Missed opportunity

Closed due to a lack of water

It has been a hard year in Australia for farmers, and western Queensland has been particularly touched. To me, a city girl, one rainfall this year, and that back in March, seems bewildering, yet this was the reality for some. Water restrictions in past years have reduced the length of my showers and elongated our evening routine as my husband and I set about transferring our children's bathwater, one bucket at a time, onto our garden. In those years, the lawn and the car both got browner and talk turned to re-designing gardens with drought-resistant plants. These inconveniences are almost embarrassing to divulge when compared to the struggle of trying to keep stock alive and crops growing without water.

It seems, though, that as well as a good bit of luck, the thing that gets most farmers through these difficult times is a positive attitude and a knowledge that, even separated by hundreds of kilometres as they often are, they are part of a strong community.

I was delighted, therefore, to learn of a project that recounted- no- more than that, celebrated the lives of some of these farmers. And, I was even more delighted to learn that the book, as that was what the project became, highlighted the strength, determination and courage of women farmers.

Unfortunately, this was short-lived when I saw the title of the publication. Cattlemen, it could be argued, refers to both women and men, like actor covers actors and actresses of yore. But, 'Cattlemen in Pearls' - that, to me is just wrong. It reduces, again, the exploits of women to something superficial. I am an admirer of Australia's former Deputy Leader of the Liberal Party and ex-Minister for Foreign Affairs, Julie Bishop. In a recent speech, she said what this title makes me feel "if you're trying to be a man, it's a waste of a woman". The book, a brilliant opportunity to inspire and educate, leads off, instead, by representing competent Australian women as dressed-up men.

Low levels in the Annecy Lake

The Annecy Lake suffered in the very hot last summer and is at its lowest level for 70 years. The edge of the lake near Annecy looks like a sandy beach, with boats and pedalos for hire lying on their sides, families strolling in spots where normally they would be swimming and a drop in the water level of between 60 and 70 cm in places.

How to remain optimistic when things don't seem to be normal is a challenge. Sometimes, I agree, getting dressed up and going out is a good antidote to worrying. But, I can assure you, if I owned any, that it would not be by donning my pearls that I would be expressing my womanhood.

In good times at the Annecy Lake

Our French story, "But you are in France, Madame' available here

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.*