At lunchtime, Jann and I grabbed a seat next to a long table with twenty-six kids (ages 8 to 12) who were all munching on what looked like hot dogs and mashed potatoes. Knives and forks were employed and the chatter, while animated, never really required adult intervention. The treat of the meal was a tray of chocolate gelato cones which even the timid eaters (like the boy who tasted a dog and made a face like he was being asked to eat dead skunk) slurped up.
The point of this? I like kids, and even more when they operate in that wide zone of happiness and freedom without being rude or unpleasant. This next statement may irk some, but the French do teach their children how to have fun without being obnoxious. I don’t always see this in other visitors to our little corner of the Mediterranean, but always in the French families. In pre-school, when the kids aren’t playing, they learn how to behave in public, and how to eat a proper meal using more than bare hands. I know I have lost a few of you with this, but stay with me.
Jann had suggested paddle-boarding early in our trip, so today was the day. I have done this once before on a placid river in California, so I was mildly confident. The guy at the concession asked, “are you experienced?” What was I to say? It was like asking a man if he knows how to field dress a deer. Of course I was going to say ‘yes.’ As we shoved off from the shore, he added, “stay on your knees for a while.” I should have followed his advice for the entire hour. The first time I tried standing, my legs were shaking like the leaves on an Aspen. I told Jann that I needed to cool my feet for a few minutes so I sat down. She was already up and floating on her board far ahead of me. A few minutes later I was up too and feeling so cool. Then I was down. I was down a lot today. ‘Down’ means in the sea. Most of the time I was doing a modified breast stroke as I slowly pushed my board back home. I did slide my way back onto the board to paddle the last hundred meters, on my knees.
