Reminiscent of Peter Mayle’s A Year in Provence, Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris by Sarah Turnbull was an enjoyable read.
When asked how she came up with the book’s provocative title, she said – “It’s tongue-in-cheek. It sums up the main theme… expatriates’ struggle with identity and their sense of belonging. On the one hand, after eight years in France, I’ve adopted some French customs and I’ve been very influenced by French ways of thinking. Yet I don’t feel French at all and I know I never will. If anything, as each year passes I feel more Australian. This permanent state of only ever being ‘almost’ French – never ‘entirely’ or ‘completely’ – is really the essence of my book.”
Makes me want to return, but for a much longer time, next time.
Our older son proposed to his wife on the second level of the Eiffel Tower at night. How romantic! A co-worker taught him enough French to ask Bettina to marry him. Nice photo of you both. See you this summer.
Wow! That is romantic! And took a lot of planning, too!
Do you seriously think summer will ever come?
I lived and worked in France many (many) years ago. I never felt as I was becoming France, but France always felt like home and my life there still influences my life now.
I understand what you are saying. After moving cross-country many, many years ago, and trying to fit into a new culture, I think I would have to move to France for the remainder of my life to feel a smidgen of France in me!