2012 marks my 15th year living in France, my 16th year with my French other half and my 42nd year on this earth. Oh… and my 5th year as a Daddy.
Yet I don’t feel very French, more in limbo between my old life in England and what is going on here. The fact I now feel like France is home is neither here nor there, but England isn’t any longer. Where my home country is concerned I am stuck in a pre 1997 timewarp, in that today whenever I am over there things seem so unfamiliar to me.
That can be anything from what everyone is watching on TV to who provides the electricity now. Even the terms “nom nom nom” and “chav” are relatively new to me.
On this side of the Channel, there is no doubt that I’ll always be l’anglais, the curious quaint person who isn’t French and Little Britain style, I’m the Only One In The Village! Even rarer… I don’t live in The United Kingdom of Périgord. But despite having a certain Frenchness I’m not quite there yet, I don’t think I’ll ever be but I hope that through my children I will at least fit in a little more one day…