Pont du Quatorze Juillet, Pau

Time off…

“Time off.” In any language, these are two beautiful words most people love to hear from the moment they enter the educational system until they retire. The rhythm of weekdays and weekends directs the flow of life for most of us. I fondly remember the elation of waking on a Saturday morning to the dawning realization that I didn’t need to catch the bus to school or the commuter rail to work. With any luck, we all recapture some of that glee via long weekends, holidays, and vacations.

Since retiring, JB and I have been surprised by how ingrained that rhythm is in our internal clocks and calendars. We continue to wake up at the crack of dawn without an alarm. We still face Friday evenings with anticipation and Sunday evenings with slight deflation. Occasionally, we wonder how different life would have been had we escaped the American rat race and pursued careers here in France. Would the likely reduction of income, have been worth the benefits?

Touché…

Labor policies dictating time off from work in France and the US are shockingly different. Both full and part-time French workers annually receive five weeks of paid holidays (what we call vacation days in the US), depending on the number of days worked per month. They are also entitled to a minimum of 16 weeks paid maternity leave and 28 days of paternity leave. French law also protects an individual’s job during extended leaves of absence, even when unpaid. Additionally, there is no limit on sick days, if verified by a doctor. I would add, based on our observations, that time off in France is taken seriously; no checking emails or responding to phone messages. (1)

In contrast, the US has no laws requiring an employer to pay for any benefits. The average vacation time is still only 7 to 14 days per year and over 28 million Americans received no paid vacation or holiday time in 2024. Despite this abysmal deficit, nearly half of American workers do not take all their paid time off for fear—whether real or imagined—of how it might impact career advancement or job security. In France, workers are required to take at least twelve days off between August and October each year, and most take all the time to which they are entitled. French people often make the argument that they “work to live and not live to work” as the Americans do. Touché. (2)

Make the bridge…

However, French and American workers do share at least one “time off” ambition: to make the most of a three-day holiday weekend. Even better, is further extending these weekends by filling the gap between a Tuesday or Thursday holiday with a paid vacation day. The French so love the concept that they have named it: “faire le pont” or “make the bridge.”

While I appreciate the benefit of the bridge for working people, as a retired expat it only means more advanced planning. Many shops also “faire le pont” by remaining closed throughout an extended weekend. This past May was particularly challenging with four holidays, two of which offered “bridge” potential. We learned the hard way to ignore published store hours and to call ahead during these holiday breaks. Recently faced with an untimely plumbing disaster, we initiated a hunt to replace damaged flooring the Friday morning after Labor Day. Unfortunately, all we found were “see you next week” notes posted on the doors of one vendor after another. Lesson learned.

Synchronization…

Living in France has also required synchronization with a different calendar. Some holidays are unique to France or are observed on a different date than in the US. For example, Labor Day is celebrated on May first instead of the first Monday in September. We have occasionally awakened to a suspiciously quiet weekday morning and discovered, with Google’s help, that the reduced traffic noise or absence of nearby construction workers was due to an overlooked holiday. Plans must quickly be adjusted for limited market hours or possible universal closures.

However, regardless of the calendar date, “boulangeries” remain open at least until noon. Included in the “essential workers” category doing COVID, these dedicated bakers of baguettes are also culturally critical. The baton shape (a literal translation of baguette) was designed to slip easily into the uniforms of Napoleonic soldiers, replacing the traditional bulky “boule” that resembles a squished ball. Two centuries later, the modern “Française” can’t imagine facing life’s daily battles without a warm loaf tucked under their arms as they march to breakfast, lunch, or dinner.

Even the dogs have their priorities straight.

Bigger Bridges…

Beyond such practicalities, I find a didactic message in the French balance of work and play. After all, it is the aspirational “joie de vivre” that tops our list of reasons for relocating here. I suspect the secret to achieving a joyful life is less about labor policies and more about capturing the essence of “time off” in daily living. Our French friends set a good example. They take elongated lunches, regularly participate in group activities, and relish seasonal pleasures like spring asparagus, summer stone fruit, fall chestnuts, and winter mulled wine.

Our pursuit of a similar joyful life, while adapting to a change in culture and stage of life, has not always been easy. My blog sometimes shares how the new sources of reward and pleasure come at a cost. They shift priorities and perspective, test limits and long held beliefs, and stretch identity and purpose beyond previous titles and accomplishments. While the horizon of our journey continues to expand, one thing remains constant: a commitment to “faire le pont” across greater gulfs than just a bonus holiday to a long weekend.