SUMMER
A Summer Day in France
Here is how a typical day on a French vacation goes.
All my childhood holidays look the same in my mind. I have sort of merged all the memories into one blurry sunny day. This is what I recall from 10 years of family holidays.
Every year, we would leave our house in the middle of the night to beat traffic on the road and drive for 7 or 8 hours before reaching our destination. I played with my elder sister on the back seat of the car until she’d get bored of me and picked up a book to read.
My family usually rented a chalet in a holiday resort. The sort of resort with lots of other families and children, a swimming pool or two, activities every day and night to dance, draw, play, and bond with your best friends for the next two weeks.
We would get settled in the chalet upon arrival, and explore the holiday resort, trying to create a mental map for the shortest path to the pool and the restaurant.
The next two weeks are a blur of the following activities.
Exploring the Local Market
I remember vividly some of them all those years later. French markets, especially in the South, are full of colours, they have the most wonderful smells and tastes.
We went shopping several times during our trip, to buy food for our holidays, olives, local cheeses, fresh fruits, and vegetables.
Towards the end of the trip, we would always come back to the market to buy souvenirs for our family. A kind gesture that is losing its grip on our habits.
I personally don’t buy souvenirs for my family anymore.
When I first started travelling on my own, I would bring gifts for my family but it became quickly expensive, cumbersome, and I was sometimes only buying something for the sake of it. So I have quit the habit, and only buy a present when I know it’ll mean something to the person.
Back to my childhood memories, the typical gifts were a bottle of wine for my uncle, a flowerpot for my grandmother, as well as handmade mugs and bowls, or a wooden fruit basket, and of course food.
Construction Works at the Beach
Forget swimming in the Atlantic Ocean or the Mediterranean Sea, we had more important things to do, the beach was a serious affair for my sister and me.
We would spend the entire day building sandcastles, but also, mainly, digging a big hole until we could find water at the bottom.
We kind of figured why share the water with everyone else when we can have our own little puddle?
It’s not all we did, of course, we swam in the water as well but I remember being scared of fish and my eyes burning because of the salty water.
From a young age, I decided the swimming pool and the beach had two different purposes, one was for swimming, and the other one to exercise my architectural talents.
Figure Swimming
In the course of two weeks, I probably swallowed two litres of pool water every year.
A wide range of activities was available, from artistic diving to fierce competition of who could stay underwater the longest.
We stayed for hours at a time at the pool, having some ice cream breaks here and there to fuel our performances.
I find it amusing how all those activities weren't so special and yet my brain chose them to keep forever.
I could go to a local market every week, but the ones I went to on holiday had something more, maybe a sense of adventure? Or maybe it was about my mom being more willing to buy me something I desired?
I don’t know how much of this is typically French and how much is universal. I wonder what’s someone else’s childhood holidays would look like.
I believe that I cherish those moments, not because they had anything extraordinary, but rather because I shared them with my family, proof that where you are doesn't matter nearly as much as with whom.
