Does it measure up?

Some American friends who are considering a move to France were passing through Carcassonne so we invited them to lunch. The idea was to incorporate local products in a traditional menu to make the meal as French as possible. We solicited ideas from the neighbors and while there was quite a range of suggestions for starters and the main course, the same dessert kept popping up: Tarte Tatin. I’d always thought of this as an apple version of a pineapple upside down cake—caramelize the apples in butter and sugar, add a crust, bake and flip. Finding the Granny Smiths was easy enough since several stalls at the market had them including two vendors selling directly from their orchards. Choosing a recipe was more of a challenge given that we were presented with words like “the best…unmissable…fast and easy…classic.” Bill found one that he liked and upon closer examination it said to add in environ ½ verre à moutarde of sugar. How much is a “mustard glass” let alone “about half” of it?

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What’s the Point?

The magazine article headline that caught my eye was “A New Neighborhood is Being Built in Utah That Looks Like a European ‘One-Car Town’”. This told the story of developing a 600 acre (243 hectares) site in Draper, UT into a pedestrian-friendly town with favor given to bike lanes over cars. Author Andy Corbley said that this was like something he might see in the Netherlands. Realizing that potential residents could balk at going completely car-free, the developers are focused on making the use of an automobile unnecessary within the confines of the community. At least 45% of the city will be covered by greenery including sidewalks, bike paths, and roads that lead to the perimeter bus system with connections to Salt Lake City. Hikers and cyclists will have easy access to the river parkway and to the mountain trail system. In describing the target market, one of those developers said, “They want more urban features, they want to know their neighbors, they want to be part of a community.” Hmm, sounds like us. By the way, this new town is called The Point.

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Hidden Montpellier

When we return to a city that we’ve already visited, it’s fun to seek out the less well known sites that are still interesting to see. We did so with Bordeaux and that revealed several links back to revolutionary America that I don’t think we ever learned in history class. Now it was time to discover what we missed on our first visit to Montpellier. The featured photo across the top of today’s blog post is one of the best known spots in the city, La Place de la Comédie, but even it holds a secret. Here to the left is a closeup of one of the buildings there that the locals know as the scaphandrier, a word I’d never seen before to describe something that is viewed but perhaps not noticed by thousands of people every day.

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Where there’s a will

Both of us have a Last Will and Testament on file back in the US where they were drawn up by an attorney familiar with those types of documents. They would be legal in France, although the practicality of executing them here might be challenging. For one thing, they are written in English and while we have copies with us that could be officially translated, they still might need authenticating back through the county clerk’s office where they are on file. To make things easier for one of us (or if we’re both gone, someone else entirely) in the future, we decided to visit a notaire and have him create a Testament for each of us. After all, we live in France and any assets that are left will be donated to a charity here in town so it just made sense, but where would we start?

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Retirement runner-up

Coming in second out of 242 isn’t bad. That’s the position that Carcassonne achieved in a “where to live after retirement” study conducted by the newspaper Le Parisien. They compared cities of more than 20,000 inhabitants outside the capital region of Île-de-France, evaluating around 30 different factors that would be important to the 75,000 French retirees who move each year. The authors readily admit that they were unable to account for emotional factors such as returning to where you grew up, settling in an area that’s near your adult children or where you already have friends or where you’ve always enjoyed visiting. After 25 years of annual vacations in France, that last point rang true for us.

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Saturday night at the movies

It had been 10 years since we had been inside a movie theater. It’s not that we don’t like films; in fact, just the opposite. In the last house we owned in the US we converted part of the basement to a home cinema with a 10-foot wide screen that we enjoyed at least every weekend. In those days DVDs arrived weekly in the mail plus there were kiosks a short drive away that frequently offered a free rental just to get you to try (or retry) their service so we always had an ample supply to watch. To see something that had not yet been released to the home market, however, meant that we had to go to our local multiplex and our last few experiences there convinced us that we’d be happier waiting until it was available to see on our own screen. At times it felt as if more people in the audience were watching their cell phones than the big screen and talking to their seatmates about the latest news flash on social media. A couple of weeks ago we decided to see how going to the movies in France might compare. 

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Happy “apéro” hour

On their way through the south of France, friends Pete and Cameron stopped in Carcassonne, fresh from the Spanish Basque Country that shares a lot of history and culture with its French counterpart right across the border. One of those traditions that they enjoyed was an afternoon aperitivo that included a glass of vermouth made in a town not far from where they were staying. Knowing how much we like taking a picnic on the train, they created a takeout version of the aperitif to share with us and in the photo to the left you can see the result. The gift bag included a bottle of Ugabe vermouth from Artea, an orange to slice for the glass, green olives, and potato chips just as it had been served at a Spanish café. That prompted me to read up on this “before dinner” pause that we knew as an apéro.

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