The postal system and deliveries in general in Paris are a complete mystery to us. Way back when we first moved in, we ordered a printer to be delivered. We were given a time window on a Saturday – 8am to 1pm. We waited. Nothing arrived.
At 1pm we got an email to say that the printer had been delivered. But not to us… And signed for. But not by us…
Nothing on the door step, at the mail box nor even at street level.
We needed to go out at this stage but when we returned there was the printer sitting up at the door of the apartment (the inside door – not the street door). We still don’t know who signed for it or who left it there.
I ordered spring-loaded curtain rods from Amazon. They only cost €4. After 6 weeks I gave up waiting on them and contacted Amazon who immediately and without question refunded the money. No harm done and I’d sourced them already in a nearby bricoche department in BVH Marais! Oh how I love that store… It may turn me into a shopper yet.
The mail is as baffling.
I got a notice one day in our mail box down stairs – it said we were not home (we were) and so …. well not sure … the rest was in French and goggle translate was having cryptic convulsions trying to translate. There where scribbles on one side so I figured no need to even bother translating that and focus on the other instruction… but that address was way far away outside of Paris…
Was I expected to spend a fortune and spend day travelling to collect a parcel. I didn’t even know what the delivery was either. We weren’t expecting anything…except the missing curtain rods. And what about that “la date de votre choice?” That sounded nice. At “Le bureau de poste de votre choix?” Except I didn’t know how to make the “choix” and that big green sticker slapped over it seemed to null all that.
I brought it to a French teacher (at a class that I attended but only for a week because it was rubbish – a whole other story) and she told me to go to the place beneath the scribble.
“But it’s scribbled out!” I said.
“It’s okay,” she insisted. “If you don’t go there before 5 today you will ‘ave to go to the far away place!”
Good Lord! Not the far away place! And, yes, she did speak like the girl from “Allo, Allo.” It was really cute.
So, I went to the scribbled out place. It was a 25 minutes walk through the Marais and a lovely walk too. And wonder of wonders our post was actually at the scribbled out place. I signed for the parcel. It didn’t look like our missing curtain poles. Turned out it was our cheque books from the bank which I thought I was going to collect when they contacted me to say they were ready. Confused? Yep – welcome to our world!
There’s always a silver lining.
And guess what turned up – eventually – our curtain rods. Free at this stage but sadly unusable.
Well I suppose how else could the post man fit them in our post box – yep they were in the post box! Oh well, we didn’t need them anyways!
On a happier note, here’s some yummy pastries we bough on New Years Day when absolutely everything else was shut. What the French lack in logic they most certainly make up for in treats!
Happy days! Never worry – have a pastry…