A Magical Year to Remember
It is said that France and the U.S. have always had a special relationship, dating back to our revolutionary days. I feel it every year on July 14.
Today, ten days after all the hoopla surrounding our 250th anniversary of the founding of the United States of America, France is celebrating their own national holiday, le Quatorze Juillet (July 14), la Fête Nationale.
History tells us that the success of our American Revolution inspired the French to rebel against their own squirrelly King, beginning with the storming of the Bastille, a formidable prison and a hated symbol of royal cruelty.
This date always takes me back to my junior year of college, that magical time when I was immersed in everything French.
Lucky thirteen
There were thirteen of us who sailed across the Atlantic in late summer, twelve girls and one boy, aboard the USS United States, the fastest ocean liner ever built. 
The weather was so awful, it was impossible to go out on deck for the 4-day sail. Cabin fever made us crazy, but bonded us together as friends. At last, we docked in Le Havre and spent the night in Rouen, where we were welcomed by our Dijon professor and our first taste of French champagne.
Castles & cathedrals
At the port the next morning, we boarded a bus that took us on a week’s meander to Caen (William the Conqueror’s castle!), and Bayeux (the tapestries!), Fougeres (another castle!) then south (Mont San Michel!)
and east to the Loire valley (more chateaux and cathedrals). By the end of the week we were so completely overwhelmed by all the Romanesque and Gothic architecture, we let off steam by posing for a group photo in which we all contorted our bodies and faces to resemble the dozens and dozens of gargoyles we’d encountered on the way.
My personal chateau
Our next-to-last destination was Dijon, where we spent some weeks practicing our French-speaking skills and learning more about the history and the culture of the Burgundy region. We were separated into various local hosting homes. I was placed in an airy room at a spacious 18th century chateau outside of town owned by a fur merchant and his beautiful big family. Lovely people.
Paris!
Once we were ready to face life alone in the big city, we were moved to Paris where we separated again. Some moved into a dorm, but I was given my own room in the home of another large family, not far from the Seine on the Left Bank. Life settled into a regular pattern of private classes for the 13 of us, plus huge public lectures at the Sorbonne, and regular tickets to all the museums, the Comedie-Francaise, and the Paris Opera.
Night club gig
One of the older children of my Paris hosts operated a popular student boîte. He invited Patrick (the boy in our group) and me to perform there. A thrill, for sure. Pat and I have been friends ever since.
I couldn’t help but fall in love with France. By the time my year was over, I was fluent in the language. I even dreamed in French, a habit that sadly dwindled to dust as time went by.
Memories that linger
At my first dinner in the home of my Paris family, the father had welcomed me by raising his glass in a toast to America in gratitude for what our country had done for France in World War II. I recalled what Lafayette had done for ours. Our kinship truly does go way back.
And every year, I feel gratitude for having experienced a most magical time of my life.
Happy Bastille Day! Vive La France! Vive L’Amerique!
I hope you’ve had a magical time to remember. Tell us about it in the comments below!
Gay Yellen’s award-winning writing career began in magazine journalism. She later served as the contributing editor for the international thriller, Five Minutes to Midnight (Delacorte), which debuted as a New York Times “Notable.” Her Samantha Newman Mystery Series is packed with suspense and laced with touches of romance, heart, and humor. Available on Amazon or to order through your favorite bookseller.
Gay, what an adventure of a lifetime. Dreaming in French!!! Amazing and what do you mean you performed? You sang? Did you maintain a relationship with your host families?
I had a noisy fourth, fireworks went off well into the a.m.:)
Yes, I sang. Actually, Patrick and I were in the chorus in college and in some musicals together. He’s a great guy and a wonderful musician. We are still close friends. In the student nightclub in Paris, our act was mostly popular American songs. I was in touch with my Dijon family for years. Their oldest son came to visit me when I lived in L.A. He was still a teenager then, so I took him to Disneyland. My Mom also corresponded with his. Alas, through the years, I’ve lost touch with both families, but I think of them often.
Gay, I envy you! I spent a week in Paris the summer before my junior year of college. Never got to see more of the country until a Mediterranean cruise took me to Provence and Nice in 2013. I’d love to go back.
Lois, let’s do it!
Hold it. If there’s a girls’ trip involved, pencil me in!
What a wonderful year for you. And, we see you were already entertaining then, too.
Debra, you’ve found a thread I hadn’t noticed, but you’re right. Thanks!
Lovely memories and an enjoyable post!
Today is my birthday and if I lived in France, it would be a national holiday 🙂 Those French people know what days to celebrate!
Growing up in Canada (our official languages are English and French), French was part of our schooling from an early age. But sadly, not using it (always living in a English-speaking area), I have lost all but the most basic words (I can order a sandwich or ask where the bathroom is, say “Je M’apelle Judy” (pronounced zh-oo-dee) but that’s about it.
Bon Anniversaire, Judy!
Happy birthday, Judy!!!
What an incredible experience! And wonderful memories that linger still. And thank you for the reminder of our linked histories. A great post1
Thanks so much, Mary Lee.
I enjoyed reading about your time in France. I had a similar experience in the summer of 1978 when I went to school in Salamanca, Spain. I cherish those memories. I love this travel quote by Anthony Bourdain: “Travel isn’t always pretty. It isn’t always comfortable. Sometimes it hurts, it even breaks your heart. But that’s okay. The journey changes you; it should change you.”
Salamanca sounds so exotic! How wonderful that you had that time there. Bourdain’s quote is right on. Heartbreak and pain are also part of my magical year, but not fit material for this post.