Surprise - La France

I stepped out from the taxi cab, and planted a foot for the first time in La Cote Saint Andre, in the dark, cool night. La Cote Saint Andre; the birthplace of the French Romantic composer, Hector Berlioz. Napolean Bonaparte, Isabella, Louis Philippe, Eleanor of Aquitaine, Charles Dugal. The list goes on and on. For as much as I was astonished by how much history and how many stories have been born in this amazing country; none like any other I’ve been in before, I never anticipated the overwhelming feeling I would have to visit such a land for the first time.

It was a clear night, and too dark for me to see the French Alps, stretching and towering far down the horizon. The street, Chemin du Pre de la Chere, was very well lit, too. There was a peaceful, quaint and quiet atmosphere. The very helpful and friendly taxi driver (whose name to this day I dare not try to spell or pronounce) and I scratched our heads, noticing there did not appear to be any clear addresses on the buildings. The forty-minute ride from the Lyon Saint Exupery Airport consisted of a great exchange of elementary French, and I was the only person in France who knew what I was there for.

My girlfriend, Leith, was living on Chemin du Pre de la Chere. Trying my best to communicate with the very helpful taxi driver by using a “French Phrases” mini book, I was successful in making it clear that I didn’t speak a lick of French, and I quickly learned that he didn’t speak a lick of English. “320 Chemin du Pre de la Chere”, I kept repeating to him.

Six kind people and a golden-retriever of the town noticed I could not find what I was searching for.

One by one, the people were demonstrating how helpful they were by insisting to help me find my way.

With the help of the townspeople, and the golden retriever, I was led to a building, with a minute sign attached, just a few inches high. “320” the sign read.

It was a very beautiful night in La Belle France.