On the short drive back from a morning visit to “the bar” (which is a mere twenty metres down the road from yet another beautiful church), I ask Madame Julia if, after thirty years in France, all the fabulous architecture has become a bit ho-hum?

“Well, no.  I still find it beautiful” she answers.  “But what I cherish even more than the architecture is the way of life here; the connection people have to nature – the weather, the land, the sea.”

As we drive past golden fields and squeeze over to the right to allow a large tractor to pass by, her words ring true.

My daily life in New Zealand is based in suburbia and while there is plenty of farmland in my beautiful home country, my surroundings for the past four weeks have certainly been a lot more rural than my normal everyday setting.  Along with church bells, I’ve often heard cows mooing from the neighbouring paddock.

But I don’t think it’s just about whether or not you live in a rural area.   From my experience of France so far, there are some things that people here are pretty serious about.

For example, when discussing with my host the “safe” topics of French small talk, the weather was high up there on the list.  (And just quietly, the standard Kiwi icebreaker of “So what do you do?”, well apparently that’s considered very impolite and is a no-no here.  Good to know-know!).

Madame tells me that almost everyone here seems to have an interest in the weather – how it’s been, how it’s likely to be and why.  Even if they don’t live in a rural area, they still like to talk about it.  And that’s because what’s happening with the weather will eventually affect what’s happening with their food!

Oh my, the food!  I think it’s well known that food is very important to French people.  Well, of course food is important to everyone and to be fair Madame informs me that the fast-food joints in France, whilst limited in their opening hours, certainly have a growing patronage.  But from what I’ve observed, pretty much everything about food is taken very seriously here.  The quality of ingredients and their origin, the combination of courses (usually three but often more), the appropriate accompanying beverages and even the setting of the table – it’s all serious stuff.

I’ve noticed that a lot more people in supermarkets do the “examine closely and give it a wee squeeze” thingy, when choosing their fruit and vegetables.  And the range of fresh foods (and treats!) available in the supermarkets here – oh my goodness.  I hope they realise how lucky they are! 

Then there’s the cheese.  My immediate family members are cheese-lovers and they would be in cheese heaven here.  The range available, even in local supermarkets, is staggering and the prices are so good!

While there are plenty of supermarkets in France, many people still seem to frequent local markets to purchase their fruit, vegetables, breads, cheeses and chacuterie.  And I guess that’s simply because they can!  Farmers markets are all over the place in France.  It seems every village has at least one.  Some of them are set up weekly, while others are available several times a week.  People have their favourites and the relationship between vendor and purchaser is quite a thing because often it has been built up over many years.

It seems quite normal for each person to have a good ol’ chat with the stall holder as they select their tomatoes, carrots and courgettes.  They talk about the items they’re selecting, and about how their families are doing.  And then they decide they need some berries, but only if they are nice and sweet and so a discussion is had about that too.  Meanwhile everyone else just waits patiently until it is their turn to choose and discuss.

The same thing happens with the cheese.  At home I throw a one kilogram block of Mainland Tasty into the shopping basket and think I take cheese seriously because I’m willing to spend whatever it takes to buy our favourite brand.  If I’m having guests over, I might buy a brie or a blue and pop it on a board with some crackers and grapes to have with pre-dinner drinks.  But here I watch as yet another customer selects wedge after wedge of incredible-looking cheese – a good Cantal, some Roquefort, a Black Truffle Pecorino and maybe an oozy Camembert.  Yum!   As pleasant yet serious conversation takes place, each piece is cut, weighed, individually wrapped and handed to the well-experienced shopper who nestles them in her basket next to the marinated olives and the thick slice of pâté she’s purchased earlier.  Is she throwing a dinner party, I wonder?  Or maybe it’s just Tuesday’s lunch.

I mull all this over as we drive back from coffee, which is what I would normally have if I went out for a drink at 10:30am.  However, the regulars at the bar (which also sells lotto tickets, vapes, magazines and doubles as the local post office), seem very happy to drink beer or wine as they catch up with their friends and neighbours.  Everyone is “Bonjour”-ed upon entry and there are handshakes or a kiss on both cheeks. And I guess they then talk about the weather or maybe about what’s for lunch. I know I’d be hoping for cheese!