It's a Scary Thought

After obsessing over My Road to France for about six months, and with the help of this blog to clear my head and sort things out, I find myself with doubt. 

This whole thing is at best, 1035 days off. I can make up my mind much much later. 

I discovered a crack in the painting on the ceiling in the foyer. We actually cannot reach that part of the house. We need a huge tall ladder. It’s like, 20 some feet up. And it has to be fixed in order to sell this house. And the chandelier; we haven't been able to reach the chandelier for cleaning (same location, flaw in our design). So we need that ladder anyway. 

The ladder we need to clean the chandelier and fix the ceiling is $800. That’s why I didn’t buy it before when we were looking. 

We could rent a ladder, but then we have to get it here. 

And we could use a 20’ ladder to clean the lights in the barn, and maybe those walls too. 

Ugh I don’t want to buy a ladder. 

As I look out off the back deck I ponder what life in Europe will be like. My personal space; my home, my "garden" will be so much smaller. There will be noise from the village. These are all things that drove me to the country in the first place. Am I going to like living there? If we sell our house there is no way we would ever be able to find something like this again. All my space; my green woods, the green pastures, the large rooms in my house (that is getting way too big for us now anyway since two boys have left). I won't be able to come back. But then, I don't want to come back to here anyway. 

Do I? 

Will I regret leaving all of this? 

Can I leave my children behind? People do this, right? Or perhaps vice versa - their children leave them. I think I'm pretty ok with all of that as long as they are doing ok, but it will be weird not being able to hop in the car and drive 45 minutes to go see them. 

And I not-so-secretly hope they will find a way to follow us anyway. 

So, I'm getting cold feet. 

Thus and therefore, it is time to look at some pretty pictures to remind me of why I want to immerse myself in a new culture; a different kind of spaciousness, a different kind of lifestyle. New adventures. New trails to conquer. Beach, forest, mountain, lake bistro, cafe, boulangerie, patisserie.

There are two locations that catch my gaze right now. The first is Talloires, France, which is a town on Lac d'Annecy (Lake Annecy), a lovely mountain lake refuge. 

The idea of a mountain lake provides me everything I think I want: I love the water. And, I love the mountains. 

I love water because, well, I grew up near water and have always enjoyed swimming. But even more than that, water cleanses my soul somehow. It brings me peace when I am at war with myself. It has always done this for me. 

As do the trees, but in a softer, more subtle, slower way. Water fixes me up immediately. I have to spend time with the trees to get rooted again. 

Mountains. I have not really spent a lot of time in the big mountains but whenever I have I have enjoyed the expansive vista and the ability to see SO FAR AWAY. It's like this limitless, untouchable, infinite feeling that I cannot quite grasp and so it holds my interest. 

A mountain lake, like Lake Annecy, is surrounded by small (ish) mountains, so day hikes of varying difficulty would abound. 

And the town is so pretty and colorful, according to the photos. 

The other area is Servoz, which is very close to Chamonix and, maybe, a little bit more affordable for us, yet within driving distance to beautiful Mont Blanc and the Chamonix Valley.

This is Noah conquering a rock on the ascent to Lac Blanc in 2014 (that time when I fell in love with France, which led to falling in love with the idea of living in France). 

SEE WAY OVER to the other side? Across the valley to the mountains on the other side? There are glaciers and mountain peaks that look like they are at the same height as we are but they are SO MUCH higher. 

And the mountain air. Oh gosh. So refreshing. Clean. Clear. Open. Invigorating. If you climb a mountain there is no way you can do it without getting a really great workout; you are always going up. Up and over the next hill, always something new to see because you NEVER reach the top ... unless you are a professional and have all the gear and everything and take several days, which is completely unnecessary for my purposes. 

Aiguilles Du Midi  - yeah, I took that picture! Isn't it awesome? There is a lookout at the top that we neglected to go to, so I have to remedy that next time. 

I told Noah, when we went to France, that the danger in traveling to far away and amazing places is that it can make your current life seem small and boring, and to be careful about this; not allow your current life to become small and boring just because you saw something new. 

I thought I was being wise when I told him this.

Here I am in front of Le Dru. There is a huge glacial valley between where I'm standing and the actual mountain peak, but it looks so close, doesn't it? 

Le Dru is my favorite mountain in the Chamonix Valley. I don't know why, but it is. 

And on the way to Le Dru we stopped by this amazing, quiet lake called Lac Bleu. We took the cable up Lac Bleu and walked over to Le Dru. It was a beautiful walk and we saw so many beautiful sites; flowers, rivulets, rocks. Stopping for lunch on a big rock and just peacefully becoming one with the space. Gazing out at the other side of the valley to the mountains we had climbed earlier in the week.

So, that is a taste of the mountain scene. Looks kind of cold and vast and gray. Very alpine. And it is of course. That must be why they make the towns in the valleys SO ADORABLE!

And then, there is the sea. I love the sea. The sound of the water on the rocks as it rushes back to the sea, popping all the tiny air bubbles in between the rocks. I found it so comforting. 

It would be just a drive away and a long weekend. 

It's Not as Bad as I Thought. Alternately Titled: Two Showers a Day are Sometimes Required

La Grange.

The Barn.

I expected worse, having not lifted a pitchfork in over two years. But we are down to seven animals so they aren't making nearly the mess 28 did ten years ago.

The work has begun. I much prefer to trade my P90 daily workout for cleaning the barn. As much as I like the way I feel and look when I regularly do my exercises, I really, absolutely, hate institutionalized exercise.

My course is now set.

Today, the far end of the aisle was cleared, as well as the large enclosure at the end.

Next will be the "diet" pen, a narrow enclosure where we used to keep chubby llamas that needed less food than the others.

After that I will begin working on the larger llama pen. That's going to be a chunk of work; I figure if I spend 30 minutes a day (instead of my P90 workout - yay!) I can get through it pretty quick.

In May we are going to rearrange the horses with the male llama, freeing up another stall for cleaning.

Jim has to do the horse stall. That may take him all summer. Truly, maybe longer. It's pretty heaped up (that would be the manure; horses are big animals).

The current plan is to keep the animals for one more year. Partly because it will be so weird without them; partly because we have enough hay for one more winter.

Some of the llamas, well, actually, all of the llamas are getting old. Legacy has been creaking since we got her in 2004. Both she and Cappy are 18 years old. Irridessa is 12 and Sunny is 13.

Our last male, Skippy, is 11 and I co-own him with someone. Maybe she'll take him back?

For the horses, Sam is 23 and has been struggling to keep weight on for two years now. Jet is 13 and never been kissed.


We are going to have to either purchase a huge tall ladder, rent one, or hire someone to clean the dust off the interior walls of our mylar-like barn. The lights, which hang from the very tall ceiling, are covered in a thick layer of dust. I remember the guy that was supposed to install them (they had a ladder) was afraid of heights and Jim had to finish up the installation.

Once the animals are gone (sad sad gone gone) we will have another year or so to clear the floor, do some repairs on the doors and fencing, and make it pretty again.

Much of my adult life has been centered around these animals. But lately my interest has waned and the chores have fallen to Jim. He who never asked for these chores has always done them with not a single complaint (other than sometimes things hurt because the work is hard).

It will be strange to look out my window, from the back deck, or front porch to 20 acres of fields grown up with grass and, eventually, weeds. This house, these fields, these animals, were my dreams come true. For those years when I gazed out into my pastures and watched these beautiful animals peacefully grazing; the years when I would spend my winter evenings in the barn cleaning the stalls, then afterward, sometimes for hours, just watching them, listening. Melding with the quiet solitude of quiet animals.

Now I have a new dream.

View to Mont Blanc, from the Aiguilles Rouges, 2014. 

Ashes to Ashes

This past weekend our foray into the basement uncovered a surprise. Although it would be fair to say that I am almost always surprised by what I find during my weekly sojourn to our basement to clear clutter and dispose of unwanted (un-needed?) memories. 

Over 30 years ago my grandparents passed away within a month of each other, leaving my mom utterly devastated. She was an only child, in a bad marriage, two of her three children off to college, and, well, just devastated and feeling very alone (I did not realize this at the time by any stretch of the imagination). 

They were cremated in Florida, where they had been living. My mom went down to get the ashes and brought them to her home where she lived until her death five years ago. My grandparents were together in a large tin; my grandfather’s ashes occupying a much larger bag than my tiny, 4’9” grandmother’s bag. Their ashes reminded me of seashells; light gray with slight pastel hues.  

They were left, in their tin, sitting on the bottom shelf of a table in one of the bedrooms for a few years. I would come home occasionally and see them and ask my mom what her plans were for them and when? Her response was always, “I’m not ready to let them go.”

If ever I was a sentimental person, that quality of my person has mostly been lost amidst the practicality of my nature. To me, the ritual of “disposing” of the ashes would have been a fun family event. An opportunity to remember, together, these wonderful people who filled our childhood with memories.

Year after year those ashes sat there. Eventually I stopped asking. Eventually they were moved to another location somewhere in the house and I forgot about them. 

When my mom was dying, Jim found the ashes up in a closet, hidden away behind many things. 

Seriously, those ashes, my grandparents’ remains, were left sitting in a closet for all these years, never to be freed! What comfort is there in that? I will never understand this.

After my mom died my sister had to move and asked me to take the ashes and I said, “No, I don’t want those ashes in my house.” There are two reasons I feel this way. 

1. The ridiculousness of the fact that the ashes were still in existence annoyed me.
2. The idea of human ashes in my house creeped me out. 

She understood and kept the ashes. 

My sister moved three or four times and the issue of the ashes never came up, other than when discussing the disposition of my mother’s ashes, which she currently has possession of. I suggested we take all the ashes to Lake Michigan, a place where we have all enjoyed being together over the years as a family. My sister said that no, my mom explicitly stated that she wanted her ashes to be put to rest in Florida. Treasure Island I believe, specifically. As far as I know my grandparents never specified where they wanted their ashes to go. I believe if I asked my sister she would say they are also supposed to go to Florida. 

The concept of my family; my brother, sister, and I, all going down to Florida, at the same time, to dispose of these ashes is almost inconceivable. I mean, we could do it, but will we? Will we all, somehow, find the time to get our collective selves down to Florida, to dispose of these ashes? It’s just not very high on any of our lists of priorities. So I don’t ask. 

This past weekend I discovered my grandparent’s ashes in my basement. In an old rusty tin. The old rusty tin was inside a large plastic bin full of my sister’s belongings that she left in our basement between one of her moves. She recently told me that anything of hers still in our basement we could dispose of as she had gone through everything and took what she wanted. I almost picked up the whole bin and put it in the “Goodwill” pile without sorting it out. But then I decided to go through it. 

Among mismatched boots, bags, and fur stoles, was a large, yellow, aging tin. Completely out of place but not surprisingly out of place. So I took a peek. Instantly I knew what I was seeing. 

My grandparents’ ashes are in my home. 

What to do now? 

By the end of the day I had declared that we were going to Lake Michigan this weekend. In my mind I see myself wading out into the frigid, icy water (hopefully not too many waves) and dumping the ashes. All by myself (Jim, dogs, and Nick on the beach minding their own business; none of them having ever met my grandparents). 

That night Jim and I discussed the idea of taking the ashes to Fox Lake, where the vast majority of my memories of my grandparents reside. They lived on Fox Lake during my entire childhood; one mile away from where I lived. We visited them frequently (as in almost daily). One time my brother and I even walked across the frozen lake to their house. 

Oh, such memories! I remember watching the rain come across the lake from the other side. And a favorite - every weekend my grandpa would take my brother and me “for a drive”. We would just drive around for an hour or so seeing the sights. I was always in the back seat, my brother in the front (is this why I always prefer to sit in the back when I go places with groups of people?). Picnics on the patio with my aunt and uncle and favorite cousin, Sheri, who also lived on Fox Lake. Taking the boat out to the island and looking for goose nests and sometimes finding them full of eggs or newly hatched chicks. Peering at the “sunken ship”, an old rowboat that sunk near the island, wondering what mystery befell this sad, sunken thing. Rowing through the canals; going through the tunnel that was full of spider webs, completely freaking me out but the other side was so worth it; a meandering magical place of quiet nature, utterly ours, not a human ever did we see. Ice skating on the frozen lake devoid of snow, the wind literally blowing me across the whole lake (it was SO cold), then hiding out in neighbor Sam’s shed to warm up so we could do it again. Christmas eves by the warm cozy fire. Etching our initials in the rafters of the attic. Putting my handprint in the cement on the patio; meant to last forever. Trying to catch a glimpse of the chipmunk that hid in the wood pile on the side of the house. The wooden swing. Boo Boo Fox, the adorable dog a few houses down.  My fishing tackle. Fishing off the dock with frozen hotdogs (works really really well). Swimming swimming swimming. Always swimming. 

Yes, that's me. I can't believe they let me drink beer at such a tender age!

 

We spent a lot of time there, creating these wonderful memories I hold deep in my heart. 

So even though, if this works out, I may only go back to Fox Lake one more time in my life, it seems appropriate that that is where they should be. Someone needs to keep safe my memories. 

We need a boat though. Just a rowboat. To row to the middle of the lake. I don’t want to stand on the bank and toss them in; they wouldn’t want that.

I want to row out to the middle of the lake and look around; it’s all changed now – their house isn’t even there anymore so I’m told – and recapture, for a few moments, those happy memories, if I can. And let them go. 

My brother and I must do this, together. It will be fun. 

Course Correction

I am officially overwhelmed. Course correction needed. 

This is so unlike me. Especially in the middle of the day. I drink, maybe, five drinks per year. Well I'm halfway through my yearly quota. 

I started researching the other (obvious) next thing to research. 

What about moving to France from Germany, assuming I am successful in finding employment there? 

My brain imploded. 

It's like a whole new ball game. I'm not even going to get into it because I have too many questions that need answering before I can start, primarily around the whole Visa thing. 

I *think* it will be easier. But I'm not sure yet. It depends on what kind of Visa I get. There are choices and my specific situation was not googleable. 

Here are some of thing things Jim and I talk about at night before bed (is this good for my sleep?): 

• What about traveling all over Europe, renting a place for one year and then moving on?
• I mean, geez, we could live in the French Alps for one year; then Paris for a year; then the French Riviera for a year; we could live in five different places in the French Alps...
• Switzerland
• Praque (not really on my list but Jim mentioned it)
• Norway (totally on the list)
• Iceland (not a year, but some duration of time)
• Ireland (not a year here either I don't think, I so love the wild ocean)
• Scotland
• Barcelona
• England
• How does the whole driving thing work if you drive through the underwater tunnel and you end up on the other side driving on the other side of the road ... with your car that is designed to drive on this side of the road???
• Do they have a lot full of cars for you to swap out with for your visit?
• HOW ON EARTH DOES THE VISA PROCESS WORK IF WE MOVE TO A DIFFERENT COUNTRY EVERY YEAR?
• If we became residents of the EU, which is possible by living in Germany for five years (again, not sure if applies to my situation), we are all set
• Now I have to learn German
• Because you have to know German to get a permanent residency in Germany
• But then we could do WHATEVER WE WANTED
• Still not sure this is possible
• Should we NOT sell our house so we have someplace with lots of space to come back to? 
• My gut says no, but it's a scary thought (just a little)
• It's comforting to know you have a home
• But the idea of being free is very compelling

Memories ... Letting Go

Schuyler was home for an overnight. He is on a gradual, slightly exponential "moving out of the house" curve. I went up to his room after he left. Another universe of things to do. What to throw away? What is he going to keep? Room needs remodeling ... new carpet, paint. All his artwork that he wants to throw away that I insist on keeping. 

If I move to a new place every year I can't bring all this stuff with me. 

If I store it will I ever really look at it again?

Don't my children want their stuff? 

No. It's just stuff. Memories. A lifetime. It always makes me sad to go through my children's histories. Remembering moments that I neglected to grasp in full at the time. Remembering moments I did grasp at the time. Either way, they are gone. Do they even remember these moments? Probably not. They are mine and mine alone. 

I went down to the basement while Jim was taking Schuyler to Lansing. It took me all of 15 minutes to fill up the dumpy with stuff. I know we have three years to get this all done. But, I'm so impatient. 

Thus, the White Russian. Drink #2 almost gone. I think there's enough vodka for one more. It's almost 2pm in the afternoon. I am so toasted for the rest of the day. 

Jim is such a good sport about all of this. He's excited too actually. It will be fun. 

I tried to take a nap and I kept thinking about how it's going to work getting my dog(s) to Europe. Monet may not go in a crate, ever, so she may not even be able to come. I imagine myself greeting my beloved Applejack at the airport. He's terrified but so glad to see me he bursts out of his crate (he doesn't like crates either but I know he'll do it). Did he manage to hold it through the night? Is he cold? Is he hot? Is he still alive?

If I figure it all out in my head will that make it easier? 

Yep, I think so. But there has got to be a limit. 

The VISA

My very most extremely least favorite thing to think, ponder, research, and talk about. It literally hurts my brain to even look at those four letters ... V... I... S... A

Partly because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it right now, other than think about it. And partly because no matter how much I think about it, it still isn't clear that I'm going to figure it out. 

As far as I can tell, here's how it goes:

1. Visit the Consulate General of France in Chicago website. 

This is kind of where I get stuck. 

At the beginning of this process I really just wanted to know if it was possible for a US citizen to successfully relocate to France. At the beginning I didn't know that the Visa was first of many challenges I would face in this endeavor.

I called the Consulate General of France in Chicago during their published hours for when people like me are allowed to call. Nobody answered so I sent an email. This was slightly more effective in that they actually responded within 48 hours. 

My question was simple, "is it possible for US citizens to relocated to France?" Except that I included a bunch of other words and questions in my email and the responder didn't see this one. But they were actually helpful. 

So I asked my more direct question one more time and the response was "some do relocate yes". 

Ok. Not super affirming or optimistic or detailed in any sort of way; the one time I want someone to tell me a story I get the one liner barely-a-sentence response that I usually wish people would just give me. 

2. Figure out which forms to fill out. 

• Long Stay Visa Application Form
• available in English
• long stay Visa holders are allowed to reside in France for up to 12 months according to the validity of their Visa and purpose of stay. They are no longuer (how adorable, their note is bilingual) required to obtain a residence permit (carte de sejour) from the French local authorities as long as their Visa is valid. 
• long stay Visa holders who intend on staying in France for more than six months have to register with the French Office of Immigration and Integration (OFII) during the first three months of their stay in France
• Visitor Visa
• Visitor Visa, or Visa "D" allows you to enter France and stay for more than three months
• You need a long stay Visitor Visa if: you have sufficient income to stay in France without working
• Theoretically that's us

Now that that's settled, we need to go through the Long Stay Visa application process.

Did I make it sound like it was just a form?

For security reasons all applicants, except children under the age of six (thank goodness, my dog doesn't have to go to Consulate General of France in Chicago office), have to appear personally at the Consulate General of France in Chicago. Please bear in mind that applications cannot be processed more than 3 months before your departure date. 

(don't worry, I'll have a whole nother story about the process for getting pets there)

Appointments must be made online. They will not do it over the phone and there are NO walk-ins. 

3. Other requirements for application:

• US passport size photo on white background, no glasses, no hat, no smile.
• Questionnaire that appears to be only in French. But, it's just one page and I'm learning French so we will be able to tackle this. I can already read the first question (what is your name?).
• Questionnaire must be notarized.
• Original passport plus photocopies of identity pages. Passport must have been issued less than 10 years ago and be valid for at least three months after your return to the US (but I'm not returning) and have at least two blank pages left
• they keep your passport while they decide whether or not to grant you a Visa, so if you are planning on leaving the country during that time, get a travel card. 
• Status in the US - if you are not a US citizen and copy of your green card or Visa. Doesn't say what to bring if you are a citizen. Maybe this just applies to non US citizens. 
• Letter explaining what you intend to do in France.
• Relax after figuring out how to apply for the Visa. 
• Letter promising not to engage in any employment in France; signature certified by a notary public. 
• Letter of employment in the US stating occupation and earnings.
• Ok, fine, I apply and hurry up real quick retire. 
• "retire" is such an old sounding word. We need a new word for this. Pensioner is even worse. 
• I think this one warrants another email to the Consulate General of France in Chicago.
• Proof of means of income - letter from the bank, investment certificates, pension slips, etc to cover your entire stay. 
• Bring at least three months checking and savings slips
• Be prepared, financially, to show through these checking and savings slips that you can support yourself for the entire duration of your stay. 
• I'm confused. What about the letter of employment in the US stating occupation and earnings? 
• And I'm retiring anyway, so how does that work? 
• More emails to Consulate General of France in Chicago.
• Proof of medical insurance: you must bring proof of a valid overseas medical insurance with a minimum coverage of $50,000 US for emergencies and repatriation and NO deductible or copay. The letter provided by your insurance company MUST clearly state these conditions. 
• I did call my insurance company, and as of January 2016 it will cover me overseas and I do not have a deductible. I do have a copay. I don't think they will lie for me. 
• Email follow up to Consulate General of France in Chicago required. 
• Marriage certificate 
• Proof of accommodation in France, such as a lease rental agreement. Email from landlord will not suffice. Consider a utility bill and a copy of the landlord's passport.
• Processing fee 
• If you intend on staying in France for more than 6 months: one residence form duly filled out (upper part only) (thank goodness, it's all in French too)

REPUBLIQUE FRANCAISE VISA DE LONG SEJOUR - DEMANDE D'ATTESTATION OFII

etc etc

• A self addressed prepaid EXPRESS MAIL envelope from the US POST OFFICE ONLY. Please do NOT stick the mailing label on the envelope and fill out as follows (and they show you how to address the envelope, with a label that you cannot stick on the envelope).
• The consular administration has full authority to evaluate and request more documents than those submitted by the applicant
• Please be aware that submitting the aforementioned documents does not guarantee the approval of the Visa.
• but. but. but. 
• Please note that holders of Visas are still subject to immigration control upon first entry into France. The Visa itself does not grant the right to enter France.
• Note to self - leaf black trench coat and suspicious look in the eye behind. 

This is Not the End of the Visa Process

Once you arrive in France the Visa is to be renewed annually. That will be another story for another day. 

On Paris - A Brief Study ... for Brent who knows far more about Paris than I can tell you here

When Noah and I were planning our trip to France the notion of including Paris in our visit took up all of three sentences, 

Me: "Do you want to go to Paris?"
Noah: "No, not really."
Me: "Yeah, me either."

However, I intend to visit Paris, someday, if only to walk the city streets and become enveloped in the classic, timeless European aura. 
*All photos complements of google images.* 

Paris is known as the "Ile de France", or Island of France. It is not actually an island such that it is surrounded by water, and the etymology of the term is not actually clear. Wikipedia says, "The island may refer to the land between the rivers Oise, Marne and Seine, or it may also have been a reference to the Ile de la Cite, in which case "Island of France" was originally" a play on words. 

The Ile de France includes Paris, Seine et Marne, Yvelines, Essonne, Hauts de Seine (upper Seine), Saint Denis, Val de Marne, and Val d'Oise, in case you were wondering. 

The river Seine runs right through the center and the city itself offers a deep and rich history of architecture and culture. Just a smattering of well known tourist destinations are The Eiffel Tower, which towers above the city in la rive gauche (the left bank), the Louvre museum, the Orsay Museum, The Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart), and Notre Dame. 




On The Musee d'Orsay, Wikipedia says, "located on the left bank of the Seine, it is housed in the former Gare d'Orsay, a Beaux-Arts railway station built between 1898 and 1900. The museum holds mainly French art dating from 1848 to 1914, including paintings, sculptures, furniture, and photography. It houses the largest collection of impressionist and post-Impressionist masterpieces in the world, by painters including Monet, Manet, Degas, Renoir, Cezanne, Seurat, Sisley, Gauguin and Van Gogh. It is one of the largest museums in Europe. 

Looks cool inside ....










For me though, it is the Musee du Louvre that captures my interest. "A central landmark of the city, it is located on the Right Bank of the Seine. The museum is housed in the Louvre Palace, originally built as a fortress in the late 12th century under Philip II. Remnants of the fortress are visible in the basement of the museum" 
Sounds kind of spooky. 

Note the scary clouds over the museum. 

I heard it rains a lot in Paris.











Another popular landmark, the Sacre Coeur Basilica, is "located at the summit of the butte Montmartre, the highest point in the city. Sacre-Coeur is a double monument, political and cultural, both a national penance for the defeat of France in the 1871 Franco-Prussian War and the socialist Paris Commune of 1971 crowning its most rebellious neighborhood, and an embodiment of conservative moral order, publicly dedicated to the Sacred Heart of Jesus."


Enough of the history lesson. Let's have some joie de vie!

So, where would one choose to find l'habitation en Paris? 

According to Aurelia D'Andrea, the trendier right bank arrondissements (regions) has had all the affordable housing hogged by the hipsters (her words, not mine, I wouldn't know) and sent the rent sky high for all that's left. However, give the area around the Bastille (the 11th) and Canal St. Martin (10th) a try. For a more sedate atmosphere with an aura of security, "you'll love the 16th, which has a calm, homogenous ambience with a dash of Americana thrown in."

One thing I've noticed in my real estate explorations via the internet is that living areas in France are small and if you are lucky, you may be able to find a house with a garden, meaning, a small yard. In Paris, there will be no garden, and your apartment will be quite tiny. Tiny as in the whole thing being the size of your living room. 

Aurelia also says that the rent will drop if the place has been on the market for more than a month. And if you are renting directly from the owner don't be afraid to negotiate. 

Getting Around Paris

Public transportation is robust with options for everyone including the Metro (subway), bus, bike, boat (!), taxi, car ... but note that the Ile de France is divided into six transportation zones, the most critical to the average Parisian being zones 1, 2 and 3. Zone 5 is noteworthy as that is where the airport is. In zone 6 you can find rolling green farmland and small commuter towns. 

Or, you can just hoof it. Being a compact (huge) city it is supposedly possible to walk from top to bottom in "several hours". And I would offer, with a good pair of comfy shoes. 

I'm in Paris, What Should I Eat?

According to Shared Appetite, http://sharedappetite.com/eat/eat-like-a-local-in-paris/ eating in Paris is a science and an art.

For dinner, be sure to make une reservation. This evidently is done 2 weeks to 2 months (or more) in advance. Honestly, this seems extreme to me, but perhaps it is true. 

As an American they will seat you earlier in the evening because that is when the waitstaff that speak English are working and they will need to translate the menu for you. 

Happy news - it is not necessary or customary to leave tips in France. This is because the eating industry is revered and respected and employees make real wages. However, if you are feeling benevolent and jovial after drinking some fine French wine, feel free to extend your further gratitude by leaving another euro or two. 

Fun and Useful Facts:

• Tap water is free and safe
• Mineral water costs money
• Most people drink the tap water
• There are no doggie bags
• Therefore
• It is expected that you finish everything on your plate else you be considered rude
• On the topic of rudeness, be sure to say "bonjour/bonsoir Madame/Monsieur" upon entering, and say "merci bien, or merci beaucoup" frequently whenever you see your waitperson, as well as when leaving the premises

Location in Perspective

Being the heart center of the country, Paris is just a 2 hour drive to the Normandy coast. Six hours in the car gets you to the French Alps. And to the French Riviera, a mere nine hours (I would stop in the middle in some lovely town and eat something delicious). Ten hours gets you to beautiful Barcelona, or, if you are smart, fly and get there in less than 2 hours. If you're feeling Bavarian, Munich is an 8 hour drive and the lovely town of Bern, Switzerland is under six hours by car. Again, flying would be faster but you would miss all that beautiful French scenery. 

I cannot even imagine what it would be like to live in Paris, other than there would always be something to do and somewhere to go. If you don't care about having lots of space and crave an ancient metropolitan style with deep historical, art, political, and architectural roots, it sounds like an amazing place to root down for a while.

Just for kicks, here is l'apartement I would choose for you!

For more amazing photos of this wondrous place in the Latin quarter, go here: 

http://www.frenchestateagents.com/french-property-for-sale/view/61598AMU75/apartment-for-sale-in-paris-vi-paris-ile-de-france-france

Au Revoir for now!