oblivious to the rioting in Paris sparked by new legislation to the raise in pension age to 64…we are so far removed and frankly had enough conflict in Portland a few years back. Experiencing this level of peace and quiet is like developing new senses.

Of course, it’s not all bliss; as we are now officially grounded with a permanent address, we are now receiving mail at our new place. I have a mail forwarding service in the States and we had to have a few packets of important tax docs sent to us. The La Poste lady (very cheery as well) shows up one day with one of our packets and asks for 9 euros. We are a bit mystified, and we come to find out that “registered” mail, or what they perceive as “registered mail” is subject to additional fees. So we had to dig up 9 euros in change and if you don’t have exact change she will take what you have, then leave what is owed in your mailbox. Fortunately this hasn’t happened with any other mail🙄

Then…our French HSBC banking cards finally arrived (after five months!) and we had to drive to Bordeaux to gather them only to find out that we didn’t have the correct PIN codes. Long story, but they have PIN codes for online purchases, for your app and for your credit card and you can’t change them. Our sister-in-law in Seattle took time out of her busy day to convey the information we needed…while I was told all the information would be sent to Bordeaux, they sent the PIN codes to the address in Seattle. C’est la vie accompanied by a shrug – it’s France. This is the contrasting nature of the place we live in. So now we have two bank accounts which is not a bad thing considering the state of the banking business overall – due to the dual taxation and reporting laws, some Americans have difficulty getting a single account set up when they arrive here. And though we had our BNP Paribas cards we didn’t get our checkbook for another month and that wasn’t until we checked in and found out they hadn’t gotten around to “processing it yet.”

We are also still grappling with getting into the healthcare system; they must have misplaced Bob’s birth certificate (during the appointment we specifically handed it to them of which they made a copy) yet like our banking process, they are requesting it once again – via snail mail. Considering the delicate nature of a birth certificate we are opting to drive to the office in Perigueux to (once again) present both the original and translated version so they can process the file…sigh. They did confirm they received the document but then I received a letter stating they needed information for my file that I already gave them – as they say in Mandalorian “it is the way.” The hotline did confirm I do have a number and we are finishing up the processing on Bob’s number. Soon we will have a “Carte de Vitale,” and will be in the French healthcare system!

But….of course…there’s more! I have been scheduled for my Visa appointment to get my official Carte de Sejour (official long stay Visa card), but Bob hasn’t received his yet. Fortunately they have an English-language help line – even with that the French bureaucracy is not for the faint of heart. Bon courage – we will get through all of this in the next few months.

In France the 80/20 rule is definitely in full swing: Americans relocating here should not come with lofty expectations on when things are due to arrive or be processed – this is true 80% of the time. We are surprised when something arrives when scheduled such as Ikea, or when our Orange hi-speed internet was installed and has been working like a charm – the exception rather than the rule! No American entitlements here!

Quirks aside, what I do find impressive is being able to recycle everything here; just down the road we have a garbage and recycling center that we visit a few times a week to drop off standard stuff. For batteries, light bulbs, ink cartridges etc. we take those when we go shopping at one of the bigger cities (Bergerac or Villeneuve-sur-Lot) and they have them in the shopping centers. For bigger drop offs we go to the local “dechetterie” and deposit cardboard (for all the new stuff we have been acquiring), yard waste etc. The French love bureaucracy and it spills over into their love for the environment; it’s incredibly impressive.

I continue to do painting to freshen up areas of the house so when the furniture arrives we won’t have to move it for a while. The upstairs floors were gasping for some TLC and I stained and waxed one of the bedrooms so again – when the furniture eventually arrives it can have a stationary home. They came out beautiful!

Our container has finally arrived!!!! As always seems to be our luck it will be unloaded the day before we leave for our vacation so it will be “a dump and run.” This will be a story for another day as we are off to Venice by way of the (Cote d’Azure) French Riviera😍🍝🍷 for a much needed break from our “transition challenges.” Stay turned for updates on our European road trip!

Feb 2023 – Ode to Prats du Perigord, Bonjour Nouvelle Maison

Posted on March 6, 2023March 6, 2023 Posted in Expatriation, France, France, French, Maison, Photography, TravelTagged #photography, #travel, frenchcountry, livinginfrance, Maison1 Comment

Every morning at 7 a.m. the church bells ring down in the village of Prats du Perigord, the echoes are permeable as the sky is clear and frost grips the land, remaining polar until the sun rises to loosen the ribbons of sleep. Then formations emerge through the orange and blue, awaking the kaleidoscope of day.

It’s February but It feels more like spring, more like what March would feel like in my former city of Portland, Oregon. There is no rain in sight for the coming days. The garden (jardin) centers are coming alive and the locals are even threatening to cut the grass. It is still technically winter but no one has apparently informed the inhabitants of Southwest France; except for those who still had their Christmas decorations up until the end of January.

Here we remain unconcerned about the protests in Paris, the insistence that raising the retirement age to 64 is certainly the end of civilization as we know it, and many of the French insist they will be too old to enjoy their golden years. France has the lowest retirement age in all of Europe, and they enjoy some of the best systems such as their healthcare, but it certainly doesn’t come for free. Paris has been in a gridlock for weeks now as the unions take to the streets and halt services such as le metro (Mon dieu!!).

One of the highlights of our continuing integration is that we finally figured out how to use the car wash – this was accomplished by spying on the local population: Unlike the system in the US where you pay and then drive through, here, you drive up to the wash itself, make sure you are secure against “bump ” that triggers the green light, exit your car and the pay at the kiosk. We were wondering why people were lounging around the waiting area while their car was being washed. The system is rather clever as the mechanism runs back and forth over your car while it remains stationary. No more fun of driving through! We now have a clean car💖

We decided it was time for another side trip to visit the local sites – this time we ventured to the medevial city of Belvès, spending the afternoon wandering around and then settling in for a cup of coffee. Much is still closed up and we are wait in great anticipation when the cafe and shop owners start to open up and their wares spill out into the streets.

Meandering the ancient streets of Belvès

As we forge new relationships, we found ourselves spending a post-Valentines Day brunch at our friend’s lovely country house (once again), indulging in her local dishes, learning the French way of dining and surveying the garden with ideas for the impending spring.

We continue our daily french language studies complemented by a weekly visit to Monpazier (which we discovered was part of the set of Ridley Scott’s “The Last Duel” and is now a set for a french film) for a more interactive lesson. We have cultivated some new acquaintances and are becoming a local at a cafe that sports a fair amount of American retro art deco-like posters that makes me feel right at home.

We hadn’t ventured much into the fast food arena here and then much to my horror: Krispy Kreme and Popeye’s announced they will be opening up their fast food joints here in France. I was never a fan of Kristy Kreme, and well the patisseries are to die for here😍 so do the math! Yet, McDonald’s is seriously popular in France, especially with the youth. Upon further research they source all their food locally, it’s organic and they are highly regulated by the EU meaning sans the preservatives, hormones etc….so a bit better than the overprocessed American version. But still! But we got curious and had to check it out and the food tastes much less processed than in the states; even the salads are something you would find in a nice bistro. While they do drive-through, the french are fond of their two hour lunch and you will find them lounging at the local McDonalds while they are being served their food in recyclable containers – even the french fries come in a signature McDonald’s plastic molded cup!

Another hurdle we finally overcame was the opening of our French bank account at BNP Paribas. It was a welcome relief as all the French government systems require this and setting up our house for the electrical, heating etc. requires an account as well. While this came as a welcome relief we still hadn’t seen our bank cards for a couple of weeks. I called our agent’s office and got her assistant who spoke a little english but managed to navigate me through the phone app to get a message to her. Alas, this is France and our agent profusely apologized saying the drugs from her dental appointment caused her to somehow lose her memory. We were running low on Euros and don’t like using our American credit cards as we get dinged with the current conversion depending on the strength of the dollar. We can however do direct transfers from our bank to certain retailers, more so at point-of-sale rather than online so we have been able to maneuver around our current handicap – at least for now.

As we were in Bergerac it was the perfect day to meander the historic town center, accompanied by Cyrano himself. We will be spending more time here with friends, shopping, enjoying cafe chats and long walks along the river.

Our cards finally arrived in a few days and I was able to go on a bit of a shopping spree as we had furniture we needed delivered to the new digs.

March 1st marked the closing of our house followed by the appointment with the local office to enroll in the French Healthcare system. Once we get their version of a social security number (not to be confused with the American version), which is used specifically for healthcare, we will be issued our Carte Vitale and be able to finally set up an appointment with a general practitioner. This will get us into the network of specialists we are eager to connect with.

We will miss the hikes through the woods and green spaces of Prats du Perigord, surrounded by working farms, the horses, donkey, dogs and goose (just one!). Our initial immersion into France has been as equally lovely as it has been frustrating; the difference is the latter is temporary while the former will be an enduring experience for the rest of our lives.

The weather turned cold again, with heavy frost and even a dusting of snow but nothing compared to what the west coast of the United States was enduring. Reflecting on our situation this time last year, I realized we could have been stuck in Portland or in Santa Rosa as we wouldn’t have been able to get through to the Alabama Hills in California with our RV. Back in the 70’s I remember one storm that blasted through Southern California and for the first time you could see the mountains – we had a small respite from the horrific Los Angeles smog of that era.

The day of our signing finally arrived and we powered through it at the Notaire in Villereal with no incident and were handed our keys. Voila! We owned a house in France!

Yet we couldn’t go play at the house as we had an hour drive for our healthcare appointment, and we had to finish packing up and cleaning up the gite. That took up Thursday and Friday and then we finally arrived for good on Saturday morning; it was early and crispy cold, but here, the landscape sweeps you along its sensual curves to deposit you at its doorstep, ignoring your protests. The sun was also very accomodating; it decided there would be no contest as it emerged to celebrate this glorious day.

After years of dreaming, copious amounts of planning, being in a constant state of (and many times exhausting) transition for a year….we had finally arrived. More to come on our homeowner experience.

After managing some delivery faux pas (like a bed), we settled in for our first night and even managed to get the Wi-Fi going, averting a potential disaster🙄

I awoke early on Sunday, and as I walked down the hallway I could hear the crowing of a rooster, the national symbol of France.

FocalDreams

Category: Maison