15   57
84   140
24   179
21   136
27   149
20   239
24   132
11   161
57   247
26   360

How I know that moving to France was the right choice (for me)

I’m sitting in the garden as I write this post. It’s 22 degrees in April and I’m sipping a rum and coke while listening to birds singing. I’ve just been and collected wood from the woodshed, though it’s unlikely we’ll need a fire tonight. And much like the content of my posts on Instagram earlier this week, I’m feeling really content.

This is why I moved to France.

Ginger asleep in the garden

Okay, I know I joke about bread being the reason – but really what I was searching for on leboncoin for all those months was the prospect of putting down my worries about life, even if just for some of the time.

I’m not retired, I do work. And as much as I love my job it is work, and I try my hardest to do it well. The years of coasting in my IT career are behind me, and as my own boss I work harder for myself than I ever have before.

But that’s okay, because I choose it.

Im sitting here thinking about what it is that France gives me that has made it so easy for me to find contentment after only four months as a French resident. Part of it is no doubt the beautiful countryside and lovely weather, even in spring. But I think actually it’s the more subtle differences that are impactful – like the fact that every person I meet beyond the threshold of my front door says “bonjour” to me. That neighbours have been so welcoming and polite – stopping to speak or doing favours instead of avoiding eye contact on the front drive or worse – and this happened in Bristol SO much – totally ignoring us even when we said hello. I feel valued here. Even by strangers. I don’t think I have felt that before, which is a terribly sad thing to think when I have lived all over the south of the UK in cities, towns and village settings. Maybe I should have been in the north.

Haute Vienne countryside

My friend visiting last week asked “Is it enough?” referring to our very rural, quiet lifestyle. And I can honestly say, yes it is. I get to spend time with the person that I love every day. We get to eat meals together – something I was never able to do with our conflicting work schedules in Bristol – we have every weekend off. We don’t aspire to spending 24/7 with each other, but it’s nice to have the choice. I get to speak French everyday, something which I have longed to do always. I get to drive on quiet roads, listen to my music really loud. I get to host new friends for dinner and drinks, I get to spend time in my garden and eat outdoors almost every day at the moment. I have my work which gives me purpose and I no longer have a life that I need holidays to escape from.

I really love my life now. It’s not perfect, it never will be. But it’s good enough, and I’ll take that.

Me, feeling very content living in France

The big furniture delivery to our new home in France

My intentions to blog earlier this month were unfortunately scuppered by developing a really bad case of la grippe (flu!), followed by my mandatory bout of bronchitis. As someone who had whooping cough as a child, I find most decent colds or flu go this way, I don’t know about anyone else…

Nonetheless, the last few weeks have been pivotal in our move – we received (most of) our items from the UK via our British delivery courier. No longer are we using the strange mid-90s furniture that we inherited when we bravely/crazily (delete as appropriate!) moved into our 1930’s traditional French home in the middle of January and the deep snow of the French winter.

Delivery Day

We’ve spent weeks unpacking, and still have a few boxes lurking in the kitchen while we work on our storage system. Right now we have four cupboards and very limited kitchen work surface, so my partner has identified some decent looking wood that the previous owner left in the top woodshed, and he’s brought it down to make some shelves. Hopefully once this – and a few more – are made we will be free of wading through cardboard to get to the dinner table!

Outside, the good weather has returned and with it my desire to get out in the garden. One of the highlights of our furniture delivery was the receipt of all of our plants. I was really upset on the day of the move – what seems a million years ago now, but in reality, was just December 2018 – because we didn’t have enough room to bring any plants whatsoever. Our lovely Bristol neighbours very kindly agreed to look after them for us until they could be collected by the courier, and so they joined our furniture in the big delivery. Last night over a glass of wine my fiancé and I pondered the new locations for our various plants. We’ve made some decisions and I’m sure I’ll be taking some pictures later on as they go into the ground and when they come into their own in flower in a few weeks. I’m really excited about that.

For now, I’m preparing to get out to the potager – well, to first create the potager, all we have at the moment is lawn. So I’ve pegged out the space that I’m going to use (thanks for all of your input on where to put our beds on my Instagram stories!) and will get the tiller out shortly to get that lovely french soil ready for use. Wish me luck!

Lx

 

Subscribe to the Frugal France newsletterFor more information, offers and French bargains!