Plus ça change - 50 years in France and Britain

We both had our first experiences of France approaching 50 years ago; our 2016 trip was at a pace that allowed us to look about and to visit many towns and villages, only some of which we had seen before. This reminded us of what we love about France and how much has changed over the last 50 years, in Britain as well as in France. This is partly a result of increasing standards of living but also the catalytic impact when each generation is compelled to cast off the habits and styles of the last. Some eventually adopt more of the habits of their parents but L P Hartley was right, the past is a foreigncountry; they do things differently there. You can't go back because things have changed. The other major pressure for change is external - globalisation, often driven by its rowdy younger brother, Americanisation. Whole aisles of supermarkets in Bordeaux now contain sweet fizzy drinks, as they do in Basildon and Baltimore, and friends mentioned last week that France (France!) is McDonald's fastest growing market. O tempora! O mores! Obesity!

In 1968 things were rather different. I crossed the Channel on a small and ancient passenger ferry, noticeably rusty but with polished brasswork, including a plate proudly commemorating service in evacuating the British Expeditionary Force from Dunkirk in 1940. It was clear immediately on arrival in France that you were somewhere utterly foreign. Electric trains with couchettes for overnight travel and signs saying "EAU NON POTABLE" and "DEFENSE DE SE PENCHER AU DEHORS", almost exclusively French cars, very long, straight country roads flanked by plane trees or poplars, strong-smelling dark tobacco in Gauloises and Gitanes cigarettes in beguiling packets and policemen with guns, not a familiar sight in Bridlington.

On that occasion we were passing through on a school trip to Italy, also disocovered to be pleasingly foreign, although my terror of the (actually very good) food might well have convinced my chums that I was not in the least enjoying the experience. But that is another story. Returning to France on later visits, we discovered zinc bars in cafés serving aniseed flavoured pastis that turned milky when water was added, unfamiliar beers in small glasses, boulangeries quite unlike any English bakery, vast amounts of varied wine, dishes in the brasseries like tête de veau and moules marinières, shutters on windows, roof tiles, the Solex 49cc 2-stroke powered bicycle, post boxes, telegraph poles, wardrobes in provincial hotels, bidets, ancient bedsteads with bolsters, bentwood chairs, buildings, everything was interestingly different.

Terence Conran was similarly smitten and wrote a delightful book showing the variety and individuality of French design, largely in pictures, from the Belle Époque onwards. (Terence Conran's France. with Pierrette Pompon Bailhache, Maurice Croizard. Little, Brown, 1987.) This is not just about buildings but everyday items such as cooking pots and chairs, many of which have largely disappeared, except in flea markets. On this trip we saw a huge one in Bordeaux, part of the Spring festival. There was a vast amount of old tat, much of it the worse for wear, having been dragged from cellars and attics, and it was very evocative.

This is not to say that some older designs are not still manufactured but it is noticeable that for day-to-day household and DIY items, very, very few traditional ironmongers/hardware shops remain (that wonderful word quincailleries). We only saw one on our travels, such is the dominance of the edge-of-town DIY stores, which tend to sell mostly standard Euro stock. Web searches have not yet revealed others or any sort of association of traditional shops. They have dwindled severely in the UK but I have had great pleasure in discovering them in the Welsh Borders with my old pal Anthony Farnsworth. Bunners in Montgomery is a particular delight (http://www.bunners.co.uk/) but Devon and other places still have several very good examples.

France and Britain retain their individuality but under constant assault. The EU has made it easier for motor vehicles, clothing, food, drink, building products and everything else to be exported, leading to a much greater standardisation than we saw in our early visits to France. And, of course, things do change. The quality and variety of food when eating out in Britain has improved beyond belief in 50 years. In France it feels as though there has been a decline, although very good food is still to be had if you seek it out and are prepared to pay. On the other hand, pizzas are everywhere, partly because of speed but also because of high margins for restaurateurs. We ate at several  restaurants in the past month that still have a traditional menu but also offer pizza and pasta dishes, with a busy take away service. I have written elsewhere about coffee but it is striking that the coffee bar chains have revolutionised the availability of, mostly pretty good, fresh ground coffee in Britain. France clings to over-roasted, bitter coffee as a fine tradition but we are not convinced. And, mes amis, sterilised milk is pants and only to be used for emergencies. With several hundred years of gastronomy under your belts and all those beautiful vaches in their many and varied pastures producing lovely fresh milk, how can you imagine that it is possible to make a decent cafe au lait without it?