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.