This summer has been the hottest on record where I live in Burgundy. It could have been disastrous for the grapes as temperatures reached nearly 40°C. Luckily, most of the vineyards in the Côte d’Or were able to move les vendanges to mid-August instead of early September, when they were expecting to harvest. Apparently, it will be a good year nevertheless.
I moved to the little village of Meursault eight years ago in October, to help with grandchildren. My daughter Annabelle works for Domaine Roulot and her husband is winemaker for Domaine de Montille. They were busy harvesting the grapes that autumn. Not any more – most vignerons here, and probably elsewhere in France, think cooler summers will never return.
In mid-August, I fainted from the heat, broke my sacrum, and spent two-and-a-half weeks in the local hospital. The hospital saved my life, pumping me with fluids for severe dehydration, and I’m thankful for that. But it took three days for them to X-ray my lower back. Maybe they were hoping I’d give up asking so they could save money, or were punishing me for my American screams.
The French medical system has failed to address years of worsening care – there are not enough doctors, nurses or staff to do menial tasks. Many employees were allowed to take off two weeks to pick grapes before returning to the hospital. If my children hadn’t fed me, I may have died of starvation.
My daughter smuggled in meals prepared by the chef Jean-Marc Roulot, a sixth-generation winemaker. Jean-Marc is a gourmet and well-known actor who starred in the 2023 film A Taste of Things (La Passion de Dodin Bouffant). He played Augustine Yannick, a forester who takes his fellow gourmands to his hut in the woods to eat ortolan, a rare songbird. It’s the delicacy François Mitterrand ate for his last supper and which is now protected. When my daughter was busy, my son-in-law brought fresh croissants and quiches. Much of this is provided by the winemakers themselves. There is low-key competition between domaines in Meursault to treat their seasonal workers well so that they will return to work the next year.
I’m lucky because some of the food in French hospitals is awful. Let me share with you a typical day’s menu: plastic-wrapped biscuits for breakfast with a small glass of orange juice and coffee the colour of bile; watery vegetable soup; ‘moussaka’ that looked like cow dung; and small chunks of packaged camembert with a tasteless apricot for dessert.
My 12-year-old grandson called my meals ‘dégoûtants’ – disgusting. He should know; at his school he is served a decent lunch every day and raves about it. Why should schoolchildren eat better than the French in hospital? What happens to those patients that don’t have family or friends to nourish them? It was a question I asked a fellow patient. After whispering to me that the staff brought their own meals, she quickly put her right index finger to her lips to warn me not to complain or it could get worse. How could it?
My 12-year-old grandson called my meals ‘dégoûtants’ – disgusting
The dire situation in French healthcare is part of a general crisis: a dying economy, spiralling debt, uncertainty about what part France should play in ending the bloodshed in Ukraine, uncontrolled illegal immigration, anti-Semitism, mounting crime and a population that has lost any faith it had in its government.
The fractured left is calling for a general strike on 18 September, ten days after the confidence vote in parliament that could topple the Macron government. It’s a good thing the grape-picking was moved forward to August. There is a protest movement, too, called ‘Let’s Block Everything’, who are also gearing up to… well, block everything.
Many pharmacies went on strike in July, hoping to make life as difficult as possible for the French so they might elect the very far-left Jean-Luc Mélenchon. The socialists hope to replace Marine Le Pen, who has been convicted of embezzlement and is barred from running, should Macron fall. Unless cafés, bistros, brasseries and restaurants close, however, it’s hard to see how life will change for the average Frenchman, who will still eat extremely well.
For me, I’ve told my children to let me die chez moi, in my bed, should I fall again – with croissants for breakfast and good bœuf bourguignon with pommes vapeur, fresh courgettes followed by a slice of tarte tatin for dinner. No more French hospitals or French hospital food for moi, s’il vous plaît.