Working for yourself

Since July 2008, people wishing to start their own business have the option of choosing to be an Auto- entrepreneur. Before this date the prospect of starting a business in France was rather daunting, particularly for non French speakers.
Apart from the language issue, which makes an already complicated process even harder, setting up a company is daunting because of the employer charges which have to be paid. During a company's first two years of activity the charges due are fixed as the revenue is unknown. In the first year these are relatively light, but in the second year it is assumed that your business has grown and the rate is higher. The unwary can find themselves with a bill much higher than their income, this is all sorted out in the third year but it is important to plan your budget accordingly. There is also the issue of the paperwork demanded by the administration.
The Auto entrepreneur status removes this potential financial constraint, and lightens the paperwork load. An Auto- entrepreneur only has to declare what he has earned each month, and his charges are calculated accordingly. Thus, if he has earned nothing he pays nothing. Normally the status is reserved for individuals wishing to create a complimentary activity or test a business idea. In terms of paperwork, the company only has to provide a ledger of receipts. The only problem with this status is that the income of the company is limited at around 30,000€ per year. This status is very interesting for English teachers wanting to step out on their own.
In France there are different options for teachers. The first, and perhaps the easiest for a new arrival, is to find a job in one of the numerous language schools. This option gives you the opportunity to gain experience and have some security. The downside is the pay which can start from 12€ per hour. Another option is to try and work in a University, Engineering or Business school. Here the pay is often better, starting at 40€ per hour. The problem is you often need a main employer, and your statue is 'vacataire' or freelance. Basically you need to have an employer who signs a document saying he is your main employer. Most teachers who follow this route have a part- time contract in one school, then find some work as a vacataire. The danger of this option is that if you limit your hours with your main employer, to earn more as a 'vacataire', he may not wish to sign the document stating he is your main employer. It is important to maintain an equilibrium, giving enough hours to your main employer to keep him happy.
The third option is to use a 'société de portage', these are companies who do all your paperwork for a commission. You are employed by them, but you must find the work, they then establish a contract and organise the billing, etc. The advantage is that they can be your main employer, however, they take a commission on your earnings. Finally the last possibility is to set up your own company. As mentioned before, for non- native speakers this option was the most daunting. However, thanks to the new status of Auto- entrepreneur things have become a lot easier. In theory you become your main employer. More information can be found at http://www.lautoentrepreneur.fr/images/3_Guide.pdf
I will, however, finish with a word of warning. In the last paragraph I said, 'In theory you become your main employer'. The status is very new, and Universities, etc who demand a main employer are just beginning to deal with the new status. Some have accepted it as the main employer others not. It is a good idea to make sure that your potential employer will accept the status of Auto- entrepreneur as main employer before jumping in.

Running an association

Associations are a big part of French life. There are associations for everything; gymnastics, judo, painting, learning English. It is even possible to set up an association to test a business idea without the risk of setting up an actual business. In essence associations are clubs, however, as with all aspects of French life the government had to get involved, and in 1901 a law was passed governing the activity of associations. Basically, a commitee of volunteers runs the association, this commitee must be made up of at least a treasurer, a president and a secretary. An AGM must be held once a year and accounts must be kept. The association can then employ people if necessary.
As an English speaker and teacher, I was asked to teach in our local language association. Set up some 20 years ago by an Irish woman living in our village, the association offers English and Spanish classes to children and adults. Unfortunately, membership had dropped off in recent years and my wife and I became determined to try and re- dynamise it. It transpired that the commitee was made up of friends who were more or less voluntary, and in reality the Irish founder did most of the secretarial, tresorial and presidential work. As she is also an employee of the association this is frowned on by the powers that be. So we set about reorganising the committee, a pupil's mother became President, my wife took over as treasurer and another friend became secretary. The next issue to tackle was the falling membership.
We had only discovered the association four years after arriving in the village, and when we spoke to people about it they were surprised to learn of its existence. We felt, therefore, that a campaign of information was necessary. We put up notices around the village, and to create a reason for these notices we opened an English library and an informal club for those whose English was good enough not to need lessons.
The launch of the association year is in September when the schools go back, the famous French 'rentrée'. Each village holds its 'Forum d'associations', where associations present themselves to potential members. This year ours was held in the brand new 'salle de spectacle'. There were hundreds of associations, and stories of dirty dealings abounded. Apparently the year before there had been rival Yoga associations who had shifted signs in a bid to have a stand closer to the entrance. This wasn't really a concern for us being the only language association in the town. However, being seen was a priority and we decorated our stand with posters and flags. The event lasts all day and it is amazing how busy it is. We were surprised, and a bit disappointed, to see that most people had their target already well prepared. The sports associations are very popular and quickly fill up. We had our loyal clients and managed to capture some new ones. We had leafleted the local area a few weeks before to try and inform the maximum number of people possible.
Our success was mixed we have been able to create three groups for children in English and the club seems to be popular. However, the library has been slow and we were unable to create an adult group. We are crossing our fingers for 2010 hoping that the new clients will tell their friends and the association can gain some momentum.

First snows

The mountains behind the house have received their first dusting of snow; I'd add a picture but they are hidden by the clouds at the moment. It had been a mild Autumn up until two days ago. The mornings and evenings were drawing in and it was distinctly chilly in the mornings, but by the afternoon we found ourselves stripping off layers in the warm sunshine. The mountain sides are magnificent in their covering of red, oranges and browns, broken by the vivid green of the fir trees. However, I detest this time of year, getting up and coming home in the dark. The inevitable colds and flus. The all to rapid end to another year of our lives, looking back and wondering just what we have achieved. We had been lucky this year with the extended Indian summer to lift the spirits, but now all that has changed. The temperature has plunged and a steady freezing rain has been falling for two days. So the arrival of the first snow is a welcome reminder that the Autumn rains won't last forever and in a couple of months we'll be fixing our skies. Hopefully we can expect sunny winter days on the pistes to help us to forget this damp and gloomy period.

Noix de Grenoble- Walnuts

Although the climate seems to be going mad and it is twenty five degrees Celsius in October, it is the season of ‘mists and mellow fruitfulness’, and the walnut trees are shedding their loads. In the fields, and on the roadsides, eager gatherers can be seen baskets or buckets in hand collecting fallen walnuts. My family returns from every stroll pockets bursting with the hard round shells. My French wife assures me that those falling on public paths are anyone’s. However, being French She doesn’t always stick to the paths last year she had a run in with a neighbour collecting walnuts under a tree in the middle of field. Despite this, it is true to say most inhabitants of our region collect rather than buy walnuts, largely due to the vast number of walnut trees here.
I must admit to never having thought about where walnuts came from. In London, as a child, I only ate walnuts at Christmas. Father Christmas always left a couple of walnuts and a satsuma in our stockings. Meanwhile, the residents of Grenoble in France knew exactly where walnuts came from; here in France they are known as ‘noix de Grenoble’, literally Grenoble nuts. The residents are proud of their nuts. In fact, in France the walnut is governed by two AOCs (Appellation d’Origine Controle first used for wines and now extended to other foods); the ‘noix de Grenoble’ and the ‘noix de Perigord’. The ‘noix de Grenoble’ even has its own website: www.aoc-noixdegrenoble.com
In the Grenoble region most farms have at least a few walnut trees. However, there are fields of walnut trees lining the roads entering Grenoble attesting to the importance of this tree to the region. South of Grenoble, heading towards Valence, giant ‘séchoirs’ (used to dry the walnuts) can be seen on the roadside. In the village of Vinay, it is possible to visit ‘Le Grand Séchoir’ (http://www.isere-annuaire.com/curiosite/vinay-sechoir.htm), a converted farm that traces the history of the ‘noix’. Walnuts have been grown around Grenoble since Roman times and local recipes make good use of the walnut. Here are three:

In the spring the French make an aperitif wine by soaking young green walnuts in red wine.

Vin de noix

32 green walnuts (collected at the end of June)
5 litres of red wine
1 litre of alcohol
800 grammes of sugar
1 stick of vanilla (optional)

The ingredients are left in a container for one month. The liquid is then strained off and bottled. The resulting wine improves with age.

This can be followed by the famous ‘Salade dauphinoise’

Ingredients :
- Lettuce
- Diced beetroot
- Diced boiled potaoes
- Diced Gruyère or Emmental cheese
- Walnuts broken into pieces
- Salad dressing, ideally made with walnut oil.

To Finish‘tarte au noix’ is a popular dessert.

Walnut tart

Shortcrust pastry

Filling:
150g walnuts broken into small pieces
20 cl whipping cream
1/2 cup water
75g sugar
2 tbs honey
2 egg yolks

Preparation:
Roll out dough and fit into tart pan , pressing against side. Cut off excess dough. Chill.

Filling:
Preheat oven to 220°C
Bring water and sugar to a boil in a saucepan over medium heat, stirring until sugar has dissolved. Boil, without stirring, until amber.
Remove from heat and immediately but slowly add hot cream . Once bubbles subside, stir in walnuts, honey and egg yolks.
Bake for 10 minutes. Decorate surface with walnuts.
Reduce oven to 170°C and bake until filling is golden-brown, 25 minutes.
Serve warm or at room temperature.

The nuts can also be pressed to release oil, much valued for salad dressings. Then there are the health benefits of eating walnuts. They contain Omega oils which help to combat cardio- vascular disease. The wood of the walnut tree is valued by furniture makers for its colour and properties. Rifles were made out of walnut wood during the Second World War. Even the walnut shells have uses in industrial applications, such as polishing certain materials. All in all, the walnut is a tree the residents of Grenoble can be proud of.

French restaurants let us down again.

We should have known better but we never learn. France may claim to have the best food in the world but service leaves a lot to be desired. Sunday was Sylvie's birthday and her Dad came to take us out to lunch. We have been disappointed on a number of occasions by the restaurants in Allevard, so decided to play it safe. We had already eaten at the 'Hotel des Alpes', a good experience, the restuarant is part of 'Logis de France' and appears in the 'Guide Michelin'. We, therefore, felt safe booking a table, how wrong we were!
Things got off to a bad start as we waited to be given the menu. It is worth mentioning here that we were accompanied by two, young and restless children. In the end, we resorted to catching the waitress at the kitchen door and collecting the menu ourselves. The wait to place our order was a little shorter as we managed to catch the waitress' eye before she disappeared into the kitchen. We were finally served a 'mise en bouche' and a jug of water. The waitress was hardly what one would describe as welcoming. It is true the restaurant was busy and she was clearly stressed, but a smile goes a long way in these circumstances.
The next step was relatively rapid. Unfortunately, rather than bring the kids burger and chips first, they brought the starters for two of us and the main dish for those who hadn't ordered a starter. The advantage of bringing the kids' food first is that they are occupied eating and don't get irritated by hunger. When we asked about their food we were told it was cooking. However, all was not well with the adults food.
The waitress remarked that she had forgotten the knives and forks. My father-in-law, someone who has worked in the catering industry, mentioned that rather than the six oysters, promised by the menu, he only had five. In addition, she had brought some butter but no bread. She scuttled off, and instead of returning with the missing items, proceeded to serve other tables.
When we finally caught her attention and asked about the missing oysters, she blithely told us the kitchen had run out of oysters. We also pointed out that she had offered scallops to replace the scampi, which the kitchen had also run out off, on one of the salads. She seemed perplexed and answered that the salad was with or without scampi. She then dove off to recover the cutlery and the bread.
In the meantime, the kids were sliding off their chairs and complaining that they were hungry. Sylvie was fuming and ready to leave without paying. However, my British phlegm, or fear of making a scene, made us sit it out. The kids food finally arrived, the burger was the most well cooked I have seen in nine years in France, generally they like their mat slightly browned and oozing blood. The kids attacked with gusto. The remaining two courses followed swiflty.
Sadly, we were to be disappointed here too. The meat, wild boar, was too salty and lacked sauce. The crozet, small pasta squares from the Savoie, were scaldingly hot. Finally, the accompanying courgette omelette was far too salty. Hardly the 'haute cuisine' we had expected.
When the owner, who was helping serve, cleared our table and asked if everything was okay she was met with a firm 'no'. We justified our lack of satisfaction, to which she replied that she was, with a lack of conviction, sorry but they were very busy. My father-in-law replied that this was hardly our problem and he expected a discount. The discount was duly accorded but we left disappointed that Sylvie's birthday meal had been ruined.
The experience has led us to reflect on the increasing lack of service in France. True, Parisian waiters have always had their arrogant reputation, but my Father-in-law was taught the value of service and knows how to manage a dining room. Even I know the basic 'dos and don'ts' of customer satisfaction. Last year, we went to the US on holiday, the level of service here extends to the nauseating but at least you want to return. This saturday we are going to try a new restaurant with good reviews, fingers crossed that our faith will be restored.

Earthquake

Last night, the earth moved for me and my wife. Unfortunately it was not in the way we might have hoped. I was reading my book, on the Mormons, while my wife slept beside me. Suddenly the house shifted from right to left, with an accompanying crack. We sat upright and she asked me, 'What was that?'. I hopped out of bed and looked out of the window. Sometimes the house shakes when a particularly heavy lorry passes on the main road, but at that time of night everything was quiet on the main road. The idea that it had been an earthquake entered my head. I descended the stairs to check but couldn't see any damage. Returning to my bed, I wondered if it had been a quake and what would happen if a bigger one occured. Recent events in Asia didn't help put my mind at ease. As I dropped off, I wondered whether the bed was really shaking.
The next day, I questioned various people living in our village, but no one had felt anything. Finally checking the internet we discovered that an earthquake had indeed taken place 6km from where we lived. It was only small, 2.2 on the Richter scale, not sufficient to be noticed according to the website I consulted. However, I can assure you that we noticed, and it was impressive.
It is quite something to feel a solid structure like a house shift sideways. It brings home the power of nature even in a minor way. Imagine the force that is able to shift the ground beneath our feet. Sometimes it is easy to forget that the Alpes are moving, minor earthquakes such as this are common occurances. Nevertheless, I have lived here 9 years and it was a first for me. Now I understand the anti- seismic appartements blocks in downtown Grenoble.

Swine flu

Swine flu, or 'Grippe H1N1' as its known here in France, is on everyones minds. A couple of weeks ago, the government was forced to outline its policy if cases were detected in schools. The policy appears to be that, if two cases are detected the class closes for 10 days. There followed an outcry as to how parents would cope, with the government calling on family solidarity. In preparation, lessons have been recorded so children can learn from home.
There are radio and TV adds warning of the dangers, and telling us to wash our hands. Schoolchildren are warned to cough, or sneeze into the crook of their arms. My four year old sneezes and then says 'whoops, and, a little too late, sticks her head against her arm.
I went back to work at the University last week, and was surprised to see a government sponsored notice on the toilet door showing me how to wash my hands. The fact that there is usually no soap and one dirty towel rather weakens the force of the message. I also discovered that a company in which I teach English, has set up a 'Grippe H1N1' committee to plan for an eventual outbreak in the company. The purchasing department has ordered face masks and handwash. Then on the radio, this morning, I heard the government is looking for new ways to fill the hole in the Social security budget. A hole made larger by its order for Tamiflu in case of an epidemic.
I must admit to being a little sceptical about the whole swine flu crisis. It seems to me that advertising agencies, printers, mask and soap manufacturers, and above all pharmaceutical companies are going to make a lot of money. I am prepared to believe that a lot of people will have the swine flu, maybe even me. My job as a teacher makes it all the more likely, due to the number of people I meet and shake hands with in a day. However, we are told it is no worse for a healthy individual than an ordinary flu. So if I do get it, I will take the time off work, losing money as I am a freelancer, but that would be the case if I had normal flu. I will stay in bed, with my aspirin, and wait for it to pass. I find it hard to picture the doomsday scenario of closed borders, empty supermarkets, grounded planes, and stationary trains and buses. I think, that the economic crisis has frightened people and they are searching for a bigger crisis to take their minds off it.
That hasn't stopped me giving in to the psychosis and popping to my chemists to by a handwash! I am even thinking of promoting my telephone lessons as a way to avoid the spread of swine flu!

Learning English

Ah like all good resolutions the summer has come and gone and no Blog updates.

My four year old was recently given a magazine for kids which, in its central pages, had two pages of "Apprends l'anglais'. I was horrified to see the suggested pronunciations, 'ze traouzeurz', 'ze cap', and 'ze chouz'. I'll leave you to figure out what they are referring to!
I think this magazine epitomizes the problem with English learning in France. The French don't want to lose their language, a noble sentiment. They fear being swamped by Anglo-saxon culture. I'm not knocking it, the last nine years have been spent taking advantage of this by teaching English. However, this negative attitude has led to a state of affairs where France is one of the only world economies with such a poor command of english. (See http://www.laurelzuckerman.com/2009/08/french-still-lousy-at-english-new-study-says.html).
It all starts in school, where the emphasis is on learning grammar from teachers, who themselves have a weak command of real spoken English. (Read Laurel Zuckerman's book 'Sorbonne confidential' for an account of how trainee English teachers hardly ever actually speak English, they listen to lectures in French on linguistics and then churn out essays on the same topic again in French). Trained and experienced English teachers from the UK or US cannot enter the French educational system without passing through the same system. In further studies, English is relegated to last place, and frustrated students have few hours of English practice. This leads to a situation where millions of French people work in multi-national companies, fearing the international meetings, and training budgets are spent on English courses.
I think a few simple measures could rectify this situation. It is very difficult, outside of the major cities to get English speaking radio stations. There is no channel dedicated to programmes in English, and few films are shown in original version. The English press is not easy to find. In fact nothing is done to encourage people to access English. No doubt to protect French culture. However, students I have tested with perfect US or UK pronunciation claim it is from watching and mimicking their favourite series on DVD. Easy access to a language is very important to a students progress.
Secondly, the French government should make it easier for qualified British teachers to enter the Educational Nationale. Qualifications are supposed to be recognised Europewide, so France's position may even be legal. I wonder is anyone has every challenged it?
Finally, the French need to accept, as everyone else has, that English is the international business language and embrace it as such. The will still be able to protect their culture, god knows their proud enough of it!

Land troubles

We've all heard the stories of poor Brits unsuspectingly buying a house in France, and then discovering lots of problems. My personal favourite was the couple who discovered their sewer was linked to the local stream. Shortly after the sales was concluded, their local council told them they had to pay to get it connected to the waste water network. Now, anyone believing in conspiracies might be tempted to think that the local council knew full well that the sewer was like this before, but either through fea, or family ties waited until a new owner was in place. I've heard of similar stories concerning 'rights of passage' that only materialised when a new owner brought the house.
You'd think that I, knowing these stories, would have been more cautious when buying my house. Sadly, I wasn't and we find ourselves in a situation that has lasted four years, and doesn't seem ready to be resolved. When we brought the house, four years ago, the estate agent showed us around the house and garden. In view of the house prices at the time, and the state of some of the properties we had seen, we were ready to say yes. However, at the end of our visit, in a throw away fashion, the estate agent pointed out a large barn and two small pieces of land that were included in the sale, he also mentioned that we were co-owners of the water source behind the house. These were unexpected bonuses and while they didn't clinch the deal certainly helped. It was only later once everything was signed and sealed that we discovered the full complexity of the situation.
There are in fact 15 co-owners of the source. Of these only three seem to use the source. Two are very old and live in retirement homes miles from here. Finally, one of the owners believes that the 'cadastre', plan which shows who owns what, is wrong. It seems that just before we bought or house, this neighbour was able to convince the town hall and drew up a new 'cadastre'. This new cadastre gives her a much larger piece of land. Land is everything here, as the size of the house you can build depends on the size of the land you own. More land equals a bigger house. Now, the only problem is that we own a small piece of land bang in the middle of their land. So, as they own a piece of approximately the same size next to our house we offered to swap. Good for both of us as we increase our land area, and therefore the possibility to extend our house or build a bigger one. This seemingly simple exchange has hit a wall. The new cadastre has to be accepted by the 15 co-owners of the source. Some legal reason justifies or demands this. Unfortunately, as our two pieces of land are also concerned, we cannot exchange until everyone agrees, and here is where the real fun begins. Our neighbours don't get on! A mixture of jealous, ancient feuds, and plain bloody mindedness are stopping certain of our co-owners from signing.
So here we are at deadlock, a four year deadlock that looks to drag on and on. Our last ditch hope is that the Mayor, who agreed to the original change, can act as referee between the parties and get agreement. Otherwise, the situation will remain unchanged, and if we ever sell we'll keep quiet about this poisoned gift. I haven't even talked about the problems of paying for the upkeep of this source!

Parenting

My wife and I had a rather unpleasent experience last night. We had just gone to bed, at 10 o'clock, when we heard a child screaming. Our immediate reaction was that it was one of ours. However, it quickly became evident that the noise was outside. We sleep in the roof with a poor sonic insolation, so we hear everything that goes on outside. I opened the window and realised it was our neighbours four year old. I jumped into a pair of running trousers and took the stairs two at a time, while my wife reassured him from the window.
He was standing in front of the house, wearing his running shoes, pyjamas and a coat. He was clutching a torch, and seemed terrified. I reassured him, everything was okay and carried him into our house. Between his sobs we understood that Daddy was at the match, he plays basketball once a week. We knew Mummy was on a business trip in the US, so this was a case of home alone. Fuming I jumped in my car and headed for the gymnasium. I met Daddy half way, calmly peddling his unlit bicycle home. I made a rapid U-turn and resisting the urge to knock him off his bike drove home to wait for him.
He arrived and laughed that he had forgotten his lights. Keeping my cool I explained the situation. To be fair he did go white with shock. He assured me he had locked the front door, which I had already discovered was open. I made him promise to never leave the child alone again, and ask us if he needed a baby sitter, before returning his son.
Now, we've all had some scares with our kids. Our daughter at two, escaped our vigilance and walked on to the main road. However, we learnt our lesson and it is now harder to get out of our house than in. The problem is this is not the first time our neighbour has left his son on his own. We expressed shock the first time and offered our babysitting services. Then only a few days ago, he left him on his own for the evening. I know because while I babysat our two kids my wife was at the same event as our neighbour.
The worst thing is that this couple are educated professionels, they should know better. My wife and I hardly slept last night running through all the possible scenarios of a child left alone at night. I haven't seen him today, but I hope the message got across otherwise next time I'm calling the authorities.

Work until you drop

Sitting in the morning traffic I began to think about retirement, as you do. I estimated that I'll have to work in France at least forty years to get anything decent. I came here in 2001 so that's 2041! I'll be 69 years old. Well at least the house should have been paid off in 2030, and the kids should be out of our hair. Niamh will be 36 and Liam 34.
I have difficulty imagining myself still teaching. The thought of standing up in front of a group of younger people, most of whom will think I am a badly dressed out of touch old fart, is rather worrying. I don't object to the idea of working at that age, although it is rather depressing to think I have 32 more years ahead of me. I just hope that I will be able to choose the type of work I'm doing.
At the same time as being depressing, it is quite exciting to think that, bar any major health problems, I have 32 years of experiences ahead of me. When I look back at the last 37, I feel I've done a lot. Sometimes I worry that my best days are behind me, but thanks to my mornings calculations, I realise that I've still got at least half my life to live. Anything could happen and it probably will.

The spring of chairs!

I've been working at the University since september last year. The other morning, I was confronted by a huge pile of chairs in the reception area. At first I wondered if they were repainting classrooms, however the haphazard pile suggested something else. Was this, then, some form of modern art? As I passed classrooms I realised that all the furniture had been removed. A fellow teacher informed me that it was the 'Printemps des chaises'(The spring of chairs)! Now, I have been in France for 8 years and I am married to a French woman, but I have never heard of this particluar celebration. I asked my colleague to explain. The emptying of classrooms and piling up of chairs, is a student protest at proposed government reforms called the 'Printemps des chaises'.
The French government wants to reform the education system in France. I shan't go in to details here as I am sure to get things wrong. Suffice to say the teaching unions are opposed, and they are supported by the students. The removing of furniture is designed, therefore to disrupt teaching. Unfortunately, the furniture in the lecture theatres, where most French teaching takes place, is fixed in place. The protest is therefore symbolic.
The big test will come this Thursday the 19th March, when a general strike has been called. Once again, we will see whether there is massive support, or whether as the President has said nobody notices when there is a strike.

Skiing in Chamrousse

Okay enough about the crisis, already!

I went to Chamrousse (www.chamrousse.com) this weekend. It's almost three years since a friend of ours sold his house there, so we haven't been back since. What a surprise! The station has changed, alot. Lots of new developments and it is looking quite refreshed. True, there was a ton of snow, perhaps masking the usual graffiti and dog shit. However, it has become a real ski station.

We arrived Friday night in a snowstorm. This has been a great year for snow. I apologise to those friends who were transfered overseas last year. We had a hard time going up, even with the snow tires, luckily we didn't need the chains, that we had forgotten at home. We spent the night in a pleasent Gîte, the "Fanfoue" (www.corole.com). Nice rooms, a jacuzzi, and a hearty breakfast. We had dinner in the station, and discovered that the Chamrousse welcome remains as unpleasent as ever. First time we had seen 'vin chaude' made from carton wine heated by the steamer on a coffee machine! Rather expensive too!
The next day we headed for Lac Achard, a relatively easy walk. As I said there was a lot of snow, and few tracks, as it had snowed all night. There were a few people with us to begin with, but by the time we arrived at the lake, we were alone. We had a quick lunch in the sun and headed back down, as it was quite cold.
We met a lot of people coming up, in various states of exhaustion. The quantity of snow made the walk more challenging than some were clearly used to. Some foolhardy souls were doing the walk without snowshoes, sinking up to their knees every few metres.
When we got back to the station, I was amazed to see the number of people, cars , and particularly coaches from all over France. Chamrousse has clearly invested a lot and taken off as a station. They offer a range of activities from motor scooters to ice diving, that didn't exsist before. If the shops and restaurants can work on thier communication skills and welcome, they might become a great station.

Crisis, what crisis?

I am a bit perplexed today. Last night, I watched a scary documentary about a small company in France which makes parts for the major car manufacturers. It was scary because it showed the mountain of stock the company had, and the lack of orders coming in. This situation had forced the company to stop production for three weeks, during the first three months of the year. The employees were obviously worried about their salaries and their jobs. What perplexed me is that, during the protest marches they organised, I heard them shouting Sarkozy's name. Of course, it is natural to try and blame someone, but Sarkozy? Surely it is the names of the heads of the major car manufacturers or the banks who should be solicited.
In France, when a company has problems, and needs to slow down production, they are obliged to use up holidays and RTT days (the famous days used to recuperate for weeks over 35 hours) first. So in the immediate, employees salaries are not touched. Once these days have been used up, the employees enter what is called 'chomage technique'. This means they only receive a proportion of their salary, worrying of course. However, they are entitled to money from social security. Finaly, if they are made redundant, France has a range of measures to help the unemployed back to work, as well as paying them benefits. Sarkozy has not touched any of these. His, and his government's (he doesn't act alone) objectif is to create jobs in response to this crisis.
Surely this is common sense. There is something else that bothers me. It seems to me that the car industry has been in its death throws for some time. We are encouraged to buy new cars by the marketing men, and the car is a symbol of our wealth. However the price of fuel, and environmental concerns, announce the end of our car culture. The industry has been slow to adapt, for example producing electric cars. At the same time, industrial production is cheaper overseas, so we should have seen delocalisation coming. Especially since we all want to pay less for more.
Now, I'm no expert of production methods, but producing parts for theoretical orders, as the company in the programme did, seems rather dangerous to me. Perhaps I am missing something.
Unfortunately, this crisis represents a shake up of our economy and it is not for nothing that the old industries have been hardest hit. While the workers have my sympathy, I think that they should be preparing to retrain and take advantage of the opportunities the government in France offers them.
There is, however, another aspect to my confusion. On saturday, I went skiing with my family. The ski station was packed. It was a nice day and a large number of families were picnicing on the piste. I don't wish to deny people their pleasure, but if times are as hard as people say perhaps skiing, an expensive past time, is not the best way to save money. A recent trip to a local shopping centre led to a similar conclusion. People say they don't have money, but the spending hasn't slowed down.
I think there is a major economic change taking place, it won't be easy but the negative, critical attitude that pervades our society won't make things any easier. We are nowhere near as poor or vulnerable as our grand parents were in the 30's and we should be thankful for that. We need to stay positive and optimistic, this way the crisis and doomsayers won't bring us all down.

Looking after the kids

I've just got back to work after one week looking after my two kids. They are four and nineteen months. It's great to spend quality time with them, but boy is it hard work! I've finally accepted that I can do nothing else when they are around. If I leave them for longer than five minutes, the battle starts: usually one or the other taking the toy or book that their sibling is playing with. I must confess to having stuck them in front of a cartoon while I had a 30- minute telephone lesson with a student. I am also a little disappointed to say, that the addictive power of TV kept them quiet for the full 30 minutes. The danger now is that I will use it again to get some peace while I do something else.
One of the difficulties is that there is so little to do with small kids. Tours of the local duck pond can get tedious. The museums are not adapted to their age, and they are not really ready to hit the ski slopes. We generally take a walk in the morning, followed by lunch and a nap. I suppose I shouldn't complain because nap time can give me two full hours to myself. If they sleep! In the afternoon, we might do some shopping, or another walk, or if the weather is bad some cooking. Generally about 6pm tempers become frayed. I've run out of activities, I want to start preparing dinner, and the kids want mummy. So when my poor wife walks through the door, after a full days work, she is mobbed.
Of course any woman reading this will smile and say, 'Now you see how it is for women!' I have been looking after my kids every Wednesday since my daughter was born in 2004. In France fathers can do this and, as there is no school on Wednesday it saves on child care. Despite the difficulties I am glad I did it and grateful that my work enables me to look after them.

Valentine's meal

“Excuse me”, said the guy at the next table, as the elderly waitress rushed past, “Could I have some salt?” The waitress paused long enough to say, “You’ll have to ask the lady looking after your table.”, before brushing through the swing doors to the kitchen, situated just next to his table. The reaction was one of consternation, not just at his table, but also at other tables within earshot. This insignificant exchange summed up our Valentine’s dinner.
Disappointed with the quality of restaurants in our town, we still venture out from time to time, with hope in our hearts, to try a new venue. So, I had booked a table at a hotel we had passed a few times. By coincidence it was the 14 of February. On the telephone, I had been told there was a special Valentine’s menu. The hotel from the outside looks old, with its large sash windows and turn of the century architecture, but it had recently undergone a renovation, so we were keen to give it a try.
Our arrival was not auspicious, we missed the button by the front door which had to be pressed to gain entry. A guest opened the door from the inside, when he spotted us struggling. The reception area was empty, so we passed through into a bar. Some antique, and very uncomfortable looking hi- backed chairs were arranged around two marble topped, and equally old looking tables. Several couples were in the bar, drinking and nibbling crisps. The conversation was hushed, like a funeral. Suddenly a tall, thin and rather fraught looking woman appeared and welcomed us. “We’ve booked a table”, my wife told her. “Oh, is it eight o’clock already?” was her response. I had not been given a time when booking, but it appeared that we were early. She installed us on two of the, we were able to confirm, uncomfortable chairs and gave us a drink and bowl of crisps. We chatted and took in our surroundings. The hotel had clearly had a lick of paint, but the high, cracked ceilings, with candelabras and mouldings gave away its age. Gradually more people began to filter in until, at what must have been eight a clock, there was a rush towards the doors at the end of the bar. No signal had been given, but this was clearly the moment to grab your table. We followed the mass into a room packed with tables, mostly for two people. A musical duo was installed at one end of the room and had started playing their repertoire of classic French easy listening. We were informed that we could choose where to sit, and judiciously headed away from the band.
There must have been thirty, or so, tables in the room with not a lot of space in between for the waitresses, or intimacy. We were served a second champagne cocktail and another bowl of crisps. We then witnessed a debate, between two waitresses, about who was serving which part of the room. This was conducted over the heads of a couple, which represented the dividing line between the two territories. We were unfortunately consigned to the older of the two waitresses who, we soon realised, was out of her depth. First, she forgot who she had served aperitif drinks to, then, she handed out the wine menus and began taking orders from those closest to the kitchen doors. We were lucky not to have chosen a table further from the kitchen While others had still not been served their aperitif, she made empty handed trips to and from the kitchen. She wrote down wine orders but left the menu on the table instead of handing it to another couple. The other waitress had meanwhile grabbed a tray from which to serve the aperitif, instead of two at a time like ours. Everyone in her section was soon served. There was however no loyalty, and she did not come to the aid of our hapless waitress. This performance was made all the more amusing as the menu was set, and the only choice we had was the wine. Our wine arrived very cold, and we were not offered the chance to taste the wine. As the evening wore on, she became more nervous, muttering to herself and seemed truly lost. The unhappy, salt demanding, couple were offered a compensatory glass of champagne by their waitress. Some brave souls from our sector asked for more bread, which when it finally arrived was completely different from the bread we had eaten before, and so hot it had obviously just been defrosted.
The antics of the waiting staff would have been amusing if the food had been good, sadly the foie gras was too cold and the beef too tough. The overall impression was of a restaurant out of its depth. There were sixty five people in all, many of who had paid for a package, with a night in the hotel. I just hope their rooms were good. As soon as we had finished we scuttled out the door, as many other couples did, while the duo played their easy listening mix. All in all a Valentine’s to remember, and I forgot to get any flowers!

Impressions of France

I received a questionnaire, this week, from the site www.expatica.com asking about my impressions of France. The first question asked for my first impressions, not easy to answer after 8 years of living here. A lot of water has passed under the bridge and my vision is affected by hindsight. However, I do remember being struck by the beauty of the Alps. Today, the mountains have become a banal feature of my daily commute to work. What about the food? the questionnaire demanded. Of course, like all foreigners, I enjoy French food, even snails! What has struck me though, is despite French mocking of English cooking, our two countries have a lot in common. The French 'boudin' is just a version of English black pudding. When my French in-laws describe raising, and then killing their own pig in the back garden in Normandy, I could be listening to my Grandmother describing rural life in Leicstershire. It is true, the French have a greater respect for their food than the English, and fast food isn't so prevalent, but our traditions are the same.
What would I like to change about France? Well, it seems that the changes I would like are already taking place. France, and the French, are very proud of themselves. They have the best public service, education and health. Many French never set foot outside the country as, according to one of my first students, they have everything in France. We all know their food is the best, etc, etc. However, today the French are beginning to realise that they are part of a global system, and that their are other models, and they could learn from them. The transformation will be painful, and centuries of tradition will have to be swept aside but the result will be better for all of us.

Sarkozy

You've got love him! 15 million French people tuned in to his interview last Thursday. Okay, the journalists were handpicked, but they asked him some difficult questions ,and he had an answer to everyone. Okay, he probably scripted the whole thing, but he did look good. The so called opposition is so busy writing bitchy books about each other that Sarkozy has an easy ride.
This interview was supposed to address the worries of those who took to the streets the week before. Sarkozy was confident and promised to make the changes France needs. The so called general strike was less general than predicted, the usual suspects were there, teachers and railway workers. However, these groups strike so regularly nobody really takes any notice anymore. And what was this strike about? The global economic crisis! Note the word global, just what they thought they would achieve by striking against a global phenomenon is debatable. Okay, they are worried, well we're all worried. Okay, money is being handed out. But what do they expect, a brown envelope of cash through their letterboxes! Sarkozy has proposed a number of public works; TGV lines, nuclear powerstations, which will create jobs. The money is not directly in our pockets but it will filter down.
What really angers the trade unions here in France, is his reform of the public sector, which effects their members. But it's not the public sector who will be hit the hardest in this recession, it's the private sector workers who didn't strike. Those working in manufacturing who know the score. I like to think of them as the silent majority who voted for Sarkozy, and who still have confidence in him in absence of any realistic alternative. It's not time for strikes, it's time to hunker down and weather out the storm. Sarkozy may not be perfect but he's the best hope the French have today.

Walking in the mountains

As a treat, for my birthday, my wife booked me and her, without the kids, into a 'Gite d'étape' in the mountains, not far from our village. A 'Gite d'étape' is like any other except that it is usually on or close to a walking trail. The one we chose is set on the ski pistes at the Sept Laux, in Isere (http://rando7laux.free.fr/refuge.htm). We spent a pleasent evening in the company of Anita, after a short walk up from the station of Pleynet (http://www.les7laux.com/). Our objective was to walk, with our snow shoes, from Pleynet along a mountain ridge to the 'Cret du Poulet'. It is not a particularly arduous walk between 3 and 4 hours, over approximately 15 kms, with an ascension of about 300m. Of course, like all ridges you go up and down a fair bit. It is a safe walk, as there is no avalanche risk, and it is hard to get lost with the tracks of other walkers.
The Gite was very pleasent, a converted sheperds hut, which serves as skiers restaurant as well as Gite. The rooms were clean and warm. We ate our 'Tartifette', a traditional dish of potatoes, ham and cheese, in front of a fire. As we were the only guests the dining room took some time to warm. However, we were able to have a good chat with Anita the manager. She has lived in our village for a long time and runs the 'Refuge of the Cret du Poulet', our destination during the summer months.
Unfortunately, Anita was fairly disenchanted with the attitude of our local town hall, the owner of the 'Refuge du cret du Poulet', not least because after 15 years of loyal service, they had put the management of the 'Refuge' out to tender. We talked about tourism in the region; the influx of foreign visitors to these small, low mountain stations; and the difficulties faced by the service providers. It seems there is a lack of coordiantion which doesn't always encourage development.
The next morning, after a breakfast of coffee and croissants, we made our way under a menacing sky to the ridge. The views from the ridge are spectacular, to the right is the ridge running down from the 'Pic de Belle Etoile'. This part of the moutains is very dangerous with its numerous avalanche corridors. Far below we can see the villages and hamlets of the 'valley du Breda', a true alpine valley. On the left the scenery is gentler with the foothills of the Belledonne range giving way to the Gresivaudan valley and Grenoble. Then rising suddenly to the ramparts of the Chartreuse. Unfortunately, for us the snow clouds blocked our view to Grenoble and the Vercors beyond. We walked rapidly as, although the walk is safe, it is best not to be caught in the fog on this ridge.
Most of the walk is exposed, except the final portion following a marked snow shoe track through the trees to the picturesque 'Refuge du cret du Poulet, set in it's own clearing. The clearing is a junction for cross country skiing tracks. It is a an ideal place to stop and have a bite to eat, inside if the weather is bad or outside in the sun. The 'refuge' offers walkers meals and hot drinks. It is also possible to spend a night here. We finished our walk here and returned home to the kids, tired but relaxed.
The walk we did is only one section of a walk called the 'tour de pays d'Allevard' (http://rando7laux.free.fr/tpa.htm). We hope, when the kids are older, to complete some of the other sections.