After a Monday-through-Friday stint camping in Chamonix and a Friday-through-Monday stint in Rennes, I took off on a six hour train ride that would traverse France from end to end. (Rennes is in the northwest, and Montpellier finds itself in the southeast.) However, the welcome I got would’ve been sufficient for someone who’d just arrived home from the moon.
In 11th grade, my exchange was with Pablo, and my best friend’s exchange was with another French student, Yan. I was fortunate enough to connect with both of these awesome guys in a way that has lasted. All my friendships are invaluable, but there’s something special about the ones that transcend the obstacles of time, the Atlantic, and language.
Yan, his parents, and his little brother were the most gracious hosts. As coincidence would have it, I was not the only guest – an old high school acquaintance of mine, Dylan, was also staying with the Laurents, thanks to another exchange connection. So it was the three of us rolling around southern France all week – we were making moves in such non-stop fashion that it seems like Yan’s car, rather than his beautiful 13th century house, was our real home base.
Yan works from 7 to 9 every morning and 6 to 8 every evening setting up and tearing down beach chairs and umbrellas. Thus, our schedule was built around starting and ending each and every day communing with warm air, fresh breezes, and the cool Mediterranean. Not bad.
Of course, the routine was interrupted by plenty of more unique and equally memorable episodes. We grilled and camped out with Yan’s bros, spent an afternoon swimming in the cleanest, coolest river, and passed late nights with Yan’s father around what had been the dinner table hours earlier. What an unforgettable way to spend my last week in France.
I cross into Spain in less than a half hour.
May Be an Adventure 