Paris: a city of love, light and bureaucracy, and the home of this faithful reporter for the rest of the year.

Since arriving at the end of August, I have watched the seasons turn, and experienced the mythic rentrée, that is, the return of work, school and routine. In this period, swarms of seasonal tourists are replaced by Parisians finally coming home after their summer break, filling the city with new energy.

La rentrée is more than just ‘back to school’, it is the complete cultural reset of the city: bakeries re-open, clubs and social groups start up again, and hundreds of new novels hit bookshelves for the rentrée littéraire.

During this period, I have indulged in great pastries, swam in the questionable water of the Canal Saint Martin, and enjoyed many an aperitif on the Parisian terraces.

Despite these treats, for this Australian abroad, it has not all been smooth sailing.

There is for one thing, a language barrier. Speaking French in and of itself does not phase me – I am an avid language learner and, so far, Parisians have waited graciously for me to force my cumbersome anglophone tongue to make the foreign sounds.

However, my determination not to switch to English has also landed me in some unfortunate situations, such as when I adamantly argued that the crime of viol should have a lesser weight in the French criminal justice system, believing it to mean thievery (vol), rather than its true meaning, rape.

By the time I realised my mistake, the conversation had long moved on.

On another occasion, as I was scouring my local kitchenware store in the attempt to find a stainless-steel frypan, I remarked to the sales assistant that the object I was searching for did not exist in his shop.

Perhaps, offended that I could not find what I was looking for, or struck by arguably my poor word choice and the metaphysical nature of the verb exist, the sales attendant laughed and said in his equally accented English, “Wow, your French is really bad”.

Thank you for your feedback, Monsieur, but I will be sure to keep trying.

Another hurdle has been the French bureaucratic system, whose complexity cannot be understated. I have spent many hours sending emails and venturing on city-wide treasure hunts in the attempt to find the correct office for my queries.

Perhaps there is good reason for the complexity, as France does have one of the most comprehensive social welfare systems in the world.

Whilst the system is by no means perfect, threatened both by neoliberal pressures to curb government spending and the increasing costs of living, to this foreigner, there is nonetheless a pleasant sense of being (at least somewhat) looked after by the state.

Students, for example, can access three course meals from university canteens for as little as €1, which includes an entrée, main course and dessert.

Employers are similarly financially incentivised to provide meal benefits, including via canteens and meal vouchers.

Perhaps as a corollary to the French welfare state – founded on their democratic values of liberté, égalité, fraternité – is the French love of protest, which I can confirm is not merely a stereotype.

In my first few days here, where I was following an intensive French language course, my French teacher was positively aghast when a classmate asked what a grève (strike) meant.

For the next 30 minutes, he proceeded to lecture us on French working-class history.

Just a few days later, French students closed down the road leading to the Panthéon, one of the major tourist sites in Paris, in order to protest against proposed university fee changes for international students.

All this is to say that politics here is not a private choice, but an explicitly public affair.

Even with the upcoming presidential election, despite final polling being a little over a year away, the streets are already filled with flyerists.

With a projected record number of candidates, Macron’s retirement, Le Pen’s recent guilty charge for embezzlement, and an international push towards the far right, the race is undoubtedly going to get hairy.

Now that Paris has awoken from its summer slumber, rest assured that Madame Camembert will be here to walk you through all of it.