I grew up in the Netherlands and ever since I was a little girl, we went on vacation to France at least once a year.

I had 3 cousins in France and their grandmama lived in a little suburb of Paris in a great spooky mansion. The adventures we had were many and we loved the different culture, atmosphere and even the different smells.

What still stands out most clearly today is the old ladies singing in the church! ‘Monseigneur a tout a l’heure’.  Go figure.

Later on my cousins moved to Arcachon, 1 hour or so west of Bordeaux. The first few years they rented a house with a private beach in a oyster cove. We were always either on the beach, in the water or having contests who could capsize their little sailing boats the most.

Close by was Biscarosse with waves so tall, the surfers would go crazy trying to catch them. I don’t remember any surfers in those days, but body surfing, or just plain trying to survive going under the waves crashing on the beach was great fun.

Another day we were there, we tried to row a blow up raft on shore. My uncle was a yacht designer and owned the prototype of one of his designs. We had slept on a sand island under the starry sky and the yacht could not possibly hold all 12 or 13 of us to sail back home.

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