Libertine

I’ve been coming to France my whole life. Vivid early memories from trips with my family each year to Normandy. The friends made by swimming pools. Camping in house-sized tents. Paddling in the sea and eating sandy cheese on fresh baguettes. I remember being bitten by an Alsatian that went for my brother, and can almost feel the sharp pain and fear. I recall climbing the streets and spires of Mont Saint-Michel like I could touch the polished brown stone. >> >>Then came the school trips. Learning to ski in the Alps. A language exchange to Bordeaux one summer, washing dishes in the art museum, living with Olivier and his family. I nearly drowned in the sea off Brittany, tossed through the breakers and dragged out by a rip tide. Summers with schoolmates at a crumbling chateaux outside Saint-Émilion, a broken heart, and fires and fireflies on a little island in the river.

France