So long, farewell…

Hello from somewhere other than the French Alps. Above is a pic I took of my husband in March, unaware it would be our final day skiing in La Clusaz for the foreseeable future. And what an awesome day it was! Behind him is Mont Blanc, with a glorious sea of clouds between it and us.

Back in 2008, I started Le Francophoney to talk about the quirkier aspects of living in France. Alas, 2020 dropped the C-bomb (Covid-19), and double-whammied my family with terminal illness back in Aus.

I was incredibly lucky to get back to Melbourne in June with my husband Three flights were cancelled, all while trying to arrange an international move and sell a household of stuff and cars during France’s heavy lockdown). It was character building, and an utter relief to finally get home.

Melbourne, of course, has had an extended lockdown, so we’ve literally had two weeks without lockdown or quarantine since mid-March. But we made it home, unlike many other Aussies still stranded overseas.

No longer living in France, it seems like the right time to pull the plug on Le Francophoney. It must be one of the longest running blogs in the short history of blogging, and I hope anyone who has read it has enjoyed it over the years.

But I won’t leave without a few final comments on living in France, so here goes.

While we were in lockdown in France, I decided to check my French language skills with a national French test. This question came up:

It says the opening hours of this hairdresser are Tuesday to Friday, 10am-midday and 2pm-6pm, and then on Saturday between 10am-7pm. The multiple choice asks when can you go to hairdresser:
A. Sunday at 1pm
B. Thursday at 9am
C. Monday at 3pm
D. Wednesday at 4pm

Now in any other country, a hairdressing business probably has enough hair dressers to get a haircut at any of these times, but no, in France, it’s pretty standard that Sunday is out, and Monday is fair game too, with many businesses opening on Saturday and taking Sunday and Monday as their weekend.

In fact, if you’re working standard hours, the chances of getting your haircut any day but Saturday are pretty slim. Lunch break? Nope. Closed. A sneaky hour off work on Thursday morning for a 9am cut? Nope. Closed. And since many people don’t work on Wednesdays because they need to look after their kids since lots of schools don’t open on Wednesdays, your only option would be to take the kids with you to your hair appointment on Wednesday at 4pm — that’s presuming you can get an appointment at a hairdresser, since half the hairdressing staff are probably taking Wednesday off to look after their kids too.

Regardless of the quirky business hours in France (which are, in fact, totally understandable, given the strict employment laws for small businesses), I already miss the bakeries, the lifestyle, the language and, most of all, the mountains.

Meanwhile in Melbourne, I haven’t been able to get a haircut either. I’m wearing my overly long hair up in a nana bun for convenience, and now kind of wishing that I could walk in to Annie Coiffure this Wednesday at 4pm, even if it means bunking off work for a bit. Maybe in 2021?

When I started Le Francophoney, haircuts weren’t a concern; I had dreadlocks, which didn’t seem to bother the goats in La Clusaz.

Twelve years later, the dreadlocked girl who once felt like an outsider to the French way of life has said all she has to say about living in France, and hopes that you enjoyed the journey as much as she did.

Au revoir, and thanks for tuning in!