La vie quotidienne

 

Over Paris Rooftops

With surprising ease we have reestablished our daily life in Paris. So, we thought that today we would talk a little bit about the differences between that and daily life in Australia.

The first and perhaps most noticeable thing is the different ways in which time is used.  In Australia, for example, most people would use their car and go shopping once or twice a week, only going to a local store to fill in what they may have missed.  Even bread, the staff of life, is often purchased less frequently and stored in the fridge or in the freezer.

In Paris, where it is not uncommon for a family to live in a small apartment, sharing a space of 40-60 square meters, there is no room for a big refrigerator and shopping is done on a daily basis.
  

Paris Apartments

This, of course, takes time.  So shopping becomes a social activity for many to avoid the alternative of making it an ordeal.  This is particularly noticeable if you go to a larger shop, the equivalent of Coles of Woolies in Australia.  The checkout lines progress at a snail's pace and every customer is greeted.  Discussion and arguments between customers and staff are not at all uncommon and no money is tendered until you have carefully packed your goods and resolved any and all issues between yourself and the checkout staff.

Then there is bread.  No self respecting French person would consider eating day old bread unless it was to dunk in the next day's coffee.  Bread is baked several times a day and most Parisians probably buy it more than once a day.  Good bread must be fresh and since it contains only flour, salt yeast and water, it goes stale very quickly. And, of course, there are queues which take time again.  Everyone seems to know at what time the bread is baked and is waiting to pounce on the fresh loaves. Nobody can tell you why French bread is so good, but it is.  The bread in Madrid was mediocre compared to the bread in Paris and when you passed one of the Spanish bakeries, the smell that issued forth was totally unlike (and not as wonderful) as that one gets in France.

Many Parisians only have breakfast at home on a regular basis.  The kitchens in the small flats are not amenable to the preparation of larger meals so people eat out much more.  It is this that in part contributes to the cafe culture where people can sit for hours over a meal or even a glass of wine or cup of coffee, reading, talking or using their computers. If you do cook, as we do, this takes time because of the size of the kitchen and the limited facilities (i.e. a small two-burner stove top, no oven and a very small fridge), but the really difficult part is the cleaning up.  There are no dishwashers and the kitchen sink is usually quite small. It is made even more crowded because, in all likelihood if there is a clothes washing machine it may well be in the kitchen.
 

Our Paris Kitchen

Speaking of washing clothes, there are excellent washing machines but fewer dryers.  A part of a bedroom or even the living room may be permanently taken up with a clothes horse, removed into another room only when one is having company.

Obviously living in a small apartment with other people in adjoining accommodation means that it is really important to respect each others privacy and to be aware of noise. Paris is a city of apartments.  There are houses but such stand-alone accommodation is rare and outrageously expensive.  This is not to say that there are not some absolutely gorgeous private homes, but they are far, far beyond the means of most French men and women.

It is a different life style, one which we enjoy for a period every year, but with the French economy looking fairly dire and the high cost of living here, we are always happy to come home from where we can begin planning our next stay in Paris. Despite bitter weather, including some sleet and temperatures below freezing, the need to assuage our craving for Vegemite led us to make our way down to W. H. Smith on the rue de Rivoli where we knew we could find this fortifying spread. What a true Parisian would make of a baguette slathered with Vegemite is practically inconceivable and on that note, we conclude this blog.

A little bit of Australia in Paris