A thirty-year gap melted into a dew when I saw my dear friend Virginie Noel standing at her door in Talence, France. What a gift to see her, meet her daughters Gaetana and Eleanor, and share both memories and life stories with my oldest of friends.
I arrived during Gaetana's 12th birthday party, so I also got to meet her friends, her frends' parents, and hear Happy Birthday in French, which sounds pretty sweet.
Virginie popped some bubbly, and we had a lovely dinner under the grape arbor in her garden. We found we hadn't lost the common language and understanding we had when we were teenagers. How amazing to finally have Virginie's spirit back in my life.
We took an hour-long drive out to Lacanau the next day, where Viriginie has an apartment. I'd never been on the Atlantic Coast in SW France, and so was really surprised to see how little development there is, and how wild the coast remains. Miles and miles and miles of white-sand beach, dunes, and grasses. It felt like you could walk for days on the beach. We only walked for hours, but it was just the tonic for the days I spent in the car to get here. Lacanau is a popular surfing spot, and is packed in August. But in mid-June, it was quiet and lovely.
There are relics of WWII on the beach, though: concrete German bunkers built into the dunes. It was sobering to sit in front of a bunker, thinking about what the French endured during the occupation, and hear stories about Virginie's parents and grandparents' experiences and ordeals during both WWI and WWII. It brought a touch of the horror and fear they experienced into a sharper focus than I'd ever experienced. War really does suck.
It was hard to say goodbye, but knowing I'll see her again in July at Can Cornes made it a sweet farewell. Thanks, Viriginie, for everything...
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