Blogpost 6.6.24

I’ m writing this onboard the ferry, looking out over a sunny and calm English Channel, and using Notes rather than WordPress direct, as I’m offline. I’ll upload later, and add photos accordingly.

Going back to the UK into what’s likely to be the maelstrom of election season, it occurs to me I haven’t really done much political commentary. That doesn’t mean I haven’t been thinking about it. I got into conversation with a couple in a VW camper: 22plate but with IRL marking and flag. I’d almost followed them but then noticed they were in the EU, EEE, etc passport lane. After politely admiring each others campers, as you do, it emerged they had got Irish passports after Brexit. They also had an EU flag, with hearts, as a sticker on the rear. I realised I was still furious with the blatant election misfeasance that happened.

But what about France, I hear you cry? What was it like? Well, pretty well run on the whole; and there is a an accent (another one!) on the quality of life that frankly puts the anglophone world to shame. Everywhere in the tourist regions there are clutches of aged grannies and grandads, wandering about; cycling along; going off to lunch together, or being supported by younger members to do the same. In every small town and village there is a health centre, adequately staffed, and supported by diagnostic centres and hospitals. 

Sports facilities – and they include camping in this – are equally part of municipal provision, and not just because it’s the Paris Olympics. Roads are on the whole well maintained, with traffic calming in most villages. My route this morning took me on backroads from Neufchâtel to Dieppe: every village had 30kph zones, especially near bus stops and zebra crossings.

What is dawning on me, especially after talking to Roger and Sarah, (the last of my calling card visits), was the effect that French education has had on its citizenry. Every young person who undertakes the Bac, and I don’t have figures but I think it’s the expectation rather than the exception, studies a broad range of subjects, now including a specialism including Drama. Roger’s son was in a play last night, as part of his Bac. But they all study philosophy; as a result, they are introduced to critical thinking, and are quite prepared to debate and discuss. Sarah’s background, as an artist, and with a Jewish heritage, was fully on board with the opportunity to study and debate, and I enjoyed her company. (I told her about our family Friday night dinners, and she told me I should put a challah loaf on the table!)

And the French do debate. Even the Frenchman who took exception to having his dry washing removed from the tumble dryer (by me as it happened), turned his objections into a debate (also my first argument in French) :

Angry Frenchman: Who has done this? I was only five minutes late! Only five minutes I say!

Me: That would be me. It happens on every camping I have been on!

AF: No, monsieur, that is not the case! That never happens! Never!

OK, so maybe not as empiricist as the English, but well argued. He was also an arsehole anyway, the rest of us agreed.

Noticeable too, across France, was the inverted place signs. Place signs have a particular place in French culture: they indicate a commune (= parish plus mayor) and also, Waze reminds me constantly, function as a 50kph speed sign. Rosie was constantly reminding me “You’re in a Place!” To remove them would be a serious piece of vandalism, and probably incur a serious stretch at some penal colony in the Outremers. However, to turn it upside down just makes the point: it’s a protest by farmers against policy u-turns by central and European government; who are, in the idiom, “On their heads”. Hence the signs can only be read by officialdom.

The other thing I learned was the place of Laïcité in French culture, much more nuanced than back home. I’ve seen handbooks given to each child in France explaining how the constitution works, written by former president Francois Hollande. As well as Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité as the guiding lights of the Republic, they have added Laïcité: a secular state. I have yet to discover whether this was a reaction to militant Islamist, or to the widespread abuses of the Catholic Church. In the event, the state does, begrudgingly, maintain the fabric of its many churches, as a part of the national heritage, the Patrimoine. The church is losing followers though; in Beaulieu, the big abbey church is one of twenty parishes who share a priest, who is from India.

Outside the town halls, leisure centres, and in the squares, a series of poster boards advertise the various lists for election to the EU Parliament. At the last count, 34 different lists: including four flavours of centrist, three flavours of socialist, two of ecologists, and a couple with definite fascist alignment. Whatever your considered opinion, no doubt fully debated and argued, you’ll find a set of candidates to represent you. Pragmatic it ain’t, but you have to admire the enthusiasm. This is France all over. As a state, it is a demonstration that, whatever the notional complexion of the government, democratic socialism in action is effective, and rooted in communities, where the mayor in his/her sash still conducts civil marriages. Where railways, electricity, gas, water; buses, health systems are all in some form of public ownership, and generally work well. Where debate is not only allowed but encouraged, as opposed to some other places who make great play of their attachment to Freedom, (but only in the abstract.)

And I haven’t even mentioned the wine, the cheese, the cooking!