Cycling in Europe

One of the things I will miss most in returning home to Boston after six weeks on a work assignment in France is the cycling culture here (please stop snickering, this is serious). Except for a one day car rental to pick up my family from the airport in Geneva, which was an adventure, we have relied entirely on non-automobile transportation.

Even real cities like Geneva (just over the border in Switzerland) or Annecy have bike lanes all over town. The automobile traffic is usually considerate of cyclists. The countryside is full of regular riders of all ages and shapes, and also world-class athletes. My family got to see the latter race in the Criterium Dauphine. I also get to see them in teams, from behind, as they pass me on the roads cruising along at perhaps double my pace. Sometimes, they have a cheery word of condolence for me -- pointing out in French as best I can tell that the headwind is strong, as if that would explain why I alone am affected.

Every type of public transportation seems to accept bicycles. The inter-city bus driver will stop and block traffic in order to open the cargo area for a bicycle. On Saturday, my family caught a special city bus from Annecy to the peak of a mountain called the Semnoz. Fully half of the interior of the public bus was dedicated to hooks for mountain bicycles, and every single hook was filled. The cyclists have what looked to be a glorious reckless path downhill back to Annecy. Then, a couple days later near the Mt. Blanc range, there were kids with mountain bikes on a cable car ride!

The rail-to-trail bike path nearby from Annecy to near Albertville is the best I have ever traveled for length, quality, and landscape. The mountain roads are nice too. Here is a Map My Ride link and image for my favorite ride this summer, a loop from Talloires around the La Tournette range and then over the Col de L'Epine, which will be part of the Tour de France this year.

Among the various explanations for the "French Paradox" -- the surprisingly moderate rates of obesity and chronic disease amidst a culture of enjoying plenty of delicious food -- some scientists focus on the modest traditional portion sizes or some magic chemical in the skin of red wine grapes. But, watching all the walking and bicycling, and the priceless treasures of public investments in facilities for non-automobile transportation, I can't help wondering if the output side of the energy balance equation deserves the credit.

Food in France

This is my third week working in a medieval priory in the small village of Talloires on the shores of Lake Annecy in France. I get my freshly baked long loaf of bread and news about the weather from the village boulangerie early each morning. I get my cheese and vegetables from the farmers' marche in the afternoon.

But what has been most fascinating hasn't been these traditional food retail sources. If you imagine the most stereotypical French village bakery shop, vegetable stall at the farmer's market, and rustic dairy cheese store that you can, you'll have it exactly right. What more could I describe?

Instead, I keep noticing the strangely unfamiliar features of the more "modern" food sector. At the "Monoprix" in the nearby city of Annecy, the cashier sneers at you if you require a shopping bag. To an extent that would be astonishing in the United States, everybody here packs their groceries into their own reusable bags even in modern supermarkets.

There is a "8 a huit" -- literally "8 to eight" -- in the middle of the village, which has modern signage and looks like a Seven Eleven in the United States. You'll notice, though, that there are fewer hours in the retail chain's title, and that's the least of it. In addition, the store closes for two hours at lunch.

You might fear the "8 a huit" would push the local boulangerie out of business, but not at all. The baker is the source of bread for the "8 a huit." An American friend on the faculty here once went to the "8 a huit" in the afternoon and asked for some bread. The shop-keeper said they were out of bread for the day. My friend pointed to the American style wrapped factory-made sandwich bread. Oh that, said the store-keeper with disdain, and sold some.

On television here, George Clooney peddles Nescafe with a kitschy ad in which he flirts with two pretty women who are describing something with adjectives like "full-bodied" and "sophisticated," but it turns out to be the coffee not the movie star. There are advertisements for McDonald's on the television, but they run with a news ticker along the bottom warning you to eat plenty of fruits and vegetables, along with a link to a national website (see accompanying images), somewhat akin to the Dietary Guidelines for Americans. The label for my container of table sugar includes advice not to eat too much sugar.

From the tenor of food labeling and dietary guidance political debate in the United States, one would think that such policies would cause a complete collapse of the food system. But, they seem to be doing just fine.

Tufts in Talloires

I leave this weekend for a six-week stint as Scholar-in-Residence at the Tufts European Center in Talloires, France, about 45 minutes from Geneva. I will continue writing from afar. Please leave comments with ideas for U.S. Food Policy topics to cover from a European perspective. ("That shouldn't count as work!" is an editorial comment, not a topic suggestion). A bientot!