Top three reasons to be a French expat
Tomorrow it’s my birthday, and I’ll be…a little bit older. It’s also exactly six years since we took over the keys for the house where we now live. Time to reflect on whether it was a wise decision moving to France, or whether we are frittering our lives away?
When we came to France we thought we would decide after two years whether to stay or not. Two years came and went and the discussion never seemed to arise, as far as I remember.
So I haven’t got time for all that now, but I will mention the main reasons why I am happy to be an expat in France.
1) I look out on trees and fields and sunflowers and ancient buildings and tractors and I don’t work in an office.
I once had an office in the gardens next to Princes Street in central Edinburgh. Another time I had an office 200 metres from Saint Pauls Cathedral in London that directly overlooked the cathedral. So I’ve often been spoiled with great views. But great views don’t compensate for the unnatural lighting in an office, or for a life working for someone else.
2) I never use public transport, mostly because there is none here. During the summer when I was out cycling I happened to be near the rail line that passes through the Dordogne when a train went whizzing past. I stopped to watch. It seemed strange and out of place, like a bit of an old life had popped into my new life.
I almost wished I could sit on the moving train for five minutes, but the feeling passed. I didn’t for a moment wish that I was stood on the platform at Paddington station listening to the announcement that all trains were delayed because a lorry had run into a bridge, which used to happen quite often.
3) Personal freedom! This afternoon it was sunny and I went for a bike ride. Tomorrow it’s my birthday and I might do nothing. Most days I work as many hours as I ever did when I was a paid employee, if not more.
But the important thing is the freedom to choose when and whether I work. I can do nothing, if I’m so inclined. I can spend the day chopping wood or developing websites, blogging or cycling.
No one cares, except Mrs B who wants me to unblock the sink in the bathroom, and I keep forgetting. I wonder if she will remind me again tomorrow? Surely not on my birthday…
Cycling through the Dordogne is positively breathtaking. When we first arrived in France, from the US, we stayed with a friend near St Cyprien close to Sarlat. We rode bikes everywhere. Coming to France was enough of a dream but then riding bicycles through idyllic countrysides was like an orgasm.
I just went out cycling for a couple of hours this morning before it got too hot - you’re right, it’s about as good as it gets. I’m surprised more people don’t hire bikes when they visit - most people are fine if they take it slow, even if they almost never ride a bike normally, but prefer to sit in a hot car. Ever a mystery to me.