Seeking Tranquillity in France Podcast Por John B Howard arte de portada

Seeking Tranquillity in France

Seeking Tranquillity in France

De: John B Howard
Escúchala gratis

OFERTA POR TIEMPO LIMITADO | Obtén 3 meses por US$0.99 al mes

$14.95/mes despues- se aplican términos.
Stories and reflections from an American and Irish citizen living in France

leavingamerica.substack.comJohn Brooks Howard Ciencias Sociales
Episodios
  • My Irish driving licence exam

    My Irish driving licence exam
    Dec 5 2025
    In the month before our departure from the United States to take up new jobs in Ireland in 2009, my wife and I sold our cars. We had been living in Arizona, the last territory to become a state in the contiguous 48 states, where all the roads were laid out in a grid, distances between point A and point B always seemed vast, and surviving without a car is inconceivable. Now we were moving to a country smaller than the three largest Arizona counties where one drives on the left from a steering wheel on the right while shifting with the left hand. We brought our bicycles instead of the cars.Still, for many Americans, it’s hard to imagine life without a car. What if we decided to buy one? As it turned out, not having a car wasn’t the first concern. We soon learned that the U.S. was not a “Recognised State” in the eyes of the Irish National Driver Licence Service (NDLS) and we therefore could not simply exchange our Arizona driving licences for Irish ones. The law gave us permission to drive with our U.S. licences for just a year, so our first concern would be getting an Irish driving licence.It turned out that the timeframe was even narrower. We’d first have to pass a preliminary driving theory test in order to obtain a learner’s permit. Then, we’d have to sign up with a driving school for twelve hours of road experience—called Essential Driver Training (EDT). But … it was required that six months pass from the date the learner’s permit was issued before one could take the actual exam to receive a licence. In other words, if we wanted to drive legally in Ireland, we had to start our lessons within six months of arrival. That didn’t happen.Both my wife and I eventually signed up for the learner’s permit. She registered for driving lessons, completed the on-road instruction, and passed the driving test on the first try, six months after getting the learner’s permit—which we came to understand is quite a feat. I dilly-dallied, as my mother might have said, and put it off for a few years. There was an element of indignity to the situation, from my perspective: after all, I’d learned to drive on dirt roads in rural farmland before I reached my teens. Then I’d taken driving lessons at age 16 (there’s another story to be told about falling asleep at the wheel during driver training in Connecticut) and had been driving ever since.So my wife became a legal driver while I resisted. This of course became an issue when we would occasionally hire a car to explore other parts of the island. I still had my Arizona driver’s licence stamped with a credible expiration date, but we’d lived in Ireland longer than a year; moreover, since we were no longer Arizona residents, that state also would not have considered my licence to be valid. This being Ireland, however, I was not about to simply shrug and accept things as they appeared on the surface.I paid a visit to the local Garda (police) station and had a friendly chat with a couple Gardaí who happened to be standing around. I let them know I’d been living in Ireland for a certain length of time, and I wondered what would happen if I were stopped while driving a rental car and it became clear that I was not driving legally (according to the letter of the law). In some other jurisdiction the answer would have been obvious. But one of the officers cocked his head and asked, “Is the agency where you hire the car willing to provide insurance?” When I answered affirmatively, he said, “Ah, that’s the only thing we care about.”For me, that was as good as having my licence renewed. My wife, however, held me to a higher standard than An Garda Síochána (the Guardians of the Peace), and after a few years I renewed my learner’s permit and started driving lessons.My instructor was a friendly retired fellow from the neighbouring village of Dalkey. He was a man with a calm demeanour and nerves of steel who enjoyed a good chat while we were out on the road driving around. I learned that his usual transportation was a big old motorcycle he’d had for years, one that could reliably be seen parked in front of one of the less touristic pubs in his village. We talked about motorcycles and fast cars, and occasionally he rendered tips about driving. As with all learning processes in Ireland, the lessons were not about learning to drive; they were about learning to pass the driving test, which has several predictable elements, and we’d take time out during each excursion to practice them. Driving instructors knew all the routes a licence inspector would take during the exams, so we frequently travelled them as a kind of rehearsal.A couple components of the test were things I’d prepared for decades prior for my Connecticut driving test: the so-called Y-turn (or K-turn in Connecticut parlance) and backing-up into a parking space. (Oddly, parallel parking was not part of the standard driving test.) There was also a manoeuvre I felt was a bit ...
    Más Menos
    10 m
  • Cycling through life's transitions

    Cycling through life's transitions
    Sep 26 2025
    One sometimes hears comments like “swimming is a sport you can pursue no matter your age.” Or it might be golf, bowling, or even pétanque. For me it’s cycling: pedalling here and there for more than 60 years.I remember my first bicycle, the one with training wheels that I rode slowly over the uneven turf of our back yard in Massachusetts. It was red, and the training wheels didn’t help me achieve balance until my father took me out onto the seldom busy street, held his hand on my back as he ran alongside, and then finally let go. Off I went, a bird leaving the nest the first time. What I also remember, from later outings on that bike, was pedalling as hard as I could and loving how it felt.And so it was as I grew up. First, envying my brother his big Columbia bicycle with its coaster brake and “belly balloon tires,” as he called them. When he wasn’t around I’d struggle onto it and ride out into the street, slamming on the brake in the sand at the side of the road for the excitement of the skid (and the occasional skinned elbows arising therefrom). Then, one Christmas, three brand-new Phillips bikes awaited my sister, brother and me—genuine English three-speed bikes with heavy steel frames, and a generator with lights front and back. I loved that bike, and kept it for the next 43 years—even though, in full adulthood, I had received from my wife the gift of a beautiful new bike to replace it.Those bicycles led us to places we’d not have seen otherwise—they let us see more and be so much closer to the passing world-scape than through the window of an automobile. On hot summer days they let us hear the sound of insects and birds, feel the heat of the sun and the cooling breeze that a bicycle always assures. On seaside roads and paths one could smell the sea, the dried seaweed and the marsh grass with no chance of a pesky green-headed fly alighting to deliver its vicious sting. Then, years later, in the hilly high desert, pedalling to the highest points in that dry heat to quietly cast an eye across the endless landscape, the dry stony land with magnificent saguaros, ocotillos, scented acacia and the yelp of the coyote.When moving to Dublin we left our automobiles behind but the bicycles followed—taking up new duties as we foreswore car ownership thereafter. Our trusty steeds, as we called them, were now outfitted with baskets and panniers, and accompanied us on shopping excursions, into Dublin city with its narrow streets (and close encounters with menacing Dublin buses). But also to more joyful destinations where better food could be found. Down the long hill where we lived in Glenageary to Dún Laoghaire’s People’s Park on Sundays for the lively weekend market; along the coast, through Sandycove and past “Joyce’s Tower,” then to Dalkey and back to Glasthule with its fine shops for fish and veg. Those bikes took us on holidays, too, relieved of burdensome cargo, leading us down narrow country roads and Irish greenways built on long-gone rail lines, through scented farmland and past rugged coastlines—an Ireland that can only be seen that way.As the end of our working days approached the hills became steeper and longer and our steeds struggled beneath us, sometimes simply accompanying us as we walked the last 15 meters to the driveway entrance. Mounting and dismounting became self-conscious and sometimes difficult. I delayed some years before saying good-bye to my faithful mount, but one day I made the move—a handsome Dutch electric bike took its place. But the transition was not easy! The adaptation from leaning forward toward the handlebars and fully extending my legs to the upright posture my new Gazelle demanded took some time, some re-balancing, and an unpleasant fall. But in the end I sit higher, more safely and can see more than before. And this husky steed easily carried most of a week’s groceries up that Irish hill with ease.Retiring to France, our bikes retired with us—to an extent. With all that one needs within five minutes walking at least they were relieved of their duty as durable porters. Well, yes, there is the occasional trip to the Marché de la Libération, the Marché aux Fleurs, or to shops we like near Nice Port. But mostly they relax and take us on seaside balades and arbitrary urban rides, often along the many pistes cyclables (cycle paths) developed by the city of Nice in recent years.If asked, what does a bicycle mean to you, some might say fitness and health, climate responsibility, or simply transportation. I’d not contest any of those things. But many would say it means a sense of freedom—that sense of freedom I felt the first time I balanced my little bike free of its training wheels. A freedom to move silently along a roadway or path, feeling the movement of the air, hearing the calls of birds, detecting the changing scents of the seasons. Riding the bike frees us of daily cares and worries, shifts our minds to a new place ...
    Más Menos
    6 m
  • A banking tip for new residents of France

    A banking tip for new residents of France
    Sep 5 2025
    Whether moving as a citizen of the United States or from any other country to reside in France, one of the first steps is to establish a French bank account. It’s very likely that in certain contexts—such as in obtaining a property lease—having a French bank account is a non-negotiable requirement. Some might anticipate this and open an account with a French international bank (such as BNP Paribas) before making their move to ease their entry to France, others will do so soon after arrival (and U.S. persons will learn about FATCA in the process, if they haven’t before). It’s likely your account will be called a compte courant, or “current account,” which is intended for support of everyday financial transactions.But there are a couple things to be aware of as you get settled in and become tax resident in France.Taking up residenceAt the time you open an account with a French bank, you might not yet be verifiably fiscally resident (also referred to as being tax resident) in the country. That is, you will not yet have met the conditions necessary for being fiscally resident, which are:* Your home is in France (where “home” would also potentially include a spouse, a recognised civil partner, and children)* Your main place of stay is France (i.e., you stay in France or its overseas territories for at least 183 days of the year)* You work in France (it is the place where your employment provides the bulk of your income)* The centre of your economic interests is France (it is where your major investments have been made, or it is the place from which you manage your principal activities)But once you have evidence of fiscal residency, based on the above, you might find yourself in the position of being able to get a better deal on your compte courant at the bank, and other banking services might become available to you.To formally recognise that you’re fiscally resident in France, however, a bank is likely to require concrete evidence, for example, a signed and dated lease agreement (un bail) or a justificatif de domicile (proof of address) obtained from your power utility. In addition, a bank might also look for evidence of your having submitted a tax declaration to the French tax authority, the Direction générale des Finances publiques (DGFiP) and of having obtained a tax ID before accepting that you are fiscally resident.Here’s the banking tipOnce you have sufficient evidence of fiscally residency, and certainly after you’ve received your tax statement and numéro fiscal, make an appointment with your bank counsellor to review the terms of your current account. Bring with you the French tax statement (avis d’impôt) and tax number, your passport(s), your justificatif de domicile, and documentary proofs of income.The tax statement gives incontrovertible evidence that you are a bona fide tax resident of France, with intentions of remaining in the country, and would generally be the document that banks prefer. Once submitted, the bank should update your status in its records accordingly. Your status as fiscally resident implies that you represent a lesser risk to the bank and, depending on your bank, some tangible banking advantages might arise as a result:* Lower maintenance charges on current accounts;* A wider range of banking options: savings or investment accounts might become available, for example;* Enhanced access to credit: an option for a debit card (carte bancaire) with a higher monthly limit, or for a credit card (carte bleue);* Access to insurance products that are off-limits to those not fiscally resident in the country, including the popular life insurance (assurance vie) policies that enable growth-oriented investment and certain tax advantages, especially with regard to inheritance tax.Benefits available will vary depending on the individual bank, but once you’re settled and have sufficient proof that you are fiscally resident in France, it’s probably worth your while to go back to your bank to determine how your updated status might translate to enhanced benefits. It might save you money, give you more banking options, and make your life easier. Get full access to Seeking Tranquillity in France at leavingamerica.substack.com/subscribe
    Más Menos
    5 m
Todavía no hay opiniones