Three years ago I left my life in Canada to move back to France

Part 2 | How it’s been going & lessons I've learned.

Welcome back to the second part of my story—an honest reflection of our move from Canada to France with my husband, Marc, and our ever-loyal dog, Sophie. In this chapter, I take a moment to pause and truly assess the experience: the highs and lows, the triumphs and struggles. I’ll share the raw reality of what it’s been like to return “home” and my thoughts on the current state of France - including some quirks about French culture that, despite being born and raised here, I still haven’t quite readjusted to as an adult.

If you haven’t read Part 1 yet, I recommend starting there for the full picture!

And if you have any questions about making the leap to France yourself, feel free to drop a comment—I’d be happy to try and help. Also, let me know if you enjoyed this piece and whether you’d like to see more content like this in the future.

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In this Part 2, you’ll read about:

• Buying a home in France.

• Inflation and affording good food in France.

• The ups and downs of working with French people.

• The luxury of having all of France and Europe just a few hours away.

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On buying a home in France.

The moment we stepped into our eight-month lease apartment, we knew the clock was already ticking. We had to think about what came next. After the gruelling experience of hunting for a rental and the ever-rising prices in Brittany’s housing market, we figured “why not try to buy”? A beachfront house was out of the question (one day, perhaps, if/when we become millionaires), but a charming apartment in the city, closer to work, felt like a solid first step.

We started, like many hopeful buyers, by scrolling through Le Bon Coin or Se Loger (France’s versions of Craigslist), only to realize that most listings were… let’s say, creatively described. Undeterred, we turned to real estate agencies, hoping for better luck. But visit after visit, we kept encountering the same issues: way over budget or just plain uninspiring. Then, during one particularly disappointing tour, a real estate agent let us in on a little secret—the listings that made it to their website? Those were the leftovers. The gems never even got that far. Good apartments were snatched up before they could be posted, available only to those on an agency’s sacred waiting list.

With this insider knowledge, we ditched the listings and got proactive. We called every agency in town, sweet-talked our way onto their lists, and made our wishes clear: a cozy apartment with character, wooden floors, vintage charm but no major renovations needed, and—if the stars aligned—a little backyard for our dog.

And then, like magic (or rather, efficient networking), just one month later, we got the call. An agent had found something perfect, and we could visit that very night. We walked in and - bam - love at first sight. A beautifully renovated 1930s apartment with all of its soul intact: warm wooden floors, an old-school kitchen sink with vintage tiles, spacious sunlit rooms, and—best of all—a backyard.

Sometimes, house hunting is a brutal game. And sometimes, if you play it right, you win.

We put in an offer just two days later—at the asking price—and the owner accepted it immediately. No drama, no bidding war, no nail-biting suspense. If you’re used to cutthroat real estate markets, this might sound like a fairy tale, but in France, that’s just how it works. Here, if someone offers the asking price and it's the only offer on the table, the owner is legally bound to accept. Shocking, I know!

In the end, buying a place turned out to be way easier than searching for a rental. But before we could pop the champagne, the real challenge—the truly nerve-wracking part—was still ahead…

Once our offer was accepted, we embarked on a four-month journey through the French real estate maze. First stop: the compromis de vente, a 10-day grace period where we could still back out (not that we wanted to). Next, we had to put down a 10% deposit to secure the deal—while our bank took its sweet time deciding whether it liked us enough to approve our mortgage.

Then came the waiting game. We had two months to secure financing (or, if you already own a place, to sell it before you find yourself juggling two mortgages and a lot of stress). At the same time, we had to find a notary—because in France, both buyer and seller need one to draft and negotiate the sales contract. No notary, no deal.