Pardon monsieur, is that your coq in my face?

Yet another recent discovery I made about the French, is that they have no concept of ‘save the date’. “So what?” you may say. So I ended up sharing a room -not for the first time this year, but hopefully it’ll be the last and at least it wasn’t a bed share this time!

Another lucky bunch of retail tech entrepreneurs in Batch 3 Lafayette Plug and Play (LPNP) had just had their demo day, so the offices were very quiet when we arrived as most people were out having lunch at 1pm (lunch is a French national institution) . Except Guillaume L'hotis , who gave us a lovely warm greeting, ironic really as he hadn’t spoken two words to me since I first met him in February – which is another problem with young men in tech the world over – I’ll revert back to that later.

Marlene, is our new French Account manager and room mate for the trip – she’s French, but she lives in Rammy, the perfect combo for us. I was using the LPNP Christmas Party as a great opportunity for her French orientation. With the office quiet, we headed out to the world famous Galeries Lafayette store to get her familiar with the brand. I have to confess I have either walked or Ubered my way round Paris for months and never braved the Metro. A combination of not liking crowded confined spaces and the irrational fear of terrorism. The heavens opened on our walk over, there wasn’t an Uber to be had for ages (Uber in France is a bit like a communal bus, you’re often quicker walking, they pick up millions of people on a protracted route and rarely seem to know where they’re going. I think someone may have returned from a long lunch they day they wrote that algorithm- the tech equivalent of manufactured on a Friday). The driving rain forced us under ground and to my pleasant surprise, the Metro is very well signposted, particularly the exits. We alighted at the correct exit but were a tad frustrated we’d been told the wrong exit for it, and had to fight our way through the Paris traffic to get to the other side of the road to the store. It had changed massively since I was last in it. The number of Chinese visitors had exploded exponentially, the signage was in Chinese, there were massive waiting bays full of Chinese shoppers having a rest from their retail exploits and even the super friendly staff were Chinese. I was looking round for the world famous dome, we went up and down escalators and lifts, but it had vanished. We eventually asked the security guard, Chinese of course, how to get to it. It turned out we were in the special Chinese Galleries Lafayette store, suddenly it all made sense – bloody genius idea to tailor your business that much to attract the lucrative Chinese Euro. Apparently they had attracted so many Chinese visitors that the main store couldn’t accommodate them to the level of service they wanted to provide, and the bays are there so the none shoppers can stay near their group while the others shop at their leisure. Brilliant, or should I say, kerrching!

When we left the store, to our surprise, the giant glittering Galleries Lafayette store had been right by the exit we’d originally been directed to, in true panto style – it’s behind you!

The store was heaving, it reminded me of trips to Fenwicks in Newcastle as a child. We always used to go to see Fenwicks festive window when we came to England in the Christmas holidays to my grandparents, it signified the end of school and the start of a week of indulgence, early morning dog walks through the crunchy frost encrusted grass and trying to spend as much time in your PJ’s as possible. We pushed through the crowd at GL- after a spell in the hat department- is it just me or is trying on hats and scarves as much fun as playing in my mums dressing up box as a kid? The dome was breath taking, a total crowd stopper, literally. As you approached you were rooted to the spot and your eyes drawn heavenward. There was a giant balloon tree in the middle in a myriad of shiny colours, surrounded with more shaped balloons shooting up and down, a magical physical animation of Christmas. I was 5 years old again. We raced up the escalators for a better look and fought our way through the onlookers for a cheesy selfie. Layafette, you have totally nailed the Christmas retail experience that childhood memories are made of!

Research over, later that night we headed off to our Christmas Party. It wasn’t easy two women sharing a room trying to get ready. LPNP had waited until this week to confirm their date and we had to travel a day earlier than planned to get a cheaper flight, but the hotel rooms were also thin on the ground by then, so a family room looked the most economical option – the lengths I go to to manage costs, that’s why we’ve been profitable since September’16. Glyn thinks I’m just a bit tight, if you read about my accidental stay in a Parisian Brothel, you’d probably agree.

We stepped out on the Metro again, only to be trapped one station into our journey. They helpful advised us that there was an incident. All my terrorist fears had materialised. They then advised that there was a fire. A FIRE on the underground!!! Remarkably, everyone stayed calm on the train. Maybe this happens a lot? They finally advised that the fire incident had been dealt with and we’d be travelling on. In that short period of time, I’d mentally written my last goodbye to my husband and children and decided if there was anything salvageable from my remains that I’d like to donate it – my eyesight is amazing, but you probably wont consider you’d won the organ donation lottery if you’d ended up with my liver.

We eventually found the venue and were fashionably late, not quite as fashionably late as the French who turned up much later than us. They were very surprised that we hadn’t booked it sooner as it has been planned for weeks. The very well travelled and cosmopolitan Christian pointed out that the French have no concept of save the date, to them it is the date. At least I know for another time. It was a packed venue, it was great seeing old friends Dounia, Pieter, Alex, Theo and Matthieu and hearing about the new tech that’s just joined. Our friends from Europass have made it across the pond and are now in Edinburgh too. There does seem to be a clique of well informed ‘super’ startups who are in demand in the best accelerators and form a thread through the start up community. They, typically, are older, have blue chip experience and someone with a solid finance background involved. In Paris it feels like there are a lot more women founders on the teams, but I don’t know if that’s just a perception. I met up again with young Guillaume, whom I mentioned earlier. He beamed when we chatted. I asked why it had taken him months to engage with me, he said he wasn’t aware that he hadn’t. I pointed out that he and his mate swanned round the office in a two, like a pair of surly kids, barely grunting when I said hello, or should I say, Bonjour. He looked really crest fallen, he felt unable to talk as he hadn’t made it into our batch and was just renting space there. From my perspective I had connected to everyone I could on linkedin and invited them to come and say hello when I first got there back in February. First impressions last, I had felt quite rebuffed by him and not at all encouraged to talk to him based on his behaviour. Lessons to be learned on both sides. We have a saying in the North East ‘Shy bairns get nowt’ so whether it’s applying for accelerators or befriending your co-workers, don’t be shy - you have no idea on the opportunities or the relationships you could be missing out on.

The evening took a hilarious innuendo fuelled turn as talks moved onto Brexit and the fears for Europeans who had settled on both sides of the water. “It’s all about zis” said Charles as he whipped his cock out of his pocket and waved it in front of my face. “A cock, or is it, a chicken?” I quizzed, as I looked at the small plastic Poulet he was dangling before my eyes. “Zat is no chicken, zat is the French national identity”. (Sadly, I wasn't fast enough to get a picture of it and it was dark by then). Charles’ English wife of 20 years is finally taking the plunge and joining the chicken club by changing her identity to French. Traitor! We're busy setting ourselves us for visa status so, come what may, we should be able to hire from anywhere.

After a great party and an eventful induction to Paris we had a tortuous 13 hour trip home, trapped in the freezing Easy Jet terminal (it’s like something from the dark ages that CDG airport were planning to knock down but Easy Jet rented it on the cheap from them at the 11th hour), and then an equally tortuous 2 hour trip on the M60 where they were closing it for night works. HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ANYONE WORKING ON THAT MOTORWAY??? I’ve got a packed week this week, but I’m looking forward to breaking up for Christmas and seeing Frozen on the TV - we’ve had it on DVD forever, but there’s still something exciting about a big film making it onto terrestrial TV at Christmas. My youngest, Ted, just looked at me blankly when I gushed to him about it – must be a generational thing.

Have a very Merry Christmas one and all, thanks to all our amazing clients and superb team. I look forward to sharing all our Christmas cheer/results with you in the New Year. And if you're thinking of joining a great French Accelerator in the New Year or looking for office space, I can highly recommend the guys over at LPNP!