EUROPEAN LIVING
19 July 2009 | Provence, France
After a whirlwind visit to friends and family in Syracuse, NY, Beth was joined Evans at the beginning of July in our flat in Provence in the south of France about twenty minutes east of Marseille. We are both struck by the differences between living in the US and living in Europe, and we thought we'd share some of our observations so that those who have not lived in Europe can understand why we feel that living here offers us many of the advantages of living on the boat without some of the disadvantages.
On the boat, almost all of our drinking water came from the sky in the form of rainwater that we trapped on the decks and used to fill our tanks. Most of our electricity (but, alas, not all) came from pollution free solar panels. When we had too little sun (as in Chile last Southern winter), we generated electricity using a highly efficient gasoline generator. We kept our electrical demand low and used less than a tenth of the electricity we would have used ashore. Once the boat was built and we were off sailing, we lived a very comfortable life while consuming a tiny fraction of the resources we had when living ashore while building Hawk. During that time, we were surprised at how little control we really had over how much water, electricity and fuel we used every day.
But here in Europe, while we're using more resources than on the boat, we're living much less resource-intensively than we have ever managed to in the States. Our boat-sized apartment is tucked into the thick-walled basement of an old stone and stucco building in a medieval town called Ceyreste that perches on a hill above the Mediterranean about twenty minutes east of Marseille. Though daytime temperatures average in the mid-80s and we've had several days in the 90s, the apartment remains very comfortable even without air conditioning. In the morning, when the sun shines fully on the one outside wall of the apartment, we close the French doors and lower a mechanical shutter. The heavy walls of the building retain the cool of the night, and the apartment remains up to 10 degrees cooler than the temperature outside during the hottest part of the day. In the mid-afternoon, when the front of the apartment is in the shade, we open the shutter and the French doors and let the near-constant sea breeze blow into the apartment, airing it out and further cooling it.
Evans bikes each day the 10 kilometers to and from La Ciotat. For much of the way, there are bike lanes or wide shoulders. Where there are not, drivers are patient and courteous, never in a hurry on the winding little streets that make up the town center. When I want to have lunch with him or go shopping at the "hypermarché," the big supermarket in town, I can take the clean, efficient, inexpensive bus that runs every twenty minutes into town and back. There really is no need to own a car, though we do have one as part of Evans' job. It is a tiny little Renault Clio diesel that is rated for 53.5 miles per gallon on the highway. We haven't done any highway driving, but it looks as if we've been getting more than 35 miles per gallon on our little jaunts to explore the countryside around us.
With an average rainfall of just 24 inches per year (compared to 41 inches of precipitation in Boston), water has always been scarce in this region, and the Romans built many aqueducts, catchments and cisterns during their 500-year occupation a couple millennia ago. Many of those still function today, and they keep the area supplied during the dry summer months, but there is no water to waste. Like most European toilets, ours has a two-part button on the top. Pushing half the button puts about half the volume through the toilet as pushing the full button, and the water runs for as long as you hold the button down.
The area has long been known for its agriculture, and driving around we see vineyards, fruit trees and vegetable gardens. But only drought-resistant crops are grown and there is no artificial irrigation. Absolutely no water is devoted to lawns - the area around many houses consists of yellowed grass and bare soil with lots of flowering bushes and plants that thrive in bright sunshine, low moisture environments. Pools are a rarity - people go to the beach and swim in the Mediterranean. When I ride the bus back from town, the seats are often filled with kids sticky with salt and sand carrying buckets and trowels.
We have a washing machine in the kitchen which uses no more water than a boat washing machine per load. There is no dishwasher and no dryer. Everyone dries their clothes outdoors on lines or plastic racks that are hung out open windows of the apartments that line the narrow alleyways. The hot, dry weather and the constant breeze dry even heavy towels fresh out of the washing machine in less than an hour.
The little medieval village has dozens of small winding alleyways, and a set of small shops that meet all our day-to-day needs. La Poste handles mail and la tabac carries postcards and stationary supplies. La pharmacie has most everything to be found in an American drugstore. La boucherie has fresh meat; la boulangerie has fresh bread and pastries. A fruit and vegetable store boasts local produce all fresh every day. A small natural food store carries whole grains, and a small grocery store has cereal, yogurt and other things. The stores close from 12:30 until 4:00 each day, and around 4:00 I finish up my writing, put a shopping bag over my arm, and do my shopping for the day. We usually eat a simple dinner of salad or fruit with baguettes on the little table on the stone patio in front of our front door while the long twilight paints the buildings golden and lights the steeple of the 12th century Catholic Church visible over the roofs of the buildings around our courtyard.
The economic situation in Europe seems as bad as in the States when we look at the economic indicators, but the only evidence of it we have seen directly is that the boatyards are all but empty. Every bit of the hardstand area, which is the size of a couple of football fields, was covered with superyachts two years ago. Now the only boat is a 120-foot powerboat that has been repossessed. Yet when we ask people about the economy, they say that the average person hasn't really felt it because the safety nets in Europe have protected them from the economic collapse. This is a real contrast to the short time we spent in the States where it seemed as if just about everyone we know has been directly impacted in some way.
Of course, there are downsides. Everyone is down to a 30-hour work week. When we want to buy something we often get an out-of-office reply saying that someone will get back to him in September. This is part and parcel of the European lifestyle, and not unexpected after our experiences living in Europe before we left on our first circumnavigation. It's wonderful to get all of July or August off and most of December, but it's not so much fun if you're trying to get something done.
But when all is said and done, on a day-to-day basis we are able to live in a way that we only wish we could in the States. The suburban, car-centered existence we seem unable to avoid in the places we have lived seems out of step with modern realities. When we eventually return to the States, we'd really like to find a place where we can live where we can commute by bike, shop on foot, have access to nature and still earn a decent living. Of course, we can always head back to sea!