Aurelia dAndrea - Moon Living Abroad France

AURELIA DANDREA

Poet T. S. Eliot cautioned, The chief danger about Paris is that it is such a strong stimulant. The same wonderful warning can be applied to all of France, where the everyday sensory experience borders on extravagant. Throughout the country, breathtaking architecture that stretches back to the Middle Ages sets the fairytale tone. Add the luscious scent of warm bread rising in a boulangers oven, toss in the sound of a distant church bell ringing, and finish with a smattering of outdoor markets bursting with all the colors of the rainbow, and you have a solid sense of the sort of stimulation lHexagone has to offer.

As worthy of superlatives as this complex country may be, France is much more than a delicious carnival for the senses. For the roughly 150,000 North American expatriates who call France home, at least part of the countrys allure is its renowned quality of life: relaxed, engaged, and fine-tuned to simple pleasures. The French way of living isnt perfect, but its pretty darn close.

On any day in hundreds of hamlets, villages, and urban metropolises throughout the country, you can follow the yeasty aroma of baking baguettes down a crooked cobblestone alleyway and wind up standing before a dazzling display of culinary wizardry: shiny fruit tartstheir buttery crusts pinched to perfectionsitting in neat little rows between caramel-and-whipped-cream religieuses and meringue-topped tartes au citron.

Your eyes feast on the tempting patisserie until a familiar melody from a distant accordion coaxes you out of your sugary reverie. Drifting away on an clair-scented cloud, you hear the music grow louder. Rounding a corner, you spy the source: a mustachioed man in a striped fishermans sweater, tapping and squeezing a heartstring-tugging rendition of La Vie en Rose, a beret at his feet awaiting the toss of a few coins.

Up the street, past the fleuriste, the crmerie, and the 13th-century cathedral, the warm glow of a caf summons you indoors. From behind the zinc bar, the owner calls out, Bonjour, mademoiselle! (You can always tell if hes flirting by whether he addresses you as mademoiselle or madame.) You make a beeline for the terrace to take in the last rays of sunshine on this fading spring afternoon.

A hyperbolized rendering of a day in your French life? As disarming as it may seem, the truthful answer is a definitive non. Even as it struggles to adapt to 21st-century growing painsan aging population, stagnant birth rates, and burgeoning unemploymentFrance rises to the challenge while retaining the traditions that give the country its flavor.

Stimulating? Absolument. Survey the expatriate community, and odds are people will tell you that the danger Eliot warned us against is a risk worth taking.

The fact that chocolatein the form of tartine spread, cereal, a stuffed croissant, or a hot drinkis an entirely acceptable way to start the day.

Those first glorious, sunshiny days of spring, when even the frowniest Parisians cant help but smile as they bask in the sun at terrace cafs across the city.

The way every two-year-old child gleefully cries out petit chien! as I stride past with my dog.

Stepping out of my neighborhood boulangerie with a still-warm baguette tucked under my arm.

The genuine feelings of solidarity among French men and women in times of national trouble.

Sampling regional specialties like Alsatian wines, Perigordine truffles, and the fruits confits from Provence and the Cte dAzur in the name of cultural exploration.

The freedom that comes with knowing that Copenhagen, London, the Italian Riviera, and Budapest are within a two-hour journey from Paris.

Buying hot chestnuts and mulled wine from street vendors at Christmastime.

Unabashed topless septuagenarians sunbathing at the public swimming pool.

Brocantes (antiques markets), marchs aux puces (flea markets), and vide-greniers (rummage sales), where scoring secondhand treasures is a popular weekend sport.

Mid-November, when all of France gets gussied up with twinkling lights, decorated trees, and marchs de Nol that usher in the holiday season.

Conversations with friends over perfectly quaffable 3 glasses of ros at a local bar vins.

The first Sunday of every month, when many museums in Paris (including the Louvre, the dOrsay, and Pompidou) are open to the public for free.

There are many ways to describe 21st-century France, but the most fitting might be traditional. The French cling to their customs with an unrivaled tenacity for reasons as mysterious to foreigners as they are to the locals themselves. Ask why, and youre likely to be met with a rote Cest comme athats just the way it is. Progress can wait, the French seem to be saying. Whats the big hurry?

Change tends to make the French feel a bit uneasy, so forward motion takes place at an Operation Escargot pace. But it is those same timeless, traditional values that attract many of us to France. The French have earned a global reputation for having mastered the art of living, and they deserve it. In a manner that elicits envious sighs around the world, they continue to show us that balancing work and home life isnt just a dream. Here, the motto seems to be work to live, and live la belle vie. This is particularly evident at lunchtime, when construction crews and suited-up office workers from Picardie to Provence file into homey brasseries to relish their perfectly quotidian three-course lunches