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.

FRENCH MORTGAGE, RAIN, AND BITS AND BOBS: #14

 

 

FRENCH MORTGAGE

Those of you who have been paying attention will know that it has been several months since I last wrote about our mortgage application. At that time, I wrote that we were at the finish line. 

We were not. 

Innumerable twists and turns ensued before the money finally came through. I simply could not keep up. Here are the highlights:

• First met with our banker during the first week of November. By the first week of December, we were told that our request for a loan had been approved. We closed on the new house on December 15th. The loan money arrived on August 2nd of the following year.
• First, the bank called it a mortgage, then a refinance, then a loan.
• First, the banker proposed a 10-year term with life insurance for me. Now it's a 7-year term with life insurance for both of us.
• First, I proposed that the bank finance 38% of the purchase price. The bank agreed to finance 27%.
  
• First did an online medical questionnaire in November. The website didn't like Cathey's phone number for the verification code. Mailed a signed hard copy witnessed by the banker. Then the bank decided in April that the medical questionnaires were too old and had to be resubmitted. Still didn't like Cathey's phone number but her sister's number worked just fine. She called us with the verification code.
• First the bank wanted us to open a 10,000€ savings account maintained to ensure payments. Settled for 25% less, money that we can't touch until the loan is paid off. 

Each of the changes required an exchange of emails and a personal meeting with the banker. I have counted 15 separate email threads.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY: The old adage is true. The best way to obtain a loan is to prove that you don't need it. For American citizens in France, the requirements go a bit further, including making the deal worth the effort for your bank to comply with American and European banking regulations. 

Regardless of the fact that we have submitted French tax returns, in addition to our American ones, for 15 years. Regardless of the fact that we have lived permanently in France for 8 years. And regardless of the fact that we have received our ten-year residency permits, one step below French citizenship, about three years ago. We are still Americans. We must learn patience with French bureaucracy. If you don't learn that patience, living in France won't be nearly as much fun.

RAIN

Did I read recently that the folks who built that ark in Kentucky (or someplace like Kentucky) are suing their insurance company? They want to be paid for water damage. To the ark that they built. From rain. Water damage.

 OPERA SURPRISE

The conductor has led the BBC Philharmonic Orchestra and conducted the Royal Ballet of Covent Garden Orchestra at the Met in New York. The soloists are among the best in France. And for 30€, we'll be attending their performance of Donzinetti's The Elixir of Love in a small theater in a small town a few minutes away. We had no idea when we moved to the rural, politically conservative, ancient region of France, a region that traces human history back to Neanderthals and beyond, that modern players would find venues for music from Bach to the blues anywhere and everywhere that an audience could be called together. What a gift!

 UPDATE: Attended the opera last night. Unfortunately, our heat wave hadn't broken. Fortunately, the venue's tiered seating afforded everyone a clear view of the performance. And the orchestra was tight and confident from the first notes of the overture. And the set was simple but enhanced with occasional, interesting projected animations. And the principal soloists were nationally recognized professionals. And the chorus displayed enthusiasm and discipline.

And I am so grateful to live here.

TRUMP 

There has to come a point of reckoning or else why do we pretend that there is such a thing as the rule of law? You simply can't take stuff out of the Oval Office and stick it in your closet at home if it is classified certain ways or if it belongs in the National Archives. The man overtly puts the Presidential Seal on everything in sight at his resorts and on his golf courses in clear contravention of the law. His other transgressions are so numerous as to defy comprehension by reasonable, rational people. There has to come a point of reckoning.

 

SouthFranceAmerican 4 - FOOD IN FRANCE

 A short video on food and food shopping in France.

MEDICARE LETTER TO AMERICAN EXPATS, JANUARY, 2019: WHAT TO DO

If you are an American living in France, and if your address with Social Security and Medicare is a French address, you may have recently received a letter advising you that you were going to be issued a new Medicare card. It seems they've decided that having our Social Security numbers on the cards was inappropriate, a potential breech of security. So new cards were being mailed.

Except, of course, new cards would not be mailed to addresses outside of the United States.

Never fear. If you have an account at MyMedicare.gov, you can print an official copy of your card and use it until you are in a position to obtain a new one. If you don't have an account, you can create one. There was another workaround, something about calling Medicare from a mobile phone from within the United States. But since we have no plans to go back to the States in the immediate future, my only ready option was to create that account on MyMedicare.gov.

Except, of course, that I wasn't allowed create an account. Error message. Why? I guessed that it was because off the foreign postal code. That guess turned out to be correct. How do I know? Because, believe it or not, MyMedicare.gov has a 24/7 Chat function. I waited less that a minute. Zach was very clear. That's right. You can't create an account with a foreign address attached. If you already have an account, you can access it from anywhere. But if your address with Social Security is foreign, you are out of luck.

I asked Zach to describe my Catch-22 plight to his supervisor. He said that he would. I asked how to make a formal complaint to Medicare. He advised me to call them directly: 1-800-MEDICARE. Guess what. Available 24/7.

I called. I explained my situation. The agent advised my that they were aware of the problem and were working on it. I asked what I should do in the interim. The answer? Identify yourself to me satisfactorily and I will send you a letter certifying that you are covered that you will receive in ten days. After four weeks, you'll get your new card in the mail.

Who knew that single-payer healthcare could be so efficient?

BAGELS, KARO SYRUP, MOLASSES, AND OTHER STUFF WE MISS IN FRANCE: JANUARY 2019

Three and a half years ago, an early blog post of mine listed American foods that I missed the most after I'd spent about 16 months living permanently here in the rural south of France. Then a week ago, after five years here, I began a post with a rant about the lack of readily available peanut butter. Both posts engendered a great deal of interest, particularly among my Facebook friends.

Within 24 hours of lamenting that the major supermarkets in the area had pulled less expensive, European produced peanut butter from the shelves in favor of more expensive, imported varieties, FB friends had pointed out such alternative possibilities as Super U, Lidl (during the upcoming American Week), and various stores, health food and otherwise. I'd been alerted against palm oil and artificial sweeteners. Folks were engaged. Not exactly viral, but clearly touching a common nerve. So I've decided to update that August, 2015 list with a new one.

What is it that still frustrates us after five years? What can Americans expect to either self-import or do without when they decamp from the USofA to Occitanie?

Well, when you talk to my wife Cathey, it's not just about the foods. It's about the ingredients, ingredients that are essential to her cooking, ingredients that may or may not be able to be hacked. I have therefore created four categories of Shopping for Americans Visiting Expats...SAVE. (With anticipated chapters throughout Europe.)

SAVE 4: NOT ANY MORE
The least important category to consider when shopping for a prospective visit to an American living in France, NOT ANY MORE items might once have been essential fillers of unused checked baggage space, but no longer. We can get that stuff now. Why? Maybe supply and demand. Maybe karma. But Reese's Peanut Butter Cups are readily available in any number of stores. Even the white chocolate variety. So are ziplock bags that actually ziplock and garbage bags that you can lift up without having the bottom of the bags split and spill leftover lentils all over your blue suede shoes. Brown sugar, not cane sugar, is in the "See It, Buy Five' category along with panko and potstickers, but the new Asian Market in Beziers may prove a dependable supplier of the latter two.

SAVE 3: HACKABLE
You guessed it. HACKABLES are hackable. Chocolate chips? Chop up chocolate. Jimmy Dean-style sausage patties for sausage gravy? The recipe (or a reasonable facsimile) is online and a trip to the butcher and to the pantry are all that's needed. SAVE 3 is not to be confused with the next category, SAVE 2: CLOSE but no cigar. CLOSE can never be confused with the real thing. HACKABLES are basically the real thing, just not packaged like the real thing. Need cornmeal? Polenta is boiled cornmeal. Grind down polenta and, while you haven't exactly unboiled it, it's still just cornmeal.

SAVE 2: CLOSE
So you want a Nathan's Hot Dog? They aren't sold here. Yeah, you can ship 'em, but you can ship anything. Assume that I'm not Jeff Bezos...before the divorce. Nathan's just aren't going to arrive in my mailbox. But there are all sorts of sausages, plain and smoked, that make for a near-dog experience. Of course, if you want a cheap, white bread, squishy bun to go with your dog-like sausage, FORGET IT (SAVE 1).  

How about cream cheese and lox on a bagel? I can get you close but I can't take you all the way there. The smoked fish here is just fine. Salmon or trout. Rough and salty or slick and subtle? Your choice. Cream cheese? You can actually buy Philadelphia Cream Cheese readily, but it ain't Philadelphia Cream Cheese. The formula has been changed. They do that to us in Europe now and again. They add sugar or otherwise 'adjust' for some reason and you are left disappointed. Try St. Môret. Comes in a tub, spreads nicely, and tastes more like Philadelphia Cream Cheese than the box that says Philadelphia Cream Cheese on the shelf next to it. Bagels? FORGET IT. There are rumors that bagels are to be had in some of France's larger cities. I have not been provided with an example to study and therefore cannot confirm. When it comes to bread, though, the French provide a wide array of options. (But none in the style of Wonder Bread.) Buy a fresh baked loaf or roll from your local baker, hold your noise, and pretend that there's a hole in the middle and that you bought it at 6h00 at the bakery in Brooklyn.

SAVE 1: FORGET IT
Golden syrup is not Karo syrup. It just isn't. And treacle isn't molasses. Garlic dill pickles out of the barrel? You can find jars of dill pickles, but they are not even CLOSE. There's no substitute for Hershey's Cocoa when you're baking a chocolate something, regardless of all of the great chocolate powders that sit on French shelves. Doughnuts are available, yes. But Krispy Kreme is in a category of its own and that category is not found in France.

Gebhart's Chili Powder? Old Bay Seasoning? These are ingredients that you may be able to approximate, but the result would be different, not CLOSE at all.

Did I mention squishy white bread? Right. I did.

What's on your list? What do your family and friends pack in their luggage when they come for a visit? What do you wish that they would?

TIPS NOT IN THE GUIDES FOR US EXPATS IN FRANCE

You're thinking of spending some time in France, either buying a holiday home or moving over full time. You've read a few books. You've bookmarked a few websites. You're proud of yourself. You are well prepared.

Not...

Important things, things that you need to know in order to live your life, do not appear in any guidebook. But saddle up, friends. I'm here to fill in the blanks.

1. They bake great bread here in France. Abundant variety. Baguettes warm every morning in every town. The breakfast croissants and pain au chocolat are buttery/flaky wonderful. Specialty loaves abound and each deserves serious consideration. But it's what you won't find that's frustrating. You won't find a decent bagel. You won't find even a half-decent bagel. (They say bagel bakeries have opened in Paris. I can offer no proof.) You won't find a properly cheap, squishy hot dog roll in which to put the Nathan's hot dog that you won't find here, either. So be prepared. Once your delight at all of the new breads that you have at your disposal has waned, you'll be left with a longing for that loaf of Wonder Bread that you thought that you could do without.

2. While we're on the subject of food, Americans can say good-bye to roast beef. French beef is not feed lot beef, at least not in the well-marbled, juicy, and tender sense to which Americans are accustomed. Chewy and not cut for roasting. Cooked hams for holidays? Nowhere to be found. Whole turkeys? Only for Christmas. Our Thanksgiving turkey has to be special ordered and costs the equivalent of $6.00 a pound or so. And not only is there no Wonder Bread, there's no bologna to fry either. Heinz yellow mustard? Yes. Bologna? No. But believe it or not, there are compensations. The lamb tastes like lamb should taste. The pork tastes like pork should taste. BACON! And there's duck confit, duck breast seared on the grill, and for those who can live with the backstories, foie gras from heaven and veal in all of its incarnations. Did I mention BACON!

3. OK. Enough about food. Lets talk about right angles. You know what right angles are. They are the angles at which walls meet other walls, floors, and ceilings. Except in France. Oh, I suppose that new builds are squared up. But who wants a new build in an historic village with a 1,000 year-old church? You want history. You want stone. And stone walls seldom meet tile floors at right angles. And stone walls bulge at such odd angles that putting up a shelf can be a real adventure. In fact, just drilling into a stone wall to set one hook to hang a picture can lead to disaster. So if you do buy a stone house, buy a really good drill with a percussion setting. If you don't know what that means, don't buy a stone house. If you do know what a percussion setting is, here's another tip. When you're drilling into that stone wall, through paint and plaster and God knows what else, start up your vacuum cleaner and hold the wand under the hole as you are drilling it. The vacuum will suck up the dust and you won't have a mess to clean up.

4. You can't buy aspirin the the supermarket in France. But you can get a prescription for aspirin and the French healthcare system will reimburse you. So see a doctor and get a prescription. I have. Even so, every time family comes to visit us from the States, I have them bring a big bottle of low-dose. We ask family to bring Lactaid, too. I once asked a pharmacist how the French deal with being lactose intolerant. She said,"They don't eat cheese." Word. Make a list of the OTC and prescription drugs that you require to get through the day, vitamins and supplements included, then find out if they are readily available, or available at all, before heading for this side of the Pond.

5. Quality clothing and shoes are expensive in France. Very expensive. While living in the States, I did most of my clothes shopping online on sites like LL Bean and Cabela's. So now, when I need jeans or mocs, I have them sent to a family member to bring over when they next visit. (Are you detecting the trend? Turn family members into shipping agents. There's a rationale that might just convince them. If they bring you stuff from the States in their luggage, they'll have room to take back presents when they head back home.) But there's also a French answer for the discerning shopper. Nationwide, pre-planned, deep discount sales. In 2017, winter clothing will go on sale from January 11 through February 21. No foolin'. It's on the national calendar. 30% - 50% discounts are the norm. 70% discounts are not uncommon as the sales wind down. Stores are not allowed to bring in stock specifically for the sales so you get the stuff that they normally keep in stock. (Wink, wink...) Summer sales run in June and July. That's when I buy $40 sandals for $18. And we all wear sandals here. Please, no socks...

6. Quick takes:

• Bring more than one pair of really good walking shoes. If you're not walking everywhere, whether in the cities or the countryside. you're not making the most of it. Great walking tours and walking trails everywhere. Take advantage.
• Sort out your electronics. Find out about SIM cards for your phone. Make certain that your chargers work on the more robust European voltage. And one size does not fit all. British plugs are different from French. Don't think you'll find adapters and chargers after you get here. You won't.
• Wine can cost anywhere from the equivalent of $1.50 to $100 a bottle and more. Forget the price. Try them all. Ask questions. Buy what you like best and can afford. We seldom pay more than $10 a bottle for wine to serve to company and we've had some true connoisseurs at our table, enjoying every sip.
• Oil changes for your car cost $80 or more. There are no discount, in-and-out, cheap alternatives. Do it yourself or pay the freight.

Finally, don't listen to advice. It's France. Experience it for yourself. There's no place quite like it.

(This post was published with some edits as a guest blog on the site www.renestance.com)

WHAT DO YOU MISS MOST ABOUT LIVING IN FRANCE?

The conversation is predictable. It begins when we say, "We live in France now."

Full time?

Yes.

Really? All the time?

Yes.

Why?

Well, during our active retirement years we wanted to visit friends in England and travel in Europe. Why not live here?

How did you pick France?

Long story. (Pour wine and tell story. It's HERE on the blog.)

Are you going to become French citizens?

No. Residents but not citizens.

Does it cost more than living in the States?

Not really. Depends on how you live. And the dollar is quite strong these days. Viva Brexit!

Do you speak the language?

Well enough to get by and we're getting better all the time.

And then, at some point during the conversation, "What do you miss most?"

The stock answer is, "We miss friends and family the most." But you can see the real answer for yourselves when you see the picture of what Cathey brought back from the States for me in her suitcase last week.

TRAVELING WITH OUR CATS TO FRANCE - DONE!

Veterinary examinations done. Paperwork done. Reservations made. All that's left is to make the trek.

Cathey and I had decided, both for our own sanity and that of the cats, to spend only one night in a hotel prior to boarding our flight for Europe. One night was the minimum given that we had to completely clean out the house before we left, mattresses and all. We'd given some thought to spending as much as a week in a hotel but decided that would be both excessively costly and excessively stressful both for us and for the cats. Camping out in a familiar place, even in a severely stripped down condition, made more sense.

The cats were a bit spooked by this time. In fact, the past few months had been quite stressful for them. They knew that something was up but they didn't know exactly what. Strange people marched in and out of the house. Furniture and furnishings disappeared at an alarming rate. And there were those frequent visits to the vet to consider. But to their credit, and perhaps to ours, our Siamese sisters didn't completely freak out. Instead of running and hiding, they clung closer and closer to us. They spent more time on my lap in those last couple of weeks than in the past couple of years.

So, on the day before our flight we watched as Dr. Clutter cleaned us out. Everything went - mattresses, box springs, sprung sofas and arm chairs, unwanted and unsaleable furniture, everything. We put the cats in their carriers, turned the key on our home of 30 years, and didn't look back. We picked up our renter - a minivan that was required due to our four full-sized suitcases, two carry on bags, and two carriers. We dropped off our cars (sold for just about their scrap value) and checked into the local Best Western, chosen because it was both close to our house and is one of the few in the Lehigh Valley that accepts pets.

On their new bed in their new
home, safe and sound

The cats checked out the room thoroughly, announced their relative displeasure, and slept tight up against us.

Our flight time was 12:50 PM, so given three hours to get to JFK (two on average but we figured a cushion) and given three hours to check in (two required but again, a cushion), we left the hotel - after a decent free breakfast - at 7:00 AM. Traffic was light so we made good time and the cats were no more upset than during the much shorter rides to the vet. We discovered, however, that if the two zipper pulls on Chloe's carrier were in just the right position, she could arch her back and pop the zipper open. No problem. Just set the zippers at the halfway point instead of all the way to one end or the other.

By the way, these are the carriers that we used. They worked well enough. Yes, we had the zipper problem. And yes, a determined cat could probably scratch through the mesh if left unattended. But all in all, we were satisfied..

At JFK, I paid a red cap way too much money to watch out for Cathey and the cats in the terminal while I returned the renter and took the tram back. After the usual long wait in line to get to the ticket counter, we discovered that the Turkish Air agent had been trained to check in cabin-riding pets but had never actually done so. She excused herself to go talk to her supervisor and, about a half-hour later, returned to tell us that we had too much luggage. Neither the website nor the reservation agents over the phone had been clear. I'd thought that we could bring both the pet carriers and our carry on bags into the cabin. Nope. We'd have to pay for the carry ons or put the pets in the hold. Pets in the hold was not an option. $320 later, we were set to go.

We made a mistake during the boarding of our flight to Istanbul. When we got to our seats, all the way in the back of the plane, window and aisle together, a mother and child were sitting in them. We showed them our tickets and they realized that they belonged in the center section. So they moved. As it turned out, one of the three seats in their section was empty. So they were able to stretch out and be comfy. We shoulda kept our mouths shut. But it worked out OK. The stewardesses and most of the passengers loved our cats. (One passenger was a grouch. "Are they good travelers," she asked dourly. "I don't know," I replied. "They never traveled before." Eyes rolled.) And the guy and his young daughter in the seats ahead of us probably made more noise than the cats. The cats themselves never got over-excited. All in all, a fairly normal overseas flight.

We deplaned last, found our way to a quiet corner of the international terminal, put on the girls' halters and leashes, and let them out under close supervision. They stuck together like glue after a quick leg stretch, had no interest in the bits of food and water that we offered, and settled down using Cathey's coat for a pillow. After a five hour wait, our flight from Istanbul to Marseilles was called. Unfortunately, no jet way. We had to take a bus and climb stairs into the cabin. Not fun with both the cats and our carry ons, but we managed.

At this point, Chloe had enough. She began rolling on her back and kicking at the carrier. Not yowling, mind you. But showing signs of panic. Shortly after takeoff we understood why. Her bladder just could not hold out any longer. So she peed...while Cathey was holding the carrier on her lap. Ugh. Not terrible UGH! But ugh just the same.

It's a short flight from Istanbul to Marseilles. We were again the last ones out. A jet way instead of a bus, thankfully. Another long line, this time at passport control. And all the while, we could smell Chloe's pee. Not UGH enough for anyone else to notice, but we could. Finally, we reached the guy in the passport control booth.

Our instructions when applying for our long-stay visa had been specific. Your passport must have two blank pages facing each other, one for the long-stay visa and one for your entry stamp. So we opened our passports to the visa page when we handed them over. The guy looked our passports over, flipped through pages, and stamped them somewhere in the back. Maybe it won't matter. (It didn't. More about the immigration form in a later post.)

We picked up a cart for our luggage, loaded up with the cats' carriers on the top, and headed for customs. Nothing to declare. Except cats. I had their paperwork out. You remember, the paperwork that cost us hundreds of dollars, a trip to Harrisburg, and several dozen gray hairs to obtain? The customs agents on duty just waved us through. I pointed to the cats. They smiled and waved us through. The folks who told us that they never had to show the paperwork were right. Would I fly without the proper paperwork? Never. But it is galling.

The ride to our house in Quarante was uneventful. The cats were more than pleased to be released from bondage when we arrived. And they spent the next few weeks taking over their new home.

For now, that's the story of their journey. Perhaps we'll talk about the acclimatizing process in future.

TRAVELING WITH OUR CATS TO FRANCE - PHASE 1: PAPERWORK

We made it! Mimi and Chloe are with us in France. Here's how it played out.

If you've read my previous posts on the subject, you are aware that there are rules to be followed when bringing domestic animals into France. They must be micro chipped. They must have all the appropriate vaccinations. They must pass a health examination within ten days of entry into France. And the US Department of Agriculture (USDA) veterinarian for your state must sign off on their paperwork within ten days of entry into France. The timing is tight. The rules as published on the French consular website can be found here.

Again, as reported previously, we forewarned our new vet, Dr. Greg Leck, months in advance. (The vet who had cared for our Siamese step-sisters since their birth having retired, apparently just to avoid this craziness.) The girls were chipped. The paperwork downloaded, printed, and discussed. Meanwhile, in order to bring the girls with us in the cabin and in order to go through French customs rather than customs in Barcelona (so that the girls would arrive as French rather than Spanish cats), we chose Turkish Airlines - JFK to Istanbul to Marseilles.

We bought soft-sided carriers, left them out and open for the girls to explore, put their favorite toys in them, and took the girls for several short rides in the carriers in hopes that would acclimate them. The girls weren't happy about it, Mimi (the elder of the two by one year) being the more vocal. She would also occasionally mark the padding with a spot of piss - just enough to let us know that she was pissed. But all in all, they dealt with the carriers well.

As our day of departure approached, things began to get tricky. Our vet had trouble connecting with the USDA vet in Harrisburg, the Pennsylvania state capitol about 80 miles from our home in Bath. The USDA wasn't responding to voice mails or faxes. Finally, during our visit to our local vet exactly nine days before our anticipated entry into France, we asked Dr. Leck once again to try to contact the USDA. Lo and behold, contact was made. "Fax me the paperwork," said the USDA, "and I'll get back to you in five minutes."

Yeah. Right.

But that's exactly what happened. Surprise, surprise. A quick tweak, another fax, and according to the USDA we were good to go. Good to go, that is, to Harrisburg to have the paperwork signed and sealed.

Can it be done over the counter?

Yes.

What are your hours?

8 AM to 4 PM.

Great. I hopped on my Suzuki and took the 80 mile ride to Harrisburg from Bath, found the right building, took the elevator up one floor, found the right office, and walked right in. And there, at the counter, was a sign that read: By Appointment Only. Appointment Hours 9:00 - 11:00 AM, 1:00 - 3:00 PM.

Frack!

I rang the bell. I begged.

Maybe it could be done today. Maybe not. The vet is a busy man. He might not be able to fit you in.

I proposed to go to lunch for an hour, come back, and see where things stood.

I went to lunch for an hour and came back. I rang the bell. The vet appeared.

You're the one with the cats going to France?

That's me.

That'll be $38.

Done.

I'll post once more when we arrive at our house in Quarante.

ON TAKING OUR CATS TO FRANCE - PART 2

We've determined on which airline we'll be flying to which port of entry - Turkish Air through Istanbul to Marseille (See Part I). The next hurdle? Paperwork.

The website maintained by the French embassy in DC has a section on regulations regarding bringing privately-owned pets into France. It seems simple enough. Dogs, cats, and ferrets as well as hamsters, mice and other domestic pet rodents are welcome with the proper paperwork. Birds must undergo quarantine either pre- or post-entry. Here are the rules  ripped from the website and slightly modified for clarity for dogs, cats and ferrets coming to France from the US:

• Every animal must be identified by a standard ISO 11784 or annex A ISO standard 11785 microchip or a tatoo clearly readable and applied before July, 2011. If the microchip standard is different from standard ISO 11784 or annex A ISO standard 11785, you must bring your own scanner in order to read the microchip.  
• Every animal must have a valid rabies vaccination, even if less than 3 months old. If it is the first rabies vaccination for the pet, you must wait 21 days between the last shot of the vaccination protocol and departure.
• An OFFICIAL health certificate.

I've capitalized OFFICIAL for a reason. There's a form. It is not enough to have our vet sign off on the health of Mimi and Chloe - our Siamese stepsisters. The official USDA vet in our home state must sign off on the health of our cats no more than 10 days from our date of departure. This creates two problems:

1. Our vet since our cats acquired us retired just seven or eight months before we're scheduled to leave. We're going to run this craziness through a vet who has never before seen us or our cats.

2. The office of the official USDA vet for Pennsylvania is in Harrisburg, the state capitol 80 miles away.

So I called the number that I had for the new vet, Dr. Leck. After explaining the situation, I was given a number to call in Harrisburg. I called the number. I was given another number to call. I called the second number and left a message. I got a callback in a surprisingly reasonable period of time. I had called the wrong number. I would be transferred to the right number. And I was. At least I think that I was. The guy who answered seemed to know what he was talking about, asked me the name of our vet and, when I told him, said that he had the name of our vet on his list and would fax him information.

I asked for and received a callback number.

A week later we took Mimi and Chloe to Dr. Leck to be examined and chipped. Painless for us all. The chip is inserted by a syringe and the cats hardly seemed to notice. They're both in good health, from teeth to tail. 

But no fax had been received.

That's why we started this process five months before we depart. There will be glitches. From what I can tell, the form that must accompany the health certificate appears to be somewhat ambiguous in the way that documents created in foreign languages can be when translated to English. But there's time.

Updates as they become available.

ON TAKING OUR CATS TO FRANCE - PART 1

We will not move to France without Mimi and Chloe, our Siamese stepsisters. It would not be LIKE leaving members of our family behind. We WOULD be leaving members of our family behind. So we investigated.

There appear to be two phases to the process. First, how are we going to travel with the cats physically? Then, what happens when we show up in customs with two very tired, annoyed, and vocal felines?

This post will discuss the first question.

Let me be clear. We will not fly in the cabin with the cats in the hold. More precisely, Cathey won't fly in the cabin with the cats in the hold and I, being smarter than the average bear, agree. This limits our choice of airlines. Our usual carrier is Delta/Air France. We normally fly from JFK to Barcelona, rent a car, and drive over the border to France. Delta/Air France does allow cats in the cabin - for a fee of $200 apiece. Including that fee, two one-way tickets would amount to just under $5,000. Two round trip tickets would come to  $2,300. Big difference.

So I called Delta and asked the question: What happens if I buy a round-trip ticket and don't use the return? The answer, according to the agent with an accent neither American nor French, is that nothing will happen. We will receive a credit for the unused portion of the ticket and, after a year, the credit will disappear.

That works.

A thought occurred. We'll be flying into Spain but the cats will be residing in France. We could certainly drive across the border between the two countries without stopping, or even slowing down very much, but will that result in our cats being illegal residents of France? Perhaps it would be better to just fly into France and be done with it.

The question of price became an issue as did the fact that there are no direct flights to any city as close to our destination as Barcelona. To fly to Paris, change planes, and fly on to Montpellier would be one solution. But instead of costing us $2,300, that flight would cost closer to $3,300.

What other options were there to consider? After much internet investigation and phone calls to several different airlines, we have come up with a solution. Turkish Air. We can fly from JFK through Istanbul to Marseille, with the cats in the cabin, for a total of $1,297. One-way tickets. And our tickets would be flexible. No charge for date or flight changes. Literally cheap at twice the price.

The layover in Istanbul will add considerable time to the trip but will also give us time to figure out a way to allow the cats to release their bladders and stretch their legs.

So, unless we come up with Plan C, we'll work on the assumption that we're headed for Marseille by way of Istanbul.

SANTORUM! WHO KNEW? I DID!

Yes, I did. Analysis HERE.

HANDICAPPING THE REPUBLICAN PRIMARY

Now we get serious. People will begin taking notice. Check out my take on the candidates' prospects here: PoliticalBlogContinued

BECOMING AN EXPAT: Making the Decision

For those who haven't been following...and for those who've been following but would like a little more: FranceBlogContinued.

QUICK TAKES ON REPUBLICANS: One Week Before Iowa

VERY quick takes. Read them at PoliticalBlogContinued. It'll only take a second.

southfrancerental.com has moved to SouthFranceAmerican.com

We've sold our little house in Cazouls-les-Beziers as planned. It was a great place to visit but we wouldn't want to live there. Cathey needs a garden and a kitchen that's not in the middle of the living room. We've traveled throughout Aude and Herault in the Languedoc region of southern France and we love it. So we concentrated our search within a radius of about 25 miles from Cazouls. And eventually we found the perfect house in the little village of Quarante, close to the Canal du Midi and Capestang, 10 minutes or so from Cazouls. 

Since we no longer need a website to promote the rental of our house, we've discontinued southfrancerental.com, purchased the new domain, redirected traffic from the old domain, and for the time being I'll just be blogging. Note the Pages linked on the left. New posts began appearing on those pages beginning in June of 2014. Older posts are archived on my formerly separate blogs, also listed on the left. Read and enjoy.

I’M NOT A DIARIST

Do you know that guy who pulls out his cell phone as soon as the plane stops at the gate to tell his wife that the plane has just stopped at the gate, then calls again at the baggage claim and once again in the shuttle? I’m not that guy.

Do you have a Facebook friend who describes her evening in little bytes, every detail concerning the kids, the pets, the hubby? That’s not me.

For instance, In France our breakfasts were always light…a pain au chocolat or a croissant, maybe a one-egg, herbed omelet. Occasionally, we’d add a couple of rashers of bacon. Once, we finished off a bit of merguez sausage left over from dinner the night before. And don’t forget bread fresh from the artisan patisserie, some of that fine butter from Normandy, maybe fruit jelly fresh from the farm purchased on market day in the town square. Having said that, do I really have to document the fare at every one of thirteen or fourteen breakfasts? For some, I suppose, it’s necessary information. To me, carefully chronicling such mundane occurrences smacks of egotism.

I’m just not that special.

So forget the day-after-day this is what I did and this is when I did it. From now on, I’ll write on themes. And not surprisingly, food will be one theme, as will real estate agents, satellite television, people who rented our house, and people who manage rental housing. It just makes more sense to me that way.

A TYPICAL STORY…OR NOT

Our story is a typical one.

My wife Catherine and I have always loved to travel. Ten years ago, when we first visited the Languedoc, we fell in love…in love with the weather, in love with the pace of French village life, in love with the smell of fresh bread every morning.

In love with the wine…

In 2005, we purchased a little holiday house in a small village north of Beziers. Nothing fancy. No garden or pool so no maintenance. We visited when we were able, rented it out to defray some of the expenses.  We came to think of our visits to the Languedoc not as vacations, but as coming home.

That’s why we were pleased to read in an English-language online newsletter that the French government has loosened access to the French healthcare system for early retirees. That’s important to us. If we don’t qualify, we will have to purchase private insurance at a heavy price. We’re not wealthy. Solid middle class. The cost of healthcare could negatively affect our standard of living when we retire permanently to the Languedoc in the next couple of years.

A typical story, except for one thing. We’re Americans. Yanks. From across the Pond. All of this EU stuff doesn’t apply. Not a single EU country recognizes our American Medicare health insurance for retirees. We’ve registered on the message boards. We subscribe to the newsletters. We paid dues to an association of Americans abroad. We’ve even telephoned the French embassy.

We ask the same question: How long will it take to qualify for the French healthcare system if we arrive at age 65 with a carte de sejour?

The answer? Immediately. Or 90 days. Or five years.

Don’t get me wrong. I can deal with uncertainty. I am fully aware that our fate rests in the hands of a French bureaucracy that can be as opaque as a London fog. But it’s frustrating that so much that is written in English concerning our problem, practically all that is written in English, is directed to our UK cousins and that all of the articles on websites directed to Americans are three paragraphs long and link to an international health insurance company.

Are all Americans in the Languedoc either employed or wealthy? Are there any Americans in the Languedoc at all outside of Montpelier? We occasionally hear the accent but most often in places where tourists gather.

Rant over. Are you American? Have you navigated the same problem that we are facing? Send up a smoke signal. Give us a sign.