A little piece of my heart
I love France. I always have.
In high school, I took French as my foreign language. My mother, a French major in college, had established for me from an early age an appreciation for France; my studies only increased my passion for the culture, language, and people. In class, I would often dream about the adventures I would make for myself in Lyon, Paris, and Provence but it seemed too far away to imagine.
My dream finally came true this weekend when I went to Nice (on the Côte d'Azur) and any expectations I might have had about France were far exceeded. I walked around in a continual state of joy, with a huge, goofy grin on my face, and my heart a pitter-pattering. Everything was perfect: the food, the weather, the people.
The day that we left, I fell asleep on the beach, with the sun on my face, and the voices of Frenchies around me. Truly, music to my ears.
In high school, I took French as my foreign language. My mother, a French major in college, had established for me from an early age an appreciation for France; my studies only increased my passion for the culture, language, and people. In class, I would often dream about the adventures I would make for myself in Lyon, Paris, and Provence but it seemed too far away to imagine.
My dream finally came true this weekend when I went to Nice (on the Côte d'Azur) and any expectations I might have had about France were far exceeded. I walked around in a continual state of joy, with a huge, goofy grin on my face, and my heart a pitter-pattering. Everything was perfect: the food, the weather, the people.
The day that we left, I fell asleep on the beach, with the sun on my face, and the voices of Frenchies around me. Truly, music to my ears.
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