I'm not on vacation!

A common misconception. When you work from home, you are not actually working! 

This morning I saw a tweet from some fellow location independent pioneers @loveplayworkUK on The 6 crucial pieces of the location independence puzzle. Thank you, Hannah and Chris, for prompting me to complete and publish this post after a year of not actually getting to it. Ultimate procrastination or too busy?

To the untrained eye it may well seem as though the remote worker is on permanent holiday. Add a little location independent ingredient to your mix and no matter where you are, people think you are there just to visit. That couldn't be farther from the truth! You have to learn to play along with the advocates and the naysayers you'll meet along the road and stick to your plan and goals no matter what. Easier said than done! As with anything (and thanks again for your blog post today  @loveplayworkUK  to remind me that I am part of the race) the only way forward is to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

If this blog is anything to go by, I've proved that working from home is still work. Sure I no longer have that sinking Sunday night feeling or the stress of punching a clock, yet it's quite literally taken me a year to write my next post. That's because something strange happens to you when you work from home, (or at least has happened to me and others I know who have tried this) you over compensate. So all in all, my grand plan of quitting the big smoke, setting up my own business and swiftly thereafter getting on the road, has actually come with a lot of responsibility. Don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade this for my old life. It's just no matter how well you plan, it's still an adjustment and commitment. Difference is that it is to yourself, rather than to your boss! And... you are happier.

I'll continue to share, in subsequent posts, what I've found useful in order to carve out my dream life in my favorite spots on the planet... starting with technology!

I hope to inspire others to join me in the way of the future.

Mrs R

The Magic of life revealed

Following on from the previous post about our move to France in the Spring/Summer of 2012!

Mr R & I, were blissfully enjoying being cut off from the world. We had started to blend into the new rhythm that France imposes on you, with fixed meal times and black and white cans and can'ts. This was in stark contrast to 24/7 America we had just experienced for 3 months prior to the move. Please bear in mind that I was raised on the French way of life pattern, yet after 3 months in California where, "whatever you want", you can pretty much have "whenever you want", day or night, this was a refreshing change. At times it is somewhat infuriating as, when one loses track of time, it's very likely one might miss the window in which to get anything required!

You soon learn that what living in France really means is having to comply with to the 0900-1200 and 1400-1900 opening hours to get anything done.

In our region, it's a little bit more like from 10ish to 1230ish and back around 1430ish and close as early as possible. Nothing is open on Sundays with random weekdays for certain places to also be shut!

I love my homeland, because we've always put work life balance first! There is a mad panic just before noon and just before 7pm when everyone is out to get whatever they might require for the upcoming meal. Actually, unlike California where eating seems to be seen as a health hazard, pretty much everything in France is centered around what we're eating next!

By the end of our first week in France, still cleaning and rearranging furniture, I heard buzzing. I asked my husband if he could hear it too. He quickly identified where it was coming from, which was the back of the house. We went to inspect. We both stood very still looking at the back wall of the house where thousands of bees were heading for the eaves. We looked back to see that the bees were coming from; an overgrown leylandii. We rushed to close all the windows. By now it's almost 1800 on a Friday evening. Why is this significant you might ask? Well because unlike California, almost 1800 on a Friday in France, means everyone is out getting dinner, coupled with the fact we still have no phone, no access to any wifi to search the internet for advice or to use Skype. What this means for us; drop everything and hop in the car to go seek out help!

Thankfully we had salvation close-by! We headed over to the neighboring village where we have some wonderful English friends who run a B&B. They have lived in the area for over a decade. I ask if they know what one does with bees. They said they didn't, but maybe the "honey museum" might be able to help. Yes that's right, we have a honey museum close-by. Note to self, must go visit this local attraction! Neither of our friends speak French, so without hesitation, they handed me their phone and I made a call to the honey museum. By this time it's gone 1830 and I'm worried it might be shut. To my delight they weren't, and my panicked ramblings about a swarm didn't faze the lady at the museum. She promptly gave me the names and numbers of 2 beekeepers. I call the first number. Voicemail. No surprise as it is, after all, almost time to eat by this point. I can't leave a message because I don't have a French phone for them to call me back on and I can't expect them to call my English friends. Not unlike folk in the US, people in France don't do well on calling foreign numbers, so I'm not able to leave my UK mobile phone number.

I try the second beekeeper's number. A man answers. I rather excitedly ask if he is a beekeeper. After what felt like forever, he hesitantly replied that he was. I explained our situation: "we've just moved to the region"; "I have bees all over my new house"; "I have no idea what to do with them"; "does he want them?" He tells me that he can either come tonight, or it will have to wait until early the following week as he's going on a training course in Paris over the weekend. I tell him; "tonight is perfect" and that we will be there until he can come no matter how late! He takes a few more details, like size of the swarm (I had no clue), how high they were, did he need a ladder, that type of thing.

We got back to the house to find bee carcasses all over the house, particularly in windows and entry ways. It was upsetting. We waited what seemed like eons, with more of the poor things dropping like flies.

Eventually a green truck pulled up and a young man walks out grinning from ear to ear. We shake hands. Very professionally he asks where the bees are. We show him the swarm, which had doubled in size in less than a couple hours.

We had also found another swarm in another tree hollow while we had been waiting for him. The latter he left alone as it was inside the tree, but the swarm in the leylandii he was super happy with. He put on his beekeepers hat, veil, and gloves, and got a hive out of his truck. He then set himself up with some loppers near the leylandii. We got a ladder out and propped it into the overgrown bush. Then he put out a drop cloth on which he put his rather beautifully restored hive. He had us sniff the hive for a whiff of the distinctive propolis which would make the bees feel right at home.

The beekeeper then told us all about the bees. That they are really not at all aggressive and weren't likely to sting us unless we were to upset them i.e. mess with their queen. He also told us that bees don't like dark colors, particularly black and red and that it was best to wear light colors when handling bees. I should mention at this point, that he was wearing a dark blue and black jacket! He then told us we had black bees which were rare, becoming extinct. We watched as he hacked at the leylandii (which we were actually really happy about).

After a short while, he got the swarm clear of the branches. He had just cut the branch they were on, when we had a near catastrophe...

he slipped...

or maybe the ladder gave way.

Either way, he dropped the swarm. Angry bees. After he had gathered himself, he picked up the branch they were on and brought them over to the hive. They began to descend into it to make a new home. He then went back to retrieve what he could of what had broken off during his fall, just in case the queen was in that part of the swarm.

We stood and watched as the bees gradually moved in. Any rogue bees still hanging out in the leylandii, soon started to come towards the hive which meant her majesty had moved in. A moment of elation!

That was when he told how beautifully our paths had come to cross. Our new friend the beekeeper was, in fact, an amateur. Our bees being his first swarm.

A friend of his had found an empty and neglected hive in a field near where they live. Our friend the beekeeper had spent weeks restoring it to its former glory. He had just finished cleaning and preparing the hive the day before and had spent the day looking for a swarm in the wilderness.

He had failed on his quest and, dejected, was about to go home for dinner when I called (remember I called him just before 7pm and we are in France).

He told us that when I called telling him I had a swarm and did he want it, he couldn't believe it.

He was thrilled that we would give him the swarm because, at the honey museum, you have to be on a waiting list and you have to pay for a swarm. Ours being likely some 10,000+ bees, it would have cost him hundreds of Euros! Meanwhile, my husband and I were willing to pay him to take them! Rather poetically he told us that it was simply "the magic of life" to have found one another.

We celebrated and got better acquainted. We shared the one drink we had in the house, a French beer (another similarity to the US, not very strong and best consumed cold).

Then we had to hurry and put the bees in his truck as it started to rain and apparently bees can drown in a hive. During the transportation process from the back to the front of the house, he got stung several times as the bees hadn't yet settled when we moved them.

We sent him on his way wondering how many more stings he might endure as the back of his truck went straight into the cab with no separator!  The lid of the hive didn't fit properly, so we loaned him some bungee chords and hoped that would keep the bees at bay on their journey to their new home.

He said he'd bring us honey. I'll be sure to share when we get some!
Mrs R

Prequel to the Magic of life

 

The first day we moved into our new converted barn in France was a hive of activity, in part because we had just barely returned from California. After a 3 months stint out west, and following a couple days to get our bearings in the UK, we headed south to our new home in France. We were still jetlagged.

Don't believe anyone who tells you they don't feel jetlag after a couple of days back! The rule of thumb is one day per hour's difference before you are properly back to the right time zone. Whether or not you open your eyes at the right time, your body may be there, the mind tends to be elsewhere for a few more days!

To say there is a marked difference between California and France is seemingly obvious, yet I will point out some of the perhaps less obvious practical changes that one can't take for granted when first setting up home in another country. One key difference, that may seem trite, is that there is free wifi EVERYWHERE in California. In France it is somewhat of a "who you know" type of deal...unless you have a French mobile phone provider who let's you have access to their hotspots... and getting a French mobile on a contract is fun in itself. Read below for more on that!

Our move was planned for May 1st. For readers not familiar with France, I think we may have the most bank holidays on the planet, certainly in the month of May. May 1st being the first one of them in the month. That was the day we were officially moving in. We'd signed rental papers at the notaire's the day before. Amazingly they were open, which is not a given! Depending on which the day of the week the 1st of May falls, us French folk love nothing more than to stretch a bank holiday into a long weekend. May 1st of 2012 being a Tuesday, there was every likelihood, the notaire's staff might have taken the Monday off too! The owner (our new landlord) had kindly agreed to leave the old school French ritual of "let's all meet and sit around the table signing papers" until the last possible moment. This was due to our having to extend our trip in California unexpectedly and our landlord likely negotiated for the notaire to be available on a Monday. It wasn't her notaire; it was his colleague who met us for the sign-fest.

The house we are renting is right next to a piece of property we had bought at the end of 2011. So we are renting what was our neighbor's summer house. Our property is a large scale renovation project of another barn of similar size to the one we are renting. We thought it best we test living out in rural France before getting into a massive "grand design" type project.

When we first visited our neighbor's house it was winter and the fire was lit and it seemed warm and cozy. Fast forward to the spring/summer and it's a different story. The sun beaming through to show every cobweb, every speck of dust, every smear. Verging on the point of OCD, my husband and I enthusiastically tackled each of the 300 square metre property, armed with cleaning products and vacuum cleaners. With every window in the house open and music blaring out (we have no other neighbors to bother which is rather awesome) we went about our business to get the house ready to move into.

This went on for 2 weeks straight and in the meantime we were looking into reconnecting to the outside world with a phone and internet connection at the house and also getting some French mobile phones.

All of which was naturally impossible until we had a French bank account!

Getting a French bank account became my next goal. To say that we love bureaucracy in France is an understatement. Luckily, I had come prepared. So all it took was showing as many documents as possible, to prove my identity, proof of residence and of course source of income to book an appointment with a lovely bank manager to "apply" for an account. I say, "apply" deliberately, as despite being uber ready with all my paperwork, there was no guarantee the bank would open an account for me. In fact it actually took several more weeks before they opened the account. And a while longer, before I was allowed to have a debit card to get any of my money out of it. I've still not been granted cheque book privileges almost a year on! The moral of the story was that phones would have to wait until the next trip. We still had no access to wifi or the ability to do anything remotely linked to the 21st century!

We were totally cut off which was fine until we had some unexpected visitors which I will tell you about in the next post.

The accidental risk taker

All the great pioneers have set aside their fears, at least temporarily, and gone ahead despite the dangers. Courage is not the ability to walk into danger without fear. Courage is the ability to walk into a dangerous or frightening situation and think to yourself, "Yes, I'm scared--I'm scared to death--but that's not going to stop me."

One might be forgiven for thinking that I am either a natural risk taker, a total hippy or flush, to be able to afford my international lifestyle (or a combination of all the above). The truth is, I'm likely a bit of a hippy, though I like creature comforts far too much to rough it, and while I'm not yet swimming in limitless funds and resources, that certainly is the goal. So that leaves risk taker.

I've never considered myself to be a risk taker. My mother proudly recounts stories of when I was a child; I was the perfect child so she tells me. I would never have thrown myself down stairs, put my hand on a hot oven door, run across the street, or eaten anything I wasn't given by a trusted adult. In fact one story she often tells, is about my befriending an old man on the metro when I was about 5. As we approached his stop, he reached deep into his pocket to offer me some dirt covered candy, which he stopped just shy of spitting on to clean, before handing it to me. Being a well mannered French child, I promptly told him "no thank you, it would hurt my teeth". Needless to say my mother was relieved. I digress.

My point is, I do not consider I'm a risk taker. I like everything kept where I always keep it. I like to have my favorite things around me. I like to be comfortable with people and critters I love near to me. I like to know that money is flowing regularly into my account. One might say I'm a bit conventional. 

On the other hand, I've always set myself goals. And the older I get, the more I realize that when I have goals, and the clearer I make them, the more they come to be. Some of my goals in life were ordinary. From swearing I would return to my homeland, to getting a driving licence, to getting to talk to that boy that was so cute! I started out pretty reserved and ironically most people would now tell you I'm uber confident. Go figure! I suppose I'm a classic "if I can dream it, I can do it". The more I'm told I'm nuts to even think it, the more I'm gonna prove you wrong! Respect to Walt Disney! Go check out some of his quotes about dreams and not listening to what the masses tell you. So I set myself goals and then I like to also throw myself curve balls if I get too comfortable.

The Academic Years:
I left school not knowing what I wanted to study. So I set a goal... to go back to University within 3 years. I did. When I was at University, I decided Fine Art students should be allowed to do exchange programs. You may have guessed, I'd set another goal: to live in California. Simple. I spoke to my faculty who told me I could take up a language in addition to the art and go live in France or something. OK so that was a goal... yet it wasn't the one I was aiming for at that time. What did I do? Set up an exchange program with a school in northern California, Yep you guessed it so I could live there! While I was in California, I was asked what I would do when I would graduate. The answer was never waving: "I'm going to work for MTV". And Californians being true sweethearts, they usually said "right on" or "you go girlfriend". So I believed it. More importantly I met my rather awesome husband who not only believed me, he actually agreed to follow me to Europe to support my endeavors. Little did he know what he was letting himself into! 

The Professional Years:
By now I'm guessing you might be seeing a pattern. I did go work for MTV. I loved MTV, still do. Yes the programming isn't what it used to be. The ethos, attitude and brand values still live strong, just in smaller doses! I'll condense more years than I care to mention, in the media industry, to say that I then notched a couple/three more large global broadcasters before getting to the "now": location independent living, working remotely.

By all accounts, I was doing well. Climbing up the ladder nicely with each new job. Then it all changed. To be honest it pretty much all changed after MTV. Nothing ever compared is the truth. No other job felt like home. They  just felt like jobs and while the people were brilliant, the companies world class and the projects more and more creative, something was missing. I wasn't particularly happy and we were living in London which was home to neither my husband nor myself. Every time we went "home" to France or California, the journey back to London felt heavier and heavier. London and England have been good to us, and for that we are truly thankful and grateful, yet I suppose as we all age and people settle to start families, our priorities about work life balance shift.

In the summer of 2009, the Universe slapped me in the face and showed me life was not only precious, it can be pretty fleeting.
Crunch time. I said goodbye to my corporate self and entered the world of the unknown. It's both magical and frightening. Mostly magical though if you know what truly matters.


This blog is about sharing the magic and also the bumps and bends along the way which make the journey almost as fun as the destination.

Our goal is to inspire others. Yes we are scared, but that's not going to stop us!!!

Mrs R

Hello World

So I've put this off for quite enough time now.

I've seen friends and relatives blog away and never thought I would.

This blog is about living location independently and working remotely from all my favorite spots around the world.

It's dedicated to the amazing people who surround me and support me with all my wild ideas; starting with my husband and mother who inspire me daily. It is also to thank fellow location independent pioneers who continually champion and encourage my endeavors.

Thank you, you are truly brilliant and I love you all.

Mrs R