A French grape vendor at the market briefly transforms into a language teacher to help his British client pronounce the “u” in “muscat” correctly. It’s a highly ambitious undertaking, given the complexity of the sound for native English speakers.

While the scene may seem absurd at first glance, it’s pretty typical in Eymet, a village that’s received the moniker France’s “most British town.” This region of France is no stranger to the British. Aquitaine, the area where Eymet is located, was ruled by the English Crown for centuries, most notably by the famous Queen Eleanor of Aquitaine. However, today, the population of Eymet offers a distinctly modern example of the French-British relationship. 

Eymet is very special

In many respects, eccentricity is what best defines this small French town.

Rural municipalities often experience the decline of their town centers. Eymet, however, bucks this trend. According to Rose Lallemant, a communications officer for the city council, a vibrant hustle and bustle remains “all year around,” regardless of the season. Numerous restaurants offer a diverse range of cuisine from around the globe. It’s unusual for such a small town to have so much culinary diversity. 

However, one of the town’s main peculiarities is its thriving British community.

Among the approximately 2,700 inhabitants of Eymet, around 400 are citizens of the United Kingdom, with the majority being of English descent. That population includes a mix of retirees and younger families. Many more visit regularly, temporarily increasing the number of Brits in the town.

The phenomenon is not unique to this village nestled in the rural département of Dordogne. The latter has many cross-Channel residents, similar to many regions in Southwest France. However, the presence of British citizens is particularly noticeable in Eymet, where British residents operate a significant portion of the local businesses. 

Rose’s English Vintage Tearoom or A Taste of Britain grocery store, where people can find Marmite, baked beans, and all the classic commodities to soothe a craving for home, are just some of the indicators of the town’s thriving British population.

“When I tell people where I live, they respond: ‘You’re in the English village,’” said one French retiree from Eymet. 

According to Terrie Simpson, the co-founder of the Eymet-based real estate agency Agence Eleonor, many people believe there are more British residents than French in Eymet, even though Brits only make up around 15 percent of the population. 

“Everyone says that there are only English folk in Eymet,” said Simpson, who is originally from Manchester, England. 

Listening to people speak on the town’s streets, especially on market day during high tourist season, it’s understandable why people would get the impression that there are only British people living there. Yet, Simpson argues that this is because many of the people out during the day are retirees or vacationers, people who tend to spend their days wandering the city streets. That doesn’t mean there aren’t others. 

An era of “Entente Amicale”

The majority of Eymet residents agree that a happy French-British cohabitation is unfolding in the town, worthy of the historical Entente Cordiale, a series of agreements that France and Britain signed in 1904 to foster closer diplomatic ties and resolve old disputes. 

In July 2025, the governments of both countries upgraded the historical agreements to become the Entente Amicale, ushering in a new period of French-British friendship. 

The strong relationship between the two countries is often on full display in the town. Only sports can rekindle the embers of rivalry. Many residents suggest that tourists visit Eymet’s bars and pubs in February, when the Six Nations Championship, a rugby competition between France, England, Ireland, Italy, Scotland, and Wales, is in full swing. 

Lallemant argues that “there are no notable cases” of xenophobia or intercommunity conflict among residents. Sometimes, however, visitors can make strange remarks about the blend of cultures. Sara Ghazali, who recently opened a bookshop in Eymet called La Mauvaise Herbe, said tourists told her that Eymet is “invaded.” 

“No, we are not,” she laughed. 

Despite the relatively low level of friction, some locals expressed frustration that many British residents don’t speak French.

In response, Lallemant and her colleagues have grown accustomed to bilingual communication. They aim to ensure the town’s foreign residents “do not feel left out.”

Rising prices bolstered by wealthier cross-Channel newcomers are a potential point of contention. Yet, paradoxically, it’s also a consequence of the economic dynamism that such a rural town often lacks. Locals and British residents both frequently argue that the new community saved Eymet. 

In everyday life, the British contribution is undeniable. Brits are consumers, keeping businesses going all year, and investors too. Rue du Temple would be a much less vibrant street without Eymet Le Livre, Café Sara, or A Taste of Britain. Jane Patterson, the latter’s owner, said she believes the influx of foreigners has benefited the French.

Beyond the economic element, the British newcomers also contribute to demographic dynamism. An increasing number of young families with children flock to Eymet. Since countryside schools are closing in droves, “it’s good for such a small town,” Simpson, the owner of Agence Eleanor, pointed out. 

That’s in contrast to the earlier wave of migration, which mainly brought in members of older generations when it started a few decades ago.

A thriving community built on a privileged migration

Pinpointing the exact moment when Eymet began to develop a British character is challenging. The 1970s may mark its inception, when a few affluent individuals purchased holiday homes in these picturesque surroundings. From the outset, that set the tone for a migration rooted in privilege, a very different experience from that of others crossing the Channel. 

From there, the migration unfolded slowly and began to accelerate in the 1980s and 1990s, reaching a crescendo when the United Kingdom eventually left the European Union following the 2016 Brexit referendum. 

Just before Brexit, which became official on February 1st, 2020, following lengthy divorce negotiations between officials in London and Brussels, Simpson sold many homes to cross-Channel newcomers who wanted to settle before it became too administratively complex and costly.

Simpson initially feared that she might lose her British clientele because of Brexit. However, the British continued to flock to Eymet, revealing that their interest in the place transcended any administrative difficulties.

The stars align for Eymet

“When I arrived, it reminded me of Beauty and the Beast,” Simpson said. 

For many, Eymet’s idyllic landscapes alone are a reason to settle. The quality of life doesn’t hurt either. Sun and good wine are often enough of an incentive to buy a house and settle down. 

“We don’t have this in England,” Simpson laughed. 

Terry Boyce, previously a physics teacher at the University of Hong Kong, and his partner, Kinet Leug, have run a bookshop in Eymet for about five years. They arrived from Hong Kong in 2018, having escaped an urban environment that had become hell for them. 

“The French lifestyle is the most attractive thing,” Boyce said. 

The properties are, “of course,” also cheaper than their equivalent in the United Kingdom, Simpson admits. Many Brits can afford to buy property in Eymet without a mortgage. And those houses often cater to the bucolic tastes of British clientele: old stone, land, dovecotes, and proximity to a vibrant town. 

Some come to refurbish old ruins. Chris, who often visits the town’s market via motorcycle, is one of those hobbyists. When not in his native Yorkshire, he uses the 6-month visa that post-Brexit rules provide to British citizens to renovate an old farm he purchased, just a short drive away from Eymet. 

“Amazing architecture!” he gushed, showing pictures of the property he’s purchased. 

Typically, in such a rural location, it can be challenging or time-consuming to reach major cities and airports. Eymet doesn’t have this problem. The Bergerac airport is located approximately 25 kilometers (15 miles) away and offers low-cost flights to the United Kingdom. 

There are numerous flights between Bergerac and Britain, a response to the ongoing demand for travel between the United Kingdom and this region of southern France. In turn, the existence of these flights has also driven more British people to Eymet. Bordeaux, a city of nearly 300,000 inhabitants, is also just a 1-hour and 20-minute drive away. 

If living conditions and infrastructure encourage many to try life in Eymet, the community entices many to stay and settle down. 

Born in Liverpool, England, Sara Martinez has recently taken over a café on rue du Temple, which she now runs alongside her husband. It eventually became a meeting point for both French and cross-Channel clientele. 

“One Brit brought another,” Martinez conceded, referring to the phenomenon of chain migration that often brings groups of people of the same origins to a new location together. 

Little Britain under the spotlight

Slowly but surely, the British population of Eymet grew, transforming the town into a microcosm of Britain. Now, whenever there is a significant event related to the United Kingdom, from a sports event to an election, journalists flock to the town to get a reaction.

From her bookshop, looking directly onto rue du Temple, Ghazali recalls seeing TV crews rushing across the streets to catch interviews after the death of Queen Elizabeth II in September 2022.

“Every [television] channel turns up when there is a France-England game,” Lallemant explained. 

The fact that Eymet is primarily known as a British community can sometimes be frustrating to city authorities. Still, they try to take advantage of the camera crews to promote other aspects of the town. 

“We’d like to be known also for our architectural richness, our heritage, or our activities,” Lallemant said. 

Some British residents are growing tired of being interviewed by so many journalists. One admitted to being cautious around English reporters and wary that they’ll attempt to highlight and exaggerate incidents of intercultural tensions to feed back to Britain’s notorious tabloids. 

To the dismay of problem seekers, most residents of Eymet say they’re happy with their lives and the intercultural atmosphere in the town. Sandra, a French artist who grew up in the town, said the presence of foreigners has opened up Eyment. 

“On every terrace, there is a different gin and tonic recipe,” Ghazali jokes. “And that is nice!”

Paul Mazet is a French freelance journalist based in Berlin, where he reports on the local impact of international developments. He studied history, international relations, and social sciences in Toulouse, Glasgow, Paris, Dublin, and Berlin.

The post The French Countryside Town That Won’t Miss Teatime first appeared on Lazo Magazine.

Natia, a young film critic who recently moved to Germany, attended the protests in Berlin to stand up for freedom and justice back home.

Georgia’s European future is written into the country’s constitution. However, the Russian-aligned ruling Georgian Dream party has recently turned its back on the country’s European path. They’ve done so even though around 80 percent of the population backs EU membership.  

“We just want to defend ourselves,” Natia explains. 

Georgians and their local allies take part in a human chain for Georgia. Photo by Gia Gagoshidze.

An unwelcome shift away from Europe

On November 28, 2024, Georgian Prime Minister Irakli Kobakhidze announced his government was suspending the country’s membership application to join the European Union until at least 2028. Many Georgians, especially young people living in major cities, were horrified. 

Since then, Georgians have taken to the streets across the country. Many believe that the government has no legitimacy and is hanging onto power illegally.

Irregularities mired the elections that took place in October last year. The government also passed a controversial foreign agents’ law in the months leading up to the election. The bill mimics Russian legislation that Moscow has used to silence civil society organizations and independent activists critical of the government. Activists in Georgia say their government passed a similar law to crack down on dissent.

Rigged elections, repressive laws, and the government’s decision to shift the country away from Europe have been enough to mobilize hundreds of thousands of people in Georgia. The last few months have been colored by a near-constant arm-wrestling between Georgia’s pro-European population and its increasingly pro-Russian government. Tensions escalated after the government’s announcement on November 28. Those tensions have also played out in international cities like Berlin and Brussels, where a sizable Georgian diaspora lives. 

An “existential moment” for Georgians everywhere

Fearful for their country’s future, the Georgian diaspora kicked into action to make its voice heard in dozens of countries. Many Georgians living in the European Union are especially committed to their country’s European future. They know the benefits of living in the EU. They also know life would be much more challenging under pro-Russian, authoritarian leadership. 

Aware of the city’s importance for their country’s European future, Georgians in Brussels marched in front of Europe’s most important institutions. Lucas Ablotia, a Georgian journalist and LGBTQ activist exiled in Brussels, said he couldn’t watch the news without acting. 

“Everyone left, right, and center, even communists and capitalists, were together,” Ablotia tells Lazo Magazine. Ablotia noted that everyone felt a sense of unity because they faced an “existential moment” together. 

Many Georgians at home also felt hope when their compatriots protested around the world and brought their demands to Europe’s power centers.

Pointing “the way” to Europe

According to Gaga Gogoladze, a Berlin-based activist from Georgia, the first protests against Georgia’s October elections took place in Germany’s capital. Gogoladze and his friend Giorgi Kakabadze, a PhD researcher based in Berlin since 2021, are two of the co-founders of the pro-European Georgisches Zentrum im Ausland (GZA, the Georgian Centre Abroad), a collective of Europe-based Georgian civil activists. 

When thousands of pro-European Georgians decided to make a human chain in Tbilisi, activists in more than 40 countries followed suit. The GZA activists organized a human chain near the Russian embassy in Berlin.

GZA, which organized protests around the Brandenburg Tor, has become the backbone of pro-European Georgians in the German capital.

The organization’s acronym also means “the way” in Georgian. Kakabadze says it’s supposed to point the way to Europe.

The activists say GZA has served as an alternative embassy in Berlin. Through engaging with German media, politicians, and members of the public, GZA began discussions about Georgia that the official embassy wasn’t willing to have. Gogoladze and Kakabadze say that many people still see Georgia through a post-Soviet lens, with all its accompanying clichés.

“People never updated [their view of Georgia],” explains Gogoladze. 

Russian-led disinformation continues to describe Georgia as a country within the Kremlin’s orbit. That is why, for Kakabadze, one of GZA’s most essential endeavors is the fight against Russian propaganda. 

GZA began approaching German politicians, particularly representatives in the Bundestag. At first, it was sometimes difficult to generate interest in Georgia. Yet, in the wake of the pro-European protests, many of Germany’s four big pro-European political parties expressed renewed interest in the country.

Georgia is “not just food, drinks, and dances,” Kakabadze stresses. “It also has European values and people.”

A fight against apathy

Georgians abroad who try to bring attention to their country’s fight for its European future often face a recurring question: Who cares about a small country in the Caucasus? 

Facing this lack of interest and the persistent stereotypes about the post-Soviet space, many Georgians have lost interest in speaking out. Some have internalized the belief that no one cares about their country.

But Gogoladze and Kakabadze remain determined to do this delicate work. They engage with people directly and try to break through defeatism and apathy. 

“It also matters for Europe,” stress the two GZA co-founders. They are trying to warn people that Russian influence and meddling can impact countries across the continent. 

“It already happened, much faster than we thought,” says Gogoladze, pointing to recent cases of Russian interference in countries like Moldova and Romania. 

Many in the Georgia diaspora believe their commitment to a European and democratic future can revive hope in the European Union. That’s especially important when democracy feels fragile everywhere.

“We are almost the only hope in the world to democratize and renew things,” concludes Ablotia, the Brussels-based activist. “Because we see almost everywhere that democracy deteriorates.”

Paul Mazet is a French freelance journalist based in Berlin, where he reports on the local impacts of international developments. He studied history, international relations, and social sciences in Toulouse, Glasgow, Paris, Dublin, and Berlin.

The post In Berlin and Brussels, Georgians Fight for Their European Future first appeared on Lazo Magazine.

In the German capital, where an international art scene is thriving, Ukrainians are resisting Russia’s attempt to wipe their culture off the map by establishing safe spaces for Ukrainian cultural expression.

Eva Yakubovska, an activist with the Ukrainian advocacy organization Vitsche, and Alina Danylova, who helps run the Hotel Continental – Art Space in Exile, are just two of the Ukrainians working to preserve their culture in Berlin. They demonstrate how the existential threat their country faces has fueled Ukrainian cultural expression in the art-centric city.

Berlin as a shelter for Ukrainian culture

Hotel Continental was a place in Mariupol where young artists could thrive, described Danylova, who previously worked in the center for the Kyiv-based multidisciplinary festival GogolFest. Yet, this creative flourishing ended when Russian bombs destroyed the building in April 2022. 

Russia has continued to target Ukrainian cultural institutions since it began its unprovoked invasion on February 24, 2022. But along with the attacks came the urge to protect and defend Ukrainian heritage. 

When the full-scale invasion of Ukraine began, German theater director Christine Dissmann wanted to “support in a small cultural way” a country with which she had professional and personal ties. 

Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, the demolished art center reappeared in Berlin’s Alt-Treptow district when Dissmann launched the art space in exile. She named it Hotel Continental in honor of the lost building in Mariupol. 

Beginning from scratch in June 2022, diligent Ukrainian Berliners shaped the project alongside Dissmann. 

The war is “very much also against Ukrainian culture, and we need a place to preserve it,” Dissmann explained. 

While Dissmann knows she can’t save every piece of Ukrainian art the Russians have destroyed. Nevertheless, preservation lies at the heart of the endeavor. Numerous Ukrainians in Berlin and their supporters share this ambition. Danylova got involved because she and Dissmann knew each other before the war. She trusted that together, they could rebuild her former workplace’s legacy. 

“Who – If Not Us?” asked an exhibit at the Hotel Continental several months ago. 

That question is “on the table of every Ukrainian artist,” Danylova said. She believes Ukrainian artists must work to keep the world’s attention on the war. That way they resist Russia’s attempt to destroy Ukrainian culture. 

Otherwise, she said, “we can be just erased from the map.”  

Amplifying Ukrainian culture abroad

The advocacy group Vitsche is another Berlin institution that sprang up amid the war to preserve Ukrainian culture in exile. The organization targets decision-makers with campaigns and produces innovative forms of cultural diplomacy, such as concerts and music festivals. 

Vitsche emphasizes the importance of Ukrainian arts production “being seen abroad,” explained cultural manager Yakubovska. Ukrainians are realizing this work of amplification as Russia tries to overshadow their national identity. 

Berlin, home to a cosmopolitan audience ready to embrace cultural discoveries, was the perfect place to promote the work of Ukrainian artists. Bars like Space Meduza offer a physical space in Berlin to showcase Ukrainian-made art. 

In the Western Ukrainian city of Lviv in 2022, twenty-five street artists from Ukraine’s twenty-five regions decorated a shopping mall with their vision for Ukraine’s victory. The United by Victories exhibition traveled around the country. Then, when the curators decided to bring copies of the mural to an international audience, Berlin’s Space Meduza welcomed it.

Transcending war and showcasing diversity

War today is an omnipresent topic. Yet Ukrainian artists go far beyond representations of pain in their work. 

“It’s not always just about the war. It’s sometimes just showcasing good Ukrainian work,” said Dissmann.

Some Ukrainian Berliners have also used these new cultural projects to showcase Ukraine’s diversity. Yakubovska, for example, wants to spotlight how Roma, Crimean Tatar, and other ethnic and racial minorities are also a part of Ukrainian culture. 

When they recently performed a genre-blending hip-hop production in Berlin’s Plötzensee for the sixth Vitsche-organized Ukrainian Sound Garden, the three Fo Sho sisters faced one question over and over again: “Are you really Ukrainians?”

The sisters are Black Kharkivians with Ethiopian and Jewish roots. They understand their role in challenging preconceived ideas about Ukrainian identity and, as they put it, showing “that Ukraine is diverse.” 

Blending art and activism

Berlin is a fertile ground for artistic expression where many of today’s war refugees converge. 

The city and its world-renowned techno scene also witnessed the emergence of Bass Resistance, an artist collective on a mission. They aim to share the “energy of the present-day Ukrainian rave.” But the collective also never misses a chance to raise funds for humanitarian causes with its rousing beats, blending artistic expression with fundraising. 

The recent “Who—If Not Us?” event at Hotel Continental also exhibited homemade pieces by community associations that support Ukraine. 

Atypical exhibitors from the humanitarian organization Berlin to Borders or the Monday Kitchen Ukrainian cooking community could simultaneously showcase their art and activism. 

For example, a model polling station at the exhibit’s window showcases a mock referendum to replace Berlin’s Russisches Haus der Wissenschaft und Kultur (Russian House of Science and Culture) with a Ukrainian cultural palace. The Vitsche-designed piece was originally a tongue-in-cheek response to Russia’s illegal annexation of Ukrainian territories with so-called referenda. But it quickly evolved into a social movement with concrete demands. 

Facing pressures, a combative self-assertion

Since the outbreak of Russia’s war, the Moscow-monitored Russian House has been a center of propaganda supporting Russia’s justifications for war and attempting to cast doubt on Ukrainian identity. 

Determined to fight back against Russia’s imperialist conceptions of Ukraine, activists in Berlin have started speaking out against this hub of Russian imperialism. Activists from Vitsche, together with Georgian, Moldovan, Chechen, and Syrians, are calling for the Russian House to be converted into a Decolonial House. The idea is to provide space for countries “colonized by contemporary Russia,” explains Yakubovska.

She envisions the building’s transformation as an example of transitional justice that would benefit countries that Russia has previously colonized. The group is optimistic that they can sway public opinion through media-savvy initiatives, sticker campaigns, and support from the lawyers involved in the case. 

“I think it’s realistic because I believe in the power of people,” Yakubovska said. 

Throughout Berlin, the Vitsche activists and other Ukrainians vocally condemn instances when their voices are silenced or appropriated. 

Since February 24, 2022, more people understand that Ukraine has an independent culture. Nevertheless, Yakubovska argues that some Berlin cultural institutions prioritize Russian voices over Ukrainians in their discussions about the war. Ukrainian culture is sometimes still marginalized compared to that of its larger neighbor. 

“You can see how Ukrainian art is perceived as some school drama scene for the backstages,” Yakubovska said. 

Berlin’s Ukrainian community plans to continue working to keep Ukraine’s cultural frontlines open. Once a door to the Soviet empire, Berlin now visibly showcases Ukrainian cultural identity on its streets. Betty from the music group Fo Sho sees herself and other artists like her as part of a “progressive young generation” of Ukrainians. In this city, that generation is building its homeland’s tomorrow. 

About the author

Paul Mazet is a French freelance journalist based in Berlin, where he reports on the local impacts of international developments. He studied history, international relations, and social sciences in Toulouse, Glasgow, Paris, Dublin, and Berlin.

The post Ukrainians in Berlin Are Defending Their Culture in Exile first appeared on Lazo Magazine.