How A French Plum Pastry Broadened My Horizons

When I was a little girl, the family holidays I went on consisted of caravans, kids clubs and pebbled beaches. The idea of going anywhere outside of the holy trinity (Cornwall, Devon, Kent) seemed preposterous to my parents. 

Despite enjoying our annual summer holidays I would always trundle back to school in September, desperately trying to hide my jealousy as other students recounted their jaunts to the South of France and Spain. Worse than that, was that one kid who went to Disney World every year. 

Of course, it's only now with hindsight that I realise my parents worked hard to pay for our holidays and I appreciate the beauty of places like Cornwall. 

Plus, I definitely wouldn't want to visit another country with two squabbling children, so I get it. 

Seriously, I'm impressed my mum and dad had the restraint not to just straight up murder me or my sister during those long 6 hour car journeys. 

"No, Laura, you can't put the Smurfs CD on again, Dad, tell her!", "Muuuuum, Emma hit me", "I need to go to the toilet" rinse and repeat.  

The day I got permission to go on a school trip to France, I was elated. It was my first time abroad and I loved every minute of it. 

We visited an area near Normandy and stayed in a beautiful bed and breakfast with a huge garden that backed out onto the beach. It was so luxurious compared to my past experiences of Brownie Girl Guide camps and caravan park holidays.  

We visited the Bayeux tapestry, various churches, an orchard and a vineyard (I'm guessing this was more for the teachers, than us - can't say I blame them). Whilst exploring the local area, we found a charming little bakery and I plucked up the courage to speak French. 

"Je voudrais un pâtisserie prunelle, s'il vous plaît" I announced proudly. 

What happened next, blew my little mind. 

The lady behind the counter took her tongs, removed a plum pastry, placed it in a bag and responded, "huit francs". 

Oh yes, this was pre-Euro France. I am old. 

I handed her the money, took my pastry and left. 

I stood outside, taking stock of what had just happened. I felt a smile widen across my face. 

I was understood. 

I had successfully communicated to a French person in their native language and they had understood me. 

That plum pastry remains to this day, the best I've ever had. I'm 99% sure it's because of the sheer joy I felt upon communicating in French. 

I genuinely believe that's why I enjoy learning languages and experiencing other people's culture so much. 

Later during the very same trip, to help pass the time in the evenings our teachers organised a talent show. I couldn't dance (I was kicked out of dance school - but that's a blog post for another day) and I didn't know any tricks. I enjoyed singing but it certainly wasn't a particular strength. 

Still reeling from my successful pastry transaction, I made a spur of the moment decision to participate. I didn't know what I would sing but I had chosen to sing something. I knew I didn't have the range to sing like Shirley Manson from Garbage (who I absolutely idolised at the time) but I also knew it had to be song I was really familiar with. 

Merci, Martine!

After thinking long and hard about it, I settled on a song by a soap star turned singer. My mum had recently bought her album and it was one I'd listened to on our last 6 hour journey to Cornwall. 

I knew it just as well as I knew "I Want A Little Puppy" by The Smurfs (thanks for that, Laura). 

The song I sang, perhaps prescient in title, was "This Is My Moment" by Martine McCutcheon of Eastenders and Love, Actually fame. Added bonus, her first name was French!

Feeling confident and with a spring in my step, I practically bounced my way onto our makeshift stage in the shared dining room and belted it out with everything I had. 

The thing you need to understand is that though I was an outgoing child, I wasn't loud or confident. I spent my lunch breaks in the art rooms on my own, working on my sketchbook or reading books alongside a group of other introverted friends in our form room. 

But I was on a high, France had emboldened me and I felt like I could do anything. When it was over, everyone applauded and whooped. My teachers were amazed and I was told by one of the popular kids that I had an amazing voice. It was unusual and yet pleasantly surprising.  

Somehow, despite an excellent rendition of "Hit Me Baby (One More Time)" complete with killer dance moves and some incredible acapella from several choir members, I came 1st. 

I won some French language novels, a notebook and some fancy twist up pencils. I still have the novels somewhere in my house. Later that year, I performed the same song on stage at our Year 9 Talent Show in front of the entire year group. 

I didn't win. 

In fact, the music drowned me out and my voice was only heard for the final verse by which time I had lost all confidence. I felt embarrassed and disappointed. But what did I expect? I was back in the UK, back to reality and surrounded by the familiar. I came last and thus ended my short-lived career as a singer.

But that's the power that travel has. When you're in an unknown place and out of your comfort zone, the only way you can truly grow is by embracing fear. Don't be afraid to try local delicacies, attempt to speak in a foreign tongue, be curious, be bold. That's how we test our limitations. Travel encourages us to take risks. New surroundings give us the strength to try new things and make the unknown, known. 

If I think back to the last holiday I went on, I did so many things that I definitely wouldn't have done back home in the UK. I chose to have a go on a zip line, I walked over a see-through bridge, climbed a waterfall and went paddle boarding in the ocean. These are not the things I would opt to do usually but when I'm in another country somehow I'm able to overcome my anxieties. 

That's why when I hear about people who can afford to financially, yet actively choose not to travel outside of their county, let alone their country, it frustrates me so much. There's a reason people say travel broadens your horizons, it's because it does. 

I thought I'd end with this quote from Susan Sontag. It sums up exactly how I feel about travel.