Bonjour, ca va ?
Firstly, enchanté, nice to meet you! Merci for having a read!
As I procrast-gaze out my window while writing this inaugural edition of Café, s’il vous plaît, I feel like I am addressing a completely different audience to the one I initially envisaged when the seeds of this project were planted many moons ago (i.e. pre-COVID times). People are scuttling about masked, hurriedly trying to tick off errands before the government-regulated 6pm curfew sends everyone home.
But in many ways the undercurrents of the Paris we all love are still flowing strongly. Much to the chagrin of the government, but to the relief of shops, Parisians are out in numbers for the soldes (the bi-annual sale period)—albeit this time they are queuing (the French! Queuing in a straight line! Who would have thought?) and socially distanced. Some bistros are open for takeaway drinks and, in a collective effort to keep the national pastime of l’aperitif alive, locals are gathering in the proximity to share a drink in a sort of makeshift terrasse.
So despite COVID-19 it still feels right to name this newsletter, a guide to expat life in Paris, Café, s’il vous plait. It’s the iconic phrase that Parisians recite daily as they take their seat (during non-pandemic times) at one of the city’s infamous outward-facing bistro terrasses to simply be present and watch the world go by. It’s the definition of the French bon vivant. And it’s also the one phrase that expats can easily master upon arrival in an attempt to sound local. (In turn, it leads to many an expat being hyper-caffeinated—I for one can no longer stomach coffee as a result of drinking too much of the terrible Café Richard that is served in French bistros.)
Twice a month (maybe more if I’m feeling particularly inspirée) expect a newsletter that’s a half anecdotal/half informative guide on how to crack life in Paris. I hope to cover all kinds of topics from the spicy—like how to buy decent wine from a French supermarket and dating culture in Paris—to the mundane, such as opening a French bank account and how to file your taxes. And if restaurants, bars, museums or any of the things that make Paris fun ever reopen (sigh, COVID), I’ll be sure to share my hot tips on how to profiter.
It’s tough as a foreigner settling in France. I get it, I’ve been there and in many ways—10 years later—I still am there. Despite speaking the language fluently and having constructed a whole life in Paris, I still don’t feel French and maybe never will. But I hope through this newsletter I can make things a little easier for any expat readers because the city is truly fantastique once you coax it open. And for those of you not in France but tuning in because you’re a self-confessed Francophile or just looking for a way to travel vicariously from lockdown wherever you are in the world, I hope I can bring a bit of lumière to your days direct from the City of Lights.
En attendant the next issue, I’ll leave you with this haunting yet pitch-perfect portrait of life in Paris right now from the New York Times as well as a column on why everyone loves to blame France that had me chortling in agreement.
A la prochaine!