My first journey to France was dreadful. Three students on a crowded train desperate for sleep, we arrived in Paris with nowhere to sleep. Luckily the tourist office was open and found us a downmarket hotel where we crashed out for the night.
The next morning, however, we got on to the metro and worked out a route to the Champs Elysee. I'll never forget the experience of emerging onto the street from the subway, turning round and seeing the Champs Elysee and the Arc de Triomphe all at once. It was my first time abroad and I was delighted by the feeling of joie de vivre which Paris seemed to exude in its streets and cafes even on an ordinary weekday. The Arc de Triomphe alone, never mind the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame, wipes out London as a place to visit, any day. London, Birmingham, Milton Keynes; they're all the same.
I next went to France with my brother Peter, still as students, on a camping holiday. For some reason we thought Nantes would be a nice place to visit. Night life was non-existant. We couldn't afford to club, would have been scared to do so anyway, so the best night we had was with a group of Irish guys we met in the same campsite, when we got well imbibed in true celtic style.
We had decided to travel to Paris the next day. We woke up with dreadful hangovers and endured an unhappy train journey arriving in Paris with nowhere to stay. After some searching we found a municipal campsite which was relative cheap, although basic, but was an hour's journey from the city centre. By this time our money was running out and we were surviving on bread, cheese , and French cider (which is beautiful). As Peter really wasn't interested in sightseeing, a fact I was not availed of before we went to France, we ended up cutting our holiday short.
The last time I went to France was to Pau Adour, near the Spanish border. I had booked into an Esperanto tourist week run by the local Esperantists. I had just spent a wonderful week with Esperantists in Vigo, had left them nearly in tears at having to part, only to arrive in Pau to find that the French Esperantists had cleared off on holiday because of lack of interest in their event. I had already spent two days getting to Pau by train, so to turn round and go back would have wasted in total 4 days of my holiday simply on a round trip. I decided to stay and make the most of it on my own.
Pau is a very picturesque little town, with a castle and a promenade which has the French Pyranees as a backdrop. The young women, although not beautiful, dress and carry themselves with a unique chiqueness that can only be French.
I was neverthless glad to travel back to Spaino on my way home, where they are friendlier.
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