Our swallows are finally here. They kept us waiting until the 1st of May this year, much later than normal. We were beginning to wonder if they were going to turn up at all. Swallows have been known to arrive in Limousin as early as the 21st of January (in 1991 and 2002), but usually it’s around the 20th of March that they begin to appear. They really do announce the arrival of Spring.

Our swallows are hirondelles rustiques - country swallows. As well as these, there are three other types to be found in our region of France, Limousin. They are hirondelles de rochers (rock or cliff swallows), hirondelles de rivage (bank swallows) and hirondelles de fenêtre (window swallows). All four types are protected under the nature protection act of 1976. It’s forbidden to destroy either them or their nests. You face a fine of up to €9,000 or imprisonment if you do.   more ...

Every country has its strange traditions, and France is no exception. April kicks off with the best of the lot. The first of day of the month is the day of poissons d’avril (April fish). The idea is to sneakily stick fish on people’s backs without them noticing. Not real fish, of course, but paper or fabric ones. But what on earth for? Where did this tradition, the French equivalent of the British April Fool’s Day, come from? There are several versions.

One is that it all began with a silly fish trick. Someone would be sent to the market as a joke to buy an out-of-season fish, which made them look really foolish. Even small children in food-focussed France know what food is in season when! Another idea is that the poisson element is a corruption of passion which is associated with Easter. But the most persuasive explanation goes back to the 16th century. The New Year used to begin at Easter, often around the beginning of April. However, in 1564 King Charles IX changed it to 1st January. However, in some areas the tradition of giving New Year’s presents around 1st April lingered, and because it was only the ‘false’ New Year, they gave ‘false’ presents i.e. they played tricks instead.   more ...

I love March. Rural France suddenly springs into life again as the temperatures rise. Here in Creuse we normally have long winters that last from early November until well into March. However, this year we swapped long for intense. The four weeks of le grand froid, the big freeze, were painful with temperatures down to minus 19 degrees C, and three weeks without them going anywhere near zero. January and February are usually quiet enough in the countryside, but everyone practically disappeared this year. Caiti and I visited Paris during the cold snap and life seemed to be hectic and carrying on as usual up there, despite the chilliness. That’s certainly not the case in the paysage. It’s a time of hunkering down and keeping the farm and the fire ticking over.

But that’s finished now. Tractors are rumbling round the fields again, the cows are back in the pasture, lambs are gambolling after their mothers - although not here yet.   more ...

I’m about to start on a tour of several of France’s universities with my daughter Caitlín. She’s in her last year of lycée and will be taking her baccalaureat in the summer and moving on to third level education. But what and where. She has eventually plumped for informatique (computer science) as the subject so that just leaves the where.

It’s the season of Journée Portes Ouvertes - open days at these establishments. It’s unfortunately also winter, which makes the trips dodgy at best and impossible at worst. We are meant to be going to Grenoble this weekend, but we have thick snow here and temperatures in the region of minus 16 are forecast for there. So it may not happen.
meteorologically challenged time of year, the JPOs of necessity clash with each other. Each Saturday between mid January and mid March sees half a dozen or so of them taking place.   more ...

As well as being eternally associated with croissants, wine, frogs’ legs and berets, say “France” and a lot of people immediately think “nuclear energy”. And rightly so. France is the world’s largest net exporter of electricity, to the tune of 3 billion euros worth each year, as well as providing 75% of its own power from that source. Apparently, because of the nuclear element, France has Europe’s lowest cost electricity, but it doesn’t always seem like that from our end! Power prices seem to rise wincingly fast these days. Sensibly France hasn’t suffered from the anti-nuclear knee-jerk reactions of other European countries in the wake of the Japanese Fukushima Daiichi disaster, and is firmly sticking with its nuclear programme.

So where does the other quarter of France’s electricity come from? Until 2005, it came pretty much equally from hydroelectricity and thermique à flamme i.e. oil, coal or gas-fired power stations, but now the latter is falling back and a significant contribution is coming from éoliennes - wind turbines. And that’s set to rise.   more ...

Expat Christmases are always culturally confused. This year will be our sixth Noël in France, and, as usual, for us it will be a mish-mash of English, Irish and French traditions. The English element comes from myself and husband Chris, who lived in various parts of the UK until 1992. The Irish ingredients stem from the children’s childhoods, which were spent in Ireland until Benjamin was 14, Caitlin 11 and Ruadhri 4. Then we came over to France in 2006 and have all soaked up the Christmassy customs here.

Are there really that many differences between the way Christmas is celebrated in three countries that are separated by only small stretches of water? Actually, yes!

First up, there’s the religious element. In Ireland it’s at the heart of celebrations in schools. Carols and nativity plays abound. But in France it’s taboo. Our local Expat-French integration asso made the mistake of inviting a school from the town to sing at our yearly carol service held in the church. The request was met with the terse reply that this wasn’t allowed. Christmas concerts at schools are studiously secular with non-festive plays and songs the order of the day. And in abundance - one of Ruadhri’s spectacles went on for 4 hours. In France the general rule is the longer something goes on for, then the better it is!   more ...