Musings about France

I have spent the last four days decompressing from my recent trip to France. While on the trip, I had blog posts swirling through my head. I wanted to write about all of the differences I saw between France and home (such as how it is apparently common in Europe not to use a top sheet. I guess the rationale is that after guests leave, housekeeping washes the duvet cover and the fitted sheet. But – what if you get hot and just need a sheet but not the actual

comforter? There’s no in between!), and I still may write about those. But mostly I have been trying to figure out exactly what I want to say, in terms of the big picture. 

And here it is: Europe is better. I know that may sound blasphemous. I don’t mean it to be. I love my home. I love being American. I was homesick just today for things that are quintessentially Maryland (my home state), such as cornfields and the beach and the rich (and not always pretty) history of the state. Annapolis was a wonderful town in which to grow up. Small enough to feel familiar, but big enough to have a lot to offer. Plus, Annapolis is close to so much. There is a lot of choice in that part of the country, choice that I took for granted until I moved to New England. I’m in one of the bigger towns in New England, and still I feel the lack of choice acutely. 

In Maryland, if you need a doctor, you have endless options. That may sound like hyperbole, but it’s not. We have some of the best medical systems in the world in the DC/Baltimore/NoVa metro area. There are world class specialists in just about every specialty, right there. 

When I moved to my current town, I had three choices when I needed to find a doctor. Three. And of those three, not every practice was accepting new

patients. All I wanted was a female physician to be my primary care practitioner and those were apparently too restrictive as criteria. There were actually zero options in my little suburb. I finally called AND emailed a local practice and somehow got someone to decide that I’m nice and let me in to the practice. 

I did not understand this. How is it possible for it to be so difficult to find a medical practice in a relatively populated area? Yet, where I live now, that is the case. There are fewer grocery stores, fewer retail stores, and the stores that do exist are smaller, with fewer options. If I want to shop at a higher end store, I have to drive an hour into the nearest big city. And, this is the real kicker: I grew up with the Smithsonian in my backyard. I went to the National Air and Space Museum so many times I began to find it boring. In my new town? There is one museum. One. It took me all of two hours to look at everything, and that was with me being slow. It has some nice pieces, but the space itself feels like a converted high school. In other words, my art options are a little bit different here. 

There are pluses to my new locale. People seem very friendly and open in a way I have not experienced before. Drivers will kindly let you in if you have your blinker on. I have lots of new places to explore in the nearby states. But the level of choice is different. The distance is what makes that difference. I have to drive half an hour to get to any decent shopping, and an hour to get to any of those small towns or to the big city. And drive I must: there are no buses, no trains, to connect any of it together. 

In Europe, everything is different. Even going from Paris to towns in Provence – a distance that takes several hours to cover by train – is accessible. I know people always say that public transportation is so great in Europe because everything is close together, but if that were true, there would be no trains or buses with many departures a day, cheaply and comfortably getting you anywhere you wish to go. 

I really believe that the reason that public transportation is so clean, cheap, comfortable, and convenient in Europe is because, quite simply, it is something that Europeans value. There is a cultural value on integrated transport, and it shows. I spent a week and a half in France – three days in the city, six days in the country – and I never had to think twice about going anywhere or getting anything, ever. Apartments are small in Paris, but who cares? You don’t need to stock up on three months’ worth of packaged food because it’s so darn inconvenient to get in your car and go to the store every day; instead, you simply pop out to the grocery store that’s right around the corner, or to the little bakery, or the pharmacy (where they have actual pharmacists who proactively help each and every customer who walks in the door). 

We walked 5-7 miles a day, and went up countless flights of spiral, uneven, narrow stairs, and it was wonderful. I don’t know why you wouldn’t want to live this way.