22nd May 2016

What is it with the French for strikes?  Takes me right back to the '70s in the UK. This last week there've been scenes of anarchists, incandescent with stoked-up rage, attacking and burning a police car.  And why? Seven French unions are opposed to the elected government's reforms to work laws. Whatever you might think about workers' rights to strike, it's never seemed fair to me that those who work for a large organisation with strong unions have a greater chance to protest against comparatively trivial things than those who work for themselves or for small, private firms. There seems no legislation to curb megalomaniac union leaders who look only for power and glory for themselves. So, as per usual, we the general public will suffer French national strikes this Thursday and 14 June.  Also this week, there was that terrible, tragic plane crash where passengers who boarded at CDG airport in Paris were probably blown to pieces mid-air, whilst the plane was sent spinning down into a watery grave. Now that's what normal, rational people should be protesting about. It's called getting a perspective on life. The French need to grow up.

27th December 2015

Non, rien de rien.....
Saturday was the 100th anniversary of the birth of a remarkable Parisienne. Sometimes in life we can be born with deformities, illness and poverty as she was.  She grew up in Paris's 20th arrondissement amongst the prostitutes of the Place de Pigalle, suffered crippling arthritic pain from a twisted body but miraculously discovered a life-changing talent. As 2015 turns into 2016 that is a lesson from which we can all learn. Resolve to discover your talent during this coming year. It may not be life-changing like hers but it will give you a reason for living, evoke the very essence of your inner being, and maybe it will make your name memorable long after you've gone. If no-one remembers you in the future, what's life for? So, just like Edith Piaf (and the character David Klein in Vichyssoise, to be published during 2016), you can truly say:
.....je ne regrette rien!

A happy, healthy and memorable 2016 to all my readers, wherever you live and whatever your individual talents. Make the most of them.

13 December 2015

Watching the news can send you mad! Merkel wins Time magazine's Woman of the Year. Understandable that after the racist madness in Germany 70 years ago she's desperate to show Germany's compassionate side by admitting those of a different faith, albeit a bit late. Conversely, another woman, Le Pen, pulled off a 'historic' win last weekend for FN, topping the vote in the first round of regional French polls. One thing's for sure: she won't be showing any compassion to those of other faiths/nationalities. If she wins today, what would she do? She'd stop charity subscriptions to migrants, family planning and human rights groups and would burn the EU flag.  'We will absolutely respect the law until we are in government and can change it!' she said. Enough said. And while all this was happening, we see a 'historic win' at the Paris Climate Change conference. But for those who feel climate change may just be the result of a normal planetary shift, I'd urge them to deal with the after effects of such change:  the sea is encroaching everywhere. Build sea defences, move people inland etc. The week's news: a microcosm of the ebb and flow of global life today.

15 November 2015

France is in shock. On French TV a woman lays flowers at the café 'La Belle Equipe' in the rue de Charonne in Paris....

Several weeks ago I was discussing aspects of past wars, based on my two forthcoming WWII novels, with a French friend in Toulouse. He said the world was already experiencing WWIII but no-one seemed to realise it. He says that war has now morphed into a new form, fuelled by our digital age and money-laundering. The frightening thing is: this isn't just one evil person any more, some kind of new Hitler, but a large, dispersed, group comprising trained passport-holders from every country. Is my friend right? France is a modern, western democracy, long holding true to its ancient lores of liberté, egalité and fraternité. As with others in the West, it's always welcomed diverse cultures and faiths as long as each person respects each other and does not seek to impose any kind of forced proselytisation on others. Live and let live in peace.

I thought that's what everyone wanted. Until last Friday, 13th November. What do I think?

At early morn' I had a dream

that man would cease his futile scheme

Fighting battles, suicide missions

Murder, hatred, blazing seditions

What man needs is re-appraise

in eyes of beings not so fazed

Yes, don't fight tribe v tribe

as if nothing else but diatribe

But see with eyes afresh from birth
that we're all one tribe - that of Earth! 

11 January 2015

Ten years ago a bridge was built by a Frenchman and an Englishman. As the 50 millionth vehicle is expected to cross the Millau divide this summer, it signifies something special.  I've always liked bridges.  Although they cost  a lot of money - this one cost 400m euros - and take a lot of time and effort to construct, it's worth it. They bring places and people together that were otherwise held apart. Global troubles and strife similarly need a lot of money, time and effort to cure.  An important new bridge now needs to be built, one that will act as a global catalyst to cross divides and bring people together. Wars happen when people fail to understand each other and mistrust each other's motives. With all today's technology, with the internet already bridging global divides, we have that catalystic bridge already to hand.  We have international organisations like the UN to use such a bridge.  As the long, silent march begins today from the Place de la Republique in Paris, let that be the starting point. Erase misunderstanding. Use the bridge.

17 August 2014

It was over 50 years ago when I first fell in love with France. It was a school exchange and I was a shy, gawky14. Jacqueline Brient was a surprising 21 and very chic. She shared a bohemian flat, with its ornate tiny balcony overlooking the Left Bank. Across the street was a noisy, eclectic marketplace so redolent of Paris.  Strong French cigarette smoke trails into my memory, together with that first meal. Haricot verts sizzled alone on the plate. I looked down and waited - surely there must be more? But no, so I ate and was amazed. The most delicious thing I'd ever eaten, mixed with what I now realise were baked garlic and onion. And then the train journey to the countryside around Blois where her parents lived. Walking through waist-high fields, golden with yellow daises, wild blue sage, cow-parsley and marguerites.  Ah, such memories. But now? After nearly 10 years of living in France, have I fallen out of love?  Certainly, the old loves still remain:  le bien manger, le soleil, la qualite de la lumiere, coupled with the amazingly efficient health service. But, c'est bien evident: I have fallen out of love with les francaises. Just too cold and reserved, making me feel unloved, miserable and dejected. For the future?  On verra.

2nd February 2014

When will it ever stop raining?  Can't get into the garden, so daydreaming again. I suppose my love for France started over 50 years ago when I went on a school exchange trip to Paris. Ah Paris! Because I'd grown up poor, main meals just being one course, I remember being astonished in Paris being presented with a plate of just haricots verts. Didn't realise back then that this was just the first course. The beans tasted like nothing I'd ever tasted before. Can still savour the flavour - probably tossed in onion and garlic in olive oil. Today, although le bien manger is still the same, Paris is very different. Don't even think of driving in the city as you'll learn a language that isn't exactly French! So, to improve tempers, Paris has introduced new ways to pay for parking - yes, those dreaded phone apps. Soon there'll be no more parking machines; just pay using the Vinci-paybyphone app.  But, but, how will passing wardens know that you've paid, I ask?  Surely they won't walk all along a street, using their phones to check each car's database?? And, without the machines, how will you know whether you can park there or not? Visit Paris by train and metro, I say.  Much better. And apps?  Sends us in-Seine...

23rd December 2012

Hurray!  We're all still here.  Unless you're all part of my virtual world?  Hard to tell from some strange things happening lately. Some joker tried to sell the English port town of Dover to the French!  I know that the English once owned Calais, but this is ridiculous.  Even Dame Vera Lynn (she who sang of the White Cliffs during WW2) is up in arms.  But it does look as if something is moving very subtly. Not just us but a host of British brands have fallen for that Gallic charm – or at least cash – the latest being Hamleys, which runs the world's biggest toy shop in Regent Street, London. Groupe Ludendo has just spent £60m buying the 250-year-old company. And there's more:  Stella McCartney and Alexander McQueen, maker of the Duchess of Cambridge's wedding dress are also at least half owned by the French.
But the Scots are up in arms. A Paris-based luxury goods group, LVMH, spent £300m chasing off competition from local rival, Pernod Ricard, to secure control of Glenmorangie, one of the best-known single malt scotch whisky producers. Him indoors doesn't care where it comes from, though. He says they serve it in a tumbler to stop you falling down. He's scotched all rumours and wishes you all very slurry grestive feetings.

12th December 2010

What has the recent ridiculous vehicle conflab between Prince Charles and the public got to do with the French? Not much you would think. And, it's not often the French copy anything English. In fact, ever since Chirac, English as a language is almost banned. It's common to buy goods here in France and search in vain for instructions in English - one of the most widely-spoken languages in the world. Regularly included on product ads are words in Portuguese and Dutch - hardly international tongues.
So it came as a surprise to find that Paris is soon to buy a product that is a byword in London: the humble black cab. Paris taxi drivers have been eying up the TX4, the latest version, with a 2.5L diesel engine that emits 212g of CO2/km. What the French like is the classic 5-seat passenger configuration. A lady called Elisabeth Young, from importers EMG, said that the French were particularly interested in the ramps for wheelchairs and the security partition between cab and passenger area. Well yes.
So, Prince Charles, if you're listening, perhaps now is the time to order one (a snip at 334,000 euros) via www.london-taxis.fr.

14th June 2009

I was interested to see that the French euro coin still displays those historic words Liberté Egalité Fraternité. Freedom is such an emotive word. Yesterday, I was chatting to some English tourists in our local market. The sun was blazing down at 36 degrees, yet the topic of conversation was, for once, not the weather. 'You're so free here', said one. 'There are no yellow lines, no white lines, no Don't Park Here signs....', said another. Yes, she'd got it in one. But, is this just the difference between rural and urban living?
In yesterday's Telegraph, Columnist Vicki Woods compared the French capital with London. And her conclusion: 'After my trip to Paris, I long to be back with the free French'. Unlike at typical London rail stations, there were no barriers at the Gare du Nord. Taxis wait right outside the station entrance - all parked haphazardly on the cobbles bang outside, in a typically French muddle of 30 or 40 cabs, all arrayed like spilled matchsticks. There was no parking supervisor, no Community Support Officers(!) and no concrete bollards to give nameless officials their daily dose of schadenfreude. In typical joie de vivre, the cab driver threw Vicki's wheelie-bag in the back and began beeping his way out of the muddle. And in London? St. Pancras is laid out to annoy, confuse and cause the maximum discomfort to tired passengers, its taxi ranks miles away from the trains.
That's what I like about France. We don't want Big Brother cameras, yellow lines, traffic islands every few feet. Yes, life can be hazardous, but if you're brought up to respect others, man has sufficient brainpower to make his own decisions. He doesn't need them made for him to the n'th degree, as in the UK. That George Orwell knew what he was talking about.

16th December 2008

Sky TV News last night contained wall-to-wall coverage of that Baghdad reporter who threw his shoes at George Bush. We all learned that shoes are considered unclean in the Islam world and, despite tight security at the press conference in Afghanistan, here was a very effective means of showing one man's disdain for (and hence misunderstanding of) the outgoing President of the United States.
A news item that didn't appear at all to my knowledge was something FAR FAR GREATER. Yesterday - and we should all note the date, as something truly historic occurred - 85 Immams, Rabbis and Christian clerics met in Paris. Many of these came from Israel and the Palestinian territories to discuss 'new actions' to promote peace in the Middle East. Individual Immams, some from places like Iran, were seen talking peaceably and amicably to individual Rabbis, some from Israel. All were saying the same thing. As individuals they never get to speak to one another. They discovered they all wanted the same thing, without exception. They wanted to build bridges across the world, to speak to each other, to understand each other. All understood that most global troubles were caused by a complete lack of understanding of each other's beliefs and mindsets - all caused by A LACK OF COMMUNICATION.
As a new secular year approaches, may all individuals of the world communicate one-to-one with each other, appreciate each other's customs and beliefs, and work together for peace.
In Paris yesterday, 15th December 2008, something quite remarkable started. Let us hope it continues. Amen.