We have arrived
Our three-month French adventure begins.
Preface: Just a quick note to let you know that this post is a wee bit all over the place. There’s a ton to catch you up on, and I am still jetlagged and a bit scattered. I hope you’ll bear with me! For less meandering posts, check out these babies:
Now on with the show…..
Ah, it’s good to be back in France. My shoulders have already dropped a few inches away from my ears, and I’m soaking up all the gorgeous sights and conversations I can barely understand.
We got to Paris on Friday morning, dropped off our luggage at La Belle Juliette, our go-to boutique hotel in the 6th arrondissement, and hit the streets, bleary-eyed and hungry (sorry, Air France, but your “breakfast” — a cold, hard roll and sugary yogurt— is an afront to French cuisine).
After a stroll through the Luxembourg gardens, lunch at Bread and Roses, and window shopping, we napped, showered, and set off again down rue du Cherche Midi in search of sustenance.
I had booked dinner at The Crying Tiger, a Thai spot a few blocks from our hotel. We figured we’d soon be up to our eyeballs in duck confit and Camembert, so why not kick things off with something spicy and Asian? It did not disappoint, especially the cold vermicelli noodles with mango, lime, and cacahuètes (peanuts).
On Saturday, we took le Metro to Le Sancerre, a buzzing café in the Marais, for un apéro with two of my funny, smart, kick-ass Substack pals, Romy (Sober Girl in Paris) and Lisa (Laughing Matters), and their equally charming husbands.
I had admired them from a distance, and meeting them IRL was even better than expected (zero awkward small talk and so many laughs and bonding over menopause, French culture, writing, changing careers, and midlife hijinks).
The husbands hit it off too, so much so they swapped WhatsApp numbers. Honestly, what are the chances? I could have stayed there all night, but I know we will all meet again, and we’re already plotting some collabs (as the kids say).
***
Crap, I buried the lede.
We got our long-stay visas! Yes, it was a pain in the neck, but I know it’s just the tip of the French bureaucratic iceberg, so we may as well get used to it.
The hardest part? Figuring out exactly what documents we needed, deciphering what counts as “acceptable” health insurance, nailing the timing for the mandatory medical exam, and proving we had three months of housing lined up. But we did it!
It feels surreal to be here for this long. Of course, my mind is buzzing with the usual smorgasbord of neurotic, anxious worries. Who would I even be without that constant din in my head? Good thing we have two weeks of intense French language classes (STARTING TOMORROW!!!) to distract me.
Much more to come very soon…including dispatches from Dijon, Rouen, the Opal Coast, and Lille. For now, I’m heading off to sleep in our teeny, tiny bed at the Airbnb in Dijon. Good thing I’m small.
A bientôt
Sacha
P.S. how freakin’ adorable is this boîtes à livres at a park in Dijon?
Glad you are in France. But why do you need a visa for a 3 month stay?
Bienvenue 💕 I hope Bordeaux is part of your itinerary 😉