The french thread …
I first discovered the ‘french thread‘ when my boyfriend (now my husband) was invited to Banyuls-sur-Mer, nestled in the Pyrenees.
There he undertook his doctorate working on the physiology of octopus at the Laboratoire Arago, which overlooks the stunning Mediterranean coast near the border with Spain. The thread then resolutely wove its way throughout our lives – the slow and often painful acquisition of the beautiful French language, the visits in Melbourne to French theatre, French film and the impressive French restaurant scene.
A deeper association followed as our children undertook gap years at schools in France and Belgium. Then, the much anticipated email exchanges with newly acquired friends about life, love, culture and politics in France opened up our minds to different perspectives on life’s ‘big questions’. Finally, to ensure our appetite for things French remained primed, each Christmas tantalizing boxes would arrive from our ‘French Families’ which promised new French delights – la confiture Bonne Maman, les caramels au beurre sale et les galettes au pur beurre. . Our ‘french thread‘ binds us to these experiences – a gentle tug and off we go on another of life’s French adventures.