The France Of The South

I don’t know about you, but this isn’t exactly how I picture France. Possibly you’re thinking that I meant to write “the south of France” instead of “the France of the south.” But no, mais non, and pas du tout. The confusion is real, but it’s not due to a typing error.

If you walked into a grocery store and saw this

wouldn’t you think you were in France? Setting aside the fact that it’s awfully hot to be eating foie gras, and that the carbon footprint of shipping all that food to the South Pacific from mainland France is unconscionable, it’s pretty convincing. Well, that Pandoro might be a bit idiosyncratic, because it’s technically Italian, but it’s exactly what we used to buy in France at Christmas time. Actually, we bought all that stuff in our small town in France. And the whole store is entirely full of foods grown, canned, packaged, and processed in Europe.

The thing is, you are, and then again you kind of aren’t, in France here. People speak French, and are French citizens, hold French passports, but step outside the grocery store and you might find yourself here.

at the Tjibaou Cultural Centre, on Nouméa, the capital of New Caledonia, or as it’s properly called, Nouvelle-Calédonie. It was my first experience of being in the non-European part of France, and it was quite a culture shock.

Not the least of which was caused by learning that even though I could see pastis, my favorite hot weather drink and one I was hoping to be able to imbibe on my ship’s balcony,  I couldn’t buy any. The entire alcohol section was closed. That’s because it’s not legal to sell alcohol after noon on weekend days, or on Wednesday afternoons, for some unfathomable reason.

And that, my friends, is how I knew that I was really and truly not in the France to which I have become happily accustomed.

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4 Comments on “The France Of The South”


  1. Not selling alcohol on Sundays (as was the American rule) made some kind of sense, given that it was the Lord’s Day. (Or actually, not much sense because wine was imbibed freely in ancient times. Water, on the other hand, coudn’t always be trusted.) But not selling it on Wednesday or Saturday afternoons? Quel horreur! Or as the Italians would say, pazzo!

  2. Abra Bennett Says:

    Donna – not on Friday afternoons either!

  3. barbara jacquin Says:

    Abra, did you write about Vanuatu? I saw a photo on FB.

    Barbara

    Sent from my iPad

  4. Eliza Ayres Says:

    Reblogged this on Blue Dragon Journal.


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