Sarah Turnbull “Almost French”

Navigating  the highs and lows of Parisian life. Sarah Turnbull Despite having failed French in her first year at university, Sarah Turnbull moved to this country from Sydney in the mid-’90s after falling in love with a “very French Frenchman.” Her new book, “Almost French,” recounts the charming, true story of a young Australian’s odyssey, “navigating” the highs and lows of Parisian life.

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Stanley Karnow’s Paris (from archives)

“Why do people come to Paris any more?” asks Stanley Karnow, Pulitzer prize-winning writer and author of a new book, “Paris In The Fifties.” He lights another Gitane and sips his café crème. “When we came here, we were kind of searching for the belle époque of the ’20s, the Hemingway, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Gertrude Stein era… I’m told that young people today come here searching for the belle époque of the ’50s. Everyone looks backs and says wow! Things were better then. Who knows, maybe they were.” Continue reading “Stanley Karnow’s Paris (from archives)”

Welcome Back Home (from archives)

This time only expats are welcome here. So, if you’re a tourist, even a groovy one, désolé, bug off; go order a cappuccino in some overpriced sidewalk café and write kitschy postcards to jealous co-workers and doubting lovers. I want to talk to my people, the Great Anglo-Masochistic Zealot Cult (GAMZC) that keeps coming back for more perennial abuse and cultural belittling. Continue reading “Welcome Back Home (from archives)”

Pardon my French (from archives)

After a number of years in France there are a few odd things that you end up only knowing how to do only in French.  For example,  I can change the embrayage of my car with my eyes shut, but I cringe at the idea of touching the clutch. As a publisher, I know the ins and outs of brochage, but bookbinding totally befuddles me. I can poser une moquette or handle carrelage, but I’m lost when it comes to laying carpet or dealing with  bathroom tiles. In fact, on the whole I’m not too bad as bricoleurs go, but if it’s one thing I’m not it’s handy! Continue reading “Pardon my French (from archives)”