Étranger Things: “It’s raining… what, exactly?” — Cats, dogs, ropes, halberds, and a Marseillais auntie’s opinion

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If you say “It’s raining cats and dogs” in Aix, people will smile politely and wonder if you’ve been head-butted by a calisson. In French, the go-to pour-down is il pleut des cordes — literally “it’s raining ropes” (picture thick strands of water from sky to street). It’s common, natural, and very Paris-compatible. You’ll also hear il tombe des cordes, same idea. (The Local France)

When the sky really loses its chill, the French sharpen their poetry: il tombe des hallebardes (“it’s raining halberds”)—dramatic, slightly old-school, perfect when your sneakers have become aquariums. (French Word of the Day)

And yes, there’s the colorful, barn-adjacent one: il pleut comme vache qui pisse. It’s vivid, it’s rural-register, and your Breton host grandma may chuckle—but keep it for friends, not the préfet. (All About French)

Does it differ by region?

  • Provence / Aix–Marseille: Alongside the standard French cords/halberds, locals sometimes nod to Occitan/Provençal: you may see or hear forms like plòu a flac (“it’s raining in sheets/streams”), from plòure = to rain. Fun for linguaphiles and guaranteed to make your boulangère call you “courageux·se.” (jfbrun.eu)

  • Paris (and most of France): Il pleut des cordes rules the sidewalks. Il pleut à verse / à torrents are safe, neutral alternates when you want to sound sensible (and dry). (FRENCH BY EMILIE)

  • Nord / Belgique influence: Meet la drache. Il drache = “it’s bucketing down.” Very northy, very useful if Lille steals your sunshine. (Wiktionary)

  • Brittany (Breizh): In French, same cords/verse. In Breton, the simple workhorse is Glav a ra (“it’s raining”), or ramp it up with glav bras for “big rain.” (Breton weather doesn’t mess around.) (sillage.brest.fr)

And if you’re reading this under the Ombrière on the Vieux-Port while the pavement becomes fondue, yes—Marseille can deliver a good deluge. (Proof splashes abound.)

Mini-guide (curated & cheeky)

Why not “cats & dogs” in French?

Because idioms travel badly with umbrellas. French picked ropes and spear-rain; English kept the pets. If you’re curious about the English phrase’s murky origins (Swift gets a cameo), here’s a quick dive. (The Library of Congress)

Handy lines by level (copy-paste to your notes)

  • A1: Il pleut beaucoup. / Il pleut fort. (It’s raining a lot / hard.) (FRENCH BY EMILIE)

  • A2: Il pleut à verse / à torrents. (It’s pouring.) (FRENCH BY EMILIE)

  • B1: On n’y voit rien—il pleut des cordes depuis ce matin. (We can’t see a thing—it’s been bucketing since morning.) (Lawless French)

  • B2: Entre le vent et la flotte, il tombe des hallebardes; on remet ça à demain ? (With the wind and downpour, it’s pelting—rain check?) (French Word of the Day)

  • C1+ (style points / local color): En vrai, plòu a flac aujourd’hui sur Aix. (Dropping an Occitanism with a grin.) (jfbrun.eu)

Sources & rabbit holes

  • “Il pleut des cordes”—usage & audio: Lawless French. (Lawless French)

  • Pile of weather idioms (incl. halberds): Renestance blog. (Renestance)

  • Vivid but rustic register: vache qui pisse. (All About French)

  • Drache in the North/Belgium: Wiktionary + teaching pages. (Wiktionary)

  • À verse / à torrents explainer: Français avec Émilie. (FRENCH BY EMILIE)

  • Breton basics (Glav a ra): Ville de Brest / Sillage. (sillage.brest.fr)

  • Occitan/Provençal a flac (à verse): J.-F. Brun’s Occitan lexicon. (jfbrun.eu)

Your turn 👇

What do you say when the Cours Mirabeau becomes a river? Drop your best rainy-day line in the comments—bonus if it’s regional (Aix/Marseille slang? Breton? Occitan?), super-bonus if you heard it from a neighbor or a bus driver.

Learners: try one sentence at your level above, and level it up with a regional twist. We’ll upvote the bravest (vache qui pisse-timid people included).