"Vive La France!" a France Travel Page by sunshinejo

How do I even begin to describe what France means to me? To say that I love France wouldn't be enough, it's more than that, it goes deeper. It's almost as if it's a part of me, like England is. Although in some ways I would say that I am fonder of France than I am England, probably because England is the norm to me whereas France is somewhere different and exciting and special. I've been here on more occasions than I care to remember, I've lived here, I speak the language and understand the lifestyle that the French people live. And yet I still hold a very romantic view of the country and it's people.

When I think of France a thousand different images spring to mind... the bread - how I love the bread! - freshly baked croissants for breakfast and warm baguettes, crispy on the outside and deliciously light and airy inside. I think of pavement cafes, cobbled streets, trees that line all the roads. I think of crops of sunflowers, bowls of fresh fruits and vegetables... long lunches that last all afternoon. I think of the Pyranees, Bordeaux, Brittany... of childhood holidays staying on campsites, playing with other children beneath the pine trees and having sneaky sips of red wine with dinner. I remember my first words in french - "deux bieres et deux cocas s'il-vous plait.". I think of the school I used to go to, the old fashioned desks we had with the lid that lifted up, and the smell of the polish they used on them.

You see, when I was nine years old I took part in a six month exchange to France. I was paired up with a french family who live in a town called Niort, which is in the west of France, about half way between Nantes and Bordeaux. They had three children, a girl my age called Anne, a son who was a couple of years older than us called Nico, and a baby daughter called Charlotte. I lived with them in Niort for six months as a member of their family, I went to school there, had tennis lessons and joined Anne at her "Ecole de Cirque" (Circus School) on Saturday afternoons. By the time the six months was up I spoke french so fluently that I couldn't actually remember how to speak english. I understood it when my parents spoke to me, but no longer had the vocabulary to form sentences of my own. The vocabulary returned after just a couple of days, however it took a lot longer to recover my accent, and for about three weeks after my return I was speaking english with a broad french accent!

More recently France has taken on a new meaning... I spent last winter living in the french Alps, in a ski resort called Alpe d'Huez. Alpe d'Huez is an unusual place, there are so many British tourists there it's not really France, but not England either, more like a combination of the two. I work for an english owned company, with other english people catering for english customers and yet I deal with french suppliers, eat french food in french restaurants and buy french products in the supermarket.. My friends there are all english and when we go out together we dance to songs by english artists, however we drink "demis" instead of pints or "vodka pomme" instead of vodka & coke. When I was there I missed the things I take for granted in England, certain brands I buy etc... but when I'm home there's so much I miss about France. I love wandering around the supermarket there and stumbling upon something that I used to enjoy when I lived there as a child - a certain cereal, make of biscuit or brand of sweets that can't be found in England for example. And I miss that in France everything is familiar, and yet different and exciting at the same time.