Signs you’ve spent long enough in France

Honey, I’m home. This chronologically unreliable post has been written over the course of a week and approximately 2000km, as I’ve been steadily making my way back to the shire with Mum (via Amsterdam, to visit my aunt and uncle) in the car. To commemorate the end of my year abroad, here’s a helpful list of indicators that you’ve spent quite long enough in France. 
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Consequences: A Collection of Cautionary Tales

For all its wonderful food, literature, climate, landscape and… oh, you get the idea… France has been known to outdo even my flagrant disregard for Consequences, their ludicrous administrative procedures (which I won’t go into here) being the key example. I’m fast approaching the end of my stay, so I’ve spent the last week embroiled in phonecalls to the outrageously underinformed employees of SFR and LCL. In homage to this hellish mire of beauracracy, I’ve rounded up a collection of the anti-logic that’s amused, irritated and enraged me this year, on both my own account and that of this great nation. First, however, I’ll share a couple of cautionary tales from my own past. 

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