Just how happy are the French?

French Bistro Etiquette: "You can't charm young women while eating sausage and mashed potatoes"

France: Fed-up Macron supporters start to grumble

Macron and the military: Has power gone to his head?

Battle of the alpha males? Trump meets Macron in Paris

The bitter, bad losers of the French parliamentary election

Macron's party appears to be heading towards absolute control of parliament. Under the French presidential system Macron will have more or less total control of how the country is governed.

However there is something very wrong with the French electoral system if one believes in parliamentary democracy.

Over 51% of the country did not vote. Plus those who voted blanc. Of those that did vote his party got just under a third of the vote. That means his popular support is less than a third of less than 50%.

Not exactly a massive support on the part of the French people. He was too young to have known 1968; not even born in fact.  Everyone of my generation has his own '68, be it Paris, Prague or Saigon. We of course are "yesterday's men" whose opinions are not fit for the dustbin.

If he doesn't deliver on what he's promised ( I can't exactly remember what that was) the French are likely to resort to their favourite oppositon platform, that is the street.

France Legislative Elections: Macron set for landslide majority

France Legislative Elections: "Hollande will remain in history as the one who killed his own party"

Macron's momentum - Landslide expected in French legislative elections

I have heard the question raised as to whether Macron is a neo Bonaparpist or a neo Gaullist.

One might also raise the question whether France is a parliamentary democracy.

I am old and cynical,  I intensely dislike the cult of the personality as well.

It's going to be an interesting summer if we throw in Trump and May.

Germany vs France 2017 - Who Would Win - Army / Military Comparison

I wonder if the French railways, SNCF, are not entering the silly season.

I wonder if the French railways, SNCF, are not entering  the silly season.

I was at the booking office to get some tickets to go to Paris to collect my grandson for the weekend.

The clerk there suggested I go to Paris First class as the ticket was cheaper than the Second class. A little odd that. Then I asked for a return to Paris from Orléans Sunday morning. Sorry she said no trains Saturday or Sunday morning; first train 4.30 Sunday evening. OK I said I’ll take 2 reservations on that. “Sorry that train is full, so are all the others after it”. I had to get to Paris Sunday (grandson has school Monday morning) and I had to get back to Orléans Sunday evening.

So I had to buy 2 tickets to Paris with the prospect of standing in the corridor all the way.  There’s a heat wave on, I’m 78 and grandson 7.

I also have to be in Paris on 4^th June for a meeting. The clerk, “Sorry no trains that weekend either. Services are down for maintenance. I’ve been travelling this line for 40 years now. Once upon a time things were simple. Now booking is becoming a headache. If there are problems it’s because non prestigious lines have been neglected for the TGV, high speed trains on major lines which of course are more prestigious for the government.

I imagine I’ll be reduced to trying  BlaBlaCar with some unknown driver. That is if I succeed in using my Smartphone  app and there is in fact a driver going in my direction at the right time. I no longer drive, in fact I loathe being driven by anyone else as well.

So much for the Macron Presidency!  It’s already broken down in my opinion.

France Has Delayed The End Of The World - The Daily Show | Comedy Central

Cannes: Bollywood to Hollywood with Deepika Padukone

France's outspoken new PM

Is Macron's bromance with François Bayrou dead?

Perhaps Macron, the Pure (and Innocent?) is waking up to the world of Realpolitik.

France has fought 3 wars against the Germans and yet his first foreign visit is to Merkel; following in the footsteps of Holland and Sarkozy. Why not wait a decent interval, or let her come and do the courting, after all he is not averse to older women?

So the business with Bayrou is nothing but a storm in a teacup, played up by journalists on the watch for any story of doom.

As the United Kingdom is indeed heading to its own destiny, probably at the bottom of the ocean blue, having chosen the lesser of two evils, being caught between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea

So also France is heading into the Great Unknown, led by an untested youth, (at least in the eyes of someone born before the war (2^nd World War) and was stationed in Berlin before the wall was put up let alone before it was torn down.

Triangles, voter fatigue and the Bourbon Palace: France gears up for parliamentary elections

Eurovision 2017 Rehearsals Live Stream - Ukraine, Italy, Spain, Germany, UK, France

Presidential perlimpinpin!

French Elections: Last Week Tonight with John Oliver (HBO)

Old news perhaps but a useful reminder of where we are today.

Macron vs. Le Pen: France's bitter presidential run-off race (part 1)

France Presidential Election: How did Fillon fall from favor in the eyes of the French people?

Macron, Le Pen qualify for 2nd round of France's presidential election

The Jura region’s treasured ‘Salt Road’

AC 35 Update Man Overboard for Team France 4.10.2017

French Overseas Regions and Territories Explained

Is the French language in danger from an English invasion?

Brexit: "The consequences could be very hard for British living in France"

France’s second presidential TV debate: 11 candidates face off

Paris: Demonstration over police killing of Chinese man turns violent

Usually the Asian community in Paris causes no problems. The Vietnamese have been integrated for decades, do excellently at school; many are also highly qualified. They also have a strong family structure.

The Chinese also tend to solve any problems they have inside their own community. There is perhaps a problem with Chinese immigration which is linked to sweat shops and also less integration into French life.

I do not know the ins and outs of the current incident. On the surface though it appears to be American style SWAT tactics on the part of the police which might stir up a completely unnecessary antagonism on the part of a community which is not part of the current French social urban  problem.

Spring is here. The sun is shining. Well perhaps not on everyone.

The year’s at the spring,

And day’s at the morn;

Morning’s at seven;

The hill-side’s dew-pearled;

The lark’s on the wing;

The snail’s on the thorn;

God’s in His heaven—

All’s right with the world!

Perhaps in Browning's world of 1841 'all was right with the world'. 

Might I recommend to M. Fillon to always carry two wads of cotton wool when being interviewed by journalists? Then if one of them turns out to be a harridan he could stuff his ears up. This would not only blot out the irritating questions and permit him to remain calm, cool and collected but might also give the offending journalist a case of the terminal jitters.

Listening to the news on France Info this morning one could be left with the impression it was the French who invented Summer Time during the petrol crisis of 1973 or thereabouts. Which just goes to show how young today’s experts are.

I can remember Summer Time during my youth. It was introduced in the UK in 1940 and abandoned (with great common sense) during the 1950’s. It had been introduced during the Great War as well.

Frankly I find it a headache as it messes up my sleep for a week; not to mention children and cows.

A pity we can’t live the year through with natural time.

Trouble in French Guyana! Was there not  a Dutch Guyana and a British Guyana at one time? Both colonies but now independent.

Oh well a colony by any other name etc……………

I remember when Mayotte in the Comores became a French overseas department there was this black teenager being interviewed. I have never forgotten her saying “now I am European…”.

Doubtless an ever expanding European Community but an odd sense of geography!

Disdaining modern politicians. The joys of being an old reactionary.

As I type this post I am listening to Bruce Springsteen singing old Pete Seeger songs.

When I was young, that’s late teens to early twenties I was not at all interested in the then modern singers of that period. With Youtube and advancing years I am taking much more of an interest in music I rather disdained. Certainly no Beetles or Woodstock for me at that time.

There is something I find rather strange though, that is old age pensioner type hippies. Long hair, usually done pony tail style and an earing or two. When I remarked on this to my son some years ago he couldn’t understand my question; he thought it quite natural. Then of course he didn’t know the time when old men, young as well, all had short hair, no ear rings, (associated with pirates or gypsies), and heaven forbid shaven scalps.

We had a fellow in the regiment who was fed up with always getting short back and sides so got an American style crew cut. The RSM made him wear his helmet all the time until his hair grew back.

In the Bahamas one would wear a jacket and tie to the cinema and stand up for the National Anthem at the end of the film.

In Saigon any young men with long hair were considered hippies therefore anti-war thus pro-communist and probably draft dodgers as well so were picked by the police and if lucky only got their hair shorn.

So now I am considered some sort of old fashioned reactionary because I still admire our old queen, believe in something that used to be called a family, and think that any youngster who doesn’t deserve a good spanking from time to time must be sick or bone lazy.

Now which of the French presidential candidates hold the same values I do?

Can one be French if one is not a Republican?

I watched the TV debate featuring the 5 principle candidates in the upcoming elections for about an hour and a half before deciding my beauty sleep came before the fate of the French nation.

Well, I can’t vote anyway.

It was moderately interesting although none of them said anything that would have made me vote for any of them. That the 5^th Republic has run its course must be evident to everyone except a few die hard followers of some Gaullist vision of France. Hamon did mention a 7 year non renewable term for the President which to me is common sense. No one followed up on the idea of course.

Mélenchon is always amusing but then so was Marchais the old line communist leader. Fillon didn’t shine. Maybe he has things on his mind. I can understand a wife buying her husband a new suit, so long as it’s not with tax payer’s money  but whoever heard of a man buying another man a suit. Most odd to me.

Macron reminds me of an old song from the war:

Yankee doodle came to town riding on a pony,

Stuck a feather in his hat and called it macaroni.

In political terms he’s still wet behind the ears.

If I had a question for any of them it would be:

Can one be French if one is not Republican?

I’m British and I like the old Queen. I spent all night at her Coronation sleeping in the street to get a good view. I wouldn’t refer to myself as a Monarchist though. It’s just a much better system than having the country led by the likes of Thatcher, Blair or Corbyn etc. I imagine there’s a number of British who are Republicans but that wouldn’t  make them any less British, just a little eccentric perhaps but that’s quite acceptable in the UK.

In France a politician must refer to the Republic or republican values at least once every 2 or 3 minutes when he’s speaking. Do the French have a monopoly of republican values whatever they are? Imagine being born in France and not feeling at all Republican. Would one be put down or put away? Is it in French genes? Can one get cured of it? Not being Republican that is. The English tried it for ten years in the 1640’s but luckily chose the Puritan Brand. That cured them of republicanism for centuries. Since the French Revolution, the one in 1789, they’ve tried 5 brands of Republicanism a couple of Empire, gone back to a monarchy twice and diddled with other obscure forms of government.

Did someone say there's an election soon in France?

Fillon fights on despite mounting scandals

Only fit for the Knacker's yard

So the British parliament is one step closer to triggering Brexit.

I rather have the feeling they will do what they usually do and end up half in and half out.

They made a mess up over metric. I use Imperial weights and measures when speaking or writing English and metric with French. Reading British journalists trying to use metric is laughable.

I am against the breakup of the United Kingdom but Theresa May sounds utterly condescending towards the Scots and I’m quite sure that all the non English parts of the UK don’t want to be dragged down with the English conservative party.

In fact I feel May is turning into a “cheap and nasty” version of Thatcher. Cheap & nasty being a favourite expression of my no doubt long dead former art teacher.

The French of course have their own problems. Not being allowed to vote here (nor in the UK either of course) I can have no say.

It is more than probable that in this internet age old style politicians have had their day and will be put out to pasture.

I think I prefer the expression “sent to the knacker’s yard”, and for those unfamiliar with it, I include the following explanation.

Area of a slaughterhouse where animal carcasses unfit for human consumption are rendered into useful materials such as glue.

As an English colloquial expression, it is used to describe a person or object that is spent beyond all reasonable use, as in "He is only fit for the knacker's yard".

On Saint Helena, Emperor Napoleon is still waiting for his fans

Perhaps the British government could set up somewhere on  Saint Helena where all the failed presidential candidates could spend a year in contemplation on  La Folie des Grandeurs.

In return the French could provide accomodation at Devil's Island for outgoing British Prime Ministers to spend an indefinite time  reflecting their mistakes.

France's Food Fight: The growing divide between factory and organic

During the war one of my duties as a child was to collect the eggs. Our chickens ran wild and laid their eggs all over the place.

Another task was to take the peas from the pods, big round green peas.

Honey was collected from the bee hives, salt came in blocks like a loaf of bread.

Meat was mostly wild rabbit and sometimes pheasant.

Of course one ate the skin of fruit. What boy would ever peel an apple before eating it.

After the war when staying with the aunt’s in London one was sent to buy fish and chips. Of course one had to take one’s own newspaper to wrap the chips in. Oh but the fish was delicious. 

I imagine like everyone else I ate bio. Tomatoes tasted like tomatoes and potatoes like potatoes.

A much better taste than pesticides.

Were those the Good Old Days or the Bad Old Days?

France’s baguette obsession: The rules of "baguetiquette"

I am lucky that I have excellent bakers within walking distance of where I live. I must admit I cannot understand anyone living more than walking distance from a bakers. I’ve a sister in law who picks up half a dozen baguettes from the super market once a week and then freezes them. Why bother to live in France. I can remember being broke in Paris in my teens looking in bakers windows without a sou to buy a crumb.

In fact I tend to buy the kind of bread that goes with whatever meal I will be eating. I find industrial bread gives me a bloated stomach and I never touch it. On the rare occasions I go to England I generally avoid bread.

It is true though that as I now have a very varied diet including rice and pasta etc. I do not eat bread with every meal. The art is to develop good relations with the baker, usually the wife or her assistants who serve in the shop and make sure they give you the exact shade of golden brown that one is happy with.

Bread is one of those civilized aspects of France that outlive politicians who probably have no idea what a baguette costs. When is the last time anyone saw a minister walking home after work with a baguette in his hand?

Dozens abandon Fillon's campaign

Love it or hate it? 24 hours on the Champs-Elysées, France's most iconic avenue

Chivalry no longer exists in young boys in France.

The  other day I was walking through a small deserted park with my 7 year old grandson when we heard some child calling out for help.

We looked around but couldn’t see any toddler in difficulty but finally noticed a young girl of about 11 or 12 up in one of those wooden contraptions they build for kids nowadays. Rope type ladders to climb up and then poles to slide down with a wooden house type thing at the top.

This girl was in a state and steadily getting worse. She was stuck out holding onto a pole but was afraid to swing onto it and couldn’t get back on to the platform. Panic had taken hold of her.

I asked her what the trouble was and she wanted her mother who wasn’t around; in fact nobody was around.

I asked my grandson what we should do. A shrug of the shoulders and a remark to the effect of leaving her stuck up there and that we should continue on our way. I don’t think he is particularly callous, probably just not interested in the fate of strange girls. After all a boy would never get himself in such an embarrassing situation.

So I had to climb up the rope lattice work, age limit 8, hoping it would not break my age being 78, and help the girl down.

Obviously in this age of equality chivalry is doubtless considered a macho characteristic and is not taught in school. 

France's election: 'The Russians are doing what they can to bring down Macron'

"Made for sharing". Another storm in a tasse de thé?

The mayor of Paris has incurred the wrath of the Académie Française for allowing English to take precedence over French in the capital's bid to host the 2024 Olympic Games.

“Made for sharing”,

Well perhaps a little strange. I’m not quite sure what we are meant to share.

If I delve into the subject I might find an explanation but that is not the idea of sharing. Certainly it’s not their cars. I have two brother’s in law here and neither has ever shared his car.

The French should be very careful how they use English. I remember years ago in Orléans a new sports goods shop opened up called if I recollect “The Athlete’s Foot”. Well every English schoolboy knew what that affliction is, maybe English school girls but as we didn’t share showers in those days I wouldn’t know. Certainly athlete’s foot was made for sharing. Rather appropriate for a sporting event.

What with football becoming “le foot” in French and jogging becoming “le footing” etc.

I don’t see why the Académie française is so offended by English. Without French the English language probably wouldn’t have existed being  a mixture of French and Low Saxon.

Of course in this age of tweeting English has become so degraded there can’t be that many people left who know how to write it correctly let alone speak it.

If Brexit comes into force before 2024 I can’t imagine the French wanting to share anything with the English though, let alone their language.

Now whatever happened to the  Entente Cordiale? Outside of academia I doubt if anyone knows what that was in any case.

Are the French the world's best lovers?

France welcomes Trump in his own words / America First - France Second

I'm not sure I agree with all the sentiments expressed here. Why is France only second?

Of course one can only hope that refers to an electoral catastrophe. The French are really going about trying to build the biggest election mess, bigger even than Brexit or Trump. 

It might be a good idea to let the Americans win that one.

Paris' Banlieues Are Burning

Europe is no place for "yesterday's men"

Next week I have to go to Paris to pick up my grandson to bring him home for a few days. I have been instructed (?) to take him to the cinema. I haven’t been to a cinema in Orléans in more than 30 years. In fact apart from taking said grandson to a film in Paris last year I just don’t go to the cinema. The film in Paris was Peter Pan. Not of course the Peter Pan of the pantomimes of my youth way back in those days of innocence in the 1940’s. Oh no. Some new version totally unsuitable for even a modern hard boiled youth. Far too much violence.

Anyway I set about finding a cinema in Orléans. All the old ones have closed down. There’s a new one near the old market on the banks of the Loire. A bus ride, a tram ride and then a walk. No problem except one will have to time things not to be either too late or early; and of course to hope it doesn’t rain.

So I do a test run and arrive at the cinema to find a mass of people but no information desk. I wish to enquire about what films are on, the hours, the prices etc. All in a calm orderly manner. Well nobody has time to deal with me. The information is posted here and there but no advice if I should buy a ticket in advance or anything that might be useful to avoid having an angry young boy on one’s hands because one got the planning wrong.

I simply loathe going to Paris anyway. I was there about 10 days ago and had to stay overnight. At the end of dinner I noticed the cat was missing. I had been warned not to let her out if I opened the front door. I remember a mother coming round to pick her son up, my grandson’s friend, and the entrance hall had been dark with the door open.

I then spent 4 hours searching for the cat to no avail and finally went to bed at midnight but couldn’t sleep. No cat meant mice and my entire fault etc.

 I heard my son get in about 2.30 and a few minutes later the cat came in my room, sniffed me and went out again. In the morning I was informed that when my grandson and friend made too much noise playing the cat would get in a huff and go and hide in a cupboard.

Now what are today’s presidential candidates doing about improving the lot of aged grandparents without whom modern families cannot function thanks to said politicians screwing up family values and who now say we can’t even spank the little blighters. Not the cat of course.

Please don’t ask what I’d like to do to the politicians.

I hear it’s even worse in the UK. Europe is no place for “yesterday’s men”.

A short happy history of France: All's well that ends well (?)

Cogito ergo sum: A good modern translation might be "I drive therefore I am"

I was getting on a bus the other day when I noticed the fine for travelling without   validating a ticket or pass had increased to €122.

Well there are many youngsters of dubious social status who quite blatantly travel without paying. From time to time hit teams of inspectors get on the bus and control all the passengers and usually pick up one or two nogooders.

Travelling by train one is confronted by the same problem although for passengers of a certain age it gets a little more confusing as there are white periods (full price) and blue periods (reduced price) which vary during holidays. Then one has to remember to carry the necessary pass (up to date as well).

All of this gets more difficult with advancing age. Does one need a medical certificate to prove one is getting absent minded or forgetful or even senile? Certainly most of the inspectors are not qualified to judge.

I am a strong believer in public transport and physical exercise. Walk when it’s possible, and then take a bus or tram or a train when necessary.

A good idea would be to ban cars but if that is not possible at least have free transport for non car owners. Good for health and pollution.

I live in France where Descartes wrote, “I think therefore I am”,

Much better is the phrase, “I breathe therefore I am”,

In practice the French believe in the phrase “I drive, therefore I am”.

A Frenchman without his car is like a horseman without his horse.

The death toll on the roads has gone down from around 16/17 thousand a year when I arrived to perhaps 3/4 thousand a year now. However with the increase in population and therefore an increase in the number of vehicles on the roads the collateral damage (death due to pollution) must be increasing.

So thanks to drivers one could now say “I breathe therefore I die”.

Now is the time for politicians to do something about it, but drivers vote and most pedestrians are too young to vote or too old for politicians  to worry about.

In any case I doubt if most politicians have used public transport since their student days. In fact it’s a pity that instead of spending hours  reading Descartes as a student more time hadn’t been spent on 20/30 mile route marches under the benevolent eye of a sergeant major but of course they are too young to know.

The French Presidential Race: Who's who?

10 Things You Didn't Know About France

The two aspects of France somehow living side by side.

I went to see my cardiologist this morning for my annual check up. I had made my appointment a year ago at the end of my last check up. Short of collapsing in the street with a heart attack one is advised to fix the date a year in advance.

A very pleasant woman, she asked if I minded an intern being present. A young girl who didn’t look much out of her teens.

I forgot about the hour and a half in the waiting room. Whilst I was there I noticed the other five people present; two other men and three women. I also noted that all of the men were wearing highly polished proper shoes. The women were also wearing good quality shoes. I’m so used to seeing people wearing “des baskets” on their feet it was a pleasant surprise. I've even seen people wearing "des baskets' to funerals. I think they used to be called ‘plimsols’ when I was at school. I doubt that anyone born after the war knows what that means. We wore them for gymnastics. I imagine there is quite a decent class of people at my cardiologists, albeit of a certain age.

In the mean time the world goes on in France. For French politics I think we may now apply an American word. MAD. Mad as in a “Mad Hatter” but also in the American sense of Mutually Assured Destruction. That's where all the parties are headed. Well perhaps one will survive and that will really mean the destruction of the 5th Republic if nothing else.

A case of police brutality at a politically sensitive time leading to the usual riots in the down and out suburban immigrant estates.

An explosion at a nuclear plant this morning, which even if not nuclear will open a whole knew kettle of fish. I woder what the English living near Hinkley Point will think about it. One shouldn't have to worry about such things in rural Somerset.

No wonder it takes so long to get an appointment with a heart specialist.

It's raining cat's and dogs

Fillon is now on the march. The Republican Party has fallen in instead of falling out. Everything is forgiven and forgotten. I can’t exactly hear the trumpets blowing or the drums beating but they are doubtless being drowned out due to the fact it’s raining cats and dogs. Perhaps Penelope could translate that into French, it’s beyond me.

Hope maybe on the way. The Russians. Well some are saying they are behind the latest rumors in the Anglo-Saxon press about Fillon’s main rival having a friend, a boy friend? I’m not familiar with the term one should use. Well so what’s new? Ah but Macron, the rival (political) in question has denied all. Well he had to or the missus would get rather uptight. Anyway  a politicians word is as good as…..

But perhaps the time has come to talk of other things;

“Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings."

Now that’s so much better than the politics we are being subjected to.

'It never rains but it pours' for François Fillon

EUROPEAN NATIONALITY? Now what might that be?

EUROPEAN NATIONALITY

I heard something strange on TV some years ago. It was about a legal process concerning Disney land Paris. They had been taken to court by an organization called SOS Racism which promotes equal rights.

Evidently Disneyland had put out an ad a few years ago looking for new employees. In the ad they required the candidates to be of European Nationality.

Allowing for misunderstandings in translation I hope that meant of a European nationality and not European nationality. Apart from the fact I’ve never heard of such a nationality I would not accept its existence. It would mean a European State.

Now it is quite normal that they would require candidates to be European. One would hope they do not seek to employ non Europeans inside Europe. Illegal immigrants perhaps?

Now why would that be racist? What has race got to do with nationality? I am British (Nationality). I live in France where the citizens have French nationality.

Now if the ad had stated “of a European race”, once one had been able to decipher what that was it might have showed discrimination against other races. I mean one could say Caucasian. Of course the Caucasus is not in Europe and therefore Caucasians are not of European nationality although they might be of the same race as many Europeans.

I am English, or Irish or Scots or whatever. Not Welsh though. Now are those races or nationalities. British is a nationality. It is the only word that binds all the peoples of the British Isles together. That is when they’re not fighting each other or playing rugby.

Is there a French race or is the word Gallic? I always call them a Gallic people living in France, although most seem to come from Africa these days. Maybe I’m not allowed to say that.

In any case I am not at all racist. I am sometimes nationalistic, particularly when watching rugby. I do think though it would be illegal for Disneyland to employ anyone not of a European nationality so I think SOS Racism is barking up the wrong tree. But maybe I’m not allowed to say that either. That might cast some doubt on the species of its members which might or not be considered as racism.

Population studies: France's 'ethnicity' taboo

A wet Sunday morning in France. Bonjour tristesse.

The best-laid schemes o' mice an' men
Gang aft agley,
An' lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!

The above should be taught to French children in kindergarten.

Indeed it should be carved in marble above the entrance to the

École nationale d'administration.

One could feel sorry for the French rugby  team after a well played match at Twickenham, indeed one felt the English left a lot to be desired throughout most of the game. But all’s well that ends well as the English might say.

Politicians of course, should remeber it, thick skinned though they are. As an example I rather feel that  Blair is so thick skinned that that is all he has between both ears.

Fillon could well remember this.

Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!
It's silly wa's the win's are strewin!
An' naething, now, to big a new ane,

Oh well, politicians come and go and nothing really changes.

All that’s really left now is the Joker. Doubtless he’ll spring us a surprise or two before the day is done.

In the mean time, the rest of us poor mortals must figure out what to cook for the next meal, how to balance the household budget and what to do about those aches and pains that beset the rest of mankind. 

My Old Basque Beret

I first arrived in Orléans in 1976 after the fall of Saigon where I had been living. In those days there were very few foreigners here. When I went out walking, which I did a lot, people would look at me in a strange manner. Was it the way I carried my furled umbrella? Or that I wore a hat? After all how can one speak to a lady in the street if one doesn’t have a hat to raise.

When I was a young boy of about twelve or thirteen I met my mother down town one day. She was with a girl of about my own age. Probably the daughter of one of her friends. This was a place called Sutton, Surrey, in England. I was of course wearing my school blazer and cap. Shorts as well as I had not yet progressed to long trousers. I didn’t raise my cap to the girl so my mother told me to do so. I replied that she was only a girl and my mother said a gentleman always raises his hat to a lady no matter what her age.

I have always kept the habit although if I am wearing a soft cap I tend to give a salute if the lady is far away and I don’t get to say hello. I also do so for men that I meet. My old trilby is now more than fifty five years old. It still serves for funerals or if I’m wearing a suit to go to Paris.

Actually quite a lot of men wear hats in Orléans nowadays. I feel though that this is mostly related to the weather or a passing fashion. When it’s very cold or very hot the winter or summer hats come out. One can always tell a man who has seldom worn a hat. There are very few berets now. If I wear a hat to Paris I look very provincial as nobody seems to wear them there. When I take the Eurostar to London and arrive wearing a hat I must be mistaken for an Australian from the outback as absolutely nobody wears them at all there.

When I was young at school, perhaps about seventeen, I had an old basque beret which I wore on cycling holidays in France. It then followed me to the Bahamas and Vietnam. I must have lost it in Vietnam or the heat or bugs or rats got it. I was very attached to my old basque beret and rather regret not having got another when I first arrived in France in 1976. But then again people might have thought I was an Englishman pretending to be a Frenchman which would not have done at all.

The great shame of course is that the French themselves do not wear berets. There are moments when I feel they are no longer trying to be French. Of course this does not apply in moments of great joy or collective depression whilst following the fortunes of their national football team. Then nobody could mistake them for anything else.

France is much more than a collection of politicians

Fillon's Faltering Bid for the Presidency

Does white represent purity in the sense of a sporting ideal or does it represent elitism?

Does white represent purity in the sense of a sporting ideal or does it represent elitism? White is still worn at Wimbledon as it is in the more respectable matches of cricket. I always maintain that if white is not worn it’s not cricket in any case.

Roland Garros, that high court of French tennis is spoilt by the fact that white is NOT worn. In fact I find the men players for the most part look like long haired unshaven ill dressed hooligans. The women try to outdo each other in the latest top fashion.

The French have told me that white is not democratic, that it smacks of privilege, the bourgeoisie or is just too refined for them. Considering the way advertisers use the players, the cost of the rags they wear I would have said white was the opposite.

Perhaps white upsets their idea of anarchy, of rebellion, of undisciplined liberty. I often see players, male, wearing no shirts. I find it revolting. If nudists wish to frolic around knocking a ball to each other over a net with some sort of net like object at least they are put away out of sight.

I once noticed that Nadal would appear to have been allowed to wear some white garment without sleeves. It looked like some sort of underwear to me. I dislike seeing men’s bared shoulders. Perhaps it appeals to some women but it has no place on the centre court of Wimbledon.

There is such a thing as good taste. The French are really surprising. They lead the world in high fashion or Haute Couture. The women mostly have their hair always done in a most attractive manner. The men’s smart casual manner of dressing is indeed smart whereas English casual or dressing down is not fit for a barbecue let alone the office to say the least.

Why then does any form of dress code on the tennis court so offend them? One could say it is the fashion lobby getting involved. That could be true but it goes deeper than that. School children of course look like badly dressed hooligans. In Orléans one hardly ever sees a pretty well dressed girl these days. Some years ago I remarked in a lecture I was giving to visiting Americans that nowadays Orléans looked like Slobville.

A sign of the times? Perhaps. The dress code would now appear to be polluted. Scruffy is the norm. Perhaps it is a form of High Fashion. Perhaps the clothes cost a fortune. The Haute Couture of Scruffiness. Perhaps I am alone in a wilderness of scruffiness and am the only one not to see the beauty.

Women made to keep low profile in some French suburbs

Tipping can be an absolute headache.

Tipping can be an absolute headache. 

When I was very young in England in the 1940’s one discreetly left a threepenny bit beneath the saucer when one was in a café.

I remember going to a cinema in France in the 1950’s and having been shown my seat by an usherette settled in to watch the film. A few minutes later I noticed this usherette still standing by me jingling coins in her purse. It took another 2 or 3 minutes before it occurred to me she was waiting for a tip.

Now, with age and experience I rarely tip anyone. It’s mostly included in the bill so I see no need to add anything more. Once after giving a lecture to a group of Americans a couple left me ten franc tips. I had to politely explain that I didn’t accept tips.

There are exceptions. The young lady who cuts my hair gets one, but if ever she is absent and the owner does the job he doesn’t get one. Never tip bosses.

Frankly if anyone insists on a tip he doesn’t merit one.

Visit France - 10 Things That Will SHOCK You About France

I have always been surprised about how Americans are so easily shocked. I mean the English do sometimes find things shocking but hopefully not too often.

I have come to the conclusion that what they really mean is surprised

Miss Universe 2016/2017 - Miss France

The French are now heading to their destiny.

Well the horses are now lined up for the final furlong. How many of my readers know what a furlong is in this metric age? The length of ten cricket pitches.

1. On the extreme left the communists, Trotskyites, workers struggle etc. (not counting a few independent candidates ) under Melanchon.

 2. The official Socialist party candidate, Hamon, hard left of the party, O brave new world.

3. Macron, a sort of New Age independent leftish economic liberal Joker,

4. The Conservative, Catholic, upright, Mr Clean, Fillon,

5. On the extreme right, Le Pen, who is or is not a fascist, depending on how far left of her one is.

To understand French politics one must remember what has happened since the French revolution in 1789.

The French have had 5 republics, 2 monarchies, 2 empires and various minor forms of government including for example that of Pétain in the 2^nd World War.

The United States during the same time frame (from 1776/83) are still on their 1^st republic.

 Of course since the last upheaval in 1968 there has been nothing like a revolution although God only knows what would happen if Le Pen was victorious. God, as every Englishman knows is an Englishman, is otherwise engaged wooing a certain Trump,  so will probably not intervene. Perhaps he might be better off wooing Miss Universe

Politicians come and go but the French still eat their cheese.

De Gaulle said,

“How can you govern a country which has 246 varieties of cheese?”

 Well the situation is much worse than that. The real number is more like 400 kinds.In fact the French have the highest world consumption of cheese; about 25.9 kilos (57 pounds) a year. That’s over a pound a week.

The best are made by hand or artisanal as opposed to manufactured. Not surprising really. Some of the manufactured cheeses appear more like rubber than cheese.

Aging cheese is an art, often done in very old cellars. There is a problem of course in storing these cheeses at home because modern apartments are not equipped for it and either the heating or the fridge destroys them. An old fashioned walk in larder open to fresh air does not exist in modern buildings.

Does one eat the rind? When it is a soft cheese of course.

How does one cut a cheese? An art not taught to foreigners.

The French appear to mostly eat cheese at the end of a meal with bread and not dry biscuits. Personally I never have enough appetite for bread then so do not conform.

I have also never found the equivalent of good cheddar to make a welsh rabbit with. Trying to explain that in French though is complicated.

Oh well there are elections today to decide who will lead the Forlorn Hope, or the French Socialist party into battle against the rest in the upcoming Presidential elections.

The True Truth? The Trump Truth? or The Le Pen Truth?

Oh dear oh dear, what can the matter be. France, Penelope Fillon, and the turmoil of political reality.

Oh dear oh dear, what can the matter be.

The British have their Brexit, the Americans their Trump but all was well with France; at least for a certain conservative catholic right.

The left were turning into a three headed whatever. Macron towards the Centre doing his own thing. Melanchon rallying the forces of the extreme left; Trotskyists, Communists, and all sorts of leftovers who hadn’t switched to Le Pen and the extreme right.

The LR or Republican party had just gone through their Primary (the first ever) and had eliminated Sarkozy (the come-back kid), Juppé (yesterday’s man) and had chosen Mr Clean (Fillon) former Prime Minister, quiet spoken, reserved, well dressed, liberal (French definition) ideas on the economy, Catholic ideas on the family and prepared to bring Putin in from the cold. A stay at home mum bringing up the 5 kids in the family château. Bought I believe not inherited.

And then the bomb dropped. Well we are living in the internet age, everyone Twitters and the Truth will eventually come out. Whether it is the True Truth or Trump Truth is not really important.

Meanwhile yesterday I went to the library, which is now very modern with book section, news room, reading and research room, internet room and DVD and CD room. And now membership is free. It used to be paying but they discovered it cost more money to collect subscriptions and fines than what came in.

It’s half an hours walk away so there and back takes care of my daily exercise. I thought I’d drop in to my haidressers to book an appointment. The young girl who cuts my hair said she could do it immediately. Well there’s not much left and it only takes 10 minutes so, short back and sides, I said OK. Her family is from Madagascar. In fact her mother used to cut my hair for many years which shows how old I am getting. I’ve been using the same place for 35 years now. No problem with immigration with her. And then back home. Not to my château. Most people in France don’t own a château. Stay at home mums don’t usually earn more than 2 or 3 times the average wage. Politicians seem out of touch with the people. Well many have never actually worked in a proper job. Straight from university into the party political machine.

Oh well another day in France.

When French politicians speak English

Penelope Fillon: What exactly does she do?

BREXIT: The word all British expats in France will come to hate.

BREXIT : Now that is a subject I will really have to deal with. 

I was more or less kicked out of South Vietnam forty odd years ago.

Will I be kicked out of France and arrive in a strange country called what?

The United Kingdom of Great Britain & Northern Ireland. That was the place I left. Well by the time I arrive perhaps it will be reduced to the Disunited Kingdom of England.

It’s over 55 years since I left the UK. I have rather a feeling we won’t even be able to communicate. My English dates from the 1940’s in the days when one did learn to pronounce one’s vowels and use a very precise and clipped English.

Anyway I’m allergic to most of the things the English take for granted, things I dare not even mention here. Free speech is one of the casualties of whatever madness has taken over the UK. Even if I’m not arrested for saying what I think the bin police will get me for doing something wrong.

I could of course opt to stay in France. I went down to the Town Hall the other day to try and clarify my status. Very charming lady remembered me from twenty years ago but said I had to go to the Prefecture. So off to the Prefecture where an equally pleasant young lady said I had to go to a certain annex.

I then remembered that I had been there 35 or 40 years before when I needed a residence permit. 

The small room with a dozen foreigners had been changed for a very large room full of dozens, no scores of foreigners from everywhere in the Middle East and Africa; not a European there. Of course not, why should there be, they’re all members of the European Union now.
So I was told to take a ticket and wait my turn to then make an appointment with someone to begin whatever formalities one had to go through.

Well all I wanted was to ask a few questions. I mean after 40 years one doesn’t want to be treated as though one had just arrived from God knows where and needed to regularize one’s situation. 35 to 40 years ago it was not easy. It would appear the situation has been going downhill since.

So do I make up a packet of sandwiches and camp out in the Prefecture for the day just to ask a question?

Perhaps I can find it on line but that’s difficult enough even when you know there is an answer but finding answers to hypothetical questions is not the internet’s strong point certainly not when it is a French Government Administration involved