Off on my summer vacation (but no PTO!)

Trains, planes and automobiles: Vive les vacances!

Bonjour, c’est Véro.

US-bound and loving it

In the morning I will be hopping on a TGV that will whisk me to Charles de Gaulle airport in about 80 minutes. Hail to French high-speed trains, my favorite way to travel. At Roissy (that’s what the French call that overwhelming hub inaugurated in the 1970s) I will wait for my flight to Chicago to be reunited enfin (finally) with my American-born son. I last saw Junior in Paris when he visited for the Holidays, a family tradition. Later this week I will also get to discover the city where he settled down a year ago after graduating from college, Minneapolis.

I’ve never been to Minneapolis or the Midwest. The tourist in me is pretty excited about discovering a new North American city. Excited. There, I said it. Digression #1: Kindly ignore tutorials by experts on all things French telling you my countrymen don’t have an expression for “excited.” Some people spend too much time in Paris methinks where acting blasé seems to be a prerequisite to signing the lease for your first overpriced, diminutive apartment (and the next!)

“Je suis impatiente de découvrir Minneapolis.” “J’ai hâte de voir Minneapolis.” Wait. Another one. “Je meurs d’envie de découvrir Minneapolis.” Should I go on?

An Americanized French woman in France

When I returned to France in 2019 after living in the US for 23 years (25 if you add that college year in Atlanta, GA) I knew French life would never be the same. I was right. Living in another culture for years had me realize there were different ways of doing things, some of which I liked (and adopted) others I disliked (and promptly left behind.)

Digression #2 (and note to self:) This would make such a fun story to write, a listicle, preferably. “Top 10 things I loved in the US.” “Top 10 things I despised in the US.” Social media would lap it up. Social media loves short cuts and listicles. Maybe later.

Americanized, oui, un peu. I admit it.

I am a French woman who enjoys public speaking and can be loud in public places when I get, you know, excited. “Pourquoi tu cries?” (Why are you shouting?) my brother blurted out in a restaurant a few months after I returned as he sat next to me.

I am a French woman who prefers her drinks chilled, requesting more ice cubes (“des glaçons, s’il vous plaît et ne soyez pas timide!”) crunching the last one in front of my horrified French friends with the smile of the matou (cat) that got the cream.

I am a French woman with an entrepreneurial streak (inherited from my paternal grand-father.) Another good story for later. As a child I launched my first business in a small southern town selling blackberries along the beach in the summer. Once in the US I couldn’t believe how easy it was to start a small business. I had successfully run two when I launched France with Vero in 2020 in the middle of a pandemic.

In France I am self-employed. France with Vero. Worldwide HQ: Tours, Loire Valley. Headcount: 1.

PTO, long, leisurely weekends are not part of the deal. I see the puzzled looks on friends or relatives’ faces when I tell them I haven’t taken a real vacation in a year (July 2023: What a blessed week that was!) It’s summer. My countrymen are busy planning “la pause estivale” (their extended break) or are already gone. “Tu travailles trop” (You work too much) is what I often hear.

To some I may be a strange, hybrid being they don’t always understand or relate to. (“And why does she only write in English… in France?”)

Well the Frenchies are all going to be so impressed. I am off in the morning for a 10-day break (Quel luxe!) followed by a work event with fellow tour guides in the Seattle area.

Seattle, my old adopted home. It’s been almost two years since my last visit. Will nostalgia hit? Will the sun shine above the Emerald City and the Puget Sound? Will salmon still fly at Pike Place Market? On verra. Wait and see.

J’ai hâte.

A bientôt.

Véro

Junior, “Maman” and les Dogs somewhere outside Seattle, a lifetime ago