Nothing’s easy about living in France, especially for an ex-pat like me. I’m not good with details. By that I mean, I don’t let details interfere with what I need to do. Like buying a car in France.
Remember Lucy? She’s a 1997 red Citroen. I bought her five years ago. (Read more here…)
I haven’t driven Lucy very much. I was either traveling or spending time in the States. She was an expensive convenience. It cost more to park and maintain her each year than she was worth. So when I moved to my new apartment, I decided to economize. I took away Lucy’s underground parking privileges.
There are perfectly good open air parking lots only steps away from the apartment at half the cost.
Apparently, Lucy took offense. Almost immediately, she decided to prove her red paint job was only a hint of her fiery temper. She began to act up. Long story short, Lucy fell into a ditch, damaged her underside, and became a worthless heap of metal.
This brings me to “buying a car in France.”
Buying a car in France
What I’m going to tell you now is a good example of “do what I say, not what I do.” This is especially meant for Americans relocating to France, but it could apply to more.
Get your French drivers license your first year.
From my understanding, Americans have two ways to get a French driver’s license: the “easy” way, or the stressful, hard, complicated, and frustrating way. To take advantage of the easy way, you have to move here from a state that has reciprocity with France, or a “reciprocal” state. Check here for your state.
If your state is listed, you’re one of the lucky ones. You “simply” exchange your US license for a French one. I notate “simply” because there’s nothing’s simple in France, especially dealing with French bureaucracy. The simple exchange took eight months for one friend.
For those of us without reciprocity, we must earn our driver’s license the hard way. That means, we must study the French driver’s code, take a test; then pass a practical driving test with a dual-control car … and a French instructor. Did I mention the code test is in French? And it’s administered only one day each month in my department, the Gard. The good news is that people my age can pay for a translator for the code test. The whole process takes months. First example: I ordered a copy of the driver’s codebook translated to English. It took 2 weeks to arrive.
Believe me, you’ll be hearing more about the driver’s license.
Back to buying a new car in France
Before I was confronted with the driver’s license problem, I was in full swing trying to buy a new car. With a great deal of thought, I decided to buy a Citroen 3 from my neighborhood Citroen dealer. The mechanics and front desk staff were always kind to me on the few occasions I’d taken Lucy to be serviced there. In particular, one lady at the front desk could speak English. Before I went to the dealership, I called and asked her to join me for my appointment with the salesman.
While discussing my car needs with the Citroen salesman, I choose a 3-year lease option. It was not the cheapest choice, but it was the most practical for me.
You see, I know or care very little about cars. I just want transportation.
The idea of a 3 -year lease, with no bother for maintenance, and the garage within walking distance of my apartment, was a no-brainer for me. It was a done deal. I signed up.
The waiting game
If you’re used to the US way of life, when you buy or lease a new car, you can often drive home in the new car. It’s not so here. After two weeks and many phone calls to the salesman, I had no car. Finally, when I received the call that I could pick up my car in a couple of days, I contacted my insurance agent so that he would switch the insurance from Lucy to the new car. I reminded him that I had no French driver’s license.
“No French drivers license? ” he said. “Then, no insurance. “
What??? Did I hear that right? After writing insurance for Lucy for six years, he could no longer insure me?
Yes, I heard it correctly. It seems the agent recently read up on policy requirements for Americans.
“It’s a good thing for both of us that I never had a wreck!”
Now what? I had signed for the car. The deal was sealed. I was supposed to pick up the car in two days.
Guess what? Dealerships don’t care if you have a license. The car was mine.
When I calmed myself down, I called on my most reliable problem-solver friend for help. She’s not French, but she’s been an estate agent in France for years. That should say it all.
She made a few calls, speaking in French, to the car salesman, and to the Citroen district office. Then she sent lettres recommandées (registered letters) to those she’d spoken with canceling the order. Fortunately, the car people were considerate. I was out of the deal. Thank goodness my friend knows the French ropes.
Now I’m back to square one. No car, no license, no traveling on my own. No crowds, no tours, Safe outings only. It’s a COVID world.
Guess it’s time to paint all the furniture in my apartment.
Categories: Around France