FLUSHED WITH SUCCESS
How a British plumber has found the good life in France
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French plumbing, famed for its poor piping
and hole-in-the-ground toilets, and the butt of many jokes by the millions of
British tourists who holiday in France every year, has nonetheless served the
interests of one particular Londoner rather well. Paul Sephton, 47, who was
born and brought up in South Ruislip, Middlesex, set off for the south of
France in 1973 and says that the thought of returning to England has never once
crossed his mind. It is not difficult to see why.
Sitting in the gardens of his attractive,
detached villa, situated just outside of Montpellier in the sunny region of the
Languedoc-Roussillon, and sipping a cool beer next to the swimming pool which
he constructed himself a few years ago, Paul claims that it is his Englishness
that has enabled him to succeed in France.
"People out here are very happy to have
an English plumber. It’s a sort of status symbol. It sounds good. I have one
customer who tells his friends that he has the Queen’s plumber - le
plombier de la reine. Down here in the south at least half the people
have Latin roots. That means that they have no idea of what being on time
means. So if you are punctual and reliable they look at you with amazement and
consider that they have found a friend for life. Of course people kid me -
worrying that I might put the pipes the wrong way round because we drive on the
other side of the road. But you can rest assured that I give as good as I
get."
Paul, who is more than a little modest about
his success, attributes everything he has acquired - which includes a small
boat moored at the nearby resort town of Palavas - to luck. Having fallen out
with his brother-in-law boss over two decades ago, he hired a van, put the few
items of furniture he owned in it, and drove down towards Montpellier in the
hope of finding a better life in the south of France, with his French wife by
his side and £500 cash in his pocket. His timing, though far from his choosing,
proved to be impeccable: the city happened to be on the brink of changing from
town gas to natural gas and within a week he had managed to secure full-time
employment, setting up on his own a few years later.
Having fared well in France, eventually
managing to master the intricacies of the French language - including its
specialist plumbing vocabulary - Paul is now quick to spring to the defence of
his adopted homeland:
"That whole thing about French plumbing
not being up to scratch is a load of old rubbish anyway," he insists.
"Some members of my own family still won’t come out to France because they
think French plumbing is so bad. They have got this thing in their head about
Turkish toilets. In fact plumbing is more advanced than in England: we have 10
sizes of pipes over here - whereas only 2 exist in England. And here you have
to be able to work your pipes, to make piping aesthetically attractive: in the
UI I seem to remember that everything was shoved under the floorboards,
including sloppy workmanship too.
"There is just one problem here,"
Paul admits with a slight lilt that has begun to betray his many years in
France, "and that is the social charges. They take 60 per cent of what you
can earn - there are so many taxes its crippling - the worst system in the
world."
Whereas in England plumbers often rely upon
central heating work for their income, the balmy, Mediterranean climate means
that only a minority of homes have boilers and radiators installed. Fortunately
for Paul though, the main water supply, which comes from the Cévennes mountain
range, is so full of lime that piping, machinery and appliances soon come to be
coated with thick layers of corrosive white chemical, the repairing and removal
of which continues to provide him with brisk business indeed.
He might well have ruled out a return to the
green and pleasant land of his childhood, but he will readily admit to an
occasional yearning for life a l’anglaise, whether that be
drinking a pint in the local pub or enjoying a nice strong cup of tea -
deficiencies only partially remedied by relatives and friends (but not his
brother-in-law) bringing out an apparently endless supply of Tetley tea-bags
and various other goodies such as Garibaldi biscuits and Bistro gravy granules.
"For me it has all been a great success.
I had nothing when I came here. Now I had a house, a pool and a boat. I don’t
think all of that would have come my way in England. Here I stand out - people
remember me - whereas in England I do think that would have remained one of the
crowd. Some English people who see my way of life here, which includes quite a
bit of golf, look on a little enviously - commenting that it must be very nice.
It is. But you still have to work. You still have to pay your bills. And when I
got to work outside the temperature can be anything up to 35 degree - and that
hits you. And then it’s my turn to be working while I watch other people with
their feet up by their swimming pools."
It will perhaps come as no surprise to
discover that Paul is prepared to heartily endorse the title of Edith Piaf’s
well-known song:
"No regrets. Of course not. No regrets
at all. I would even encourage others to have a go. But not too close to my
small patch please!"
The main Web site of freelance writer Jeremy Josephs
is at www.jeremyjosephs.com Please
check there if you might be interested in engaging him as a writer.
Many of his articles are available online.
Please check the sitemap
for a complete list.