Mark and I spent another day at La Baule when the latest heat wave started on Tuesday. It’s not my favourite destination, but it’s one of the closest seaside towns, plus I found cheap TGV tickets—a treat since we’re used to slower TER trains commonly used for short trips.
We were feeling lightheaded and silly because of the heat, and at one point during the day, we agreed to rename “La Baule” the “wow-check-out-this-car-city” because this is what Mark was saying every two metres pointing to a Porsche, a Lamborghini, a Tesla or some kind of fancy ride, most of them I didn’t know existed outside of Batman’s garage. We even saw a guy double parking a torch red Corvette with a California licence plate, go buy a baguette, and jump back in the car nobody but Mark and I were admiring.
Most sociological subtleties are lost on Mark—to him, La Baule is a “rich people’s place.”
But to me, the “what planet am I on?” feeling always starts on the train to La Baule.
If you’re going to Saint-Gilles, Les Sables or other normal seaside towns, trains are full of unruly kids, teenagers who can’t stop kissing and gossiping, parents handing out travel-size packs of chips just to get a break, and regular passengers with regular backpacks or tote bags going places.
Passengers to La Baule don’t look like they’re going to the beach—women wear heavy perfume and block the aisles with spotless Hermès luggage; men wear immaculately pressed Ralph Lauren polo shirts and pants. If they have kids, you can expect four of five siblings very close in age, all dressed in navy blue as if they were page boys and flower girls going to a wedding.
Posh passengers usually board the train in either Paris or Nantes, and their final stop is La Baule—where else would they spend their summer holiday? They are always expected by relatives at the station and it’s always a unique “overheard in La Baule” moment—“Jean-Charles, Louise-Marie and Pierre-François, will you join us at the horse racing event tonight?”, “I asked the maid to get the pool ready!” or “I can’t even wear my gold ring with this heat, it gets hot on my finger.”
Meanwhile, I’m heading to Carrefour to buy a couple of water bottles that should last the entire day because it’s priced like champagne close to the beach.
And yes, it’s easy to spot La Baule’s upper-class society on the sand as well. Kids take $100/hour jet ski lesson, old men show off their trophy wife—the Ursula Andress look, but with a one-piece swimsuit, is popular—, and kids call their mum “Mother.”
I may have screamed “eat the rich!” as a teen during protests but I’ve mellowed a bit since I’ve discovered the real world. I don’t resent wealthy people. In fact, unlike most French—this is probably an attitude I picked up in North America—I don’t think money should be taboo because it’s a wonderful thing to have as a tool to make life easier. Basically, I don’t have anything against people who work hard, make money and enjoy it—good for them.
However, I do find it completely baffling that in 2022, this old bourgeoisie is apparently still enjoying century-old inherited privileges—around Nantes, most of them got their wealth from the slave trade…
I know these people. I accidentally went to school with them—not a private school, obviously, my family doesn’t have money, connections or religious beliefs. But I had good grades and I took Chinese as a major so I ended up in a posh school where my classmates lived in huge apartments (families usually owned the entire building…), went to La Baule in the summer, spent the winter holiday skiing and flew to some exotic place for Christmas. They were all white, Catholic, supposed to marry each other eventually and perpetuate the same lifestyle which isn’t terribly hard when you’re offered a good education, money, access to a network of powerful people, and good jobs.
Mark and I ended up at Le Pouliguen, another town at the far end of the beach—still posh, but more relaxed.
I’m solidly working-class, borderline anarchist, and married to a Chinese—I don’t belong there… still fascinating to see, though.
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> Basically, I don’t have anything against people who work hard, make money
Certes, mais les gens qui ont de l’argent N’ONT PAS travaillé plus dur que les autres. Ils ont juste bénéficié d’une position avantageuse dès leur naissance (Elon Musk par exemple en est un cas extrême. Sa famille faisait déjà parti des 1% à sa naissance. Il n’a pas travaillé plus dur qu’un autre, il a juste gagné au loto).
L’expression 《 L’avenir appartient à ceux qui se lèvent tôt 》 est un mensonge capitaliste. L’expression qui reflète le plus la réalité est 《 L’avenir appartient à ceux dont les employés se lèvent tôt. 》
Ces 20 dernières années, combien de grosses compagnies ont été sauvées de la faillite ou sont juste subventionnées par des gouvernements peu regardant à coup de milliards quand des enfants ne mangent pas à leur faim ? Compagnies dont les dirigeants vont venir t’expliquer que si t’es pauvre, c’est de ta faute et qu’il faut arrêter de compter sur l’état.
I was more thinking of “regular” wealthy people, not the super-rich. Many of my friends in Canada did nicely starting from absolutely nothing, or rather starting with a working-class background. I guess you could include Feng and I… and by “doing nicely”, I mean not living pay cheque to pay cheque. For the super-rich, I agree, the system is rigged from the start.
Yes, but people who can afford a Lamborghini or a Ferrari are very probably obscenely rich.
In France, to be in the top 10% of earners, you only need to earn more than 3000€/month (after taxes, i think). That’s not being rich.
Have you read ”Riche, pourquoi pas toi?” from Marion Montaigne (cartoonist), Monique Pinçon-Charlot and Michel Pinçon (both are sociologists) ? It’s a very interesting essay on what it means to be rich, with the hidden privileges that come with it and that aren’t available for common people, even the one who have a good salary.
T’m familiar with the work of the Pinçon-Charlot couple 😉 I’ll check out this one!
Je me souviens avoir fait la même chose à Monaco devant toutes ces belles voitures, tu n’es pas le seul Mark! Aren’t they amazing? 😉
Monaco must be fascinating! I’d love to spend a day there just to step into what I’m guessing is a very strange world.
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