Tales from the Terrace Anecdotes on my moving to France nearly 17 years ago.

In 2025 I will have been living in France for 17 years. Where has it gone and how has it been. Time to share the good the bad and the humourous tales.

It takes a certain kind of person with courage to move from England to France. Lock, stock and cat. To a one-horse town, which had lost it's horse. To a hill-top village of just 1,500 souls where she didn't know anyone to a rather shabby house, without a job yet confident that the universe would provide. After all my terrace did have the best view in the village facing south with a view of the Pyrenees. OK, I bought the view. But that was just the beginning.

I had persuaded a teacher friend of mine to come with me and share the driving and the fun......? Yes that is a question mark. Not long had we been on the train to go through 'le tunnel' there was a security announcement to get out of our cars, me with cat, friend looking anxious. A false alarm. So soon we were on our way. Fun and games going around Paris but arriving in Orleans we settled into the room 'avec' Cachou, the cat and all was well.

The next day we continued on our journey taking the route south over the amazing Millau bridge. I excitedly told my friend that we would have an amazing view. The Millau viaduct holds the world record for the tallest bridge, culminating at 343 metres (higher than the Eiffel Tower), 2460 metres long and touching the bottom of the Tarn Valley in only 9 places. Alas, all we saw was cloud. But continue we did in the pouring rain to Quarante. A cold empty house. All my worldly goods were on their way, that's another story. All we had with use were what we could get in the car. Spirits were a bit low, but the next day serendipity struck. More next time dear reader

Categories: : Things 'French.'