Well, after seeing the play last week, I almost had my own Shirley Valentine moment.
On the motorway heading north from Strasbourg, in the first sunshine in a week that had been exceptionally wet, I suddenly remembered why I loved France.
Yes, it has its faults (bureaucracy, mixed record on investment in universities) and its 'more relaxed lifestyle' is over-hyped. But the buildings on the edge of the motorway reminded me of where I was in Grenoble. The sense of living in a world, a culture that is not quite your own. I've done it, I've lived abroad so I know the reality is different. At drinks the previous night, someone said I had enough French to work in France. Possibly but it isn't accurate enough. Whatever the practicalities, for that moment, I wanted to be there, to live there and not just for a holiday. Time to start thinking about the next job move?
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