Once Upon A Time In France: Crossing Boundaries, Wine-ageddon, And More Call My Agent
Dreaming Of Nimes
An urgent trip home to Kansas gave me a glimpse of life before and after the pandemic. In preparation, I had received my first dose of the AstraZeneca vaccine, which left me wiped out for a couple of days. Being 52 years old, I have now fallen into an odd no-man’s land because, in my absence, France has apparently recommended that people under 55 no longer receive the AstraZeneca vaccine, which means I must now either find a way to sneak it or start all over or…what?
Boarding the first flight, I carried a mountain of justifications. At the Paris airport baggage check-in, they asked for my attestation, which noted that I had an urgent family reason for traveling. Which seemed to be enough for them as no one demanded the details of what those circumstances might be. They checked my bag and off I went to the passport control where exactly no one was in line. I breezed straight through the non-existent line and the guard seemed to only have a passing interest in my passport as he waved me through.
There was another re-examining of my attestation before I boarded a plane that was less than half full. This was my first time on a plane since I can’t remember when. I spent a fair amount of time trying to remember the last time I passed through an airport, and I honestly couldn’t. Except for wearing a mask the entire time, it all seemed so routine once the plane took off.
We landed in Newark, New Jersey where I had an 8-hour layover. Make all the jokes about Newark that you like, but the airport was a pleasant enough experience. Once again, there were zero people in line for passport control. I cut through the labyrinth of ropes normally there to establish the massive zig-zagging line and was ushered over to an apple-cheeked security guard who seemed relieved to have something to do. He exuded a perky, American spirit that is such a contrast to the self-imposed dourness of French officials. The chipper man, charged with being the first line of defense for America’s borders, did his best to ask me a series of obligatory questions designed to poke holes in my stated reasons for coming to this country. But after a minute, he stamped the passport and welcomed me with a grin.
Having officially now crossed into America, the reality was jarring. I searched in vain for reasonably-priced food only to find every shop selling the same $14 turkey garbage sandwich. I sat at a comfortable workstation as a cable news station provided non-stop coverage of the death of Prince Philip, a reminder of how much better my life is for avoiding the toxic wasteland of cable news.
Settling back in the U.S., there is a weird normalcy emerging. I have eaten at 2 restaurants. I attended a birthday party for my mother at which all the attendees had been vaccinated. On TV, shows feature celebrities performing and urging everyone to get vaccinated with telethon-like glee. As the number of adults who have had at least one dose passes 50%, and vaccine eligibility is extended to all adults, there is a clear giddiness here that marks a sharp contrast in France. Hopefully I’ll find that same optimism when I return.
Following the news from afar, I’ve been watching the case numbers as France enters week three of its latest national lockdown. The nation passed the grim milestone of 100,000 deaths. Government officials insist schools will re-open the first week of May as promised. Cases have at least hit a plateau. And on Facebook, I’m seeing photos of friends waiting in line at the long-awaited vaccination centers that have started to open.
My two worlds collided on Sunday when President Emmanuel Macron appeared on the Sunday morning news show Face The Nation. Among the news nuggets that he dropped was that the French and U.S. governments are discussing how to resume travel between the two countries for people who have been vaccinated.
Even a modest stream of vaccinated U.S. tourists returning to French shores this summer would no doubt cheer the nation’s battered tourist industry. But it would also provide a concrete sign that perhaps, just maybe, we can begin to dream about that long-promised world after.
Last week, I noted the brutal freeze that hit France’s vineyard. Now the real toll is becoming clear, and it’s catastrophic. According to the Guardian:
At least a third of French wine production worth almost €2bn (£1.7bn) in sales will be lost this year after rare freezing temperatures devastated many vines and fruit crops across France, raising concerns over the climate crisis.
“This is probably the greatest agricultural catastrophe of the beginning of the 21st century,” the French agriculture minister, Julien Denormandie, said this week as the government declared an “agricultural disaster” and began preparing emergency financial measures.
The devastation occurred despite the tireless efforts of farmers to protect their vines by a traditional method of lighting thousands of candles to keep the plants warm. Alas, to little effect. President Macron pledged to support the industry as it tries to rebound from the losses.
Call My Agent
Yes, there is a global pandemic and international strife and blah, blah, blah. But the only story that really mattered was the confirmation that Dix pour cent (known internationally as “Call My Agent”) is returning for an unexpected 5th season and a movie.
The movie will come first, and then the 5th season will essentially be a “reboot” with conflicting reports indicating that it may feature a new set of agents while others suggesting the original starts are expected to return. In either case, it appears there will be a more international flavor with some of the plot set in New York and more American stars being cast in guest roles.
The show has become an international smash thanks to Netflix. And more of a good thing is welcome news in these troubled times.
Dreaming Of France
Fans of Roman and French history will want to visit Nimes. Founded in 500 BC, Nimes became an important crossroads in the Roman Empire in 120 BC. Today, visitors can find some of France’s most spectacular Roman sites by touring Nimes’s coliseum, the Maison Carrée temple, or the nearby Pont Du Gard aqueduct.
Great Reads
French lawmakers passed a controversial security bill that drew widespread protests last year, though they had toned down bans on the diffusion of certain video images of police. Meanwhile, the coppers busted 100 people at an illegal underground restaurant. Those Brits are considering banning foie gras. The rebuilding of Notre Dame is on track to allow the cathedral to at least partially re-open in 2024. And a small French town stumbled onto a stash of gold coins and bars found in a house it acquired to restore:
The mayor of Morez, a small industrial town in a picturesque valley in the Jura, said the value of the find was more than €600,000 (£520,000). Town hall staff first found three jam jars of gold bars and coins worth €500,000 at the back of a dusty shelf, then opened a safe hidden behind boxes in a wardrobe to find up to €150,000 in gold coins.
The New York Times had a lovely profile of rising singing star Eddy de Pretto:
De Pretto burst to fame in 2018 with his triple-platinum album “Cure,” and its blend of urban beats and chanson poetics was not its only uncommon attribute. There was his voice: big and vibrant, with every syllable articulated for the back of the house. There was his look: hoodies and tracksuits, a three-day beard, and a strawberry-blond tonsure like a medieval monk’s. And there was his biography: a young gay man, uninhibited and unperturbed, from the suburbs that Parisians still typecast as a cultural backwater.
And finally, pity the French town of Bitche, who became the latest victim of Facebook’s algorithm:
Life’s a Bitche for one historic town in north-east France that has received an apology from Facebook after its page was shut down for apparently using offensive language.
Bitche in the Moselle, population 5,000 and home to the Bitchois, fell foul of the social network’s algorithm, which deemed it insulting and removed it without explanation last month.
Chris O’Brien
Overland Park, Kansas