CAT'S LOVE SPRING IN OCCITANIE...

YOU KNOW THAT IT'S APRIL IN THE LANGUEDOC WHEN...

...a familiar but foreign species makes its annual appearance, Latin name Caravanus Horribilus. They appear suddenly the first of April, grazing in a frustratingly leisurely fashion on the highways and byways of the Languedoc with little care for whether or not they are interrupting local migratory patterns. In the evening, they may retire to corrals reserved for them throughout the countryside but they are just as likely to consume multiple parking spaces in your village square. Speaking of consumption, their diet consists of copious amounts of petrol as evidenced by their bilious effluvia. The Caravanus Horribilus season lasts for five or six months, just until autumn when, as they are about to disappear, they are replaced on the roadways by their sister species Vendange Humongous.

Often found in the interior of the Caravanus Horribilus or somewhere nearby, in an apparent display of Darwnian symbiosis, lives the Grocerious Abundancia. They exit their lairs on Saturday mornings and clog the lanes of the cashiers in the local Carrefours, Intermarches, and other hunting grounds. They are enormously successful hunters, as the volume of their prey attests. But they forget to have their prey weighed while still in the wild, delaying more considerate hunters. They speak in strange tongues. And they rid the pampas of any excess wine or beer that might be extant. This last may have something to do with the dodgy manner in which the Caravanus Horribilus maneuvers.



Hikers appear. They are old and they are young. The backpacks of the young ones often weigh more than they do because they are living rough and have prepared for their every camping need with expensive, micro-miniaturized, eco-friendly, carbon-neutral gear. The old ones have belly packs, spend their nights in chambres d'hote, have personal support teams driving rented vehicles, and have booked a masseuse for the afternoon. Either way, one has to be careful. The hikers find the narrowest back roads to travel, often in packs, and even the French frown on knocking one into a ditch with your Citroen.

You learn how many different shades there are of the color Green. Even in the Languedoc, the
winters are characterized by brownish hues. As April approaches and vineyards, fields, and gardens are freshly tilled, the browns seem even more dominant. But then, not quite all at once but in a very short time, spring comes along. The days become tantalizingly longer and warmer. The breezes don't bite quite as badly. And Green happens. The Impressionists chose to paint here for a reason.


There are a variety of other indications that the worm of winter is turning. Asparagus. Iris. Mediterranean beaches beckon. Mountain lakes become destinations. But flavorful fresh food, beautiful fragrant flowers, and scenic geography are so ubiquitous in this corner of the world as to border on the mundane. It's the frustrations that mark the seasons. Forget the Zika virus and the Aedes mosquito. When will they development a safe, biodegradable repellent for the Caravanus Horribilus?

Strawberries on the terrace. That's really all that you need to know about April in the Languedoc. Strawberries on the terrace. 

FRANCE - BIG SKY COUNTRY

Texans talk about Big Sky. The flat, monotonous landscape lends itself to far seeing, to eyes lifted to points above the horizon. But just as the land is monotonous, the sky is ever changing, a vast roiling palette. Impressive.

I had no idea that the sky in the south of France would display the same attention-grabbing variety. Frankly, the realization snuck up on me. One day, months into our stay, driving with wife Cathey along a familiar roadway, I realized that I looked forward to a point where the road opened up to the sky, to looking up, to seeing what the Languedoc sky had to offer.

And so, I began to take better note of the sky outside my office window. I had chosen the top-floor room for my office specifically because of the view. But once ensconced, I took that view for granted. No more. You see a sample of those views below. Pictures worth a thousand words...

SNOW IN THE LANGUEDOC - IT DOES, YOU KNOW

 One of the reasons that we moved to the south of France was Cathey's vow, "I will never shovel snow again." Well, we won't have to shovel but it was a bit of a shock to wake up to a dusting of the white stuff.  It's the first week of February, after all. The temperature has seldom dipped below freezing and this is the first hint off wintry precipitation. So I suppose that we can't complain. However Sylvie, less than a year old, was befuddled. And once a flake landed on her nose, she wanted nothing more to do with the stuff except at a distance.

An hour after these pictures were taken, the snow was gone. Melted. As one friend in the States put it, the beauty of snow without the shoveling.

CAFE DU MIDI - BIZE MINERVOIS - A REVIEW

You can't go home again. Well, in this case it might be more accurate to say that you can't always get back to where you once were even if you go back to the same place. Catch my drift? Too much drift?

On a luscious fall day in 2004, my wife Cathey, her sister Liz, and I happened across a restaurant in the little village of Bize Minervois. It's a pretty little village with the river La Cesse running alongside, not far from the regional olive cooperative with its neat gift shop, and on the back road from here to there if you're tired of the highway. We're in and around Bize quite often. But we've never returned to that little restaurant just inside the Bize archway until this weekend. We remember the restaurant well, though we've lost the name, because of a picture that Liz took of Cathey and I as we sat down to eat, a picture of a younger, happy, and satisfied couple that was printed out, framed, and given prominent play in my office at work and also served as my avatar on several websites in the decade since it was taken. The meal was as memorable as the picture. The girls shared a huge salad plate with a dozen or more ingredients including fresh veggies of the region and the season, pickles, and a hunk of country pate. I had rabbit, my first in France, stewed to perfection and served in a funky terracotta bowl. No ambiance, though. Not a lick. Just good French country cooking.

Today's Cafe du Midi is a different sort of place. Modern brown and red fabrics in place of the white linen. Modern, slightly awkward chairs. Modern lighting. Modern. That's okay. Modern is okay. But the menu was not okay. Our choice for a main dish was either hamburger or steak. Granted that it was a winter weekend. Granted we arrived just before a party of about twenty that had booked beforehand. Granted that it was the fixed price special. Even so, you shouldn't have to choose between cow and cow.

I will say that the presentation was interesting. Check out the picture. But to Cathey, the idea that hot and cold courses were served at the same time meant that by the time that you got to the last hot course, it wasn't hot any more.

So...

The sauteed veggies atop a square of puff pastry with a mild sauce was OK. The gazpacho with bits of bacon would have been interesting if we didn't get the feeling that the tomatoes came out of a tin. The steak was French biftek with a sauce and a dash of onions. The fries - chilling down while we worked on the veggies and the gazpacho - were probably reconstituted. The pineapple was fresh and the presentation novel. The goat cheese was good and the cheddar was French cheddar. (The French don't get cheddar.) Good baguette.

With a demi of wine, 32 Euros. Cathey has spoken. There are too many kitchens to sample in the region to come back to the Cafe du Midi any time soon.

LES TROIS PETITS COCHONS, GINESTAS - RESTAURANT REVIEW

Full disclosure...I'm a sucker for neighborhood joints.

Certainly Cathey and I enjoy destination restaurants with inventive takes on classic themes. But most times when we go out to eat, Cathey and I are simply looking for good food, well prepared, in a casual atmosphere, at a reasonable price. That's what defines a good neighborhood joint. That's Les Trois Petits Cochons (The Three Little Pigs) in a nutshell.

Les Trois Petits Cochons is more a bar than a restaurant or bistro. There's seating for about twenty at tables inside, a few more outside facing Ginestas' market square if the weather suits. You choose starter and main from a chalkboard menu that the waitress props up near your table. We were surprised at the variety. I had grilled Camembert for a starter that came boiling hot with a sort of cracker crust underneath and bits of smoked ham on top. Cathey had an odd take on German potato salad - herring and sliced potatoes in olive oil with a boiled egg for a garnish. There were a number of other choices including the ubiquitous salade chevre chaud (salad with hot goat cheese). For my main I had a steak with pepper sauce, onions, and mushrooms. Cathey had chunks of veal with a tomato and mushroom sauce. Crispy frites accompanied my steak, Cathey's veal came with rice. Everything was nicely but simply presented. No square plates. And everything was properly cooked and spiced. There were even sprigs of herbs in water glasses at the exit of the kitchen that were plucked for garnish as the waitresses brought out the plates. Other choices for mains included beef bourguignon, chicken, duck breast (for a supplement of a couple of Euros), and more.

A demi of wine was included as were our desserts. The wine was good sipping pink. The desserts didn't feel as though they were made in house, local commercial probably. Not bad but not great.

Service was pleasant and cheerful, timely but certainly not rushed. There were clearly a number of regulars in the house for our Tuesday lunch. We heard British English and German as well as our American English and, of course, French. We liked the fact that, as we entered, one of the waitresses was handing a gentleman in a wheelchair a takeout meal and another gent came in later with a basket for takeaway, returning his cleaned plate from his last meal. Being among happy, buzzing neighbors getting the service that they needed, regulars both inside and out, made for an enjoyable hour and a half. And at 13,90 Euros apiece, including the wine, easy on the wallet.

We'll return.

RESTAURANT LA CAVE, LA CAUNETTE - A REVIEW

There are myriads of restaurants with diverse and interesting menus to choose from here in the south of France. Every would-be celebrity chef on the road to fame and a Michelin star has a kitchen pumping out his or her specialty. How to choose wisely? Lunch specials are the way to go. You get great value for your Euro and a definite feel for the skills of the folks behind the swinging doors. One spot we've recently visited for such a taste test is the Restaurant La Cave in La Caunette.

On the road to the beautiful tourist destination that is the town of Minerve, La Caunette is itself perched precariously on a hillside. Reached by way of a tall and narrow bridge, near the entrance to the village there's a small church with an oddly new-feeling cemetery behind it overlooking the gorge. The town of about 350 souls boasts several wine producers offering tastings. And across from the mairie (town hall), in a building that one would suppose had been a winery (cave) in a previous life, sits the Restaurant La Cave.

We first tried lunching at La Cave on a Wednesday. A group was waiting to be served on the small terrace as we approached. We tried the door but it was locked. The front of the double-sided chalkboard with the menu said Ouvert (Open), but the backside advised that the restaurant was closed for dinner on Tuesday and all day Wednesday. We so informed the French folks who were waiting and went on over to Minerve and La Table des Troubadours (See previous post for my review. You don't want to be bothered? It's passable. Just passable.) 

On our return to La Caunette, with a different companion, we chose to dine inside. Surprisingly modern furnishings contrasted with the obviously ancient but well re-pointed stone interior. And I can do without the oddly shaped plates. But why quibble? It all seems to fit together somehow. And it's all about the food.

For a reasonable fixed price (15,50 Euros apiece) we had a starter, a main, a dessert, wine, and coffee. No ups. The tab came to 46,50 Euros for three. Amazing. That never happens.

For starters we chose from either a piping hot, fall-inspired root veggie soup or vegetables of the season (tomato, cucumber, eggplant, and onion) sliced thin, oiled, and topped with a few anchovy filets. The choices for the main were a steamy bowl of cassoulet or three plump sardines escabeche-style. All were properly spiced, freshly prepared, and well-presented. For dessert? Creme brulee or chocolate/saffron fondant or a banana torte. Just fine. The service was well-paced and attentive without being intrusive. 

We shall return and try a dinner on a special night. Recommended.

VENDANGE IN THE LANGUEDOC: A MORE COMPREHENSIVE VIEW

For more pictures of the vendange and a bit of history and statistical info, click over to my FRANCE PAGE.

LA VENDANGE: GRAPE HARVEST TIME

The very air is electric. Every morning, you awake expecting to hear the sounds, smell the smells, feel the stickiness, get bitten by the yellow jackets, get stacked up in traffic, and in general curse up one side and down the other of that best/worst of times, the vendange. 

As summer ends and fall approaches, the vintners begin to go to their vineyards earlier and earlier in the morning. The first grapes that are ready to be harvested are the whites, the chardonnay. If you know your local viticulture, you may even be able to predict which vineyards will be ready first. But in short order, everyone will know. 

The vintner decides. The big, honking mechanical harvesters hit the road. Cars and trucks jam the verges of the vineyards that are to be hand picked. Tractors with trailers that are numbered to identify to which section of which vineyard their contents belong make their stately way to the co-ops, leaving trails of grape juice at every curve along the two-lane blacktops that they travel. They dump their loads and they go back for more. And if you have to be anywhere during the vendange, you'd better add a half hour to your travel time. At the end of the day, the tractors bring their trailers to washing stations. The gutters run with more of the juice, keeping the ready supply of buzzing, biting insects happy.

And who knew that grapes in bulk could smell that strongly from that far away?

But it's worth it. It's worth the trouble. Because soon, not too soon but soon, we'll be sitting on the terrace. enjoying the sun, eating the cheese, and drinking the end result, the wine.

It's the south of France. Life is good... 

RESTAURANT EDIT

The Abbaye Sylva Plana restaurant in Laurens and Auberge de St. Martin in Beaufort reviewed on the FRANCE PAGE.

RECOMMENDATIONS FOR LANGUEDOC RESTAURANTS IN FRANCE BLOG

I don't believe that there's a country in the world, perhaps in the universe, that takes food as seriously as they do in France. I suppose that the Italians and the Spanish and the Greeks might disagree, and to be sure the cuisines of those countries, among others, deserve thorough investigation. But the French are just so gosh darn serious about it. From the epic and definitive (in its day) Larousse Gastronomique to iconic Julia Child and her revival through the efforts of that annoying Julie person, the French and those who treasure the French style have set the standard. It's idiomatic: If you haven't studied in France, if you haven't apprenticed in France, if you haven't cooked in France, you haven't made The Big Show.

For the less sports minded among you, The Big Show – or just The Show – is how minor leaguers refer to Major League Baseball.

I don't mean to imply that there's no such thing as fast food in France. The French can be in a hurry and are not above eating on the run. But we're not talking about tuna fish stuffed between two slices of white bread. And, although McDonald's and KFC and others have made inroads physically if not culturally, French fast food isn't about drive-thrus. Thank God they haven't penetrated into the Languedoc to my knowledge.

So what exactly is French fast food? One of those great baguettes, cut in half, sliced lengthwise, and containing fresh lettuce, a slice of cheese, and a taste of meat, just enough to flavor the loaf but not overwhelm it.

But this post is about restaurants. French restaurants. Not the 5-Star variety, but the restaurants that you find in the small villages with menus driven by a chef with enough skill and enough capital to cook what they want to cook when they want to cook it. This can be a good thing or this can go wrong.

We're foodies, so we're living in just the right place. From the most humble eatery to the finest restaurant, in the supermarkets and the markets in village squares, folks know and demand the good stuff. HERE are a few restaurants that are up to that demand.

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.

CHOOSING AN INTERNATIONAL SHIPPING COMPANY - PART THREE

We've chosen New York International Shipping (NYINTSHIP) for our move to France. Reasons appear in a previous post. But basically, the decision came down to two factors, a reasonable price (including them packing our stuff instead of packing ourselves) and a couple of online reviews touting their operation in France.

I haven't been disappointed to date.

That's not to say that there haven't been glitches.

Glitch #1
Paperwork requirements are burdensome and confusing.That's not all the company's fault. We're talking an international move here. Bureaucrats want to see paper. But it's precisely for that reason that clear instructions and timely assistance is necessary. For instance, I was given a password for a secure portion of the company website from which I could download a number of documents. After much gnashing of teeth, I called the company and was informed that the password entry box only accepted small caps. Silly. And as I found out, sometimes small caps worked and sometimes they didn't. From that point on, I simply emailed  a request for a particular document. Worked well.

Glitch #2
Not a glitch, I suppose. More of a disappointment.

After the first flurry of paperwork leading to a firm quote, NYINTSHIP asked for a deposit to slide me into the schedule. I found $1,500 to be reasonable.

Do you accept PayPal?

Yes.

So I sent $1,500 through PayPal. And NYINTSHIP said that I was on the hook for the PayPal fee, about $45. Disappointing. As I've written in Part 2, I could see no sense getting stirred up about $45 on a deal this size. I need their good will more than I need the $45.

Glitch #3
Our final invoice will be about 50% more than the estimate.

I'm not complaining about this one at all. Our fault. We're taking more than we estimated at first. When you add the living room sofa to the list, the price is bound to bounce for a relatively small shipment like ours. But because the company needs weeks of lead time to schedule your pickup and shipping, unless you've solidified your plans early on and get an in-person professional estimate, you are almost bound to under estimate. I'd added 10% to my initial estimate on principle. Obviously not enough.

Our lousy winter weather caused a one-day delay in the arrival of the truck and crew. One day turned into two days. But once they arrived, the crew of four were quick, thorough and considerate. Boom. Done.

Have you ever seen a man build a box around a couch from a roll of corrugated cardboard?

Now we wait. I assume that there will be one more post in this series, the one in which I report that all went well with the shipping and delivery.

Please, Lord...

EDIT: To skip to my review of New York International Shipping after our move was complete, Click HERE.

CHOOSING AN INTERNATIONAL SHIPPING COMPANY - PART 2

Having chosen NY International Shipping as the company that we will use to ship such modest belongings as we will take with us from The States to southern France, the pace of communication has picked up a bit. Forms must be completed, a deposit paid. It’s always something, to quote Roseanne Roseannadanna. And it’s not always something pleasant.

On accepting NY International’s quote by email, I was directed the section of the company website that contained the booking form, password protected, and I was given the password. It didn't work. I called and was told to use small caps. It worked.

I filled out the booking form. At the end, a chart told me how much I would have to put down as a deposit. For the amount of my quote, NY International required a deposit of $1,500. I used the PayPal button right there on the page.

The logistics office contacted me. Forms. According to a footnote, Americans going to France are not required to fill out a customs form. I emailed and asked the question. I'm an American. I'm going to France. Do I fill out the form? The answer? Fill out the form.

I emailed the customs form. I emailed a scan of my passport. PayPal indicated that the transfer of the deposit was completed. I called to conform. There was a problem. PayPal charges a percentage. That percentage would be deducted from the $1,500.

???

I had two choices.

1. What the hell! You put the PayPal button on your site. The site didn't say anything about deducting the fee. I want to be credited for the full amount that I sent to you.
   
2. OK.
   

I took a beat and thought about it. I chose the latter. I wasn't happy about it. It was cheesy. If you're going to accept credit cards or PayPal, you should accept the fees. But here's my thinking. I'm looking at 1% of the total bill. Is it worth the fight, probably a losing fight, and the loss of the company's good will, such as it may be? I decided to consider the extra payment it a gratuity to the company for being the low bidder.

So, the bid led the field. Communication has been excellent. But I wish there hadn't been these little blimps and bumps.

I'll write again as the process proceeds.

EDIT: To skip to my review of New York International Shipping after our move was completed, click HERE.

CHOOSING AN INTERNATIONAL SHIPPING COMPANY

As I've explained in previous posts, I have no desire to write handbooks. Nor do I wish to cause anyone to choose one product or service over another simply because my wife Cathey and I have made our choices. I'm simply telling the story of our experiences as we prepare to move from our home in the USofA to our home in France. Do your own due diligence. Don't depend on mine.

There are bunches of international shippers. You can find ads and links on expat message boards. There are portal sites that will submit your request for a quote to an array of shippers. If you know someone working in a major international corporation in your area, see if you can find out if the company has a go-to shipper.

Once we had the names of several shipping companies, even before I went to their websites, I began looking at sites that aggregate reviews of them. Let's talk about reviews for a minute.

I operate under the assumption that folks are more likely to write detailed reviews on company or aggregating websites if their experience has been unsatisfactory. You can find the same negative review on different sites if the reviewer is sufficiently pissed off. Cut and Paste facilitates shouting at the wind. Furthermore, if only 1% of the cargo that goes through the Port of New York every year is lost, damaged or delayed, that's nearly 1,000,000 tons of cargo. You're dealing with multiple complex international  systems. It's a crap shoot. Sometimes you lose.

In other words, I read as many reviews of as many companies as I can. Then I go by my gut

I decided to ask four companies for quotes. We exchanged emails. I sent lists. I got quotes. I asked questions. Three of the quotes were so close as to make no difference. Nearly identical. The fourth quote was 15% less than the others. NY International Shipping.

NY International's salesman was the most persistent, thorough communicator. He answered every email promptly and he followed up to make certain that I understood the information that he had sent. Yes. I know. A good salesman can convince you to buy a bad product. But one telephone exchange convinced me.

I asked the NY International salesman why I should trust a quote that was so obviously low. First, he asked me to hold for a few minutes to review the quote to make certain that there was no mistake. I liked that. He didn't pretend to have my quote in his head. It was a serious question and he seemed to be attempting to make certain that his answer was equally serious.  When he came back to the phone, he confirmed the number and added, among one or two other things, that they had a really good, efficient and effective agent in France who saves them money. That connected with one of the reviews of NY International that I'd read lauding their agent on the French side - good communication, solved problems...

So, at the end I settled on NY International Shipping. I'll post on this topic again as events warrant and  once the move has been accomplished.

EDIT: To skip to my review of New York International Shipping after our move was complete, click HERE.

EXPAT HEALTH INSURANCE FOR AMERICANS - PART 2

I tried calling two of the companies on my short list of three that met the requirements for medical coverage, repatriation, and return of mortal remains for a long-stay visa to France, Travelex and FrontierMedEx.

The first time that I called MedEx, the phone rang through with no pickup and no recorded message after the machinery said that it was sending me to an agent. I hung up, tried Travelex, and was put on hold while waiting for an available agent. When the recorded voice informed me that I would be called back if I left my phone number, I did. And Travelex did call back the next day...during a business meeting. It wasn't their fault but I couldn't talk.

I was disappointed that my first two calls went unanswered until I realized that I was calling during the Christmas travel season and a winter storm was rolling through the Midwest to the East Coast, disrupting flights from Chicago to New York. That's probably a good test of the systems at their worst. But OK. I'll give them a mulligan. (For any uninitiated non-golfers, a mulligan is a free do-over.)

A few days later, I called MedEx and Seven Corners.

I'm not going to go into the details of any of the plans that we investigated from any of the companies. I'm not their agent and the details might change by the time that you read this. Check out the websites. Do your due diligence.

I was on hold for five minutes at MedEx. The gentleman that eventually took my call was polite and knowledgeable. And the MedEx plan that seemed to make the most sense for us was basic, met the requirements for a long-stay visa, a coverage letter was available for visa applications, and the price was competitive.

A human being answered the phone immediately at Seven Corners. Wow. And when I was transferred to Customer Service, another human picked up right away, a pleasant and knowledgeable woman this time. She steered me to a particular plan that I hadn't considered and emailed me a link to the brochure while we spoke. Basic. Met the requirements. A coverage letter was available. Priced competitively. So Seven Corners noses ahead solely on the basis of customer service - as limited as my experience had been. But there's a catch.

By this time, I had spent a good deal of time trolling the travel insurance review sites.Those sites led me to other insurance companies. I dabbled but wasn't seduced by any of the new entries. Check out every site that can. Do your due diligence. I liked the tone of the Travelex reviews the best. They had sold the most policies, had the most reviews, and the reviews were generally positive. And they had called me back.

I finally found the time to call Travelex. I was on hold for four minutes waiting for an available agent. Not too bad considering the season. Again, the agent was pleasant and knowledgeable. (Maybe they all share the same phone room?) Need I say it. Basic. Met the requirements. Yada, yada.

Here are my conclusions after several weeks of internet investigation and several phone calls. These are insurance companies. They pay batteries of actuaries good money to determine profit points. Any plan varying significantly in price from plans with similar coverage would have to be viewed with suspicion. In the end, the choice comes down to comparing the nuanced differences of each plan, the look of the plan's website, your telephone experience, and your opinion of the opinions of internet reviews both from 'professionals' and from policy holders. (Who's to say how professionally disinterested the aggregated review sites are?)

I chose Travelex Travel Plus. I liked the tone of the reviews. The website was simple and utilitarian. Customer service, at least when a sale was on the line, was available and responsive to my questions. Travelex Travel Plus is a primary insurance, meaning that there's no waiting to determine if Travelex is first or second in line to pay the claim. No deductible for covered losses. And rental car insurance.
 
Keep in mind, this is bare-bones insurance. Full coverage, American style health insurance for expat Americans living in Europe costs three to five times what we'll be paying for Travelex Travel Plus. But we're in good health and we plan to begin checking out the French insurance climate both public and private from inside France as soon as we arrive. We can only hope that we'll be covered sufficiently for that first year while we sort things out.

 I'll post again on the topic when there's something newsworthy to report.

EXPAT HEALTH INSURANCE FOR AMERICANS - PART 1

Cathey and I knew from the beginning that health insurance would be a cause for concern as we prepared to move to France. The quality of care is not the question. European healthcare outcomes lead the world. We've had personal experience and we were impressed. But in order to qualify for a long-stay visa, the first step to obtaining the permanent carte de sejour,  we will have to present proof at the French embassy in Washington that, among other things, we will not be a burden to the French healthcare system for the entire length of our stay unless and until we qualify for that system.

Medicare benefits do not extend beyond America's shores. We will have to buy private insurance.

The French are relatively clear about the requirements. You need proof to their specifications that you are covered for medical, evacuation and repatriation expenses to the tune of $40,000. You can read more in the health insurance section on the French consular website HERE. The article even names several companies which will provide the required proof. It all seems rather straightforward until you remember that the French are masters of bureaucracy. And Cathey and I are both 65 years old, the age at which rates for new enrollments can be crushing if available at all. Although we're in reasonable health, there will be visits to doctors. We take prescription medications - cholesterol maintenance and such.

This is serious stuff. I began my investigations.

First, I searched the companies listed on the consular website. Then, I clicked on advertisements on expat message boards, on the websites of French real estate agencies, and on travel blogs. Finally, I began to search - on three different engines - a variety of phrases: expat health insurance, expat medical insurance, health insurance France, medical insurance France, international health insurance, international medical insurance, travel health insurance, travel medical insurance...  

Instead of recounting the boring details of my landings on sites of all sorts, I'll summarize.

There appear to be two tiers of insurance coverages available. The top tier policies are similar to a decent American full-coverage policy with the addition of the evacuation and repatriation riders. You can add vision and routine dental for a price. Higher deductibles lower the premium. Pre-existing condition? Read the fine print and hope for the best. I've been quoted between $8,000 and $12,000 for the two of us for a calendar year. Too much for us. One major international agency quoted $16,000 annually with no deductible, $8,500 annually with an $8,500 deductible. I don't care if the coverage included haircuts, manicures, pedicures and high colonics on demand. Too much for us.

The second tier is where the action is. Both sliding deductibles and/or sliding lifetime limits affect premiums. While the top tier policies offer limits in the millions of dollars, second tier policy lifetime limits can be low as $50,000 or higher than a million. The deductible may be per incident rather than cumulative or there may be no deductible at all. Purchasing the policy sufficiently ahead of your departure date may buy you coverage for the relapse of a controlled pre-existing condition. Rental car insurance can be a throw-in. Read the fine print and hope for the best. We've been quoted as low as $3,200 for the two of us for a calendar year for the no-frills, basic coverage that we hope is all that we'll nee

I've narrowed the field down to three companies through my internet research, two from the French consular site and one that caught my eye as I was investigated them. I will not detail the intricacies of their policies, each to the other. I am not their agent. See for yourselves.

Travelex Travel Plus
FrontierMEDEX TravMed Choice
Seven Corners Reside Worldwide

PLEASE DON'T TAKE THIS AS AN ENDORSEMENT OF THE THREE INDIVIDUALLY OR AS A GROUP. We have made no purchases. There may be other horses in the race yet to be considered. But I'm making calls and I'll be making up my mind soon. And I'll be keeping in mind that it's the Christmas travel season and there's a good-sized storm brewing. Let's see who has the staff necessary to keep the phones answered.

When I make up my mind, I'll post again.

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.