Every Tuesday, Diane at Bibliophile by the Sea posts the first paragraph of her current read. Anyone can join in. Go to Diane's website for the image and share the first paragraph of the current book you are reading.
Catherine Berry is a lover of France like me and her family actually moved to France for a year. That's what her book But You Are in France, Madame is about. I have to admit that the title confuses me a little bit because I'm not sure where to put the emphasis, like were they lost and someone said, "But you are in France, Madame." Or did she want to do something the way the Australians do it and someone said, "But you are in France, Madame." There are just so many places to put the emphasis. Here's the intro from Chapter 1.
"Congratulations, you are Italian!"Thanks for visiting and I look forward to seeing what everyone else is reading.
"That's all I have to do to get my Italian passport? It's that easy?" my husband replied.
"No, now we do the paperwork!" Grinning widely, the embassy official rose from behind the counter to hug and kiss my husband, resulting in a spectacular near miss of cultural proportions.
And so began the paperwork, lots of it...and the spiral of confusion (ours), smiling affability at our confusion (theirs) and hours waiting in the embassy queue, just to be told why the documents we had been instructed to find at the previous visit were no longer the right ones.
Time was running out for us. We had been talking about our year in France for years, family and friends were worn down with cheering us along from the sidelines of our hurdle-strewn marathon to the airport tarmac. My husband and I, both Australian-born, but of European descent, knew that if our family's French adventure were to be anything more than a three-month touristy jaunt, we would need extra documents. Either my husband had to get his Italian passport, or I had to have a British one approved. Both seemed an even better option; hence his misleadingly optimistic exchange above.