Only certain states in the U.S. have a reciprocal driving license
agreement with France, where you automatically can exchange one for the
other — as luck would have it, MY license was NOT one of them! That
meant, my American license was valid to drive in France for only one
year, as a new resident.
Tant pis!
Living in the 5th largest city in France, with its excellent bus
service and all that the city has to offer within walking distance from
my apartment, I debated long and hard whether I really NEEDED a French license — especially seeing how crazy the driving is here!
Just out of curiosity though, I walked over to one of the local “Auto Ecole” to
get some information, just in case, so I could claim a more intelligent
decision for NOT doing it! It turned out that this particular driving
school is very
reputable
for being the first one established in Nice (link to historical
photos). The French owner’s wife was very reassuring that it would be
simple comme bonjour
(a piece of cake), since I already had many driving years behind me in
both countries! Even the owner said I would only need to do a few hours
of driving lessons (much less than the obligatory 20 hours for
beginners) — maybe 5 or 6, but only after studying and passing the
road code
– the first part of the whole testing process to obtain a license. Even
so, this whole endeavor would be expensive: 860€ for the registration,
including DVD road code practice sessions, + 80€ driving lesson
registration & 38€ per hour for the actual lessons with an
instructor — not to mention the time it would take to do all this!
Now, I was even more sure it wasn’t worth it, in all aspects, but with the road code booklet in hand, I spent days looking over car, traffic, and
driving vocabulary.
Who knew how to say ‘clutch’ and ‘high beam lights’ in French? – not
exactly a point of everyday conversation! My husband encouraged me to
continue, saying it would be something I would regret not having later
on… hmmm, maybe….. I still wasn’t convinced, but not liking the feeling
of defeat, the gauntlet was thrown, and so, I signed up! My learning
curve would
be much longer than the road curve signs in the book, as there were
over 200 new road signs added since the past year — Huh? How is that
even possible?
You could only register to take the real test when you were missing
around five answers in the practice sessions, which ran all day long,
everyday, non-stop. After months of ‘study’, I took the
code test
in a classroom with about 50 other younger drivers, who were as nervous
and afraid as I was (you could only miss a maximum of 5 out of 40 to
pass) — we all waited outside afterwards to hear whether we passed or
failed (actual scores not given, and really who cares? I was so
relieved at having passed, I actually cried!
I thought the hard part was over, but then came the actual driving
lessons – no problem for me, as I had driven a stick shift car in the
U.S. ‘forever.’ No deal — you had to ‘caress the brakes’ 30 meters
before a green light, just in case it turned orange (ah, don’t you mean
yellow?) – and how far is 30 meters anyway? There were many other little
idiosyncrasies that I had to do while driving, like moving your hands
on the wheel in a certain way, while going around a sharp curve; staying
to the right, so
scooters could pass,
even in a no passing zone where they don’t legally have the right,
keeping my heel on the floor while letting out the clutch — WHAT,
REALLY? I finally became so annoyed at the ridiculousness of it all,
including inside the car and under the hood French vocabulary, that I
decided to quit – it seemed like they were just trying to nitpick and/or
get more money from lessons — both were happening and I had enough!
After taking two weeks off, and not wanting to lose all that I had
invested: money, time and sheer determination, I took a few more lessons
and then took the real test with an official and my instructor
in the backseat – I was nervous beyond belief, but followed his verbal
instructions of where to drive, parallel park, etc., and answered
car/motor questions in French. Out of the maximum 30 points, I scored
30! What a relief (no, I didn’t cry), and in hindsight, yes – I’m glad I
stuck with it, and yes – it
drove me crazy (yes, pun intended)!
I recently went to a nearby port, where there was to be a Provençale jousting event. While waiting for it to start, I watched rowboats and sailboats, and looked around the
area.
Not knowing really what to expect, other than that it involves water
and two boats, I was anticipating a fun event. Apparently, there are
different varieties of jousting, depending on the region; however, the
principal goal is the same: try to push the other competitor into the
water, using a lance, before he pushes you in! Technically speaking,
there are foot positions and posture, traditional dress, and
lance-striking methods to respect.
