Life in France

A little while ago I came across this one-liner on Facebook which I duly shared with my students: Grammar: the difference between knowing your shit and knowing you're shit. I thought this was a neat way to demonstrate to those learning the language of, albeit far removed from, Shakespeare how a simple apostrophe can dramatically change the meaning of something. It also helps demonstrate the flexibility of the noun "shit;" which in literal terms we know signifies excrement but here implies two polar states of enlightenment - first devout knowledge and then half-wittedness. While some might frown on me for teaching the youth of France English swear words it is worth considering how many everyday, anglophonic conversations might contain one of the following uses of the excremental word: To shit on someone from a great height To be full of shit To be in the shit To take someone’s shit To shit or get off the toilet To say "No shit" or "Are you shitting me?" To talk bullshit To talk shit When the shit hits the fan etc. [...]

It's approximately a year ago that I began a new diet and on this first anniversary I thought I'd share the results with you. So if you are fed up to the back teeth with the US election please read on... Some background first: I first put on flab in my mid-teens. My mother put this down to an excessive intake of fizzy drinks (sodas) and soon had me drinking 'diet' varieties; while these didn't make me lose weight one could argue that I didn't get any flabbier. By the time I reached University age I weighed-in at 58 kilos (9st 2lb in old money) and was selected to cox for the rowing team. But despite weighing the same as a super featherweight boxer - my physical appearance looked far from athletic - I was somehow skinny and flabby at the same time. How could this be? I was practising sports six days a week! My high consumption of beer seemed like the obvious culprit. Then I truly began to pile on the pounds when I graduated from University [...]

I was on France 3 TV the night before the Brexit vote. The main point I raise for British expats living and working in Europe is that without the four freedoms afforded by membership of the EU - most of us are going to be righteously stuffed if we attempt to carry on our lives abroad. Taking French nationality, I propose, may be the only solution. In case you're wondering what these four basic rights are: The free movement of goods. The free movement of services and freedom of establishment. The free movement of persons (and citizenship), including free movement of workers. The free movement of capital. At the moment the UKippers and Leavers are pretending that the UK can simply do away with half of number 2 and all of number 3 and carry on as before - reducing it down to two-and-a-half freedoms. Aside from it sounding less snappy - the implications are massive, and arguably all negative in their outlook. At the moment the EU are saying they won't be nasty about the settlement for the [...]

About five minutes into an under-8s rugby match I was refereeing last weekend one of the fresh-faced little "rugbymen" briefly interrupted proceedings with "I have a question." I obliged him with a moment's attention - did the penalty need explaining perhaps? "Are you Breton?" he quizzed. I'm sure Nigel Owens doesn't have to deal with these kind of left-field challenges, but seeing as we were pressed for time I simply smiled, said "No" and reminded him he should be standing 5 metres from the ball. That's what Nigel would do - I thought to myself. To be fair he won't be the last Francophone to comment on my strange pronunciation, but I was happy he'd picked me out as vaguely French rather than obviously foreign. That English accent is rather difficult to get rid of after all. Now entering my tenth year in France, I'm happy to report that I can express myself in almost any situation - with perhaps one exception. That is when faced with someone who presumes, because I speak with an accent, that I must [...]

If you've lived in France for any length of time you will be familiar with the frozen-foods store PICARD. If you've never heard of it - imagine something across between Marks and Spencer's and Iceland: rows of chest freezers brimming with top-quality, petrified nosh. To help customers identify what's in each freezer...

If my time as a freelancer in France has taught me anything - it's not to trust the French state when it comes to handling anything to do with, er, anything. This rule should be applied even when things appear to be going your way. Today, I'm faced with one of those situations which at first hand appears to be quite a stroke of luck: a 509 EURO tax rebate has magically appeared in my bank account! Now, if I had not been resident in France for as long as I have I'd already put on my dancing trousers and be planning on how to spend this sudden cash windfall, however, there are a few things to consider before ordering that new TV: I haven't paid any income tax for years (being below the threshold for a family of five) The taxman has rebated the money into an account that I haven't used since I was last self-employed under the EI (travailleur independent) statute. i.e. he shouldn't even know that the account exists! This has happened before and back [...]