Banned in France
From baggy swim trunks to free book deliveries, French laws protect the quality of life
By now, we’ve learned most of the social conventions in our new home. When to say “bonsoir” instead of “bonjour.” Cheerfully acknowledging panhandlers instead of ignoring them completely. Ordering cheese for dessert.
All important stuff, right? But not the most important.
Because the French also have some actual laws mandating certain behaviors. Some will get you fined if you break them, others just add a bit of frustration to your daily activities. It’s the price you pay for the quality of life we’re enjoying in France.
For example:
Men must wear Speedos at municipal pools
No baggy trunks. No Bermuda shorts. And definitely no cut-offs. The French want clear and convincing evidence of your family jewels, tucked and tight. Why? Something to do with hygiene, but I suspect it has something to do with preserving the chic image of le bel homme français. Which is why, I’m guessing, they don’t enforce the rule when I show up at the pool.
It’s against the law to trim backyard hedges in the summertime
It depends on your town’s local rules, but mostly you can’t use your trimmer — electric or otherwise — between mid-March and the end of August. Why? There’s that question again; this time, though, there’s a good answer: The birdies! Hedge-cutting endangers nests. Mess with them and it can cost you up to €750 in fines – and lots more if you disturb an endangered species.
You can’t mow your lawn at lunchtime
The fine is the equivalent of $75 if you rev up your Husqvarna between noon and 2 p.m., and that includes Saturdays, Sundays and holidays. This law is about peace and quiet, and I’m all for that. French wine and cheese, after all, are best enjoyed without the accompaniment of a 90db, two-stroke Briggs & Stratton.
There is no leash law for most dogs
Unless it’s a pitbull, Rottweiler or a similar so-called “attack” dog, your mutt can roam the rues sans leash. It’s all about canine rights, I suppose. In any case, it absolutely freaks me out. Not because I’m scared; I love dogs! But I damn near die every time I see a pup run out into traffic. Weirdly, you must use a leash in the woods between April and June. That’s when those rules to protect nesting critters kick in.
Cyclists can not use blinking red lights on their bikes
The cops are sticklers on bike rules, often setting up roadblocks that randomly pull over cyclists to check on compliance. No talking on cell phones, no earbuds, no more than two abreast, among other rules. And you better have the correct lights and reflectors, even if it’s daytime, especially the red light on the rear. It can’t be a blinking strobe, either, because they can trigger a seizure in the rider to your rear.
You don’t need a driver’s license if your car is small
I mean really small, like the tiny 2-seaters that you see putt-putting around with all the horsepower of a Singer sewing machine. The contraptions, known as VSPs (voiture sans permis), are usually held together with duct tape; inevitably you’ll find yourself behind one, poking along Brittany's backroads. (I’m told they can get up to 45 mph, but I think that’s only when they’re dropped off the side of a cliff.) Anyway, you don’t need a license to drive one, a handy loophole that makes them popular among those who lost theirs after blowing a point-oh-five.
It is forbidden for employers to allow workers to eat their meals at their desks
The law is one of the reasons you find many stores and businesses shuttered between 12:30 and 2 p.m. It goes back to the late 19th-century years of the Industrial Revolution, when workers were commonly forced to eat on the floor of factories. Health experts thought the practice promoted the spread of disease (this is pre-RFK Jr.), so they ordered workplaces emptied at lunch to literally clear the air. The rule still exists, so while it’s a PITA for shoppers and anyone else looking for services at lunchtime, chalk one up for the working man and woman.
It’s illegal to park all day in most towns
I’m talking about on-street parking in business and tourist districts — the exact place you’d like to leave your car while spending the day sightseeing in one of France’s picturesque villages. Cars ruin the quaint vibe, so most towns have zones bleues, sketchily marked areas for locals to use while making a dash to the boulangerie. Parking is limited to 90 minutes, but you won’t see meters. Instead, you have to remember to bring along a disque de stationnement, a placard with a spinning dial set to your time of arrival. Stick it on your dashboard and return before you get ticketed. Fines are usually €35. If you want to park longer, find a paid lot on the outskirts of town and hoof it to that ancient cathedral.
There’s no such thing as free delivery of books
Unlike in America, where online book purchases usually include free delivery, here you should be prepared to shell out an extra €3 to get it mailed to your home. No surprise, this is an anti-Amazon rule, passed by the government to protect independent bookstores against the multinational conglomerate. It seems to be working, too. I count 26 brick-and-mortar librairies in our one-square-kilometer Centre-ville.
Short-haul flights are illegal
You can’t fly from Rennes to Paris, or Paris to Bordeaux, or between any two cities that can be reached in under 2.5 hours by rail. It’s a carbon-related restriction, and — with France’s amazing high-speed rail system — it’s hardly a travel burden.
Topless bathing is legal
I really don’t have any commentary on this. Just thought I’d mention it.
Good commentary, I’ve had friends from France and the UK visit my home at the Jersey shore over the years that I had to strongly advise to go into town and purchase baggy swim trunks as their speedos would be met with disapproving stares. They thanked me as did my wife! A couple guys wore them anyway.
Also dated a young lady I met in France and she insisted on sun bathing topless. I thought my father would have a heart attack.
Different customs!
Reminds me of purchasing my first swim trunks in France. Back in the last century, I did an independent study project while visiting my future spouse for several months at L'Université de Rennes where she was studying for a year.
After learning that I would not be admitted to a pool with my cut-off jeans, I went to a sports store somewhere in the middle of Rennes and engaged a young sales lady to assist me in purchasing swim trunks. I said I wasn't quite ready for Speedos, so she showed me slightly larger trunks that had about half the fabric of my Jockey briefs.
I tried them on and found them a bit, ahem, snug. I asked her if I could get the next size up.
With a slight smile, she said, "But monsieur, you don't want them to fall off when you're swimming!" Sold.