Living History

A journey from France

At school as a child, my father had studied geography, and he was fascinated by both America and Australia. He applied for visas for himself and his wife and two of his four children to emigrate to both America and Australia as they were the countries that interested him the most. The visa application to Australia came through first, so my father and his wife sold everything they owned to pay for the voyage from France to Australia. They made their preparations to leave their home in France and bid goodbye to their families who were staying behind. They were excited about leaving France for a new home; they had not wanted to stay in France for many reasons and were very eager to leave.

From 1943 until 1956 when Morocco gained independence, my father and his family lived a very happy life in Casablanca. He had been very happy there, and was very sad to leave. When they returned to France, my father went to French Canada. He was not happy in France, as there were problems with the taxes and income, disputes with neighbours and, he tells me, it was very difficult to live there, especially with children. There wasn't a lot of help for families, and it was especially hard to find work if a person were aged over 40. This was why my father travelled so much, looking for work in other countries because there was none to be had in France.

My father tells me that he and his family were all tired of living in France especially after living in Morocco -- the buildings in France were black from the smog stains, but the family had had no choice but to return to France from Morocco. The battle for independence in Morocco had been fierce, and there were murders of foreigners there during that time in 1956, so the family had returned to France, landing in Marseille. Because my father had travelled so much before and after the Second World War, he could see the difference in the quality of life in France compared to other places, and he and his wife could no longer cope with life in France. He went to Canada first, for the experience, and was offered citizenship there as he was the first arrival direct from France. He laughs when he talks of his time in Quebec, a place he loved very much, but the winters were too cold for him to consider permanent citizenship there and so he returned to France. Upon his return, my father and his wife discussed their options for emigration and decided to apply to both Australia and America.

When the family arrived in Sydney after a long 52 day voyage from Marseille, everything my father saw was wonderful. Immediately, he saw that the quality of life was better than France, that people were happy, the climate was beautiful, the land was stunning and there were a lot of opportunities. Because it was May, the weather was wonderful, when they had left France it was winter – and here in Australia, even though people were telling them that this was the winter weather, he could not believe that this temperate climate was not summer! His daughter had serious asthma in France and when the family arrived here in Australia, her asthma had gone. That was another reason the family had decided to leave France, to change climates for her to help her cope with her asthma.

My father was very happy to arrive in Australia. It was 1963, and he came to Adelaide on the 9th May after arriving in Sydney on the 7th. His second son was aged 18 and his second daughter was aged 11 and they were with him and his wife. The family travelled on a boat that departed from Marseille fifty two days beforehand. It was a cargo and passenger vessel, cheaper than flying. My father didn't like planes and still doesn't but he loves travelling by boat, especially on the sea.

My father had a good, long time friend, Mrs. Andrews, who he had known since living in France. She worked in an Australian bank, and they had been corresponding regularly. The family had arrived, not knowing anything about Australian life and so the immigration department had helped them get in touch with Mrs. Andrews for help, and she came to my father's aid. So, because she lived in Adelaide, my father decided that the family would move there. They went from Sydney to Adelaide by train, and the climate was most satisfactory – my father said to me, "Anywhere where there are grape vines, apricots, plums, life will be good!" It was easy to find the fruits of Europe and the hills were close, and of course, the beach.

Always a beach lover, my father fell in love with the Adelaide coastline and particularly Glenelg. There was no pollution as there was in France. The scent of the ocean was very strong, and it was wonderful. Glenelg also reminded my father a lot of the east French seaside village Capbreton, and he still enjoys going to Glenelg to this day. These days, the suburb is not as much as it was, it is much more commercial and vibrant and in my father's words, "It's amazing!"

My father's first impression of Adelaide was that it was so small! It made him laugh, because it was so small, smaller than the cities in France, Morocco and Canada that he had lived in. In the 1960's, there wasn't as much urban development as there is now. Despite the size, my father liked it as soon as he saw it, although he found life to be very frustrating because it was hard to find work -- very hard. He had wanted to try to reapply to go to America, but it was not possible, because the family had bought a house and his wife had a business and his children had friends. In the end, he started working for himself, doing small jobs and radio and television repairs, just as he had done in France.

The quality of life back then in Adelaide was better than it is now – it was cheap and it was easy to feed a family if they lived on a low income. He was very content here in Adelaide, his son got a job working on scooter engines, his daughter went to school, and his wife worked as a seamstress. They were all happy; they bought a house in Adelaide with the money left from the things they had sold in France. They had enough after paying off their debts to buy furniture and the deposit on a house and my father's wife had a shop in Medindie, where she worked as a self-employed seamstress. It was a good life, and the family were happy.

In 1966, my father's wife died, just before Christmas, on the 22nd of December. He says, "That was terrible, the worst Christmas." It was a traffic accident; she was riding behind him on his Vespa scooter as they travelled to visit friends for the holiday. My father continued to work to support the children, and got some help from Social Security as well. He met his second wife -- my mother -- in 1972, and they had a daughter – me – (his third daughter) and were married that same year.

Overall, my father says it was very easy to emigrate here. My father was naturalised as an Australian citizen in 1971, and he remains a dual citizen. He is proud to call himself an Australian: a French Australian.

Lydie (submitted on behalf of Marcel), Adelaide, South Australia

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