Amazing Annecy - Part One

What is it about France that attracts? Why do so many Australians feel such a connection to France, and why do so many push convention aside for a chance to experience first-hand what French living is all about?

In my occasional series on Australians in France, we have already met Jodie, Tahnee and Meredith, all with very different, but cherished, French stories. They go some way to answering these questions.

Today, I'd like you to meet Fiona and her family in the first slice of a two-part interview.

Fiona, thanks so much for agreeing to this interview. You are originally from Melbourne but have been living for several years now in Annecy in the French Alps. Can you tell us a bit about your family and what it was that prompted you all to head to France?  

For us, moving to France is a good example of what can happen when you set an intention to do something. My husband, Paul, and I got together when we were quite young and after our university years, a lot of our friends went to live in London or took off on a year backpacking around Europe. By then, we were already immersed in building a business and couldn’t possibly leave for more than a few weeks. But at that time, before we were married or had children, we decided that when we had children of primary school age, we would go and live in either France or Italy for a year.

Having planted that seed of an idea, we kept it in mind and with our youngest child about to start school, we did a 2-week recce trip to Annecy and fell in love with the place. Paul was running a business with his brother but was primarily working online with a team of developers from around the globe, so he knew his work would be portable. On the other hand, I was running a different business (WordOfMouth.com.au) and, along with my co-founder, we were managing an office full of people. At that stage, my partner and I had been working on the business for 9 years and after some deep thinking and conversations, we decided to sell. A few months later, the business was acquired, and we started putting the wheels in motion to move to the other side of the globe.

To undertake a trip such as yours there must have been a fair amount of preparation? What were some of the things on your pre-departure to-do list and do you have any hints for families who might be thinking of doing the same thing?

There was a lot of preparation in terms of packing up our house, putting our affairs in order, selling our cars and various other things, and getting our house ready to rent, but for us, the hardest part was getting our visas. Neither of us had European nationality and while we knew we could easily get a one-year visa, we wanted the option to stay for longer. Eventually, after reading through all the options, we decided to apply for the “Competences et Talents” visa, a 3-year, renewable visa. We were unsure as the lawyers we were talking with strongly advised against this, saying that they’d never seen this type approved. But we seemed to tick the criteria, so we decided to apply ourselves. We were very nervous about whether this would be successful so put a lot of effort into our application. Then, Paul had to fly to Sydney to present our case - but fortunately, it worked, and we were granted the visa. It shows that the professional advice you receive is not always to be relied on!

How did you end up choosing Annecy and how long did you set off for?

Our very initial thought was to spend one year in France, but as we realised the logistics of packing everything up, we questioned why we should restrict ourselves to just one year. So we left with the intention of spending “a few years” in France. (It’s now been 3 and we’re still loving it here!)

Similarly, we initially thought to find a really small town in rural France. But then, we were driving through a very rural area of Victoria on the way back from a camping trip and we realised that we’d never live in such a tiny town in Australia, so why should we do that in France?

We still didn’t know where to live though so we started asking our friends for advice. We had a few criteria we were hoping to meet… somewhere near ski fields, near a large airport and a town that was not too big, and not too small. We have a lot of friends that are keen cyclists and several of those suggested Annecy. This area meets all those criteria and more! In fact, one of my favourite things is living on the lake.

You have two children. How easily have they made the transition into French living? Can you tell us a bit about their experiences of school, making friends, adjusting to new routines, food etc? 

We were worried about how our children would go, but like most people seem to say, this turned out to be nothing to worry about at all. Our daughter, Bianca was 7 years old and our son, Benjamin was 5 (almost 6). We’d tried to expose them to a bit of French language, but it was very difficult to do this from Australia and they (understandably) were not particularly interested. 

After a few months of school here, they were speaking French comfortably. Even the transition period was not too bad - there were never any tears or protests about going to school as I’d expected. We did notice that they were extremely tired though and it was a good thing there was no school on Wednesdays as after two days, they needed some recovery time. 

As I recall, Benjamin had decided that he “wasn’t going to learn French” so after a month or so of school, I asked him how he was going with the French. He replied saying that he still wasn’t learning French, but it was ok because his teacher was now speaking a lot more English. This puzzled us for a moment, but then we realised that his teacher was definitely not speaking English, but he was understanding her speaking French - so in his mind it was English!!

Before leaving, we also wondered whether we would have any friends or whether we’d just have to get used to our own company all the time! However, as it turned out, there are a lot of expats living in this region and very quickly, we were surrounded by great groups of interesting people. Of course, our intention was also to mix with French people, and we’ve now got some great friends through the school, and also through the first Airbnb that we rented.

In Part Two, Fiona shares a personal story. A must-read for those of you who have been thinking, dreaming, talking about your next step.
Until then. Thank-you Fiona.

And, of course, another French story for you ...ours... 'But you are in France, Madame'. Here for your Kindle or as a print copy.

Loud and clear but not always obvious

"It is really well hidden."

(Quizzical smile)

"Our hide-and-seek puzzle for the next guests."

"Ah, got you." (Broad smile from hotel receptionist)

We were in Hobart for a business and (mostly) pleasure trip and had just checked in to our beautiful, barn-like art hotel with port views when I heard a gentle beeping. I tracked it down to somewhere near the safe in the cupboard next to the bar fridge... just before it stopped.

Later that evening - same, same - and then silence.

The next morning, at our third episode of short-lived but persistent beeping, I rang down to reception and a handyman came up to investigate. It was surmised that the safe's battery was going flat and was replaced expediently.

Thus it was that when the, by now familiar, sound started up again the second morning, I acted quickly. My husband was even quicker and with his never-go-anywhere-without-it headlamp in place scrutinised the interior of the safe. Nothing. Around the safe, under the safe, on top of the safe. Nothing. And still it beeped. Not one to give up, my husband lay on the floor, contorted himself into a skinny L-shape and peered into the small gap between the wall and the safe. Nothing...until...

"Bingo". (Delayed, but triumphant)

Any guesses as to what he found and where?

Perhaps it was a message. I feel like I am constantly looking for my next challenge/direction/focus. Is it already beeping at me loudly and clearly but I just can't see it for looking?

And, no, we didn't really leave the next guests a similar challenge - but we did think about it.

Hobart, by the way, is well worth a visit, as is Chez Moi French Style in Liverpool St, my newest stockist  of 'But you are in France, Madame'. Also available for your Kindle here

How did that happen!

Burgundian buddies

Last week, in a café alongside an ex-Prime Minister, I met Ali in Sydney. Some would say that was not a surprising feat, given that we currently have a rather large range of living Australian PMs to choose from. But, the main event for me was not a question of patriotism, more incredulity at the how and why that had brought Ali and I together. France, possibly?

Uh huh, but more specifically, the cover of my book.

You see, Ali, originally from the UK, now living in New Zealand, also owns a house in France...in Burgundy... in Noyers-sur-Serein... in the street... on my book's cover.

Somehow, this picture of her street came to her attention, and across time-zones and countries we connected, first by good old-fashioned social media and secondly, in person. I still can't quite believe that Ali's house is on my book.

A couple of day's ago, another beep (look left) brought to my attention an Instagram message. 'But you are in France, Madame' had done a fine job of saving someone from a Sunday washing day.

I ask myself frequently why these wonderful interactions keep on happening. I guess because people are basically good; happy to share the joys, dream the possibilities and champion the successes of others. Wow, that is worth highlighting and celebrating.

**For Kindle or print copies of our French story, 'But you are in France, Madame', click here ***










 

We are here to help you

And they were!

Twice, in fact, and from a distance.

In light of our difficulties with everything administrative whilst living in France, I felt almost foolish sending a document from Australia to France, asking for it to be dealt with and sent back to me. I agree that this sounds possible, even perplexingly easy but I was supposed to include a stamped (French of course) self-addressed envelope. How, when living abroad does one do that? The kind lady at the Australia Post office did not know and I was sure that FedEx representatives would not be inclined to hang around until such time as my document appeared on the top of an in-tray in an office (which I was not even sure was the right one) and was handed back to them. So, what to do?

Send it off anyway, and take the path of lowest expectation. This was our modus operandi in France, too. After all, if you expect nothing then you can't be disappointed and you get a wonderful opportunity to celebrate if something actually goes right.

I marked my envelope send-off date in my diary and put a note to myself for two weeks thereafter to remind myself to think again of the problem, hoping that in the meantime, another solution might have waltzed into view. And, it did. In the form of a rain-soaked, soggy envelope bearing a recognisable (mine) scrawl. I was all happiness and hope. Delicately, in light of the sogginess, I tore it open.

Nous avons le regret de vous informer qu'il n' a pas été possible de ...pour les raisons suivantes

Right. Not really there to help after all.

But, wait. What was the reason that I was not able to receive help? According to my personalised letter, sent in my un-stamped envelope, it wasn't needed.

I still can't believe (but am thankful) that my un-paid-for envelope was kindly sent back. The problem is I now have to take this French letter to the Italian authorities who asked me for it in the first place and tell them that the French government told me that it was not. Not sure that that is going to work in any language, with or without postage.

Wish me luck.

**For Kindle or print copies of our French story, 'But you are in France, Madame', click here ***The link will take you to the .com store, with a clickable link on the page to the store of your country.*

Aix marks the spot - Part Three

For those of you who have enjoyed Part One and Part Two of Meredith's French adventure, here is the final chapter (of the blog story, but not altogether...as you will read).

Can you share with us a couple of the most memorable/funny experiences of your time in France? What were the most difficult aspects?

Because I had an English passport, I was allowed to live and work in the EEC, however, my husband needed to apply for a ‘carte de séjour’, the right to reside.  We had a wonderful time with the French bureaucracy in Aix and when they told me Colin had to go to Marseille, in person, and get it there, Colin simply didn’t believe me.

We decided to book in to a hotel in Marseille, despite the fact that Marseille was only 25 minutes away.  We had heard horror stories about having to line up early in the morning, so the afternoon before we walked down to the Préfecture to make sure we knew where he had to go.  We finally found the destination in some back street, deep in the city of Marseille. I am sure you are all aware of the French reputation for ‘grèves’ (strikes), and much to our dismay, Marseille was in the grip of a massive garbage strike. The city was literally stinking.


On arrival, we noticed some people were already queuing.  We approached one African-looking person and asked if we were in the right place.  He was very helpful, confirming that we were, in fact, at the correct destination. He was already in the line for the following day and said that he would be happy to mind Colin’s spot! How lucky were we?

So, off Colin went at 6.30am in the freezing cold, through the stinking garbage to arrive with coffee and
croissants for the kind man who had spent the night on the street, holding his spot in the line from the day before.

We were the lucky ones. Only one hour later Colin was the proud owner of a five year ‘carte de séjour’ (right to live). I doubt anybody else in the queue would have had the same success. It was worth its weight in gold for our kids to see all the other people from different countries, queued a mile long, desperate to get permission to live in France. I only hope our kids appreciated how lucky they truly were.

This next little ‘histoire’ is for all the coffee addicts:
The French take their culture and their cuisine very seriously, but given that Aix is a very international city, it is natural that some coffee shops would also sell take-away coffee.  But there are limits and when an English woman got on a local bus with her takeaway coffee, the bus driver demanded:

“Madame, descendez de mon bus!”.  (Madame, GET OFF MY BUS!)
Nothing like insulting the bus driver for bringing a takeaway coffee on his bus.
Be Warned!  Take some time out and don’t rush your coffee!

Part of going to live in another country is being open to trying new things.  I had always wanted to dance salsa, so I signed up for salsa classes and my husband decided to come too.  Towards the end of the year our teacher started teaching us a routine that she wanted us to perform at the end of year ‘spectac’ (show). Of course, there was no way my husband was going to dance a salsa routine on stage, so I signed up ‘toute seul’ (alone).  In the end, the teacher managed to talk him into it. The curtain came up, and front of stage we did our 3-minute sexy salsa routine with 5 other couples in front of 300 people, including the kids.


You couldn’t wipe the smile from his face.  He turned to me and said:

“If you’d told me I was going to dance the salsa on stage in France in front of 300 people, I would never have believed you!”

Therefore, my advice would be, never say never.  Just embrace every opportunity and see where it leads you.


Did I find anything difficult?

Some of you might find this story amusing, but I can assure you my husband took a while to appreciate the irony.

Finding a suitable place to live is no easy task. Colin had sent me over on a reconnaissance trip three months before we were to leave, and he gave me an exact brief.

“I would like a four-bedroom house and pool on an acre of land with spare rooms for visitors.  I would like an open fire to lounge around, a large kitchen so I can shop at the local markets and cook delicious meals each night and all within walking distance to the local bar where I can have my coffee in the morning, my pastis in the afternoon and read Le Journal."

It sounded like a perfectly reasonable brief to me.

However, it became apparent almost immediately I touched down in Aix-en-Provence that I was going to have a hard time fulfilling his dreams.  Aix-en-Provence was not a small French village; it was an energetic university town with a population of over 160,000 people.

So, with some reservation, I set about finding the house of Colin’s dreams.  I imagine it was like looking for the perfect man on RSVP, systematically crossing off every listing you look at. The fact was that nothing remotely resembled what Colin had in mind. Not only were these sorts of houses in the middle of nowhere, they had no charm, they were ridiculously expensive and the owners expected you to vacate during July and August so they could rent them out for more money.

However, on my second-to-last day in Aix, I was introduced, by chance, to a French lady who suggested I contact an agent she knew.

“I don’t have anything suitable, but I do have a very charming cottage in the middle of a vineyard. It’s called La Petite Maison. It is very small", she told me, somewhat apologetically.

The next day I found myself on a dirt driveway with lush vineyards on either side leading up to a magnificent house, just like the one my husband, I am sure, had dreamt of.  For the first time during my two week visit I really felt like I was in the south of France. It was picture postcard and I was so mesmerised by my surroundings that I completely missed the fact that the woman standing at my side was pointing...to a tiny cottage on my left.


The real estate agent opened the door to reveal a very cosy, 62-metre-squared, fully furnished cottage with sliding doors to a huge terrace, only metres from a vineyard, that seemed to go forever.  I fell in love immediately.  And when one falls in love, it is only natural to completely gloss over the minor imperfections associated with one’s love.

“It is very small isn’t it?  But charming, non?” remarked the agent.

I looked around and noted there were two bedrooms separated by a combined lounge living room with an open fire.  I recalled Colin really wanted an open fire and conveniently forgot he had also specified four bedrooms and a pool.  There was a tiny kitchen with a bar fridge and it came with unlimited wood for the fire. It was already connected to wi-fi and we didn’t even have to move out for two months in summer.  After all, Colin had requested land, and voilà, I’d found a house on a vineyard with a view to die for.  Surely, he would be thrilled.

La Petite Maison had our name on it.

“We’ll take it”, I cried.

And promptly signed a one-year lease before I flew out the next day.



Postscript:  Colin did end up with his pool, but I’m afraid it was one of those blow up backyard versions…

Back now in Australia, what do you miss the most? How do the children view their French adventure? Have you visited France since your return to Australia? Do you have any long-term French plans?

Probably the thing one misses most is being so close to everything.  We travelled at every opportunity, visiting Egypt, England, Ireland, Belgium, Italy, Spain and many other places. You just can’t do that from Australia.

The children settled straight back in.  Kids are generally very adaptable and if the parents are relaxed, the kids are too. They loved their time in France but were very happy to come back to Australia. We return to Aix regularly and continue the connection. For me, it feels like a second home.

In fact, I love the area so much I have joined forces with a company called On The Tee Travel to create and host some exciting ‘Golf Getaways’ to Provence', The Riviera and even Mallorca, Spain.  I hope to extend to Bordeaux and other parts of France going forward.

Combining my love of France with my obsession for Golf is my ultimate dream job.

When we were living there a friend gave me a lovely little olive tree in a pot and, before leaving, I asked our landlord if I could plant it in his oliveraie (olive grove) of 200 trees out the back. He happily agreed.

It is now huge and I visit it every time I go back.  I love that I own my own olive tree in the South of France! How cool is that?

Overall, would you recommend the experience to other families?

I couldn’t recommend it more highly. Giving your children an experience of living abroad, especially in a place like France, is such a gift.  I am sure my boys will fully appreciate it when they are older.

I truly believe that taking people out of their comfort zones empowers them with greater life skills. I have no doubt that it was the best thing we ever did.

Thanks so much, Meredith. Your energy and positive attitude shine through and no doubt contributed in no small measure to the success of your family's adventure. Best of luck with On The Tee. I'm afraid our journeys by necessity part at that point as my past experience with golf was not note-worthy⏤ except perhaps to the members who, from the clubhouse, witnessed my step-up-and-thwack-like-a-hockey-ball drive, which propelled the divot spectacularly further than the ball.

***A reminder to US readers that the latest Kindle deal for 'But you are in France, Madame' finishes today.***