vendredi, octobre 27, 2006
Espèce, Carte Bleue ou Chèque?
After finally finding a bank willing to give me the honour of an account with them (I was knocked back by the first three banks I approached!), I've been finding out over the last year that banking in France is quite a different thing to what I was used to.
First of all, the banks here expect to have a personal relationship with you. This leads to the questions "Who is your personal advisor?" and "Do you have an appointment with him?" every time you want to do any old routine thing at the bank. The counter staff are more like receptionists, directing the client to the relevant office to sit down and discuss your situation with an advisor whose name you are expected to remember.
Another question I was faced with during my first bank meeting: "Quel type de chèquier desirez-vous, Mademoiselle?" What type of cheque book did I want? Umm, none? The type I think even my parents stopped using back in the late eighties? Just how old do you think I am? My refusal to take a cheque book was met with surprise and a shrug of the shoulders. Little did I know then, that the shrug meant, in Advanced Gallic Body Language, "Whatever, Missy, you'll be back begging for your chequebook soon enough." And she was right.
In a country where the idea of checking your account balance over the internet is still considered suspicious, and internet transfers met with disbelief, cheques still rule. Not only are they still a perfectly acceptable method of payment in shops, but just try paying rent or just about anything by distance without one. I couldn't open an ING savings account until I gave in. The only option for paying AXA for our insurance was by cheque. Alex owed one of his work colleagues €20 and he didn't want cash: "Just give me a cheque, it'll be easier."
Maybe this love of non-cash transactions comes from a fear of generating ever-increasing mountains of useless one and two cent coins?
Alex's mountain-in-the-making!
First of all, the banks here expect to have a personal relationship with you. This leads to the questions "Who is your personal advisor?" and "Do you have an appointment with him?" every time you want to do any old routine thing at the bank. The counter staff are more like receptionists, directing the client to the relevant office to sit down and discuss your situation with an advisor whose name you are expected to remember.
Another question I was faced with during my first bank meeting: "Quel type de chèquier desirez-vous, Mademoiselle?" What type of cheque book did I want? Umm, none? The type I think even my parents stopped using back in the late eighties? Just how old do you think I am? My refusal to take a cheque book was met with surprise and a shrug of the shoulders. Little did I know then, that the shrug meant, in Advanced Gallic Body Language, "Whatever, Missy, you'll be back begging for your chequebook soon enough." And she was right.
In a country where the idea of checking your account balance over the internet is still considered suspicious, and internet transfers met with disbelief, cheques still rule. Not only are they still a perfectly acceptable method of payment in shops, but just try paying rent or just about anything by distance without one. I couldn't open an ING savings account until I gave in. The only option for paying AXA for our insurance was by cheque. Alex owed one of his work colleagues €20 and he didn't want cash: "Just give me a cheque, it'll be easier."
Maybe this love of non-cash transactions comes from a fear of generating ever-increasing mountains of useless one and two cent coins?
Alex's mountain-in-the-making!
lundi, octobre 23, 2006
Qu'est-ce qui se passe?
I've received quite a few questions lately about what is going on over here, so I'll take the opportunity to clarify...
My first year in Paris is up, my original contract expired, suddenly I have hours of free time during daylight... Oh dear, sounds like I'm unemployed! But don't worry, an unpaid holiday between jobs is closer to the truth.
Since Alex has only reasonably recently arrived, we thought it silly if I upped and left straight away, so I have accepted another one year contract at the University of Southern Paris. It is a pretty similar position to the one that I had last year, just new lab, new boss, new project. I don't know too much about it yet, but it sounds really good and my new boss seems very nice, so it should be a good year I hope. It is in a lab that I applied to before I came to Paris in the first place, and at that time they didn't have a position for me, but they contacted me before I even knew if I was going to stay around a bit longer and offered me a position for this year! After initially telling them I didn't know whether I was interested in staying, when Alex got his contract, I accepted.
So it is another year, starting in November.
After that, you ask? Feel free to post your suggestions because I have no idea!
My first year in Paris is up, my original contract expired, suddenly I have hours of free time during daylight... Oh dear, sounds like I'm unemployed! But don't worry, an unpaid holiday between jobs is closer to the truth.
Since Alex has only reasonably recently arrived, we thought it silly if I upped and left straight away, so I have accepted another one year contract at the University of Southern Paris. It is a pretty similar position to the one that I had last year, just new lab, new boss, new project. I don't know too much about it yet, but it sounds really good and my new boss seems very nice, so it should be a good year I hope. It is in a lab that I applied to before I came to Paris in the first place, and at that time they didn't have a position for me, but they contacted me before I even knew if I was going to stay around a bit longer and offered me a position for this year! After initially telling them I didn't know whether I was interested in staying, when Alex got his contract, I accepted.
So it is another year, starting in November.
After that, you ask? Feel free to post your suggestions because I have no idea!
vendredi, octobre 20, 2006
Au cinqième étage
The latest acquisition of a bin sees us well and truly settled in to our new apartment, about which a few teasers have been dropped, but about which no proper post has been dedicated. Time to change that before everyone who reads this site has already stopped by for a visit!
As I've mentioned before, we are now on the fifth floor, which gives us lovely views of chimneys and french construction workers across the courtyard. Some things don't change however- we still have slightly psychopathic neighbours and mysterious toilets in the stairwell. We have two lovely rooms plus a bathroom (no stairwell toilet for us!). We have an amazing combination of microwave, convection oven and grill into a piece of superiour kitchen technology (Ham and cheese toasted croissants! Roast chicken! Apple pie!). Also a desk! A coffee table! A folding sofa bed that is not our bed! BBC and CNN on the TV!
Enough exclamation marks! Here are the photos!
Our lovely kitchen, complete with washing machine and a bin - a present from Alex G. Thanks!
Alex putting the high-tech oven/microwave contraption to the test - surely anything that advanced doesn't require eggs to be actually taken out of the box?
The living room from the doorway to the bedroom, with our still-alive plant. Thanks Annika!
A bedroom with a bed that doesn't need to be unfolded, what a luxury. Thanks to mum and dad for the new stripy bed linen, a birthday/moving-in present.
Bedroom again, showing the location of the bathroom and our desk from which I am currently typing. Note also the extremely fluffy grey towels- a present from Annika- Thanks!
Said bathroom, showing bathroomy things.
Construction and chimneys, what a view!
As I've mentioned before, we are now on the fifth floor, which gives us lovely views of chimneys and french construction workers across the courtyard. Some things don't change however- we still have slightly psychopathic neighbours and mysterious toilets in the stairwell. We have two lovely rooms plus a bathroom (no stairwell toilet for us!). We have an amazing combination of microwave, convection oven and grill into a piece of superiour kitchen technology (Ham and cheese toasted croissants! Roast chicken! Apple pie!). Also a desk! A coffee table! A folding sofa bed that is not our bed! BBC and CNN on the TV!
Enough exclamation marks! Here are the photos!
Our lovely kitchen, complete with washing machine and a bin - a present from Alex G. Thanks!
Alex putting the high-tech oven/microwave contraption to the test - surely anything that advanced doesn't require eggs to be actually taken out of the box?
The living room from the doorway to the bedroom, with our still-alive plant. Thanks Annika!
A bedroom with a bed that doesn't need to be unfolded, what a luxury. Thanks to mum and dad for the new stripy bed linen, a birthday/moving-in present.
Bedroom again, showing the location of the bathroom and our desk from which I am currently typing. Note also the extremely fluffy grey towels- a present from Annika- Thanks!
Said bathroom, showing bathroomy things.
Construction and chimneys, what a view!
vendredi, octobre 13, 2006
Viva L'Espagne
Sorry Margs! I left the country without too many explanations, but rest assured that it was not a permananent flight to Sunny Southern Spain, rather a clever tactic to get some pre-eight-month-winter beach action into a month between jobs. Annika spending some time in Spain coincided too well with my month off to ignore, so I promptly joined her for a week (I'll take the opportunity to sympathise with the poor girl, probably somewhere over Thailand now).
Sightseeing highlights:
Art- lots of Goya, El Greco, Dali, Miro and Picasso, including the Guernica, truly awesome. An El Greco painting of a man nailed to a cross clearly confused two Americans I overheard at the Prado: "Are you sure that's not Jesus?"
Churches- two of the most impressive cathedrals I've ever seen: the one in Toledo, and the bizarrely modern (consecrated in 1993 by JPII!) Almudena cathedral in Madrid. From the outside it looks like your classical neo-classic cathedral, but inside! Wow! The stained glass windows are contemporary and slightly abstract, the ceilings painted in bright colours that look tribal African rather than traditional Catholic, big portraits of nuns are in the chapels instead of all the usual scenes. Really interesting. Perhaps not to everybody's taste, but I thought it was fantastic.
We made lots of friends on our travels, spending a disproportionate amount of time hanging out with gray haired men with various degrees of alcoholism. In Marbella we were invited to the birthday party of an old English guy, and met his band of similarly fat, gold draped, (at least semi-) alcoholic retired expat mates who have made this little beach town home, some for 20 years without learning a word of Spanish. Entertaining! In Madrid, there was Pablo, also grey haired, who seemed to live at the hostel. He slept in the bar a few nights and hung around looking for people to drink with and to regale with stories about his favourite movie Meet the Parents ("...it's really fantastic, then Billy Crystal says... no, wait, Robert De Niro says... well, I can't remember exactly, but it was really funny..."). Once again, very entertaining!
Aside from these shady characters, we hung out with some real, live Spanish people who befriended us and took us to a party, as well as hostellers with various degrees of personal hygiene. This included an Australian guy who spoke Spanish and Hungarian and is the former Hungarian national champion of Super Mario Brothers, and another guy who, after being pick-pocketed for his camera and unsuccessfully pleading for his almost full 1GB memory card, very philosophically forgave the thieves, explaining to them that it was okay, at least he still had his health. This sentiment was happily translated for the non-English speaking thieves by the previously mentioned Spanish-speaking Nintendo champ.
Finding tasty food was no problem either, though knowing what we were eating frequently was. From tried and tested tapas like spanish omelettes, chorizo, garlic mushrooms, patatas bravas, and croquettes, to paella, weird scrambled egg things with green beans, and cheese stuffed chilies, and fresh sardines cooked on a boat fire on the beach! Also churros con chocolate- deep fried donuts things dipped in heavenly hot melted chocolate. Delicious (with one or two definite exceptions!)! Also plenty of booze! Those Spaniards are certainly not stingy with their drink pouring and we learned quickly (and somewhat painfully) that a standard mixed drink contains 2 or 3 shots of alcohol! They bring your highball glass with ice and a bottle of whatever you've ordered to the table, and start pouring... and keep pouring until the glass is about half-full, then they look at it... and pour some more! Then they give you a mini bottle of soft drink mixer of which you can fit about a quarter into the glass. BYO Panadol the next morning!
Anyway, I'll finish off with some photos:
The first sangria in Madrid!
Sardines speared on a stick and cooked in front of hot coals! So good!
Churros con chocolate- yum!
Bottle in hand, like usual.
The famous Mezquita in Cordoba, once the second largest mosque in the world, reconsecrated into a christian cathedral after the reconquista in 1236. The moorish archetecture remains, including these amazingly intricate double arches.
The Madrid cathedral, showing the different sections of the roof and the dome.
Some of the stained glass in the Madrid cathedral.
Sightseeing highlights:
Art- lots of Goya, El Greco, Dali, Miro and Picasso, including the Guernica, truly awesome. An El Greco painting of a man nailed to a cross clearly confused two Americans I overheard at the Prado: "Are you sure that's not Jesus?"
Churches- two of the most impressive cathedrals I've ever seen: the one in Toledo, and the bizarrely modern (consecrated in 1993 by JPII!) Almudena cathedral in Madrid. From the outside it looks like your classical neo-classic cathedral, but inside! Wow! The stained glass windows are contemporary and slightly abstract, the ceilings painted in bright colours that look tribal African rather than traditional Catholic, big portraits of nuns are in the chapels instead of all the usual scenes. Really interesting. Perhaps not to everybody's taste, but I thought it was fantastic.
We made lots of friends on our travels, spending a disproportionate amount of time hanging out with gray haired men with various degrees of alcoholism. In Marbella we were invited to the birthday party of an old English guy, and met his band of similarly fat, gold draped, (at least semi-) alcoholic retired expat mates who have made this little beach town home, some for 20 years without learning a word of Spanish. Entertaining! In Madrid, there was Pablo, also grey haired, who seemed to live at the hostel. He slept in the bar a few nights and hung around looking for people to drink with and to regale with stories about his favourite movie Meet the Parents ("...it's really fantastic, then Billy Crystal says... no, wait, Robert De Niro says... well, I can't remember exactly, but it was really funny..."). Once again, very entertaining!
Aside from these shady characters, we hung out with some real, live Spanish people who befriended us and took us to a party, as well as hostellers with various degrees of personal hygiene. This included an Australian guy who spoke Spanish and Hungarian and is the former Hungarian national champion of Super Mario Brothers, and another guy who, after being pick-pocketed for his camera and unsuccessfully pleading for his almost full 1GB memory card, very philosophically forgave the thieves, explaining to them that it was okay, at least he still had his health. This sentiment was happily translated for the non-English speaking thieves by the previously mentioned Spanish-speaking Nintendo champ.
Finding tasty food was no problem either, though knowing what we were eating frequently was. From tried and tested tapas like spanish omelettes, chorizo, garlic mushrooms, patatas bravas, and croquettes, to paella, weird scrambled egg things with green beans, and cheese stuffed chilies, and fresh sardines cooked on a boat fire on the beach! Also churros con chocolate- deep fried donuts things dipped in heavenly hot melted chocolate. Delicious (with one or two definite exceptions!)! Also plenty of booze! Those Spaniards are certainly not stingy with their drink pouring and we learned quickly (and somewhat painfully) that a standard mixed drink contains 2 or 3 shots of alcohol! They bring your highball glass with ice and a bottle of whatever you've ordered to the table, and start pouring... and keep pouring until the glass is about half-full, then they look at it... and pour some more! Then they give you a mini bottle of soft drink mixer of which you can fit about a quarter into the glass. BYO Panadol the next morning!
Anyway, I'll finish off with some photos:
The first sangria in Madrid!
Sardines speared on a stick and cooked in front of hot coals! So good!
Churros con chocolate- yum!
Bottle in hand, like usual.
The famous Mezquita in Cordoba, once the second largest mosque in the world, reconsecrated into a christian cathedral after the reconquista in 1236. The moorish archetecture remains, including these amazingly intricate double arches.
The Madrid cathedral, showing the different sections of the roof and the dome.
Some of the stained glass in the Madrid cathedral.
mercredi, octobre 04, 2006
Hola!
A quick postcard from Marbella in Spain! The last week of Paris was a little busy (birthday festival etc) so I didn't have much time to update. Not too much time todqy either, in between trying to find a way to Madrid without spending 6 hours on a bus.
Anyway, suffice to say, more will follow!
Hasta luego baby.
Anyway, suffice to say, more will follow!
Hasta luego baby.
