Cholet and our first month in France

Finally, after radio (or blog) silence for a decade, I’m getting the blog back together. The previous posts were about our 18 months living in the UK, plus some dog and work-related posts. Now that we’re expats in France, I plan to write about our experiences. It’s gonna be an interesting ride. 

Above photo: It’s not Cholet. I took this picture two days after we arrived in Paris as we walked with our dogs to visit friends in the 7th. They walk out of their apartment everyday, look to the right, and see this tower view.

March 2022: Cholet has become a baseline of sorts for us. We call it the Concord (as in California) of France. There’s nothing wrong with this city. It has a Michelin factory and employs 21,000, but it’s simply not a charming town. When we landed in France, it became the nearest “big” city for us … for four long weeks. We did our laundry there (for 60 euros a week, no thanks). We almost bought a car there (no, Mr. Dealer, we don’t want to buy a new Toyota C-HR and exchange it in 6 months for your used personal 2022 RAV4 Hybride). We almost looked at a house to rent there. One of the good parts – finding a bakery that impressed and set the bar for brioche. Maison Planchot. Haven’t found a better brioche yet. I bought one in its Nantes store and although it wasn’t as good as I remembered, it was still better than what the bakeries closer to us have to offer. So far.

But, I digress. Cholet. It’s south-west of Paris. About a three-hour drive from Paris, and just under an hour by car to Nantes. Central enough for getting our lives started in France. Thank you, Cholet.

This is Cholet, about 10 minutes out of the city center, and a 10-minute walk from our flat in Mazières-en-Mauge. I’m afraid this field won’t be empty for long.


Highlights: A natural grocery. A Pet Food Express wannabe with an interesting name – Maxi Zoo. A nearly empty outlet with a good selection of stores. I bought a jacket there to replace the one I left behind in a Brooklyn Airbnb en route to France. C’est la vie.

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