Our Move to France is Over!

I've suddenly realised that the summer is just about over, the kids are getting ready for La Rentrée, Bill is heading back to Liberia and ......

.....I haven't written this blog for more than 2 months.

I've been writing 'A Family Move to France' for nearly 2 years and I am more than happy to say we are now 'A Family Living in France'.

We have had moments of panic and uncertainty and of frustration and fatique but we have had even more moments of satisfaction, encouragement and fun and that great sense of achievement.



We set out to move our lives to France and I really feel we have achieved it.

Looking back, I kind of wrote this blog as a diary and also as a way of reassuring myself that things were progressing and that we were learning and discovering. And also that we were being supported by people who read this blog, friends we have made along the way and family and friends around the world.

Now our move is over, I think I can stop writing it. Either that or I need to change the title.

Actually we do have a new project on the horizon - Building a House in France.

We originally planned to self build when we first arrived here in Limoux but we ended up buying a house with a building plot instead. Well that building plot is begging us to put a small gîte or maison d'amis on it.

So.......keep your eyes peeled as the new blog is on its way.

A bientôt ~

Let's Go Shopping

"Let's go shopping!"…. (Remember the film 'White Chicks'?)

I love shopping whether it's for me or someone else but best of all, I like browsing. Ask someone to research the best X, then I'm the one to check it out.

Everyone talks about the 'Market Experience' in France and I was really looking forward to that when we first arrived. And I wasn't disappointed.


There is a certain buzz you get wandering around the fresh produce market seeing the locals (who know what they're doing and where the best stuff is) haggling and bargaining but most of all just chatting and gossiping.

Market day is the day to catch up on the latest local who, what, where and when.

Then we have shop shopping which is somewhat different....

Limoux where we live is considered a small town of 10,000 people and so as you can imagine we need to have our fair share of butchers, bakers and wine makers (and maybe candlestick makers).

I was terrified of going to the local butcher at first as experience has taught me that knowing the vocab first really helps. Receiving lambs brains instead of lamb chops somehow puts you off your dinner.

Experience has also taught me that you don't do these things in a rush. Each customer takes 10 minutes to choose and buy their produce and 10 minutes to chat and gossip. Imagine there are 3 or 4 people ahead of you in the queue......

Clothes shopping is not much different. Chat, choose, chat. Being oh so British that is something that really takes getting used to.

I like to sneak into a shop and browse (on my own) and try on things (on my own). So when the shop assistant announces with a big flourish 'BONJOUR MADAME" as you enter, pops up over the rails with a "Can I help you?" and then is continually popping her heard around your cubicle curtain as you're half naked with a "Can I get you a bigger, wider...", it sort of makes you feel uncomfortably British.

Worse still is when you leave the shop without buying anything and the shop assistant says with an even louder boom, "AU REVOIR MADAME" and I feel so guilty that I didn't buy one of those very (very, very) expensive tops.

Maybe I'm just a cheap skate but I do find France expensive for many things especially things that aren't food related. One good thing thought is that it's forced me not to buy too much and it's also taught me that as a seller on eBay France you can do really well.

You'd be amazed at the 'Nearly new' item which looks 'Nearly ready for the bin' and how the price asked for is the price paid for as new. So what if it's second or third hand.

The other thing that takes getting used to is the loooong lunch break. There is no such thing as shopping in your lunch break as everyone is lying horizontal taking that ever so important siesta. That or they're eating a 3 course meal washed down with a nice glass of something red, white or rose.

So on that note, as I see it is nearly lunch time, perhaps I should join them or maybe I'll see what I've got lurking in the garage that I can flog on eBay.

Making a Living in Limoux

When we decided to move to France just over a year and a half ago, we didn't stress too much about how we were going to financially make do.

"Hey we'll manage.
Got a bit of savings to last a few months.
Live life to the full.
We're bound to find something.
Learn a bit of French first then find a job teaching English or cleaning gites or whatever.
Let's take each day as it comes and things will sort themselves out....."

Actually thankfully we didn't think like that but there are many who do.

We did in-fact have some vague monetary plans. Bill planned to be a consultant in his field of development work and I planned to work from home with my websites. We had a little nest egg of what we thought was sufficient for a year of 'no work' just in case things didn't go as planned.

Well our nest egg very quickly became a nest without eggs. We were caught in that trap of wanting to do up the house, do up the garden, enjoy the sunshine and our new lifestyle and sample all the local delights and delicacies. And not worry about work.

All very well, but all that costs money. And we have 3 kids and a dog.

Being a bit naive about real costs (having coming from Vietnam where everything was so cheap as most things seem to be made there), we didn't anticipate the real costs of our new lifestyle.

We bought a newish house. Great we thought little work to do.

Wrong.

The French tend to strip their house when they sell it. We never realized that 30 light fittings and lampshades would cost so much or that planting a small hedge would mean a small mortgage.

So to counteract misjudgement, Bill packed his bags and went to work in far off places and i dusted off my desk and chair and sat down to balance the books and write more website pages.

Being a consultant work is never sure. Bill either seems to have too much or hes' stressing about when the next job will be. However recently he has landed a 2 year contract in Liberia which means 2 months on and 2 months off. Not ideal but it's work.

As for me, well I started dabbling with the Internet a few years ago when we were living in Asia. I wanted a job that was mobile and which allowed me to be at home with the kids when i wanted to be. That led to me creating a couple of hobby websites which have been a godsend and which I just love doing.

I soon discovered that I could earn a living from them and they now earn me income though advertising and commissions from sales.

You can read more about it here: www.kids-partycabin.com

Oh and i started this blog - but that's for fun!

A few things we discovered:

• France is not cheap. Many of our visitors from the UK feel it's much more expensive in France.
• If you don't speak good French, your chances of finding a decent paying job are slim unless you have contacts or are in a big town/city.
  
• Many French people work for family or friends. Learn French and make lots of friends and your chances might be higher.
  
• Unemployment in France is higher than in the UK.
• Teenagers finding jobs is like finding a needle in a haystack. Forget newspaper delivery boys, they don't exist. Picking grapes usually happens when the kids are back at school. If they are under 17 year old, they will be highly unlikely to be even considered.
• Working for yourself is much more feasible. However.................you will pay a lot in social security payments and taxes. Much more than if you were employed. We are discovering that and feel shocked at how many cheques we write out each month to various social security departments.

Having said all that, many people arrive here and manage or get by.

At the end of the day you need to think about whether you'd be happy just managing and getting by. If not, then you may well need to find a job that makes life more comfortable.

I so admire a friend whom I met here, who spoke little French when she arrived but was determined to succeed. Within 6 months, she was speaking enough French to get by and had set up a market stall in Limoux selling coffee. Yes coffee to the French. No-one else in Limoux (population 10,000) sold fresh coffee. She had found a great niche.

Here's her website: Le Moulin Noir

Another retired English man whom I also met in the market sells imported curry sauces and spices. His best customers are some old French ladies.

And another English friend spent a couple of years learning French and is now a French teacher to the English and runs a B&B.

So where there's a will there's way.

Don't get anxious reading this if you are thinking of making the move here, but do get realistic and do get creative with your work ideas.

Also be prepared for the social security department to whip you hard earned profits out of your hands from time to time.

Well it's now back to work for me. I'm writing an eBook about kids party games...that's another income stream I hope.

Next Time: The French Bac. What do my kids think?!

Healthy in France

In my last post I mentioned that I was going into hospital to have an operation. Well I've had it and I've come out smiling!

Strangely enough the French health care system and bureaucracy is the thing that has frustrated us the most and yet my hospital experience and after care have been superb.

Whizzing back to February...... I took a tumble whilst skiing in the Pyrenees.

Some say it was due to the fact that it was snowing heavily and I failed to wear proper goggles and failed to stop at the big wall of snow that loomed in front of me.

I'd say it was because the breaks on the skis didn't work properly.

Anyway it ended up with a visit to the accident doctor, the x-ray department, the MRI scanning department, the pharmacy, the physio and then the knee specialist.

All of this was done in the space of a few weeks with no waiting and in spite of me not having my 'Carte Vitale' - the magic green card which says you belong here in France and are entitled to health care.

All the health professionals have been hyper helpful and hyper efficient. The only negative thing is the hyper amount of medicines the French doctors like to prescribe. They even prescribe paracetamol and plasters. You do sometimes wonder whether they have a vested interest in the drug companies. Who knows!

It's interesting though how the health system works here in France as compared to the UK and I'm sure they could both learn from each other.

In France doctors (think GP) appointments are not needed, you just turn up - never at lunch time though. Pharmacies are all privately owned and there is very little that is available in the supermarket apart from condoms, plasters and homeopathic medicines. District nurse practices are also privately run and owned. There is no such thing as a health visitor.

If you want to have your health care paid for by the state, then you must have a Carte Vitale (or a letter with your temporary social security number on it) and you must have a prescription to see various health professionals. So you can't just make an appointment with the district nurse without first getting an 'Ordonnance' (prescription) from the doctor.

It sounds complicated but like most things, once you've done it once, it all falls into place.

I must say though that I consider our family to be ultra, ultra healthy. We lived in Africa and Asia for 16 years and maybe visited the doctor once a year if he/she was lucky.

Here in France though, my goodness we practically live in the doctor's waiting room.

It's not because we are necessarily sicker than before but because there is less available without prescription and the kids must have a doctor's certificate for every club sport they participate in.

Douglas does tennis as an example and he can't enter a tournament unless his certificate says he is fit to play tennis AND to play in tennis tournaments. He couldn't play badminton though with that certificate.

I'm not slating the French health care system at all but think there may be a wee bit of room for improvement.....

So going back to my hospital stay.

I shared a room with an older lady who was not pleased to see me. She wanted the room all to herself. However when she realized that I was very polite, easy going, didn't snore and hardly spoke (could hardly understand a word she said because of the accent), then she seemed happier.

The nurses were efficient, friendly and all seemed to enjoy their jobs and I was chuffed when they felt my french was good enough to always speak and explain things to me in French.

The hospital food however I must say was a bit hmmmmm. Now I'm not fussy but I did detect that the soup was always the day's before leftovers mashed up and I NEVER got offered wine. I was so looking forward to that.

My older room mate was also not so impressed and i would laugh listening to her phone conversations (of which there were many) in that ten percent of the call was about her and ninety percent was about the 'Menu du Jour'.

So with Christmas just around the corner, I hope our visits to the doctor are over for the year. Well they'd better be as our doctor is away over the festive period and if you visit a doctor who is not your designated doctor, then all sorts of complications arrive.

PS....Drum Roll Please!.A celebratory drink is in order as I've just this morning received a letter which marks the final stage of the Carte Vitale process. It's been a long, yes very long process.

I'm to send a photo and some id and then I'll get my card. Now that will be a great Christmas treat. It's taken one full year to get to this stage and it's certainly worth celebrating.

And I think I might get sick just so as I can use my card....now how sick is that!

So on that note, I wish you all (or those one or two that read this blog) a very HAPPY CHRISTMAS and a HEALTHY NEW YEAR.

Next Time: How Do We earn a Living?

The Good Life...But Is It Really?

We've been here just over a year now and the two questions people ask us when they meet us for the first time are:

"Why did you choose Limoux"? followed closely by

"Well you've been here a year now so you must feel settled. Don't you"?

The first question is easy to answer. The second not so. It's like a year is the magic number. 'Live here a year then you'll be fine'.

We arrived here at the end of August 2008 and so 14 months down the line everyone wants us to say "Yes we are totally settled". But then when we actually say "Well things aren't exactly as we imagined....."

You can see some people are disappointed when we say that and you can see the look of pity and 'Oh dear' seeping from their silent thoughts. Others are secretly happy that we feel like they did at this point in time and are relieved to know that maybe it is OK to feel unsettled after a year.

Don't get me wrong, in that, I don't feel unhappy, or that we made the wrong decision or that French life is not what I thought it would be. It's more that settling into a new place, let alone a new country where the language is rather alien is a long and sometimes frustrating process.

We've lived in 6 different countries throughout Africa and Asia in the past 17 years so I know how long it takes to get settled. Moving to France though was the hardest!

I think it's because for the first time we are living in a house we own, we therefore have more bills to sort out, decorating to do, the garden to plant and look after, organizations to join and we are sort of the odd ones out.

Before we were one expatriate family amongst many, and there were lots of new faces arriving together so we all looked out for one another. Here you are a bit on your own at times and when you have difficulty making yourself understood, then the settling in takes on a whole new perspective.

On the ultra positive side though, the kids are 100% settled at school, we own our house and just love pottering and DIY'ing, we have neighbours that stay put and we can throw away all those boxes and packing paper that I have stored for 17 years in preparation for our next move.

We've got a whole new menu at dinner time, the dog is bilingual, our neighbours offer us honey from their bees or fruit from their garden and we never have to go on a waiting list to see a doctor - except for the optician who never seems to have a free slot.

Through this blog, I have heard from many people who have moved to France or are thinking of moving. Many have sent me messages and others I have met for coffee in Limoux town square and I have really enjoyed telling people how we are getting on and settling in. I really don't mind telling things as they really are and I think it gives a real perspective to other thinking of making the move.

Uprooting and moving away from what is familiar and comfortable to you is a huge undertaking. It is exciting but challenging and at times frightening and frustrating. However if you can get over the humps and bumps, and it is something that you really want to do, then life will eventually become easy and fun.

I have learned it may take a year, maybe even 2 or more. But that is OK.

Time to stop rambling and to get in the garden and take the dog for a walk through the vineyard. Maybe meet a neighbour on the way and have a chat about the weather (which is 28C and blue skied and sunny today :)) and then cook moules marinieres for dinner......ah the good life!

Next Time: I'm having a knee op next month. Do they really give enemas as the cure all for everything and will I get wine with hospital dinners?

La Rentree

Hey ho hey ho, it's back to school we go. Yes we have just experienced 'La Rentree'. We have experienced it before (many times) but La Rentree in France itself is different.

To you and me, La Rentree is the same as 'Back to School'. A very welcome day for parents and a day of excitement and nervousness for the kids.

However in France it seems like an opportunity for the shops and business's to tempt us shopping. As if the long summer holiday hadn't already cost us enough.

The amount of adverts and leaflets we have received saying 'It's La Rentree - why not buy a washing machine....invest in a new car....get 10% off your insurance' and so on.

What has that got to do with going back to school?

I suppose you may need a washing machine to wash piles of dirty school clothes and a car to get the kids there and back and then insurance for when your child accidently breaks a dinner plate.....there is obviously a logic in it somewhere.

Our 3 kids were pretty excited to go back - not that they would admit it.

School uniforms don't exist so Ellie meticulously planned her 'outfit' weeks beforehand. The boys just wore whatever was on the top of their clothes pile. That means they will probably wear the same 2 t-shirts and trousers all year. Wear one, Wash one. Saves us a lot of money!

They all go to different schools so getting them all out the door and onto various buses or scooters starts at 6am and finishes just before 8am. That's the least fun bit.

Then there are the school bags.

The kids are expected to carry their books for the day on their backs all day and that includes snack time, lunch time and every other time. Not such a problem.....except their bags regularly weight at least 8-10kg.

Lockers are provided in some schools but there are never enough. There are some girls though who somehow manage to carry just a handbag (much to Douglas's horror - he's 13) containing nothing but a pen and still manage to get through the lesson. We still haven't worked out what their secret is.

School days are long. For the younger ones it is usually 8am until 4.30pm but the day extends as you get older. Sam our eldest has lessons 8am - 6pm with an hour of travelling each way on top.

However there are no lessons Wednesday afternoon so that is the time to do 'activities' of which there are a huge choice here ranging from martial arts to music and dance to crafty things.

In order to participate in anything remotely active, you must have a medical certificate saying you are fit. What a palaver as parents are queuing up at the doctors or just asking the doctor over the phone to prepare them a certificate.

The boys are doing swimming this term and much to their horror we had to do a trip to the sports shop to get them some of those oh so tight and weeny swimming shorts. Then there is the swimming hat. They are not too happy.

So we are now 2 weeks into the new school year. The kids have new friends, our washing machine and car are being put to good use and so far nobody has broken a dinner plate.

Next Time......A year since our move. Was it the right decision?

Building with Lego

We've been in our house 5 and half months now and as summer is approaching we decided "Hey let's build a pool".

Actually it wasn't a decision taken lightly but the salesman (who like any salesman knew how to convince us) persuaded us it was just like building with Lego.

Having brought our kids up on Lego, we are pretty expert by now so naturally we thought it would be a breeze.

So we signed on the bottom line.

Before we knew it, there were what seemed like a million bits of Lego piled high in our garage and we were wondering where to start.

Well after a lot of dithering and dissecting of the Lego manual, we are now at the stage when we have destroyed the garden and filled it with a huge 8x6 meter hole. Well a nice man called Mr Fernandez did it for us.

Guess what? The hole immediately filled up with water. Instant swimming pool, yeah! Job done.

Actually not so yeah when it wouldn't go away and the only solution was to dig further and to put in a so called 'French drain'.

So using our kids as child labour yet again (well they are happy as it helps them earn their summer pocket money) we dug and shoveled and sweated and swore (quietly) until we had what we hope is the drain of all drains.

So far so good.

Next job was slotting together the panels, which look like the sides of a tin can. That is where the similarity ends though as they weigh a ton. The manual writer who said they needed 2 people to slot them together, had obviously not built a pool like this before.

Anyway suffice to say, the tin can is taking shape nicely. The steps are in (precariously balanced on bricks for now), everything is measured and double measured (and triple) to make sure it is all horizontal and vertical down to the last millimeter and we are feeling pretty chuffed with ourselves.

By my calculations, it has taken us 10 days of labour to get to this point. We had a break recently as Bill was in Nigeria (not on holiday!).

We also had a few workers strikes and slackers.....but who can blame them.

More to Follow.......when the workers strike is over.....

No Ordinary Day

Today I received a lovely surprise in the way of an email from Bill. It contained an attachment of his account of a not so ordinary day in Limoux. I have been on at him for ages to write something and so now here it is.....

Tuesday, May 11th 2009.

A day like any other. It is term-time; Nicole and I are both at home. I finished my last assignment at the end of April and am scouting around for new work.

I start the day at 0610. Its getting light now and I make Nicole a cup of tea (he's such a good hubby - ed), make sure Sam is awake and do 20 minutes of exercises – my back is killing me after overdoing the strimming at the weekend.
I take Sam to the school bus for 7am for his trip to Carcassonne and then finish getting up while Nicole drops off Ellie and Douglas at their schools. We've invested in a 'scooter' for the older kids (and, incredibly, for our youngest when he turns 14 next year) but both of them have had minor accidents, skidding on gravel, so we are back in full chauffeur mode.

So the first task of the day is to ride the scooter down to the Peugeot dealer in town. It's a bit of a come-down since my big biking days, but still there is something exciting about being back on two-wheels. The handlebar has to be replaced; apparently a common problem when these bikes are dropped on their side. It's going to cost 117 € but it seems worth having the job done professionally; there's not much room for error on two wheels.

And then we set off for Carcassonne – to reclaim our repaired iron from Darty (it packed up after a couple of months of use) and to do battle with the Caisse d'Allocations Familiales (child benefit office) over our child allowance. First stop, CAF. It seemed rather unusual that all our contact so far had been by telephone, email and post – so we wondered if going in person might help to unblock the payments. No need. After about 20 seconds of waiting we were talking with a conseiller in front of a computer screen who instantly found all our records and informed us that our payments were on their way, back dated to the beginning of the year when I started paying my cotisations. What a result. Of course the money will be useful (especially as I don't yet know when my next job will be), but another sign of our inclusion and integration into the French administration is also very welcome.

Darty (think Dixons ) also goes smoothly. The iron returned and repaired within a matter of weeks (about 3 actually). Meanwhile we get a call from Sam saying that he wants to come home because it is not worth staying at school until 4pm for only one physics lesson. It doesn't seem much of a school day: one English lesson in the morning (where he is more of a resource person than a student), two hours of French cancelled (the teacher has gone for training) and Physics in the afternoon. It seems to happen too often – but at least it is not as bad as the universities which have been on strike for three months. Anyway, we agree to pick him up and take him home, partly because we are in town anyway, partly because his studies are going well and he is serious about them (generally speaking!).

It turns out to be a good decision. Arriving back at the house we find four trees lying in front of the garage door. We bought them ten days ago, to do something about the wind that blows if not constantly certainly regularly up the hillside from west. But their livraison seemed to be difficult for Jardifort. After a week I phoned to ask when they would be delivered and talked with someone who confessed to be so completely débordé (overwhelmed) that he could hardly take time to answer the phone let alone organise a delivery. I tried again yesterday and talked to someone else who said that they just couldn't even suggest when they might be able to deliver. So we were going to go in to see them on the way back from Carcassonne to cancel the order and ask for a repayment… Now Sam can help Dad dig them in. But lunch first…

Lunch was interrupted by a call from Senegal. A former colleague managing programmes for Save the Children in West Africa is looking for someone to help with the strategic positioning of their programme in Nigeria, where there are lots of opportunities to do good work but also lots of choices to make and risks to manage. Sounds right up my street. I hope it works out, but yesterday I also had an interview (by telephone) with UNDP and the Ministry of Planning and Investment in Lao PDR for a three month participatory planning consultancy which would also be very exciting and would mean I could consolidate some work I did there last year. Anyway, it is nice to be in demand. It is my first time in all my working life not to be employed by someone else. It takes a bit of getting used to: the void and uncertainty of not having work lined up and confirmed even over the next few months.

Although I do find it easy to fill the void!

This afternoon it is planting trees. Two of them (a silver birch and an acacia) are nearly four metres already. Instant gardening.

Sam and I work hard; the ground is hard and stony. We have to improve the soil, we have to stake the trees and we have to water them in. I surprise myself how much I look forward to rainy days (or preferably nights) – the water buts are almost empty and mains water is expensive. The gardening goes on into the evening, interrupted by supper and taking Sam to and then from the Aikido club. I hope that scooter comes back soon.

It is 9.30 pm and just light enough to take the dog for a walk around the fields and through the vines without a torch. She chases after the rabbits without success but with a lot of enthusiasm. By 10 o'clock everyone is ready for bed. It has been a busy day. Tomorrow will also be busy – but different. We have to draw the dimensions for the hole that the terrassier must dig for us to install the swimming pool. It's a big job – every time we read the manual we understand a bit more about the challenge ahead.

There are no ordinary days.

Bill

Healthy Reading

Having rarely visited the doctor since our time of living in Africa and Asia over the past 16 years, since living in France we are certainly making up for it.

When we were working in developing countries, our family rule was that we and the kids were "not allowed" to get sick. If we were, then out would come the self diagnosis books (think DIY healthy reading) and drug manuals and off we would go to the pharmacy if necessary. It is not as scary as it sounds as I 'used' to be a nurse and besides it was at times difficult to find the right doctor or the services that we needed.

Anyway roll the years forward to France and in our 8 short months here we have visited : various doctors, X-ray clinics, blood laboratory, specialists, physiotherapists, hospitals, pharmacies.....

I am ashamed to say that most of them are for me - the strong one in the family who is "never" sick. That does still hold true as most of it was for a skiing accident so I do feel that I am still holding my healthy record.

You know what they say about women in their 40's who hit the ski slopes during half term having not skied for years and who then cause mayhem on the piste? ....Yep that was me.

I was the one in the light blue jacket and purple hat who was rolly pollying past you at 100 kms an hour. OK 10km then.

However thinking about our health experiences here, we have been both delighted and frustrated. The delight comes in the efficiency of the health professionals and the health services and we have nothing but good things to say about them all.

Imagine going to visit your local doctor, being seen straight away (and with no appointment), getting a prescription for an x-ray and having that done straight away in the clinic up the road, receiving and having the results explained to you immediately, making an appointment with the specialist and being seen the next week at the time allocated (actually 2 minutes earlier) and then being offered surgery (if I want it!) for the following month. And so it goes on.

No waiting, excellent service and 10 out of 10 all round....except for the radiographer who made me have more x-rays than were prescribed and then charged me (a lot) for the pleasure.

Oh and the other interesting experience (again with the radiographer), was being sent into a cupboard with a man and being told to take all our clothes off (knickers allowed) and to stand there feeling naked and vulnerable until it was 'our turn'. Thankfully the other man was my husband otherwise it could have been interesting.

What I find interesting here in France is how the health professionals seem to work very much on their own in a private practice but who are reimbursed by the state. The local doctor is often a one-man band who answers the phone, sees the patients, does all the paperwork and who cleans up at the end of the day. It explains why it is near impossible to make an appointment over the phone - there's no one to answer it.

The same goes with the local physiotherapists and nurses who seem to be dotted everywhere. Just in our small town of Limoux which has a population of 10,000, we have 22 general doctors, 18 physiotherapists, 11 district nurses, 7 pharmacies, 7 ambulance taxis, 2 x-ray clinics, 1 laboratory plus more.

Are we a sick town or maybe the French just like to keep healthy?

So as you can see we are more than happy with the French health services but if we were to talk about French health care bureaucracy, well maybe a grumble or two is in order. Fill in this, fill out that, send it here, send it there.....and still we are only advancing one incy wincy step at a time.

Basically all we want is to be "IN" the French health care system. We are paying for it (heftily) and our sole aim right now is to get that 'Little Green Card'. The very coveted green card that says you are "IN".

The other day we made what we thought was a big advance when we received 'The Paper'. The magic paper with a big long number on it which is apparently the step before the card. Clap hands everyone.

However quite a few health professionals seem to turn their nose up at it and we get get the "Gives us the card or give us the money" treatment.

So as the money is being handed over left right and center I am beginning to wonder whether I should just go back to my DIY medical books.

In the meantime, other important things are beginning to sprout, such as the garden which has just gone wild. Bill is around for a few more weeks before he rushes off on an assignment so he is busy cutting, trimming, planting and watering. I get the grotty bits like weeding.

It all looks fabulous though and it's like discovering treasure each time something else appears.


Next Time: Working or Gardening - I can't decide. How about 'Working in the Garden' then?

New Year...New House...New Resolutions

Happy New Year 2009.
December 23rd 2008 was such an exciting day for us - we finally got the keys to our new 'home'.

Needless to say we are just like kids with a new toy. Bill and I continually find ourselves stopping in mid activity to say "We own this house"!

Although we have owned a house in the UK for the past 16 years it was never really 'home' as we didn't live in it - we lived in rented houses/apartments overseas in Asia and West Africa so this to us is very special.

Getting the keys was fun.

We, our estate agent and the vendors met up in the ever important notaires chambers and it was like walking back in time 100 years.

Imagine entering into an oak wood panelled room, faced with walls lined with files dating back to the early 19th century and succumbing to their faintly musty smell. Then sitting in ornate and delicately carved high backed wooden chairs in front of a huge leather topped solid wood partner desk whilst the notaire read out paper upon paper of house deeds and details which were all about us and our new home.

45 minutes later it was all done and we walked out into the sunshine with a big bunch of keys and a huge smile on our faces.

We were now home owners in the sunny South of France.

Sunny did I say?


The last time that snow settled in Limoux was in 1992. However that all changed on the day we decided to move house - Boxing day 2008.

"Yippee" said the kids, "What's this then" said the dog, "*#*@*!*" said the parents.

Our enormous hired Super U van did us proud as it slipped and slid its way up and down hills and slopes and into potholes and dips.

The award of the day though went to Bill who drove it in the most terrifying conditions.

We probably should have abandoned the move that day but you know when you have your heart set on doing something......

Andy and Erica, Bills parents were also with us during the move and we are extremely grateful to their dedicated lugging of bits and bobs and boxes - the quicker they did it the more cups of tea and Christmas cake they received.

We did hear the neighbours whispering something about 'parent labour'...

Three weeks have passed now and although we have unpacked what seems like mountains of boxes we seem to still have several more mountains to go. I do keep asking myself why on earth have we got so much "stuff" and it just goes from box to box to cupboard to shelf and back to box again, until I decide where to put it.

Bill would probably have a good solution.....needless to say I have hidden the bin bags.

As for the kids and Lily the dog, well they too have settled in brilliantly. They each have their own rooms (Lily has a corner) which I have promised not to interfere in (hard, so hard) and they now feel they can invite friends over. Trouble is if they do they are usually asked to carry boxes up and down to the garage and I think they might be expecting payment soon so we might be had up for 'child labour' too.

So the new year started with a new house and now I just need to think of my new year resolutions. I might start with "I must finish unpacking the boxes by Christmas" and "Give more of our 'stuff' to charity".



Next Time: Douglas has just turned 13 so we now have a household of 3 teenagers. What's it like living with teenagers in France?

Hey Ho Hey Ho It's Off To Work We Go....

Who would have thought that you need a degree just to go through the 'simple' process of setting up a business in France?

Much as we'd love to retire, the 3 kids, the dog, the mortgage and the fact that we aren't even at mid life crisis stage have told us otherwise. So we have spent the past month trying to tell the tax authorities "Hey we are here, we are working and we are ready to pay tax".

Simple? Non!

In the UK, you work, you earn, you fill in a tax from and you pay your taxes. Here it's like climbing a mountain, sliding back down and then doing it all over again....ten times. Not only that but the French have invented a whole new working language which goes something like this.

Visit to the Accountant. Discuss our business options - EI, AE, SARL, EURL and BNC. Glad we know the alphabet.

Register with URSSAF to obtain our SIRET from INSEE which includes our SIREN and our NIC. Choose our CAMPLP. Wait for letter from RSI in order to pay CSG-CRDS using an RIB. Wonder whether we should submit a DUE or BNP. Maybe we would if we knew what they were.

Need to still discuss with the accountant about CNAPVL and CNBF which is supposedly about retirement and CMU and ACCRE should the need arise - something to do with state aid.

And that's not even the half of it.

I must say though that everyone we have met from the accountant to the business advisor to the bank manager to the insurance companies have been nothing but ultra helpful. They too laugh at the ludicrousness of the bureaucracy and even admitted that they don't know what some of the 'Secret Codes' are.

So as of the 1st January 2009 we hope that we are in the system. We haven't yet decided which letters to go for but maybe MYOB would do for now.

Apart from trying to pay our taxes we have also been busy enjoying the Christmas preparations here in Limoux which are much more low key than back in England.

Peverse as it sounds, I kind of miss the manic frenzy of Christmas preparations and fraught parents and over indulged kids wherever you turn.

We have also been sampling the delights of the 'Foire au Gras' and the local fetes and fund raisers not to mention getting ready for Bill's parents arrival - our first visitors which will be very exciting.


And most exciting of all.....23rd December 2008 is the day we are signing the Acte de Vente. In other words we get the keys to our new house.

I do feel for the owners thought who failed to get their mortgage (he is self employed and French banks don't like to lend to non-salaried people - bizarre) so they are moving into rented accommodation. I hope it doesn't spoil their Christmas too much but then again at least they got a buyer for their house.

OK, BTW G2G and Merry Christmas To You All =]


Next Time: Winter in Limoux. Can we cope?

Lu et Approuvé

"Lu et Approuvé" for those who haven't a clue what I'm talking about means "Read and Approved".

As the weeks draw closer to exchanging the contract on our house (to be done in the official chamber of Monsieur Notaire - the paper signing that is) we have been popping in and out of the bank like Jacks in a Box trying to arrange our mortgage.

The story goes something like this:

Phone rings,
Called to the bank
Sign here "Lu et Approuvé"
Go home
Phone rings
Called to bank
Sign here "Lu et Approuvé" 3 times each
Phone rings
Go to bank
Sign here "Lu et Approuvé" 20 times each
Go home....mortgage offer arrives in the post.

Aha what does it say?

"Please read this carefully and then sign each page with Lu et Approuvé before returning it in the envelope provided".

So now we are thoroughly and truly "Lu'ed and Approuvéd" and feeling so smug as we now have our mortgage.

The date for completion is set for 15th December 2008 and that day just seems far to far away. Mind you in the past few weeks of waiting, we have not been idle.

We have already painted every room, laid out the furniture, measured up for the sofa and sofa bed, plotted where the pool might go, laid the patio, planted the tomatoes, lettuces and potatoes not to mention the mini orchard and started building the gite.

Of course that is all in our heads but so what, it feels real.

Now I know why kids play make believe so often - it's fun!

The other thing we have been doing (besides working, earning and being sensible parents) is initiating ourselves into the world of wine.

It had to happen I'm afraid.

Now we are both pretty allergic to the kind of people who invite you round to dinner and who spend the first half hour sniffing and commenting on the wine they are serving or worse, indiscreetly put your wine next to the oil and vinegar by the cooker. Or the friend (!) who comes round to dinner at your house and brings a bottle of wine for himself to drink at the table as he doesn't trust your choice of wine - it happened to us.

Now we definitely don't want to become like our dear friend however gone are the days when we can pop into Tesco's and just pick "Special offer" or "Half Price" labels. Instead we pop into LeClerc the supermarket and are literally surround by a million bottles and we just stagger about gripping our trolley and feeling dizzy with the choice and our ignorance.

So we have made the grown up decision that the time has come to become 'Un-ignorant'.

So back to our initiation.....

Four of us descended on one of the most famous wine caves here in Limoux, Sieur D'Arques. On arrival we were immediately led down some well worn ancient stone steps into the cold, dank bowels of the winery. Once inside our eyes gradually became accustomed to the eerie lighting to find a neat row of rather battered wooden school desks facing a teachers blackboard. Slight panic set in at this point. It was only when we spotted the neat rows of drinking glasses in all shapes and sizes and the line up of wine bottles did we relax.

And relax we certainly did.

Dominique our teacher for the afternoon did a superb job of teaching us to use our eyes, noses and tongues and to get us to drag from the depths of our lifelong memories all those smells and tastes that we never knew existed.

She didn't do so well though in teaching us to use the spittoon and when she wasn't looking us naughty school kids were gulping and giggling merrily behind our wooden desks.

By the end of the lesson however, we knew all about 'legs of wine', crescents and clarity, swirling and swishing and that the older you are the better you are at discerning the flavours of a wine - at least I now have one good reason to get older.

So although we are not evenly faintly or remotely near wine expert status, at least we can now open a bottle of wine and play "Guess the Flavour" or "Whose wine is it anyway"?

Anyone fancy coming for dinner? And please bring a bottle.

Next Time: Christmas is coming and the goose is getting fat....Actually I have no idea what to cook so any ideas are welcome.

Out and About in Limoux

So what is there to do in Limoux?


Every morning since we have been here in Limoux we have woken up to a view of bright blue skies.

We are now heading into mid October and we are just feeling so smug that we can still sit outside and eat our lunch in shorts and sunglasses.....and yes we do wear t-shirts as well. Wherever you stand in Limoux, you can see green hills,trees and clear skies. And it still continues to thrill us.

One reason why we picked Limoux is its location. It is far enough South to allow the BBQ to only have a short time in hibernation and yet we are less than a couple of hours drive from skiing in the Pyrenees or swimming in the Mediterranean (no-one ever told us how cold that sea is!). Only yesterday we were out and about mooching around the countryside in beautiful sunny clear skies and yet were able to see the fabulous snow topped Pyrenees in the distance. It can't get much better.

Limoux is situated in a valley with the Aude River running right through the center of town. That is a another treat that we love. You can walk from the town square to the river in minutes and then stroll for miles (must get into the habit of saying kilometers) along the river edge and see only the occasional lazy canoe meandering past or perhaps the silent and ever patient fisherman. Our dog Lily is in seventh heaven.

With a population of 10,000 and growing, Limoux is not your average sleepy French town. What happened to the mid day siesta and the sleepy mid day afternoon streets? - we were quite looking forward to that.

As in many French towns and villages, life centers around "La Place". A lot of the old architecture remains but the old buildings are very much lived in. Getting to the square involves mastering a labyrinth of narrow streets and lanes which I have failed to understand. Bill on the other hand seems to have a built-in radar and sat nav which gets him wherever he wants to go.


Just today being a Sunday we wandered into town as we had heard there was a small brocante sale on. We were expecting a few weathered looking Frenchmen manning a couple of trestle tables and selling the odd rusty chisel or war memorabilia but no the place was alive and buzzing.

In the square the cafe waiters were busy placing little white 'petit cafe' cups on the round chequered tables whilst kids peddled excitedly around the fountain and French fluffy dogs (all French seem to have one) bounced around greeting each other. Not forgetting the men wandering around grasping two heavy balls in their hands as they meandered off to enter the umpteenth boules competition that seems to take place every weekend.

Sunday is obviously the day to meet, greet and play.

In the afternoon we wandered down to the local tennis club and knocked about a bit on a choice of five fabulous tennis courts. There seem to be so many public facilities available here to encourage people to get out and about and to benefit from the French love of culture, patrimonie, music, sport....

In spite of our ever challenged french verbal skills we are 'muddling through'. Actually that is not so true as Bill deserves a medal for braving all sorts of verbal situations and for being happy to be thrown into the lions den. Whereas Moi - well I still go into paralytic spasms when the phone rings or if someone talks to me without having the decency to warn me that they are about to open their mouth.

As for things for the kids to do well there seems to be no shortage. Naturally things revolve round what is on their MP3 player or the computer but occasionally they surface and join in the fun of the town. There's a cinema, open air concerts plus there are clubs galore (more than fifty apparently) - including rugby, tennis, theatre, swimming, and even aikido. Our 3 have joined all of those and are also wanting piano and guitar lessons plus the trombone.

Bill and I are also about to join the Association de Villes de France whereby we can have French, Italian and Spanish lessons and go on all sorts of outings and tastings and even learn Salsa and belly dancing. Now that would be interesting...

As for meeting people. Well the plan was to integrate with our local French kinsmen as soon as we arrived here in Limoux.

We are trying but it doesn't seem as easy as we had hoped. I think you naturally gravitate towards what seems familiar and so we have met several English speaking families with whom we have eaten, drunk and been merry. French neighbours and acquaintances are polite and welcoming but I think they too are wary at this stage to invite us round for a hearty evening of chit chat and merriment. Little do they realise that a glass of Blanquette de Limoux will quickly sort that problem out.

Actually next week we are going on an "Initiation à la Dégustation" at one of the local Blanquette wineries but that will be a whole story on its own I am sure. We know nothing about sniffing and swilling and spitting but maybe that is all about to change......

So when people ask us why we picked Limoux you can see that for now we have no shortage of answers.

Next Time: Sniffing, Swilling and Spitting - the famous Blanquette de Limoux.

Limoux is Looming

Our family move to France is just around the corner.

We are just so excited. In less than 2 weeks we shall be winging our way on Ryanair (!) to Carcassonne and then picking up our hire car and heading off on our new journey and life in Limoux.

Everything is in place....sort of. I can't believe the number of hiccups we have had to get to this stage but either way we are still looking forward and treating each hiccup as just a simple detour to our plans.

Our UK house is now sold with the new owner in situ. We have a gite to rent for the first 2 weeks when we arrive in Limoux. We then have a tiny box of a house lined up as a long term rental. The kids are enrolled in their schools (3 schools for 3 kids) and our furniture plus dog are arriving a few days after we get there.

Our dog Lily will be a first time flier and she will be flying on her own and taking three different flights from Hanoi to Toulouse. Let's just hope Air France look after her well. I think the French love their dogs so she should be OK. She'll probably have been fed steak and frites...

Bill is still in Hanoi tying up lose ends and trying to get some consultancies set up for later in the year. Really he would love to retire and grow orchids but I think he will just have to do that in another life. I am back in the UK with the kids, tying up lose ends, popping back and forth to the bank, GP and dentist and above all obsessing over the euro-sterling exchange rate.

Now we have some money from the sale of our house, we need to convert it to euros so we can start house/land hunting in France. For weeks now we have been wathcing the exchange rates and just feeling rather flat and depressed, rather like the exchange rates themselves.

One night couple of weeks ago we decided we just couldn't keep putting it off as you could wait for ever and we didn't really know what we were waiting for. So we picked a day when things looked better than they had for a few weeks and then decided to take the plunge. We dithered a bit and then decided that that when the washing machine had finished that was when we would ring our currency dealer. Now that really is bizarre behaviour from 2 seemingly sensible adults but we needed someone to blame if we had picked the wrong date/time and neither of us wanted to blame each other.

So sorry Electrolux but it's your fault.

So the date is set for next Monday and now we know our budget and let's hope that we stick to it. Hmm.

Next installment: Settling in France. The ups (and maybe downs).

The Light At The End Of The Tunnel

Well our tenant has vacated!

Two days before the bailiff was due to turn up, our tenant decided to move out. It really must have been in the dead of night and by teleportation as we had various spies watching the property and no one saw him and his furniture leave.

Thankfully he didn't trash the place but did leave a huge brown patch in the middle of the lawn where some say he had a bonfire and others that it was his teleporting launch pad...

Anyway we are thrilled and so is our buyer. In fact she was so thrilled that she decided to metamorphosise from dear sweet old lady to the negotiator. We did sort of expect it but felt we might be able to negotiator a bit but she was having none of it.

Either we reduce the price by antoher 8% on top of the 5% that we had already given her or she wasn't going to buy. We felt totally in a corner and she knew it. We did feel it was a bit of a mean game especially when when she started her case with "I don't normally agree with people who try and reduce the price at the last minute BUT........"

At the end of the day though we just want to move on. There are others in much worse situations than us and at least we have a house to sell. So onwards and upwards from now on.

As for our family move to France, that has not been on the back burner by any means. We now have 2 out of 3 of our kids definitely enrolled in schools in Limoux. Sam our eldest wants to attend a Lyvee in Carcassonne as opposed to Limoux and so it is a bit more complicated. The forms are all filled out though and now we are just waiting for a response.

The other big issue is finding somewhere more permanent to live in Limoux. We have somewhere to live for the first 2 weeks but that runs out the day before school starts. I can imagine the kids ringing us up from the bus stop and saying "And do we have a home to go to mum?"

We can't believe how incredibly difficult it is to find a long term let in Limoux. We are not asking for much - 4 bedrooms, garage and small garden, full stop. That has just proved impossible so we are now down to 3 bedrooms, garage and patio. However that is also proving impossible. Anything that comes on the market that is vaguely possible is gone within the hour. There is definitely a market in and around Limoux for properties bigger than a 2 bedroom apartment - anyone looking for a business?

Luckily we have friends in Limoux who have been fantastic at visiting possible places and asking around for us - thanks Tricia and Chris!

Next time: Will we ever find a house to rent in Limoux?

Was Limoux as beautiful as we had remembered it?

Well we are back from our 10 day lurk in Limoux and what a trip. It seems the kids and the dog survived without us as did the grandparents to whom we are forever grateful.

So was Limoux as beautiful as we had remembered it and do we still want to move to France?........

We had only ever visited Limoux twice and that was 3 years ago and it was just for a pizza (!) and a walk along the banks of the River Aude. It was July and the sun was shining, the sky was a gorgeous blue and we were soaking up holiday heaven.

This time it was February, considered a cold, grey and boring month with the population still suffering from the after-effects of too much Christmas. Well those who 'consider' maybe got it wrong.

Our first encounter with a Limouxin (male Limoux resident as opposed to a female Limouxine) was as we were fumbling by the roadside in our little hired Renault trying to work out where our accommodation was located. A little tap at the window and there was this smiling, rather bulbous face talking in a strange language that was a bit of a shock to the system – was our rusty French really that bad? May he help us was what he was saying and although he couldn't (maybe he wasn't a real Limouxin after all), he paved the way to a non-stop line of helpful people.

We were warned about the French bureaucracy and the passing from pillar to post, the non stop forms and the need for insurmountable patience. Well we opened a bank account (2 actually), introduced ourselves in the Mairie, visited 3 schools, popped into and had meetings in the Conseil General and the Academy de Montpellier, visited a few (OK lots) of estate agents, organised a long term rental, visited house building companies and talked to builders and home owners and ….and not once did we get frustrated or feel overwhelmed by the French way of doing things. Admittedly that may change over time but what we did find was that if we were willing to try and speak French and to not expect to be treated as different to anyone else, then everyone we met was willing to help.

One very kind lady in the Conseil General told us specifically to contact her with 'any' difficulties as she knew what it was like to move to a new country and not know the system – she was Italian. Now how kind was that?!

We also met some incredibly kind and helpful foreign residents (thank you Jonathan, Angele, Trisha and Chris) who told us all the ins and outs and ups and downs – We owe you a drink or three.

One of our aims was to find a plot of land to build our house. The choice compared to the UK was incomparable. There were plots here, plots there and plots sprouting everywhere. Actually it seemed like everyone had gone plotty and it was a case of build, build, build. There were also in our opinion rather too many little boxes going up on these unappealing housing estates but another way of looking at it was that it was giving people the chance to get on the housing ladder.

So did we find our dream plot?.....

Yes we did - and it even had a little wooden house on it. Imagine a grassy field, slightly sloping with a wood behind and a field of sheep and donkeys grazing to one side. In front of you and a two minute stroll, the Aude River flows calmly and coolly diving into little secret bathing spots.

Two minutes in another direction and you can be canoeing, playing tennis or swimming in the enormous outdoor pool or maybe a few minutes further and you can be sitting in Limoux town square, sipping an espresso outside a café and watching the world go by. The air was fresh and the only sounds were that of the gentle brushing of the trees and the birds and in the distance, the faint sound of.....….clang, bang, clang.

It turns out that just behind the wood and over the hill (0.25km according to Google Earth) is a clay quarry. After a little bit of delving at the Mairie (town hall), we find out that the quarry has a 40 year lease on the land and is expanding in a big way and they do regular explosions. Bye, bye plot.

And yes the phrase "Location, Location, Location" really does stand true.

Oh well we shall just have to keep on looking when we arrive in August - one way ticket already booked!. If we were able to find our ideal plot in a week, just imagine what we will find in a month. Now both Bill and I are terrible (really terrible) at making decisions and the more plots we have to choose from the more we dither and procrastinate…….I can see trouble ahead.

So in answer to my first question about Limoux, yes we loved the place. We are one hundred percent certain that we have made the right decision in location.

Many people have asked us "Why Limoux?"

You know when you are house hunting and you walk into a particular house and it just feels right, well that sums up Limoux to us. It's our size town, beautiful views and weather, friendly people, lots going on, good transport, good schools and just has a very nice feel to it. Naturally I am sure that there are other places in France that would also fit the bill, but at the end of the day you have to pick one.

It is a town of 10,000 inhabitants and growing and there is an event or festival going on every month. Just perfect for 3 teenage children, 2 forty-something adults and a mad dog. The schools seem great and hugely welcoming and we took trillions (it's amazing what you can get on a digital camera) of photos to show the kids and the grandparents.

Even Lily the dog is going to enjoy it although she will miss the smells and rubbish of the Hanoi streets.

So what's next?......Packing and sorting and chucking sixteen years of expat 'stuff' and of course making lots of lists.

Also off to work on my learn french website. The Limouxins have a very pronounced nasal accent which I need to master....

Next Time: Organising a long term rental, registering at schools and transporting a dog.