La Bloggerie

At some point in the last three weeks the school has decided that the slightly military marching style of the new ’school bell’ was not working. It might have proved a bit too stimulating for the students, who doubtless stormed the classrooms looking for confrontation.

It must have been a difficult decision to make. Anything too relaxed would also have given the wrong message, though the teacher staying with us would probably appreciate a slightly more docile bunch of 15 year olds in front of her.

Their final choice of music for the hourly blast through the tannoy system is brilliantly conceived. It’s a tinkly jingle, played on a xylophone, which sounds for all the world like an ice cream van. A sound that in England used to bring children running in anticipation, and doubtless is having the same effect here.

Three weeks in the UK was always going to seem like a long time, and whilst it was great to see our children and friends, every journey there leaves us more convinced that moving to France was the right decision.

It’s not just the weather. There’s the fact that Christmas seemed to have started even before we got there. And there’s still 5 weeks to go.

The doom-ridden financial climate didn’t help, with M&S holding a sale and Woolworth’s looking decidedly short of stock.

The property market in France has become static, but the downturn seemed to have hit the British market harder. A house we sold four years ago had risen in value by over 25%, only for the price to have fallen back this year to what we originally got for it.

But the biggest downer about being in the UK is still the traffic, whether trying to drive anywhere, or trying to park when you get there. It’s hell on wheels, and I can’t see how it is going to get any better.

Only a couple of weeks after our road trip to Spain and we’re on the move again.  This time it’s to visit family in England.

It’s a journey we make every year at least once, but it never ceases to amaze us just how easy it is to drive in France in comparison with driving on English roads.  We joke that you get off the ferry in Dover and join the queue for London. 

Only the joke is wearing a bit thin now.   The drive through France to Calais is almost exactly 500 miles and can be done in 8 hours.  You can go long periods of time without encountering other traffic.  Since our arrival in England we have covered some 200 miles and rarely have we been more than 20 feet from another car.

Is it worse now than it was four years ago when we were living here?  Or am I just getting less tolerant, having been softened up by the slower pace of life and the abundant space in the Charente?