FRENCH HEALTH CARE, SOME SILLY STUFF, AND IRAN: #25

FRENCH HEALTH CARE

Even though United Health Care sits at the top of the charts when it comes to denying coverage, and even though those denials have most likely caused many avoidable deaths, those denials are no excuse for murder. It's easy to believe that a denial of service led to the murder recently of United Health Care's CEO because for-profit healthcare in this day and age is an abomination, plain and simple. The data on both the ridiculous costs and the poor outcomes of the American for-profit system are clear and compelling.

Around the world, the United States ranks 48th in life expectancy. France is 13th. Of the world's 38 high income countries, the US has the highest infant mortality rate and the highest maternal mortality rate, averaging about three times higher. That's a disgrace. And yet the US spends nearly twice as much per capita for healthcare than France.

So Americans are dumping profit into a healthcare system that provides lousy outcomes while single-payer systems clearly supply the best bang for the buck. That's not to say that there aren't problems with single-payer systems, though. And the problems take two primary forms, funding and regional disparities in the availability of services.

Funding a single-payer system, if the single payer is the government, means taxes. And we are in a world in which rich folks are spending a lot of money, time, and effort to convince poor folks that they - the rich folks - are being taxed too much. So, incrementally, countries like France with vibrant single-payer systems are falling farther and farther into debt. We just have to look across the Channel to see a country whose single-payer healthcare system is almost completely broken, a country in which Thatcher joined Reagan years ago in making government itself villainous. That populist proposition, in France at least, is joined by a leftist philosophy that rejects any cuts in government services of any type while not having the balls to push for the taxes necessary to completely pay for those services. The result in France is a system that's still working quite well but that is in debt, limping along, waiting for the debt shoe to drop.

Two things have to be said. First of all, I'm an American expat with  limited understanding of the long term history of the various political movements in France and a limited familiarity of the thinking of the folks in Paris that shape policy. I'm just sticking my two cents in and my two cents is worth exactly that, two cents. This is simply the way that the situation looks to me today. And secondly, I report that the French system has never failed us. We see specialists when we must, we have scheduled medical procedures when needed in a timely fashion, and throughout we have been treated with comity and respect. We just have the weird habit of being concerned about the future.

About those taxes. The French pay just under 10% of their salary, capital gains, and most other forms of income to the government as what are called their social charges. Employers contribute as well. Public pensions, like Social Security Retirement, are not taxable. In return, the system pays about 70% of all medical and drug bills. And costs are strictly controlled. Our GP charges the mandated 30€ for each of our several annual wellness visits, less than our copay with insurance in the USofA. We get all but about 2€ back from the public system and from our supplemental insurance for each visit. The supplemental insurance is purchased from a for-profit insurance company, costs us under 2000€ annually, and covers most of the costs that the government program does not. The full cost without any insurance at all for a routine surgery, like for cataracts, runs under 2000€. With our public and private insurances, I paid less than 100€ out of pocket for each eye. Cathey had two dental implants, for which coverage is not very comprehensive, and paid just over 1000€ total.

Over ten years ago, before I left the USofA, I paid $6,000 off the top of my paycheck annually to cover Cathey and was paid $6,000 less that I could have been to cover my employer's cost for insuring me. Do the math. $12,000 not counting out-of-pocket expenses, not an insignificant amount if you have a health problem that your insurance doesn't cover fully. In other words, your not being taxed anew. It's that the money you are paying for your health care is being put in a different pocket, a pocket that isn't worried about how much profit can be realized from your illness.

We're fortunate that we live in a rural region that's close to two small cities, Narbonne and Beziers, featuring not one or two but several hospitals and clinics. We have a wealth of choices. The farther into the hinterlands that you live, the fewer services that are readily available and the farther that you have to travel to get more specialized care. Services do tend to congregate in the cities. It makes sense that retirees often do, too.

That's all for now. Happy to take questions.

SILLINESS - IT'S BEEN AWHILE

There are times that I just can't help myself.

It takes a sloth one month to digest one leaf.

Chicle is a tree sap that is used in chewing gum. You guessed it. Chiclets. Not only can't the body break chicle down, but more recently, they have begun replacing chicle with stuff like synthetic polymers that the digestive tract can't handle either. Your Momma was smart when she told you not to swallow your gum. It's almost certainly gonna come out the other end, whether you realize it or not.

Moving to a different vital bodily function, breathing, did you know that trees produce less than half of Earth's oxygen? Phytoplankton is your friend. Don't plant a tree. Save the oceans.

Enough!

IRAN

If you haven't figured out that the war in the Middle East is Israel versus Iran, you haven't figured out the war in the Middle East. Because of Iran, the government of Lebanon has lost control of its southern half. Because of Iran, the Houthis destabilizing Yemen fire missiles at Saudi Arabia, the UAE, and shipping in the Gulf. And Iran and Putin are apparently the last remaining friends of Assad, that beacon of democracy in Syria, and Iran has just decided to skedaddle. EDIT And as I was writing this, Assad skedaddled too.

Many blame Israel for growing instability in the Middle East. And of course, Western meddling is a convenient bogeyman around the world for folks with grievances to air. But if there is one simple way to bring peace to the Middle East, that is to topple the mullahs in Iran and end that country's sponsorship of terrorism in the region. There was a time when the United States would have tried to do that through covert action by the CIA. It was wrong then and would be wrong now. But that doesn't mean that we should not encourage at every opportunity any movement in Iran that encourages Iranian women to live freely as equals with Iranian men and encourage those Iranian men to dance with their women friends and partners in the streets.

LEAVING THE UNITED STATES: THREE REASONS

We sold our house in Pennsylvania and moved to a small village in the rural south of France a little over ten years ago. We haven't regretted that decision for one moment. It's been five years since we were last in the United States and we don't anticipate returning, even for a visit, any time soon. I've been writing a blog since before we accomplished the move. Poke around in it. www.southfranceamerican.com

Here, I'm going to discuss the primary reasons that we decided to establish residence outside the United States and why we continue to believe that the decision to do so was a correct one. But I'm warning you. American politics was not one of the reasons that we left, although the politics of such topics as health and healthcare did play a role. And yes, Bush the Younger was President at the time of our decision, so one could imagine fleeing his goofy act. But no, we chose as we did for personal reasons that trump elections. (Gives you pause, all of a sudden seeing that word, doesn't it? First and last time.)

TRAVEL IN EUROPE

What did we want to do when we retired? Travel. Where did we want to travel? Europe. Why not live there? Simple as that. Really. Simple as that.

We've been to the Roman baths in Bath, England. We've seen parmigiano reggiano cheese production in Parma, Italy. For our 50th anniversary, we saw Tosca performed at the Opera Bastille in Paris. We've shopped a couple of times a year in Spain, sampled the fascinating assortment of pintxos in San Sebastian, and visited the Guggenheim in Bilbao. We traced Cathey's family back into the 15th Century in an archive in Switzerland, a seven-hour car ride away. Seven hours on a train gets me to a friend's place in Germany.  And did I mention that the clean sand, clean water beaches of the Mediterranean begin less than 25 miles away from where we live? Get the picture? Retired. Traveling in Europe.

Politics? I suppose that you can say so. We admit to being Eurocentric. We've studied Romance languages in school, visited museums displaying European cultural relics and art, listened to European music that's considered classical. At our age, we'd rather dig deeper into what was in our air growing up than try to inhabit a new cultural space. We have plenty to keep us busy right here in our old neighborhood.

WEATHER

Simultaneous with the decision to concentrate our search for a retirement destination in Europe, Cathey set one of her foot-down conditions, a primary condition. "I will never shovel snow again." If it's going to be Europe, that limits the geography. As I write this, Thanksgiving is just a few days away. As I write this, friends in Cologne, Germany are reporting snow. Cologne's latitude runs through Alaska. As I write this, friends in Paris report snow. A little early, but not unexpected. After all, North Dakota shares its latitude with Paris.

Researching for moderate climates, we centered our search on the Mediterranean Coast, not because we are beach people but because the sea moderates both summer and winter weather. There's lots of pretty country in that European strip of land up against the Med, and not all of it is super expensive. We found a nice pocket in the rural southwest of France, in Occitanie. Hot summers, but manageable with judicious use of the heat pump. Temps touch freezing a night or two in winter. The fireplace place makes it cozy. No snow shoveling.

COST OF LIVING

It may seem counter intuitive to some, but a couple with average Social Security Retirement checks can live quite comfortably in our neck of France. Of course, having additional pension income or regular income from an annuity or other investments makes life more comfortable. And having the equity in hand to purchase a suitable place to live is important. As an American, you can't just walk into a French bank and get a mortgage. But if you figure out your housing at a reasonable cost, the rest comes fairly easily.

We eat foods that are in season and locally produced, not a hardship since growing seasons are long around the Med, including in nearby North Africa just a ferry ride away. And the food is grown for flavor. I don't know if we serve the best carrots that you've ever tasted, but we have had visitors who have said so. If you're an omnivore like me, in addition to veggies that taste like veggies, look for a village butcher who locally sources his meats. But beware the beef. Local beef is often grass fed and chewy, nearly game meat. 

Electricity can be expensive, sufficiently so that heat pumps are ubiquitous and it's not uncommon to see private/communal solar panels/farms. Healthcare is among the best in the world and the French single-payer system is affordable and responsive. The French spend about half as much as Americans do per capita for health care, and they live longer. It's nice not feeling as though you are profit point in a health plan's spreadsheet. 

When you add it all up including internet/phones (one-third of what I paid in the USofA before we left ten years ago) and taxes and water/sewer and gas/diesel and wine/spirits and restaurants and such, a pleasant and comfortable existence is easily doable with those two average Social Security checks that I mentioned.

YOUR EXPERIENCE MAY DIFFER

There are plenty of places in the world that provide even more affordable options for retirement living. If I read the current buzz correctly, Central and South America have replaced Mexico as the flavor of the month. And they probably are less expensive. But after research, expense became a secondary consideration for us. We knew that we could find a place that we could afford to buy where we wanted to live. And that's the point. We weren't running away from American politics. We were running towards a pleasant, adventurous retirement. 

If you are going to live in Europe, best learn the language in the country of your choice and learn it well. While it's true that just about everyone in Europe understands some basic English, requiring them to speak your language in their country does not build community. And rural life in general is not for everyone. Not exactly a hotbed for Uber Eats. Rural folks in France are nice folks, don't get me wrong. but they are not American folks. Be prepared. Businesses close on odd days and at odd times for a variety of unexpected and unforeseen reasons. You have to learn the customs. 

Renting for the long term before you buy is good advice, both in terms of France in general and your permanent landing spot in particular. We have a large house in the center of a very old town - small terrace, no garden, no garage, no pool. For each of those amenities, there's an extra few tens of thousands to pay. You have to decide what's important to you and what will be important to you ten years or more from now when the stairs are harder to climb and the garden threatens to get out of hand. All that I can do is repeat, we have not regretted our decision to move to France for one single minute.

ELECTION OF 2024: WHAT AMERICA HAS BECOME

If I have been stupid enough to publish occasional social commentary in the past, I surely cannot ignore the recent 2024 Presidential election in the USofA. I refuse to pretend that I have a complete handle on just what the hell is going on in the country of my birth. But I have a few ideas.

* A majority of the voting citizenry of the USofA chose a lying, narcissistic, sexual predator to be the face of their nation. They chose a serial evader of the consequences of his acts to be their Chief Executive. The bankrupter of a casino will lead the American economy. A man who routinely insults the military will be their Commander in Chief. In general, these attributes were not hidden from his supporters. Character didn't matter to them. This is what America has become.

* Obama's election normalized hate. Hate is a stronger emotion in the voting booth than love. 

* Democrats have chosen to take up the causes of marginalized people. I'm not saying that's wrong, but it's a lousy electoral strategy. By definition, marginalized people do not constitute a majority. You can argue that, taken together, they do add up to a majority. The problem with that thinking is that marginalized groups have different, sometimes conflicting concerns. Being pulled in different directions does not lead to coherent electoral strategy. To address that array of concerns, you first have to get elected. And bumper stickers, not manifestos, get you elected. Snow White was a white woman who lived with seven little white men. She was kissed without her consent by a white Prince. Deal with it. Don't make it a campaign issue.

* Progressives want Democrats to double down on the Progressive agenda. But Red states are not Red because Democrats are not sufficiently woke. I fear that the opposite is true. AOC demonstrated her chops by moving to the center early, even if ever so slightly. (Did I really say that?) By the demographics, Democrats have become the party of the elites. And the concerns of people with resources sufficient so that they don't have to worry about the next rent payment or where the next meal is coming from are not the concerns of a majority of the country. It's the economy stupid.

I believe that the Western European model of democratic socialism is the proper governance model for a modern, enlightened state. I also believe that the proper economic model for such a state is properly regulated capitalism. Those two statements are not oxymoronic. Renault-Nissan is the largest automaker in the world, they make excellent cars, and it's 15% owned by the French government. That's a big enough stake to make certain that the corporate types don't screw up. The French, German and Spanish governments combined own just over 25% of Airbus and Airbus is kicking Boeing's butt. So capitalism is alive and functioning reasonably well in Western Europe. But at the same time, Europe has embraced single-payer healthcare and strong quality-of-life guarantees for workers. After 10 years and multiple hospital procedures, both day surgeries and overnights, my wife and I are convinced that French healthcare workers, first and foremost, care about helping us. We are not treated as profit points by anyone in the system.

If that's the type of system that we want for Americans, we need to be as dedicated to a long-term strategy as Republicans have been. We need to vote in every election, from local school boards on up. We need to require schools to teach basics first. When I give the clerk at the counter $1.01 for a $.51 order, there should be no head scratching about the amount of change that I'm due. Critical thinking does not seem to follow if you can't read, rite, and do rithmatic. Our elected officials, whether in the minority or the majority, must be even more ruthless than the Republicans have been since Obama was first elected, ruthless against the opposition, ruthless against distractions within our own party.

ISTANBUL: RANDOM PICTURES FROM AN AWE-INSPIRING VACATION

It's been several weeks since I've posted. I'd been intending to post no less often than every two weeks, and I'd pretty much gotten into a groove. But then came the hustle and bustle of preparing for our trip to Istanbul, and then actually spending almost a week there, and then decompressing in Quarante. Deep breath. I'm back.

I will post a bit of a travelogue in a week or two. Nothing very daring or exotic. Just five nights within 100 meters of the Blue Mosque in view out of one window and Hagea Sofia out of another. 

TWO MORE RESTAURANTS: GUINGUETTE LA BARRAQUITA AND CHEZ SIMONE

With Cathey's sister visiting, we've been traveling around the region, finding new places to eat. These next two restaurants are quite different from one another. In the woods along the Orb River, you'll find the Guinguette La Barraquita, next to a canoe rental and campground, as rural as it gets. On the other hand, Chez Simone sits at the end of a strip of restaurants that face the promenade along the beach in Collioure, one of the busiest tourist destinations in our region. Different locales. Different menus. But that's what makes the world go round.

GUINGUETTE LA BARRAQUITA

If you've been following along, you know that many guinguettes are temporary, seasonal. Such is the case with La Barraquita. They close for the season at the end of September. By then, the campground for kids next door will have closed down too. Perhaps the canoe rental will stay open. I wouldn't know. What I do know is that when the weather cooperates, the wide open terrace under the trees is a pleasant place to enjoy ice cream on a warm summer day. We did just that and we decided to come back in a few weeks for lunch. Unfortunately, on the day that we did return in early September, the wind came up and that terrace got uncomfortable. Not their fault. But it did cut into our enjoyment. That having been said, my guess is that we'll go back next year.

We started out with little slices of what the girls thought might be a sort of falafel made of chickpea flour. Maybe. Usually, between them, Cathey and Connie can take a bite of something and darn near create a complete ingredient list. Interesting that this one kinda stumped them. We skipped starters and went straight to the mains. Connie tried the fresh trout with aioli, side veggies, a little salad, and fries. Cathey had a huge portion of lasagna, the special of the day. Half of it came home with us. And I had 5A andouillette with creamy mustard sauce and the same sides as Connie. (For those unfamiliar, andouillette is one step above tripe, offal in a skin. 5A is the highest grade. I try andouillette once every couple of years just to confirm that I really don't like it very much.) Wine with the meal. Coffee at the end. Not expensive, not cheap.

This next part of this review is a bit tricky. The wind was such that we really were not very comfortable. Our server, attentive and concerned, offered us a change of table that might have been a bit more sheltered. On such an open terrace and in such a breeze, there didn't seem much point. How do you rate the food in such a circumstance? I'm tempted to say that all was as it should be, and it probably was, but we'll return in better weather next year to make certain. That should tell you something. We'll return. Here are some pictures. Note the chow hound. Hungry but respectful.

CHEZ SIMONE

Many years ago, we drove to Collioure. More accurately, we drove through Collioure and left without stopping. We made the mistake of arriving in the midst of the tourist season. No parking. Well, we could have parked two miles away from the shopping and restaurants and beach, but we decided not to. And we never returned. Recently, friends told us about taking the train, an hour's ride, a short walk to the center of town, and not too expensive if you catch a sale. (The French rail lines occasionally hold sales that take prices down to as low as 1€ apiece.) We decided to try it with a few friends. We're glad that we did.

One of those marvelous French beach towns, Collioure lies close to the Spanish border, so there is a touch of Catalan about the place. And the shopping isn't highest end, but it's not schlock either. But the featured attraction, for me at least, are the anchovies. Renowned for a couple of major purveyors who package and sell anchovies in every style imaginable, it's heaven for a guy like me who believes that a pizza isn't really a pizza unless it's topped with anchovies. And I don't need my anchovies on pizza. Just put 'em on a plate and give me a toothpick or a fork and I'm a happy camper. 

But I digress. Collioure. Beach town.

As is the case with most French towns on the Med, there's some sort of promenade along the water, be the water a beach or a marina. Collioure is no exception, with a broad walkway curving along the bay, a strip of restaurants with enclosed interiors up against the town wall on one side and shaded, open patios overlooking the beach on the other. The restaurant that I booked for our group of six, Chez Simone, was an exception to that rule with a rather small interior and only a couple of tables immediately out front. Be that as it may, we were pleasantly welcomed, attentively served, and thoroughly enjoyed our meal. Six of us. Six plates of tapas that came one at a time at a proper pace for us to pass one plate around before the next arrived. Plenty of food for everyone. Anchovies and charcuterie and Catalan potatoes and scallop sashimi and more. All well presented and well prepared. With a bottle of wine and other bits and bobs including a few coffees at the end, the tab came to less than 25€ per person. 

When we go back to Collioure, and we will, we'll probably try a different restaurant on general principles. But Chez Simone was a perfect introduction to culinary Collioure.

WHY I LOVE FRENCH DINING: TWO QUIRKY FRENCH RESTAURANTS

Praising French cuisine has become a cottage industry. Likewise, trashing French cuisine has become a cottage industry. Love it or hate it, but you have to have an opinion. I have an opinion: If you want to investigate well-prepared, well-presented, reasonably priced (usually) restaurant fare, you could hardly do better than to start your investigation in France.

We've had the opportunity to dine at Michelin Star restaurants serving multiple courses paired with appropriate wines and we've soaked down artisanal beers while eating burgers at our local bar. The sheer number of pleasant places to pass a leisurely two or three hours across a lunch or dinner table beggars the imagination. To flourish in such an environment, the food had better be fresh, should be as locally produced as possible, and must be reasonably priced for its slot in the restaurant pecking order.

During summer, we have a tendency to go casual. Perhaps a seasonal pop-up restaurant on the beach, perhaps a 'guinguette' or roadhouse, likely but not necessarily seasonal as well. Which leads us to today's scribbling, two quirky restaurants, one a neighborhood joint and one a pop-up on a river bank, that Michelin has passed by but that we have really enjoyed. 

GUINGUETTE ROQUEBRUN

The term guinguette comes from the name of a cheap green wine served at roadhouses in the small towns outside of Paris and other French cities in the 17th Century. Today, the makings of a seasonal guinguette are stored in warehouses or shipping containers in the winter, set up along rivers and in campgrounds in time for the summer crowds, and packed away again a few months later when the season is over. Today, you can bet that a successful guinguette doesn't sell cheap green wine. In fact, today many modern guiguettes have bottles of good, local wine to go with an interesting and varied dinner menu. Lunch is usually not so fancy, featuring the obligatory burgers and a couple of different salads. One of the better guiguettes in our region sits on the banks of the Orb River, calling itself simply the Guinguette Roquebron.

The picture that I took of Roquebrun that appears at the head of this post has not been altered in any way. I just walked over to the front of the guinguette at sunset, pointed my phone, and shot. In other words, Roquebrun is one of those French villages that looks exactly like the typical French village that you have pictured in your mind's eye. During COVID lock down, we took picnics by the riverside. When the nieces come visit, we take them to swim in the river. Last week, we had dinner there with friends.

I won't force your mouth to water by describing every dish. Check out the pictures. All properly prepared and portioned, presented at a leisurely pace by reasonably attentive servers, and thoroughly enjoyable. Every bite. Of our party of five, two had two starters and no main dish, one of us had a main dish but no starter, and two of us had both a starter and a main. Three desserts and two coffees. A bottle of white wine and a liter of house rosé. And the bill came to about $40 pp plus tip, which in France is just a few euros to show appreciation because servers are paid for their work and don't rely on tips. 

The Guinguette Roquebron closed on September 8th and will return next June. The good lord willing and the creek don't rise, we'll be back then.

Rump Steak with Garlic Butter, Fries and Salad

Slow-Cooked Lamb Shank with Polenta and Veg

Gazpacho

Ceviche

Lemon Cheese Cake

Au fil de l'air

Above the air. Over the air. Through the air. That's the translation of the name of a restaurant with small, simple interior and a nice-sized terrace with a great view of the Orb valley below. Maybe the name of the restaurant references that view. Maybe, it's a play on words on the town's name - Les Aires - and the fact that the restaurant and the Les Aires town hall share a parking lot. We'll have to ask. But that's just the name, never fully capitalized for those of you who have noticed. It's all about the food. And the food's good.

Each day, they post the lunch special on a Facebook page. 16€ plus wine. Three courses. We've been twice. For starters we had tomato and mozzarella slices with pesto the first time, Serrano ham and slices of sweet melon the next. In season, fresh, and nice little portions. For the mains, slow-cooked rabbit quarters the first time and aligot with grilled sausage the next. (For those who don't know aligot, it's from the hills of the Massif Central. Mostly potatoes and cheese with butter and garlic and such, you almost have to wind it up like pasta it's so cheesy, twirling it on your fork. Keeps those folks up north warm in the winter.) Again, good portions, well-prepared, and faithfully executed. Not farmhouse cooking. Country cooking. Finishes of fresh peaches in vanilla-flavored syrup and a layered raspberry pastry made for excellent, lunch-sized desserts. 

With the menu and wine, maybe 20€ per person. With an aperitif, wine, and coffee, 25€. 

Every town needs on of these, a place to spend an easy couple of hours over a good meal in a nice space and leave with your wallet relatively intact. If we lived closer, it'd be on the circuit. Well worth the drive.

Au fil de l'air prepares 20 servings of the posted menu, so get there early if that's what you want.

AUGUST IN THE SOUTH OF FRANCE: A PERSONAL SNAPSHOT

Cooler, fresher air began filtering in during the second half of August this year, surprisingly on schedule in this climate-changing world. Drought persists in our little corner of southwest France, though. We’ve had a bit of rain lately, and the local vignerons say that it came at just the right time. I’m happy for my neighbors, many of whom make their living in one way or another off the land. Still, the water table remains well below normal and mild restrictions apply. But we’re retired. When the sky is this particular shade of blue, when there’s no noise to be heard on our terrace except the calls of two or three species of birds that nest in our rooftops, when our Siamese cats pose among the summer flowers, my heart tells me that, when we decided to spend the rest of our days in a rural French village, we made the right choice.

Make no mistake. We’re American. No matter how well that we speak the language, the French know that we are Anglo. It’s uncanny. Wearing clothes that have all been purchased locally, walking into a shop that we’ve never visited before and without saying a word, we are greeted in English. We must all be wearing an invisible sign that only the French can see. It’s not a problem, though. Often, as we practice our French on shopkeepers and tradespeople, they practice their English on us. These sometimes comical, impromptu language lessons are usually good natured, though, improving the vocabulary and grammar of both parties.

I digress. Blue sky. Birds. Yes, and sometimes a neighbor's wailing toddler. Even that poor, unhappy child adds to the feel of the place. I don’t mean to romanticize our village. It’s not special. Maybe that’s its charm. It’s just a place off the main road, without anything to attract tourists, where people live and work and send their kids to school and get together several times a year to celebrate holidays with each other. Writers like me may make it seem like Paradise, but we still have to do the dishes and the laundry, run the vacuum, and pay the electric bill.

I’m willing to bet that there are no cold calls in Paradise.

 

But I digress. Blue sky. Birds. And it being mid August, one other set of sounds begins to creep into the mix. Tractors and harvesters and bouncing trailers, empty going in one direction, filled with grapes going in the other. The vendage, the grape harvest, begins. First the whites, then the reds. Signs all along the two-lane blacktops in the region warn us. We add an extra few minutes to every car trip to compensate for being stuck behind a slow mover. And because the weather is also good for bicyclists, and because folks from the north take the month of August off, as the French do, and caravan to the neighborhood, the simple act of going out shopping can turn into an obstacle course. I used to be frustrated, back when I was new to the region, newly retired, and in a hurry. Not any more. Once you settle into the pace of rural life in the south, you wonder why you were ever inclined to hurry anywhere for any reason. I have informed Cathey that if I ever fail to notice the beauty of Occitanie, even while driving, she should just shoot me.

Another digression. Can't be helped. Birds. The swifts have gone, continuing their epic, migratory loop. We celebrate their arrival every spring and wish them God speed every August. Eating machines with the zoomies, dive bombing and swooping in raucous packs, eating bushels of insects that would otherwise be eating us. And kestrels and house martins and hoopoes and pidgins perching on the gutters and pooping on the sidewalks below.

 

Once again, I have digressed. Blue sky. Birds. Sunlight that seems to emanate from the landscape rather than reflecting off it. The Impressionists lived here and painted here for a reason. I don’t paint, but I can understand why. It’s August in the south of France. Nothing quite like it.