FanStory.com - No dramas! Just for once!by Wendy G

The seven nervous students had met their host families and gone home with them.

The first of six nights of managing to communicate without my support . . . .

The following morning . . . seven excited teenagers, all happy to see their teacher again! How wonderful!

They were pleased with their ability to communicate with their host families – most of the students had only been learning French for less than two years, so it was satisfying and rewarding, both for them and for me.

We were all looking forward to the next few days. “Immersion experience” lessons in the mornings with students from dozens of other countries had been organised at the Language School.

Young people make friends quickly, and very soon addresses, phone numbers and emails were added to their journals! It was very cool to have international friends.

One afternoon activity was organised by the Language School, and we were all (students and staff) bussed to see the Roman aqueduct, the Pont du Gard, near Uzès, not far from Nîmes and Avignon. It was most impressive! More than a million visitors every year!

We took a French picnic lunch of baguettes, ham, cheeses and fruit, and then the students were free to explore – but my rules still applied, and I was still in "counting to seven" mode. No-one on their own.

Sophie was my shy red-haired girl. It was here, near the end of the trip, when I first had to say “No” to a request concerning Sophie. A student from another country had been “captivated” by her.

“Just so enchanting!” he told me.

Would Mademoiselle Sophie please be able to spend the afternoon with him?

No, Mademoiselle Sophie would not – but he was welcome to join MY group. Oh no, thank you - that did not appear to be what he had in mind. Disappointed, he wandered off, perhaps to try elsewhere. Sweet Sophie thanked me.

“I didn’t know what to do. He’s been bothering me a bit in classes too,” she admitted.

I couldn’t have taken seven students on a three-week trip and not had occasion to mention each one, could I? Without that tiny experience, I would have had no story about Sophie. She was happy the whole time, and never any trouble.

Mandy and Cherie always included her, as did Evie and Jemma. Sometimes she joined just Cherie when Mandy was with Blake, and she was happy also to just walk with me. Thank goodness some-one was! Of course, if I’d had seven Sophies, there would have been no stories!

We all wanted to see Roman Amphitheatres, trying to cast our imaginations back through the centuries – so another afternoon I took them all to Nîmes whose amphitheatre, built during the time of Augustus, has been restored.

Large enough to seat 24, 000 people, this huge arena is one of the finest in the world, and it is now used for summer concerts. It displayed Roman engineering at its most sophisticated, and is therefore on the UNESCO heritage listing. With its interactive audio guide and detailed exhibits, the students found history coming alive.

The trains to all these neighbouring towns were excellent – fast, frequent and smooth. We could maximise our time, cramming in as much as we could during the daylight and twilight hours.

My special seven loved Arles and could see why Van Gogh had chosen to live in that sunny corner of southern France. They knew of his famous "Sunflowers" from art lessons when they were younger, but enjoyed learning more about his life and paintings.

Everyone has heard the children’s song Sur le Pont d’Avignon. What was the story behind this half-bridge, extending across the water, but incomplete? They had to know – and had to see it.

Yes, we spent an afternoon and evening in Avignon. The Popes’ Palace, a medieval Gothic structure, was another must-see, also a UNESCO heritage site, and one of the ten most visited monuments in France! There were new discoveries about French history at every turn.

Every town and city we visited was special, each steeped with unique and amazing history, so each afternoon was a source of pleasure and wonder to these seven student sponges! Walking kilometres, we explored everything we could.

Yes, they learned French, and French culture, but they also absorbed history, geography, art, as well as many mathematical skills with money and timetabling. They grew in their understanding of other countries and their cultures from their new friends at the Language School. Travel is definitely the best teacher.

On a practical note, I had to get them safely home each evening, and fortunately all the host families lived within walking distance of Montpellier’s tram routes. Each evening we’d catch a tram, get off and walk the first three to their door, walk back and catch the next tram, dropping off the next pair at their door, and then the last pair.

By the time I’d walked the last students to their home, it was dark – and I had to walk alone back across the town to my hotel. I regularly and unobtrusively checked my map - and walked purposefully.

Yes, old men sitting and drinking in doorways called out greetings to me. They realised I was not a “lady of the night”, and were always pleasant, never giving me any sense of danger. Yet, I was always thankful to arrive back safely and fall into bed, exhausted.

The day arrived all too soon for our return to Paris, back to our first hotel. How much we had experienced!

The driver arrived the following morning to drive us to the airport. Oh no! It was the same one who had brought us from the airport, at the start of our trip – when Evie had vomited in his van!

What! Eight of us! He’d thought there were only seven, and he’d promised to take his cousin to the airport as well. He insisted. So – we all had to squeeze in, with insufficient seatbelts for us all. No, he didn’t want Evie to ride in the front! I insisted. I jumped in with her.

His driving on the way out to the airport was just as hair-raising as on the first day. He was just as grumpy, still used his mobile phone, still waved his arms in the air, not holding onto the steering wheel. Still swore just as much. However the students took it in their stride. They were experienced travellers now, accustomed to French driving and traffic.

So began our long journey home! Twenty-four hours is a tiring trip, then customs, then there would be another long car ride from the airport back to our town . . . .

My time as a “mother” to seven teenagers, as well as their teacher, was almost over.

We broke our journey in Singapore. I checked my phone. Yes! My daughter’s baby had arrived – I had just become a grandmother!

They all cheered!