First Impressions: Living the Dream...Maybe

After years-maybe even decades-in the making, I’m finally realising my European dream.

10 years since I first applied for a position at The Human Rights Organisation (THRO), I have finally been offered the opportunity to work in their Justice Department. I’m swapping the long commutes and overpriced rents of London for charming Strasbourg, in the Alsace region Eastern France.

The territory has had a contentious history, passing hands between Germany and France and back again. Although it’s been definitively French since the Second World War, the area still occupies a cultural netherworld between Franco and Germanic influences. It’s evident in the appellations of localities. Some are francofied versions of German alternatives (as in the City’s name itself). Others suggest the French gave up on replacements altogether (Neudorf, Alt Winmarik, Illkirch-Graffenstaden…).

It is similar to Brussels in that sense, although that’s not all the two cities have in common. Both have the honour of being the official headquarters for the EU institutions. 

That’s enough historical context for now. I won’t promise there will never be more.

This particular THRO application process (or competition, as it's formally known) takes two years. Several months go past before I receive an initial response. I expect a rejection email like all the others. Instead, I am called in for the next stage; an examination which happens to take place a few days after the UK’s EU Referendum. I anticipate all the Brits to be sent home ‘Be gone, thou fickle little Englanders. We don’t need your trouble round these parts’.

Instead I’m told that the Brexit result makes no difference. Although collaborating regularly on shared projects, THRO and the EU are distinct entities. To my great surprise, I ace the entrance exam and several months later, I am invited to Strasbourg for an interview.

In the time it takes for me to be formally accepted and do a number of further interviews for various THRO departments (some across the Channel, some via Skype), I’ve changed jobs in the UK and moved house. Finally, this summer an auspicious video conference interview leads to a firm offer. Eventually.

My notice period at the North London Council is two months. The formal paperwork from THRO doesn’t come through as quickly as I’d hoped and they want me to start by early November at the latest. Hence the six weeks from mid-September (when I receive an official offer from THRO) and making the move to Strasbourg are a flurry of activity. I start sharing the news with friends and attempt to meet as many of them as possible. I notify my pastors at church and step down from serving in the youth ministry. I formally resign from the NLC after nine short but turbulent months. There are no tearful farewells on my last day. Having joined my local Labour Party relatively recently, I throw myself into as many meetings and campaigns as I have time to attend before my departure.

Amidst tying up loose ends on the London front, I’m preparing to adapt to La Vie Strasbourgeoise. I research accommodation, local churches, supermarkets and cultural events. A very supportive contact from the Human Resources team at THRO is of great help.

Still, the most basic of needs eludes me. At the end of October, despite making an additional trip to Strasbourg for the express purpose of looking for accommodation, I am to spend several weeks AirBnb’ing it.

I have displacement issues beyond the usual and varied second generation migrant pathologies. My recent housing travails and brushes with homelessness in London have me longing for stability. My move to Alsace will be the third in 18 months (I didn’t even bother blogging about the last experience. There’s only so much deja vu before it gets boring). Admittedly it's not as bad as some, but more uncertainty than is welcome for someone who thrives on being organised and settled as far in advance as possible.

The good news is that, it seems one can live more civilised for a lot less money in Strasbourg compared to London; both in terms of commuting costs and accommodation. Even without the employer subsidy, I spend roughly a third on monthly travel than what I would in the Big Smoke.

Long term rentals are common in France (roughly 40% of the population). The home-owning, milestone-debt-around-your-neck-mortgage-culture doesn't seem to be as prevalent as in the UK. That's not to say there aren't a lot of people (at least in Strasbourg) who have invested in buy-to-rent property. However, there are protective tenancy rights enshrined in French law to redress the power balance. There are rent regulatory measures, such as caps for instance. 'Short' term leases for furnished accommodation are usually at least a year (three years for unfurnished) as oppose to the standard 6-month ASTs in the UK.   

Studios and one bedroom flats vary in quality. I’ve seen some bizarre set-ups such as shower cabinets in the corner of kitchens. (The layout often doesn't lend to good hygiene practices with toilets in worryingly close proximity to cooking areas, for example. I am to discover later that gastric illnesses are quite common). But even some beautiful shoeboxes are reasonably priced. By London standards.

The problem is finding somewhere spacious enough (in the not unlikely event I’ll have guests) with sufficient amenities. My requirements are modest. I would like a washing machine on site. Launderettes are a common high street feature but I don’t trust them. I have vivid childhood memories of seriously itchy clothes before my family invested in their own machine. (We were probably at the mercy of some malicious prankster, mixing powdered soap with a skin irritant but I can’t prove it). 

I’m also having to negotiate the difference between what the French mean by ‘bills included’ and what I’m used to in the UK. There are additional levies for the removal of refuse and the equivalent of council tax. Landlords might throw in heating and water supply but the electricity bills and internet access are almost always for the tenant to arrange. So much for my simple one-payment-for-all plan.

As mentioned, prior to the Big Move I do an additional reconnaissance mission to Strasbourg with the intention of securing accommodation and opening a post office account.

politico.eu/Getty Images

I’ve taken the more romantic and carbon footprint-friendly journey to Strasbourg by train. But it’s long, pricey and involves mid-journey changes. I hate to fly such short distances but I am enticed by Easyjet’s one-hour plus, cheap-as-chips flights. Gatwick Airport is a straight, relatively brief train ride from my London address.

En route, I spot former UKIP leader Nigel Farage in the departure lounge. He’s tucked away in a less conspicuous corner. I only notice him as I attempt to steer clear of the more congested seating area myself. I approach him with the intention of speaking about faith rather than politics. First, I try to find a segue of mutual interest and do a friendly interrogation of his unpalatable views. 

Mr Farage. May I ask you a cheeky question? Won't you miss all this easy European travel once we're out of the EU?

He’s genial and willing to entertain conversation. He tells me about a recent US tour. He’s also on his way to Strasbourg, I imagine to petition the European Parliament for some reason or the other. It occurs to me we might end up sitting next to each other. Not a thought I particularly relish but a chance to have a meaningful (I hope) back and forth. By the time we reach the aircraft, after trying to make a case for socialist policies that address economic imbalance rather than blaming immigrants, Farage’s words are fewer. I detect from his near-silence that he didn’t know what he was getting himself into. We don’t get round to discussing faith. I turn around to find Farage has been spirited away to the Easyjet equivalent of First Class. It’s all quite surreal.

Once I touchdown in Strasbourg, I continue my quest for the most ethical banking service I can find. Alas, my UK-based building society has no branches overseas. Main ethical player Triodos doesn’t yet do business in France despite having sites in neighbouring countries. A Nationwide rep (who also happens to have spent a year living across the Channel) suggests a French Post Office account. Great idea! If only it were that easy. I can’t push past all the bureaucracy.

My flat-searching endeavours fare no better. In spite of my best efforts, I can’t secure many visits within the two day window I’ve given myself. I do manage to arrange one via THRO’s online employee hub, Solidarité. A retired widow has converted her late husband’s home office into a very attractive studio. The rent is unbelievably reasonable and is as close to all-inclusive as I could hope. There are a couple of issues though. The flat is in her garden, like an especially well-equipped treehouse. Let’s just say it’s prone to unwanted little visitors.

On a more practical note, it’s in the middle of a quiet residential area, a long and secluded walk from the main road. It will be the most appealing residence I visit for some time but, as a visible foreigner, I can’t face walking down those quiet avenues during the darker autumn/winter months. Thus my trip feels futile. I call mum for some cheering up and perspective. She suggests I make my peace with my reality in the short term. I have been hoping to avoid any unnecessary expenditure like temporary accommodation. Mum encourages me to be practical. It’ll be a lot easier to look for a flat when I’m based out here.

I also contact Lucille, my kindly future colleague from THRO’s HR department. She forwards helpful links and puts me in touch with a young Swiss woman who also recently made the move to Strasbourg. Admittedly, the move is more straightforward for her in regards to local links, bank accounts and being paid in the same currency as always. Still, it’s good to have another sympathetic ear within the organisation.