The only way to know a place is to know its people.

for the more proper “bonjour"when entering a shop or running into a neighbor on the elevator.

What I didnt know were the words other, more sophisticated rules.

Traditional half-timbered houses in the old town of Rennes, France

Credit:Leonid Andronov/Getty Images

Walking into a doctors office waiting room:Bonjour, everyone.

Coming into a department store: Nobonjour.

Walking onto the metro platform: Nobonjour.

Weekly outdoor market, Marché des Lices in Rennes, France

Theresa Conroy/Travel + Leisure

Getting onto the bus:Bonjour.

Encountering a stranger on the sidewalk: Nobonjour.

Encountering a stranger in the courtyard in front of your building:Bonjour.

Cathédral Saint-Pierre in Rennes, France

Theresa Conroy/Travel + Leisure

Passing an older woman on the street:Bonjour, madame.

Navigating that learning curve was deep enough to impact my personality.

In the U.S., I had been an astute newspaper reporter who was rarely flustered or timid.

Shade cover over the shopping district in Rennes, France

Theresa Conroy/Travel + Leisure

Maybe French radiators do work that way.

(Spoiler alert: The heating system was, indeed, broken.)

Each time we visited, the desire to stay grew.

Place de la République in Rennes, France

Theresa Conroy/Travel + Leisure

It wasnt until the first year had passed that I began bumping up against unexpected, nuanced challenges.

(Hint: Dont touch any of the produce without permission.)

More quandaries arose over time: How do you put the stick shift into reverse?

Exactly how far is 800 meters?

What does the traffic sign that looks like a space rocket mean?

What size shoe do I wear here?

Why cant I find ready-made chicken broth?

And why didnt anyone tell me I had to put salt in the dishwasher?

One by one, I knocked those quandaries off my List of Things That Confuse Me in France.

The only way to know a place is to know its people.