Les vacances de Monsieur Hulot

You can hear the emotion in his voice. When Nicolas Hulot, Ministre de la Transition Ecologique et Solidaire, says that he has decided to leave the government, live on French radio station France Inter, his words shake with emotion. The announcement sent shock waves across the country this week.

Nicolas Hulot was a big catch when Macron formed his new government in May 2017. For years, French presidents from Chirac to Hollande had been vying to put his name on their environment portfolio. The fact that the well-known ecologist and TV personality of ‘Ushuaia’ fame finally agreed to join the new ‘En Marche’ government felt like a coup, and an indication that the president’s promise to ‘make our planet great again’ was more than just words.

Alas, the reality of this notoriously difficult portfolio was more than Hulot could bear. He is no career politician and I can only imagine that the daily meetings with dullards diplômés must have grated as the ice caps continued to melt. And the long, hot summer vacation gave him ample time to weigh up his options. Despite what many saw as significant progress over the past year, he could not reconcile himself to playing politics. Dumbing down what he sees as a planetary emergency in order to negotiate with lobby groups, each with its own agenda. Farmers, hunters, energy companies.

While some might see Hulot’s departure as a lack of courage, of abandoning ship in stormy seas, the French on the whole approve. For one simple reason: personal integrity. This unwillingness to sell out or compromise one’s beliefs is a value highly prized in France. Nicolas Hulot will be remembered as someone who had the courage of his convictions.

When I heard about the surprise announcement on the radio, I couldn’t help but think of Jacques Tati’s classic 1953 film, Les Vacances de Monsieur Hulot, aka Mr. Hulot’s Holiday. I’ve never watched the entire movie, but this clip will give you its essence.

Are there similarities between Tati’s lovable but clumsy character and Nicolas Hulot? I see a few, from the fact that he has always seemed like a fish out of water amongst the smooth and smiling political elite, that he is rough around the edges and rather gauche at times. And, as I discovered while researching this post, Tati actually took inspiration for his ‘Monsieur Hulot’ from Hulot’s paternal grandfather, an architect who lived in the same apartment building as the filmmaker.

The word play is fairly obvious. As the French word for holiday is ‘vacances’ and the singular version of the word ‘vacance’ means a ‘vacancy’, the media have also played with this syncronicity of life imitating art.

https://www.letemps.ch/opinions/vacance-monsieur-hulot-agite-medias-etrangers

https://www.contrepoints.org/2018/08/28/323640-vacance-monsieur-hulot

So what do you think of Mr. Hulot’s post-holiday decision? Kudos or cowardice?

Faire ses valises

overpacked suitcase
This is not my suitcase but it could be

I hate packing. You’d think I’d be good at it by now. But after thirty years of schlepping suitcases and other stuff back and forth outre-Atlantique, I’m still no star.

Part of the problem is that I don’t really like to travel. Don’t get me wrong – I love discovering new places and revisiting ones from the past. It’s the process of getting from point A to point B that gets me. It starts with a necessary narrowing of options. You can’t take it all with you, although I have tried a few times. So you need to decide in advance what you need. Obviously that means anticipating the weather, the situations – who knows if you’ll want to go hiking? What if they don’t have any firm pillows? Inevitably, I over pack.

When visiting family and friends, I usually add a few two (Canada Customs oblige) bottles of bubbly or good red. And then a few odd things from France that people will appreciate: herbes de provence, sea salt, chocolate. This time I made strategic error of bringing some lovely French honey. I thought it well buffered in my running shoe but the glass jar shattered somewhere in transit and spilled its gooey contents all over my suitcase. Thankfully most of my clothes were safe as they were in packing cubes, but those shoes are sure going to get a lot of traction!

I wish I could travel like my husband. He casually tosses a few well-chosen items into a bag and off he goes, carefree. If he forgets something essential, he buys it there. So relaxed is he that inevitably, as the plane takes off, he snores.

img_2083I have taken to capturing these moments on my phone. They provide souvenirs of each trip we take, as well as a bookmark in my photo library. Apparently the tendency to nod off enroute runs in the family, as this recent snap from a holiday flight shows.

I am on a rare solo trip back to Toronto to visit friends and family. It was husband’s idea that I make the trip on my own as he already  all his vacation time skiing. I love that he wants me to enjoy life, although I suspect he’s been plotting ways to get me to pack my bags (‘faire mes valises’) for awhile now.

This morning I’ve unpacked my stuff (which I far prefer to packing), and cleaned all the honey and broken glass from my suitcase. I have vowed that from now on, I’m keeping it simple.

Do you like to pack? Do you travel light or prefer to stay home?