“Je voudrais quatre pan de chocolate s’il vous plait,” I whispered to the shop assistant in the grocery store on our campsite in the south of France. “Oui, oui,” he replied, smiling. Spurred on by his smile, I continued “C’est combien?
My daughter stood open-mouthed. As we left the shop with me calling out : “Au revoir, au revoir” loudly, buoyed up by my successful negotiation over the chocolate croissants, she said: “Wow. Mummy, you can speak another language.”
Being educated in Dubai has meant my children are surrounded by friends who can speak two, three or sometimes more languages.
My daughter, in particular, is desperate to master a second language making my secondary school grasp of French an inspiration for her own learning.
This was one of many wonderful moments during a week-long stay at La Baume campsite near the town of Frejus on the French Riviera.
We had flown by EasyJet from London - an experience in itself for my offspring more used to the luxury that comes with the UAE’s leading airlines. ‘Where’s the TV?,” they chorused when they boarded the plane and found no flat screen installed in the seat in front.
But once we had driven 60 kilometres away from Nice Airport and unloaded the contents of our hire car into the static caravan, our home for the week, their love for electronic gadgetry disappeared.
The children were mesmerised by all the potential hiding places in our two-bedroomed cabin, from the the tiny bathroom to their bunk bed and the seating area in the kitchen diner area. A caravan, while not the most glamourous holiday accommodation, is perfect for young offspring - my son is four and my daughter, seven.
And this caravan was one of many on a 780-pitch campsite with seven pools, waterslides, several restaurants and endless sporting activities.
There were screams of “look, look at this,” as they peered behind doors and opened cupboards.
Not only that, with Wi-Fi only available in reception, the mobile phones were turned off, the iPads packed away and we spent an entire week completely unaware of what was going on in the world. Bliss.
The campsite, on the larger side compared to others in the area because of its array of recreational activities, was packed full of French holidaymakers. That evening there was an almost carnival atmosphere as families dined in the slightly fast-food offerings on site or walked back to their caravans in their swimsuits from marathon water polo sessions in the pools. Teenagers performed stunts in the skate park while young children geared up for the camp disco.
The next day we headed to the nearest Carrefour and stocked up on local French cheeses, breads, meats, fresh salads and beverages.
Our supermarket spoils lasted the whole week - there was enough for feast-like breakfasts, picnic lunches on the nearby beaches or lavish dinners, cooked on the barbecue outside our mobile home before we settled down on our patio furniture to play board games.
For the children, the pools - crammed full of excitable French teenagers – quickly lost their attraction. Instead they wanted to try archery, go horse-riding for the first time and play endless games of boules - much to the amusement of our French neighbours - all of which were available on site along with pretty much any sporting activity you fancied. There were on-site reps who organised sports tournaments, aerobics sessions and endless children’s activities.
Our children preferred to stick with us so when we wanted to dodge the mayhem, we headed to the Riviera’s exquisite beaches, burrowed deep underground to search for fairies in the Grotte de la Baume Obscure caves near Grasse or took leisurely drives along the coastline to Cannes. After an action-packed day we retreated to the quiet of our caravan where only the sound of a nearby camper’s card game or a boules session could disturb the peace.
After seven days we were tanned, relaxed and my French had reached new levels of competency. My daughter returned home from school the other day and declared to a friend: “My mummy’s going to help me with my French homework, because she speaks it properly.” Until her language skills are strong enough to notice, I’m not going to tell her otherwise.
arayer@thenational.ae
