La Carte Bleu Part III: The Mailbox

It’s been a long and arduous process. All I want is my bankcard… the famous carte bleu that will unlock numerous opportunities for la vie en France. After encountering a seemingly impassable obstacle (the missing mailbox key), I finally thought I found a solution (get this all powerful facteur to open the box).

Winding our way up the mountain to the house, I was filled with wonder and anxiety. Was my French good enough to convey the message? Will the facteur leave the box open? Can I finally retrieve my card?

The stonewalls marking the end of our driveway came into view as we rounded the last curve of the Route du Phare. The mailbox, built into the left wall, looked as it always does.

Alex was the only one who could easily get out of our packed car. The two steps it took him to reach the mailbox felt like forever.

“And?!?!”

“It’s open!” he announced, and slowly pulled the door ajar.

I couldn’t stand it. “What’s in it? What’s there?!"

“A bee’s nest. A couple spiders. And this.” In his hands, he held a stack of mail.

We weeded through it together once we reached the house. Mostly junk, outdated magazines, a few letters for our neighbor, and a couple birthday cards for my grandfather. And two letters from BNP.

I was so relieved. Finally! My secret code and my card! The French send them separately for “added safety.”

I tore the first envelope open. My code was revealed to me; I have a pin to use at ATMs!

That obviously means this second envelope is filled with the card, right? My fingers pealed back the paper to reveal… another secret code. And no card.

I wanted to cry.

‘Tomorrow, then,’ I told myself, ‘tomorrow it’ll come.”


Tomorrow came. Again we were in the car and Alex was the only one who could easily slide in and out. He pulled back the door.

“What’s in it? What’s there?!”

“A lizard,” he said. Sure enough, a small gecko scrambled out.

“No card?”

“No card.”

Still.