Newsletters from France

The Kindness Of Strangers

2011-06-23T12:20:00.000+02:00

Every now and then you get a day that you'll never forget. I call those type of days “eternal-memory-days”. The feelings associated with the day, the pictures of the places you visit, snippets of mind movies you take, and the spirit of the day will always stay with you, regardless of how old you become one day. It's not a day that will ever fade away. On the contrary, the more you think about it, the more magic your imagination adds to it. Yesterday was such a day.

We have visitors from South Africa here at our place at the moment. When they asked me what they should see in the area, I told them that a visit to the Vaucluse is a must. You can't come to this area and not see villages like Gordes, Murs, Lacoste, Bonnieux, Menerbes and many others. Something else you have to see is the natural beauty in this part of Provence.

After breakfast we left home and drove towards Eyguières. A few kilometers before Eyguières we turned off the D569 and followed the scenic route, the D25. We passed through the hills behind Aureille, and returned to Orgon via Eygalières. From Orgon we drove through Cavaillon in the direction of Coustellet. At the entrance of Coustellet we stopped at a wine cellar, called the Cave du Luberon (http://www.caveduluberon.com/). After tasting and buying some wine we continued our drive and arrived in Gordes a short while later. We walked around the village, taking pictures with the other tourists, realizing that the tourist season has started.

From Gordes the road led us to Murs. A few kilometers outside Murs we saw a cherry orchard. My friends wanted to stop to take some photos. When they saw the huge cherries they wanted to know where they could buy some. I didn't see anybody to ask and told them there shouldn't be a problem if they picked a few to taste. Just then, of course, the farmer arrived. I immediately asked him if he could sell us some cherries. He asked how much we wanted to buy and I told him that we only needed a few kilogram. He then told us to help ourselves. We were overjoyed and started eating some while we picked.

My one friend was very interested in the drip irrigation system the farmer used to water the cherry trees as well as his method of grafting new shoots onto old trees to create better cherries. When the farmer realized how interested we were in what he did, he asked us to follow him to the shed where they wash and pack the cherries.

We arrived at their place, not far from Lioux and was introduced to his wife and some of the other workers. They showed us how the cherries were packed and gave us another box of cherries. My friends invited them to go and visit them in South Africa and I told them that I will come back soon, with my family, for a visit.

From their place we drove to the Cedar forest not far from Bonnieux. While we had a picnic under the trees we couldn't stop talking about the kindness and hospitality of Evelyne and Jean-Paul Bourgues. We all agreed that they are the type of people who give the human race a good reputation and drank to their health.

To find out more about the cherry producers in that area you can visit their website: http://www.cerise-venasque.com/index.html

"Looking For Love In A Bar Called Eternity" is now available

2011-06-02T11:36:00.000+02:00

I am very proud to announce that my novel, "Looking For Love In A bar Called Eternity" is now available on Smashwords and Amazon.

Click on these links to read a sample of the book:

1. Smashwords;
2. Amazon.com;
3. Amazon.co.uk; and
4. The German Amazon site

"Easy Travels in South Africa" now available!

2011-06-02T11:35:00.000+02:00

I just had to let all of you know that I have "published" a South African Guidebook called: "Easy Travels in South Africa" on Smashwords. It's an e-book and I compiled it for those travelers out there who want to plan their own trip to South Africa. Go and check it out at: http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/6458

Newsletter 5: 'Summer Is Gone'

2007-10-09T02:59:00.001+02:00

PART 1: The Southern Alps

In my previous newsletter we were on our way to go and look for the Summer. Now, like Beth Hart sings in her song: 'Summer is gone.' Yes, Summer arrived, stayed for a while and now she's in the process of leaving.

Did we really find Summer this year in France? Yes, sometimes we did. What does that mean, wasn't it Summer the whole time? Of course it was, but as a South African, the French Summer confused me. I learnt that, in Europe, one's destination determines the character and the intensity of Summer.

Our first destination was the Southern Alps. We camped in a small village called La Chapelle. On the day we arrived it was very cloudy. While we pitched the tent, light rain started falling. During the first night I thought we probably took the wrong turn somewhere and must have driven to the winter in the southern hemisphere. It was around 5 degrees celsius that night. When I saw the snow on the peaks of the mountains the next morning I understood why it was so cold during the night.

In the Alps we spent our time hiking, playing in the park, making food, exploring the area around the village and trying not to get too cold from the moment the sun disappeared behind the mountains at night.

We welcomed every new day, especially when it was sunny. Every morning we bought fresh bread at the shop across the road from the campsite. The highlight of the breakfasts was an avocado (yes, only one), from close to Tzaneen in South Africa, mashed and smeared on a fresh baguette. Here avocados are really expensive and we only buy it on special occasions. Luca and Lauren were very excited to eat an avocado again.

It started raining shortly after we went to bed the sunday night before we left. It didn't stop until the next morning. During the time we packed our tent and other camping gear away, the drops continued falling. We didn't mind going back home.

I'm including a few pictures here to give you an idea of what that part of the Alps look like.

Newsletter 4: "Looking For The Summer"

2007-06-26T13:43:00.000+02:00

I’m borrowing the title for this newsletter from an old Chris Rea song from his 'Auberge' album. I love that song’s name. Read it carefully. It’s not just “Looking for Summer”. The small word ‘the’ gives the phrase a completely different meaning. The singer isn’t looking for Summer in general. He makes it much more specific and gives Summer an identity and a unique personality. Summer is no longer just something, it is transformed into someone - a being truly alive.

It makes one wonder where you would start searching if you were given the task of finding Summer. Or, would you wait for Summer to find you? Like all the other seasons, Summer also has an essence, something spiritual, that gives it life as a unique season.

Last year, we arrived in France during Summer. A particularly hot Summer, especially since we flew straight from the cold of Winter into the hothouse called southern Europe. We stayed at the coast for a while, where we swam often and sweated even more. Afterwards we started the big search for a vehicle and a house. Thus, before we had the chance to notice it, Summer had faded into the colours of Autumn. Somehow, caught up in all our preoccupations with the practical side of life, we had ignored Summer.

Now, Summer has returned, giving us another chance of finding her. She arrived recently, dressed in long days of light, perfumed by the scent of Lavender and other flowers, singing with the voices of cicadas and birds. Like the swallows who have returned safely from far South, Summer flies happily around us, rejoicing in the warmth and freedom. She’s filled with the laughter of children swimming, the welcome presence of ice-cream and cold drinks and the appetizing smell of people having a braai (that’s the Afrikaans word for barbecue for those of you unfamiliar with it). This year, we are determined to find Summer, won’t allow our ignorance to miss her beauty.

Everybody looks for Summer in a different way. In France, many people believe she can only be found at the coast, by playing on the beach, building sand castles, soaking the tiredness of the year away in the lukewarm water of the Mediterranean sea, and, with the help of the ever present sun, exchanging one’s bleached Winter skin for a tan. However, if your aim is to escape from the hordes of holidaymakers, there are many other options.

Our quest to find Summer will again start in La Ciotat, for a visit with my parents-in-law, as well as the sun, sea and sand. We know our time there will be filled with long meals in the shade and hours spent at the beach, permeated by the intoxicating smell of suntan lotion. We’ve learnt to go to the beach early enough in order to find parking and some space on the sand. Late afternoon is also a good time, around half past five, when people start returning home to prepare dinner. Usually, inspired by the children, we go twice a day.

Following our short seaside holiday, we’re going to the Alps to explore the high country from a campsite surrounded by mountains. After camping there we’ll travel to the Pyrenees, where we’ll also camp. So, apart from the few days at the sea, we have chosen mountains as the theme for our holiday. After returning home, I’ll write another newsletter with photo’s and stories of our trip.

In the meantime, I would love to show you a few places worth visiting if you ever have the opportunity to come to this part of France. There are many towns, villages, cathedrals, beaches, museums and so on to visit. It all depends on what you are interested in and, of course, how much time you have available. I’m not going into too many details about the towns and other interesting sites, but will allow the photos to give you an impression of the various places.

Firstly, Aix-en-Provence is definitely worth a visit. It’s usually quite busy, but those not scared of getting up a little bit earlier than the rest of France, will, once again, find parking easily. The French, and other holidaymakers, sleep quite late during the holiday. If you plan to see Aix, you’ll need time. One of the best days to visit is Saturday, when markets add extra colour to the streets. Here follows a list of other places of interest, each including at least one photo:

-Ansouis:

-Cucuron: -Sausset les Pins: -Martigues: -Roussillon:
-Salon-de-Provence: -Les Baux-de-Provence: -Avignon:
-Eygalieres:-L’isle sur la Sorgue:

-Lourmarin:

-Cassis, especially the Calanques:
-La Ciotat:

-Vernegues:
-Saintes Maries de la Mer:
-Roman Aqueduct close to Fontvieille:
-Fontaine de Vaucluse:
-Camargue:
-Drive from La Ciotat to St. Tropez:
-St. Tropez: -Aigues Mortes:
-Lacoste:

-Bonnieux:

The places I’ve shown you here are just some of many. There are literally hundreds of other villages to visit, but, I believe, these photos at least gave you an impression of what Provence looks like.

I anyway don’t want to show you everything. You must still have something to look at when you come and visit this area.

Good luck to those of you in the cold Southern hemisphere, but just remember, we all get a turn to go looking for the Summer.

All the best to everybody.
André.

Newsletter 3: A Castle To Call Home

2007-06-01T10:19:00.000+02:00

It is common knowledge, to those well-read and informed ones among you, that all Europeans are rich. Being so wealthy, it is only normal that the whole population prefer to live in mansions. These houses, if one is allowed to call it that, are all enormous – the size of the building only depends on the contents of the proud owner’s bank account, whether the currency is Euro’s, Pounds or whatever.

Potential real estate buyers who are marginally wealthier than the normally rich, can even choose to live in manor houses, situated on beautifully manicured country estates. In addition to these aforementioned affluent Europeans, one also finds the fortunate few inheritors of family fortunes - the elite who always desire to appear slightly more prosperous than their neighbours. These select souls can even afford the luxury and charm of staying in a medieval castle.

Imagine that, living in a place hundreds of years old, protected by history embedded in the thick stone walls. Not only do you have enough space, inside your castle and on the grounds surrounding it, but it is also safe and warm. Well, only if you have an effective heating system. Luckily, as we all know, nowadays no castle is without central heating, to protect body and mind from the onslaught of the harsh, inhuman winters.

After spending several hours on the internet, I was convinced that countless castles were eagerly waiting to be sold on the French property market. Thus, with a detailed mental picture of the one I wanted to live in, I arrived in France. Excitedly, I prepared myself to finally fulfill my lifelong dream of dwelling in my own castle.

Since childhood, I have fantasized about owning a castle I could call home. I had waited long, sometimes difficult years, for that elusive dream to come true. During that time of anticipation, I had painted a romantic picture in my mind of that wondrous, enchanted place.

The image of my own castle often gave me hope, a reason to live for. I was convinced that my castle dream was now within my grasp. Soon, the illusion would be transformed into something tangible. I already almost felt the solid walls of the place around me. Before long, my dream would stop fading into obscurity like the dreams of night at the moment of waking.

Supported by the unlimited availability of the mighty South African Rand (that’s the currency used in South Africa for those few ignorant ones out there), we started our hunt for a homely castle. During this extended battle, I often felt like a courageous knight wielding a powerful sword of economy. From the first castle we visited, I was impressed. Often, I had to slap myself in the face to determine if this was all not only the continuation of my dream. With red cheeks, I quickly came to the conclusion that it was reality, that in Europe all people live a real life, but in a constant state of dreaming.

As proof of our castle hunting, but also for your viewing pleasure, I am now including some photos. Please note, though, that the following pictures represent a small sample of the multitude of castles we visited. Unfortunately, there is simply just not enough space on this page to include everything we were shown by the estate agents. In any case, it will leave you something to look at if, and hopefully when, you visit France yourself one day.

I must also add that every visit was equally wonderful and confusing. We saw so many impressive places that it actually started burdening us with indecision. I remember, after only a short while, how often I began to ask myself the question: ‘How will we be able to only choose one castle?’ I was beginning to wonder if we shouldn’t buy at least two – one for summer and the other for winter. Then again, if one bought two, you could just as well buy four – a castle per season. Was that a practical idea? Or, should one make peace with the fact that you would be the owner of only two French castles?

But first, look at the photos and try to understand the dilemma we faced. I will number them for clarity.

Number 1 was a fairly pleasant house, but not much more than that. There was just one problem: it was a bit small. You must remember that I am from South Africa and I had to prove something to these French folks. I had to show them that us Africans also have taste and, of course, money. I knew, instinctively, that I had to make an impression on my neighbours from the first day. We all know that the only thing that counts in life is the first impression. If mine wasn’t strong or impressive enough I was convinced that all of us (including my poor French wife) would be discriminated against as ‘those foreigners’, or even worse: ‘those backward Africans.’ Look at the photo. You can do nothing but agree with me that we would have been a bit cramped in this little house.

After our visit to this hovel, and especially following my outburst, during which I used both the French swear words I know, as well as the rest of the other approximately twenty words of French I have mastered, the estate agent understood much better what we were looking for. That’s when he suddenly started showing us the more impressive, real castles. Luckily, I knew before our arrival in France that the local agents always attempt to sell the cheaper places to unwary foreigners first. I was determined not to fall for this trick in my quest of keeping up with the Joneses.

The next one, number 2, I loved very much. It was impressive in a classical, medieval way. There was just one problem: noisy neighbours. If it wasn’t for that one detrimental factor, I would have bought it immediately. In fact, I already stood with my cheque book in my hands and was about to ask the estate agent to borrow his pen when the neighbours started playing loud French music. The music, combined with raucous laughter, made me run to the window of the main bedroom immediately. It was unacceptable. In South Africa we had neighbours with noisy dogs. I was unwilling to be subjected to similar torture in France.

Castle number 3 was, and still is, one of my favourites. It had a lovely garden. Especially the extensive lawn instantly caught my eye. Looking down at it from the tower, it reminded me of a sea of green. There was enough space for the children to play frisbee, kick ball, fly their kites and run around. We would also be able to picnic there. I already imagined the garden parties we were going to host. Ample parking for guests was also not going to be a problem.

Castle number 4 was perfect. It was extremely spacious, well lit for such an old building, and there were more than enough rooms for friends to stay over while doing the ‘European thing.’ I already pictured myself living there, saw how I patiently waited for one of the servants to light a fire in the enormous fireplace in winter, when I heard a strange sound. At once, I was transported back to the wilds of Africa. You can imagine my surprise when I heard a lion roaring again only seconds later. Only then, the agent informed us that the castle was built close to a zoo. Alas, I couldn’t visualize us living in all that space when so many animals lived in cages only meters away. One night, I even attempted freeing the animals, but the French Police frowned upon that incident.

Castles number 5, 6 and 7 had charm and good views, but all three of them needed quite a lot of renovations to be finished before one could move in. I was unwilling to struggle with builders, plumbers and electricians in the South of France, fully aware of their reputation of being unreliable and, apparently, lazy. We decided against buying any one of these places. Look at the photos and you will agree that completing work of such a scale would have taken months.

The next castle we visited, number 8, was the most secure of the lot. At least that’s what I thought at the beginning. In fact, it was still surrounded by a 30-foot high wall and had many access gates that could be closed at night. The problem there was the street children. At every entrance, hundreds of them waited. One could have overlooked this if only their begging was of a gentle nature. On the contrary, they were quite aggressive and very demanding. If you look at these two on the photo, you can see they are vicious. I even wondered if some of them were not trained to scale the walls and steal from us at night.

The last two castles I’m showing you, number 9 and 10, once again had ample parking and enough room to even accommodate the South African president and his whole extended family while on a state visit to France. Number 9 needed some paint, but otherwise it was ready for occupation. Number 10 was situated next to a monastery and although the bells might have woken one up at least once an hour, there is a certain charm to that sound.

By now, I know that all of you are eagerly waiting to learn how, in the end, we were able to decide on only one (or two) castles to buy. This is the moment when I might disappoint some of you. It’s time for a reality check. I am the bearer of bad news. The fantasy is over! No more daydreaming and definitely not another moment of thumb sucking. Let’s return to the harshness of truth.

Firstly, despite the fact that there are some very wealthy Europeans, the majority of the population is not in any way rich. Most people just get by and many people struggle financially. Thus, secondly, literally only a handful of people can afford to live in a castle. The other castles one can only visit after paying an entrance fee. For extravagant folks (with big bank accounts-but not big enough for buying a castle of their own) there is the option of staying in a castle for a few days similar to other people finding accommodation in a hotel.

I hope you will excuse me for disillusioning you. However, you can’t deny that you also enjoyed my fantasy of living in a castle. I have to inform you that we don’t live in a castle and that the only ones we can afford to visit are the ones (usually ruins) that are free to enter – the others are too expensive. No, we live in a house without any servants.

We rent the house we currently stay in. Recently we started looking for a house to buy, but have noticed that few houses are cheap in France. We are now considering buying a caravan and parking it somewhere under a tree close to a stream. No, only joking. I believe we will eventually find a house to call home.

In closure, I can tell you that even renting the house we stay in now was not an easy affair. One has to earn three times the salary of the rent amount in order to qualify for renting it. If, for example, the rent is a 1000 Euro’s per month, one has to earn 3000 Euro’s. Any foreign money or investments are also not taken into consideration. Then, one’s application to rent must be approved by an Insurance Agency. This is done to protect the owner of the house in case the tenant stops paying rent. In our case, we were not credible enough to qualify for renting a house through the Estate and Insurance Agencies. We had to do it privately and even then, we still had to have two guarantors. So, living in a castle might remain a dream for quite some time to come. However, what would life be without dreams?

Cheers for now,
Yours sincerely,
André

Visual Newsletter 1: Visiting Colmar

2007-05-14T14:58:00.000+02:00

Here you can watch some footage filmed while visiting Colmar. My great-grandfather will be proud of the first one and for those of you who prefer a bit of colour, watch the second video.

Please Note: Click twice on the play icon to start the video.

"Once Upon A Time In Colmar"

"Colmar In Colour"

Newsletter 2: Salon-de-Provence: Our current hometown

2007-05-06T09:52:00.000+02:00

No, no, no! I knew you were going to do it. Yes, all those non-French speaking people please raise your hands. Let me guess, you pronounced the ‘n’ in the word Salon. Well, that’s exactly how I would have done it. I mean, the letter is there. I, just like you, can see it very clearly. But, you made one mistake. You forgot that we are in France now. And maybe you don’t remember that people speak French here. Which means that in the French language, certain letters, in numerous words, are just there to make the word look complete. It doesn’t mean you must actually pronounce the letter.

The letter is like garnish on a plate of food. All of you are familiar with that sprig of parsley adding a touch of green next to the yellow of the lemons when you order fish at a restaurant. Most people will remove the parsley immediately. A few might eat some of it with the fish. While others don’t even notice it.

In the word Salon the ‘n’ is that neglected letter, the garnish of the word. If Salon was spelt without the letter ‘n’ it would just not have looked right. Salo. No, even the spell checker immediately recognizes the word as odd. Anyway, how would one have pronounced it? Say-low? Or maybe, saa-loo. It would have been too confusing. So, I suppose there is a reason why the letter is there - to round off the word, to complete it by giving it an end.

Immediately you want to know how one should pronounce the word. The good news is that it's very simple. Drop the 'n'. No, don’t remove it from the word as I explained above. Just don’t say it. Like this: Sah-loh. Try it again. Very good. Now it's right. You speak French like a true Frenchman, or -woman. I'm relieved that short language lesson is over. Now I can get on with this newsletter.

SALON WEBSITE AND STATISTICS:

Salon-de-Provence is our current hometown. I suppose I'll always refer to Pretoria as my true hometown so I should probably rather call Salon the town in which we now have a home. While we were still living in South Africa, knowing that we would be based in Salon after arriving in France, we wondered what the town was going to be like.

I immediately looked for information on the internet. If any of you are interested to learn a bit more about Salon please visit the following website: http://www.beyond.fr/villages/salon.html. For those of you who are too busy, or not really interested in the site let me give you a brief summary:

- According to the site the town’s population is 34 054. Well, after we arrived it is now 34 058. Which means it’s not a small village but also not too big a town.
- The altitude here is only 90 meters above sea level.
- Nearby towns are Aix-en-Provence (32km), Cavaillon (24km), Marseille (49km) and Avignon (50km). There are numerous other small villages very close to Salon.
- Initially, as far back as the 12th century, Salon was fortified around a hilltop fortress called Chateau de l’Empéri, which is a well-preserved and partly restored castle.
- Salon’s biggest claim to fame is the fact that Michel de Nostredame, popularly known as Nostradamus, lived here for the last 19 years of his life. There is a museum in town in the house where he stayed before his death in 1566. Apparently many of his famous future predictions were written there, just down the road from where we live.

WHAT SALON IS REALLY LIKE:

Not even a week after our arrival in France, while still staying in Aix-en-Provence, we came to Salon for a visit one hot sunny afternoon. Not one of us knew what to expect from the town since we had never visited it before. Was it going to be horrible? To be honest, few towns in France are ugly, but believe me when I tell you that some of the more industrial towns are not very attractive. Was this going to be one of those towns? We hoped that it wouldn’t be, that it would at least be a fairly attractive town in which one could feel comfortable. After all, the word ‘salon’ means lounge, sitting room or living room. Were we going to find room to live here?

We entered town from the South and drove slowly down a wide boulevard lined with massive plane trees. Although many people were strolling on the sidewalks the roads were fairly quiet. People are away on holiday, we thought. Now, we know that Salon never gets too busy. Obviously there are times when peak traffic congests the roads but you learn to take alternative roads or your bicycle when you travel around town during those times.

After we found parking easily (which, I can assure you, is not the case in many French towns) we walked around the town’s centre where pedestrian walkways make it very pleasant and safe to walk. Since Salon as a whole is not too big the centre of town is also quite small. And, although it isn’t as stylish as Aix-en-Provence it is pretty in a typically Provencal way. One still finds smaller shops in the heart of town, including the bakery, bookshops, clothes and jewellery stores, take away food shops as well as several sidewalk cafés with tables lined up next to the narrow street.

On Wednesdays there is a big market on a parking site in town that is still a free parking area on the other days of the week. On Sunday there is another smaller market next to a park in the centre of town. While we explored Salon during our first visit we immediately started liking the town, were relieved that we didn’t end up in Dumpville.

Salon’s size is one of the most attractive aspects of it. Although it’s big enough to provide all necessary shops and services it is still small enough to give it the feeling of a bigger rural town. One can walk or cycle nearly everywhere. From where we live it takes only about 15 minutes to walk to the centre of town.

Another reason why we enjoy living here is the town’s location. It’s relatively close to many other interesting towns and villages. Access to and from Salon is also very easy. We live in the North of town and it takes us about a minute, if not less, to drive out of town into the countryside. We are discovering many small roads that are a welcome alternative to the national roads or the busy toll roads.

We live in a quiet neighbourhood where we don’t have too many neighbours with dogs. I can assure you that I don’t miss the annoying dogs of the neighbours we had in South Africa. There is no through traffic on our street and it is safe for the children to cycle around the block.

Even though Salon is predominantly a worker’s and middle class town you find all and any type of people here. In general the people are pleasant and seem to live life with a ‘live and let live’ attitude.

Although we have only lived here for two months we have already adopted Salon as our new home. It is a pleasant town to live in and the better we get to know it the more I believe we will like it. What is also funny is that the house we are staying in has got a really big living room for a French house. So, it seems like we’ll have enough room to live in after all.

With that I greet you,
All the best,
André

Newsletter 1: An Introduction To The Newsletters

2007-05-02T16:09:00.000+02:00

Here it is at last - the update all of you have been waiting for so eagerly. Yes, I know some of you have spent sleepless nights, waiting in anticipation and excitement for news from a country far away, where people speak a funny language, eat loads of cheese and drink even more wine - that strange and wonderful place called France.

I apologize for only writing this letter now. In my defense I can say that things don’t only happen slowly in Africa. Yes, I haven’t forgotten that there is a reality called ‘African Time’ in South Africa. But let me assure you that even in so-called first world countries things don’t necessarily happen as quickly as one would want it to happen. Even in France there is something that I have started calling ‘European Time’. And let me assure you, it isn’t much faster than African time.

Before we left South Africa I still used to get frustrated when I had to wait at a till in Checkers or Pick and Pay to buy a few items. After arriving here it didn’t take me long to realize that some of the old black till ladies in SA are more competent than numerous young white till women here in France. And, I know this you’ll definitely not believe, in general the black women are even friendlier.

The idea with the intended newsletters is to keep those of you that are interested in life in France informed about everyday things here as witnessed through the eyes of an outsider – a South African on the inside of another culture. Yes, I can, and definitely will, show you pictures of beautiful places we have visited and others we’ll hopefully visit in future. But I also want to destroy some of the misconceptions so many of us have about Europe.

I live here now. As we all know, it is completely different when you live somewhere as opposed to only visiting the same place. On holiday one is enveloped in an aura of excitement and wonder. You look at a country through the eyes of your inner child. Suddenly all everyday things become wonderful. People, buildings and places are painted with a layer of magic. It happens to all of us. We are charmed by villages and sights that are different from that which we see on a daily basis. Travel casts a spell over our emotions that can reach the core of our being. But, that spell can distort the reality of everyday life. In these Newsletters I hope to show you the magic of France, but I’ll also show you that there are so many aspects of life here that are very similar to life in South Africa.

In the next newsletter and those thereafter I will deal in more detail with specific aspects of our life since we left South Africa and arrived here in France. This first newsletter, however, will be a brief overview of what we have been doing since arriving. Read it as a short update, written especially to those of you with whom we haven’t really been in contact since the 25th of July.

GREETING FAMILY AND FRIENDS: Finally it was the long awaited evening of the 25th of July 2006. All four of us were excited and anxious, not knowing what the flight or our ‘new’ life in France would involve. We knew it was going to be a radical change by moving to France. Exactly how big we could only anticipate.

We arrived early at the airport and booked ourselves and our luggage in without any delay. After that we headed to the Spur for a farewell meal. When next we would taste a Spur burger was (and still is) a question I don’t have an answer for. After the meal we said our farewells, went through Passport Control and rushed to the bus that waited to take us to the plane.

When we entered the plane we immediately noticed that it wasn’t too full. We had paid for four seats next to each other. Instead, the air hostess offered us two rows of four seats, right behind each other. Luxurious flying for a change. For once I might even sleep during a flight, I thought.

Iberia flight IB6050 from Johannesburg to Madrid left on time at 21h25. Barely an hour later we were served our second dinner for the evening. After the food trays were removed by the hostesses the passengers grew quiet as the lights were turned off. Surprisingly Lauren and Luca didn’t struggle too much to fall asleep. Even with all that space I couldn’t sleep. Apart from falling off the seats once during the night Luca slept well. In front of us Lauren was also snoring away gently. She also fell off the narrow seats, but it didn’t even wake her up.

About 7h30 on Wednesday the 26th of July we landed in Madrid. Outside a European heatwave raged. Inside we appreciated the protection of the air-conditioned airport. We prepared ourselves for the two hour wait and our connecting flight to Marseille.

The flight to Marseille was delayed by nearly an hour. We were already standing next to the plane when we were told that it wasn’t yet ready to take off. Waiting outside the terminal building in the Spanish heat was a sudden and not completely pleasant way of being welcomed to the intensity of the European summer. When we eventually boarded the plane it wasn’t much cooler inside. Once it took off we rejoiced for the cool air that filled the cabin.

We landed in Marseille around midday. Annie’s parents, Maurice and Marie, and her brother, also called Maurice, were already waiting for us. Her mother was overjoyed to see Annie returning to France. She was also very happy to see her grandchildren. What she thought of the arrival of her son-in-law that still can’t speak much French I couldn’t determine. No, only joking, both my parents-in-law were very happy to see us. After greeting them we started driving to La Ciotat where we would stay at their place for the first week or so after our arrival.

During lunch I realized that we were back in the ‘Kingdom of Food’, where simple dishes become delicious. (Actually France is, and has been, since the French Revolution in 1789, a Republic. But ‘Republic of Food’ just doesn’t sound as pleasant as ‘Kingdom of Food’. So please forgive me this inaccuracy.) Meals are usually accompanied with a cold Rosé or a chilled Cotes Du Rhone red wine. And no meal would be complete without a cheese platter to round it off, just in case one hasn’t eaten far too much already.

In France Summer is the time when meals are enjoyed unhurriedly at a table, in order to really appreciate the different tastes of the various dishes. Here one doesn’t gulp down the food just to relieve one’s hunger. Food is far too important to be wasted like that. Often a dish will be discussed and analyzed while it is being eaten. It will be lifted to the level of a religious experience.

After lunch all four of us excused ourselves and went for a very much needed afternoon nap. After sleeping, around 5:30 that afternoon, we went to the beach. ‘Isn’t that a bit late to go to the beach?’ you ask. No, on the contrary. It’s the best time of the day to go. It is still around 35 degrees Celsius and the water is approximately 30. So actually it is already getting cooler than earlier during the day. The beach also gets a bit quieter as many people start leaving to go and prepare for dinner. While washing the fatigue of travel away in the bath-like water of the Mediterranean Sea I finally felt glad to be in Europe.

THE TOWN WHERE WE LIVE: France is divided into Regions which are subdivided into Departments. In our case we are in the Region of Provence-Alpes-Côte d’Azur and the Department we live in is called Bouches-Du-Rhône. ‘Bouche’ means mouth and since we are very close to the mouth of the Rhône river it makes sense to call this area ‘The Mouth of the Rhône’.

The map above might not be the best in the west, but it will at least give you a good idea of the area in which we live. Number 1 is Marseille, as you can see. Number 2 is La Ciotat, where my parents-in-law live. Number 3 shows you where Aix-en-Provence is. We stayed there in my sister-in-law’s flat while we were looking for a car and a house. And number four is Salon-de-Provence, the town in which we live and the place that we currently call home. Salon is a pleasant town to live in. According to different websites there are anything between 35 000 to 38 000 inhabitants. So, it’s not too big, but neither too small. We live in the north of Salon in a quiet neighbourhood. Yes, in South Africa it was Pretoria North and here it is Salon North. I suppose once you’re from the North you can’t live anywhere else.

LA CIOTAT: Here are a few photo’s of La Ciotat where we stayed from the 26th of July until the 1st of August. We stayed at my parents-in-law where we were fed like royalty, went to the beach twice a day and just relaxed before the BIG search for a car and a house was to start.

AIX-EN-PROVENCE: On the first of August we left La Ciotat for Aix-en-Provence, or simply Aix (pronounced like the letter ‘x’) as the locals call it. According to the France Lonely Planet Guidebook ‘Aix was founded as a military camp in 123 BC on the site of thermal springs, which are still flowing to this day’. So Aix has been around for quite a while. Around 137 000 people live in Aix. Compared to Salon (where we live) it feels big. Although it is considered as a big town in French standards it feels like a city after one gets used to the slower pace and less traffic of Salon. It is only about 40 kilometers from Salon and we will visit it quite often since not only does Bernadette, my sister-in-law, live there, but it is also a joy to walk down its wide boulevards and mingle with locals as well as French and numerous foreign tourists.

We stayed for three and a half weeks in Aix while we started looking for a car to buy and a house to rent. The flat was only a one bedroom place and coming from South Africa where we are spoilt with space it was quite an adjustment to suddenly live in a small place. But since Bernadette was away on holiday we had the place to ourselves. Luckily it is also right next to a big park and we took the dogs, I mean kids, for walks on a daily basis.

In Aix I realized that Europe is in quite a few ways much more complicated than South Africa. The biggest complication that we encountered was renting a house. We expected it to be very simple but it ended up being unnecessarily complicated and worrisome. I’ll describe in more detail the process of renting a house in France in one of the next newsletters.

Finally we found a house in Salon. Although some of the other places we went to look at were also nice we are very happy with the place we found. I’ll also show you our house in one of the next letters. We moved in on the 26th of August.

I’m greeting you now, until next time.
All the best,
André

2007-05-02T16:02:00.000+02:00