It was the seventies and two friends and I decided we needed a holiday after a busy year of teaching. We found a company called OSL. (Overseas Sun Limited), which offered flights and accommodation for a reasonable price and decided to head to the Costa Brava in search of sun and fun. (I have to say we didn’t do much research and there was no such thing as the internet then.) We landed at Girona airport quite late at night and were herded onto a minibus with a few other passengers and then began a tour of the dark and deserted city, dropping everyone off at their accommodation. Finally, we were the only three people left on the bus. We stopped at our named accommodation but were told it was full and there was no room for us. The driver suggested we could stay with his sister but there was nothing for it but to be dropped back at the airport. It was empty but we decided we would have to sleep on the uncomfortable chairs until the morning as there was little other option at this time of night! The early morning cleaners woke us up.
We found a taxi and asked to be taken to the nearest beach resort which is where we also believed there to be a tourist office or something related to the company. The taxi cost 1600 pesetas. And that is how we ended up in Estartit, not that far from the French border and 150 kms north of Barcelona. It was a Sunday but thankfully the office was open and we were given some accommodation. Even by our low standards this was not salubrious. We were sharing a room with three single beds squeezed into it, a tiny balcony and a smelly shower.
For two weeks we languished in the resort of Estartit, which had a glorious beach, a small main street and two discotheques as they would have been called then, Maxim’s and Le Trop. We seemed to spend a lot of time in Maxim’s and this is where I met Sylvain and his friends for the first time. A group of French boys camping in Estartit and three English girls. What fun and a good way to practise our French.
We kept a diary of our two weeks in Estartit and it makes very embarrassing reading. But we were young with no ties and having fun. It is extraordinary to think that forty-eight years later I would return to Estartit to holiday with Sylvain and his wife, Nathalie. The intervening years had seen both Sylvain and I each getting married twice and having children. In the beginning, we kept in touch with letters and I made occasional visits to Paris. Then there were invitations to big birthdays and weddings. Sylvain and Nathalie, who I have now known for thirty-five years, were on their way to my second wedding and got as far as the airport, where he discovered his passport was out of date! When Sylvain’s daughter, Juliette was sixteen she came to stay with me to improve her spoken English. We have met several times recently in France. It is such a joy that our friendship has lasted all of these years, despite our very different lives and the fact that we don’t share the same first language.
Forty-eight years later I find myself heading to Girona, where Sylvain and Nathalie meet me at the airport and we head off to Estartit. They have rented an apartment in the hills with a beautiful balcony which overlooks the port and the beach. We walk to the town which has one main street which I vaguely recollect and Sylvain shows me where my friends and I had stayed all those years ago. What an awful looking place! It has the word Es Lloga outside and looks like a hostel for down and outs and certainly not a hotel. Sylvain then takes me to show me the infamous nightclub, Maxim’s which has been derelict for several years but still has the sign outside it. Research tells me that it finally closed its doors in 2017, not that long ago really. While Nathalie heads to a shop, Sylvain wants to show me the campsite where he and his friends had stayed many times. He chats to the owner about visits he made over the years and we look at photos in the bar from a long time ago to see if there is anyone Sylvain recognises.
It is strange to revisit a place which holds such memories and in some ways is completely changed and in others almost the same. The glass bottomed boats still exist and the glorious wide expanse of beach. Maxim’s stands empty and the entrance up to it overgrown. Apparently, the owner is still alive and can be seen occasionally around Estartit. None of the bars or restaurants which I knew are here any longer, although Sylvain points out a souvenir shop which he says has always been there.
We spend a fabulous few days, reminiscing, talking about our friends and families and exploring the surrounding area of Estartit. Last time, my friends and I hadn’t ventured out of the town once, to my shame. I do remember suggesting to Sylvain one night that he could drive us in his mini to Barcelona but the temptations of Maxim’s were too great, so we stayed in Estartit. We visit the towns of Begur and Pals and Nathalie and I climb up to Montgri Castle, where we meet a band called Javentu, who are making a video for their new album. We eat some fabulous meals, a far cry from the omelette sandwiches consumed in the seventies. Juliette and her boyfriend arrive and we catch up as I haven’t seen her since she was a teenager. We visit the ruins of Empuries, a massive site of Greek and Roman ruins. The days pass too quickly and it’s time for a look around Girona before I board a flight back to England. I am surprised at the beauty of the city’s architecture and of course had only seen it years ago in the dark from the inside of a minibus! I feel sad to say goodbye to Sylvain and Nathalie but know we will see each other in France before too long.
Back to England for a couple of weeks and then once again I am packing a small bag to head off to meet old friends in France, the two with whom I holidayed in Estartit and two other friends. We all met many years ago when we were training to be teachers. This will be a relaxed trip and for the rest of the group, a first visit to M’s house, although I have been a guest there several times now. We are coming from different directions but three of us are arriving on the same day into Nantes and being picked up at the airport by M who will drive us to her home in St Hilaire de Voust. All goes well and we spend the first evening at home cooking up some food to suit all of us. This is a slight challenge as we have in the group: a vegan, someone who hates fish, a diabetic who needs to balance meals carefully and me with Crohn’s Disease. Tomorrow, S will arrive and she is allergic to garlic.
The next day we browse in the market of Fontenay-le- Compte, drink coffee and buy some food to eat in Parc Baron. M has to make a return trip to the airport in Nantes to pick up S. so we set off together in bright sunshine, leaving the other two behind in the house. Suddenly there is an incredible storm and the rain lashes at the windscreen, making it impossible to see and drive safely so we pull off the A87 at Les Herbiers. We learn by text that S’s flight has been delayed so there is no rush. When we arrive at the airport, all of the coffee shops are closed and we wait for S to emerge. We make the hour and a half hour drive back to the house and arrive in the early hours of the morning, The others are asleep and we try to keep quiet while we make a midnight snack. In the morning they tell us that we were very noisy.
The next day dawns and it is raining heavily. So far, this seems to have been a bit of a feature of my visits to Europe this year but I guess it is still only May! We have a lazy start to the day and decide that we need an indoor activity so go to visit the Faymoreau Mining Centre. This is a far cry from our gallivanting in Estartit. We head to Vouvant in the evening for a stroll and a meal in a restaurant.
Luckily the weather improves and the next day we visit Chateau Colbert at Maulevrier. This is a luxury hotel and gourmet restaurant where M and I had a sumptuous meal the last time I was here but it is closed on a Monday and would not have suited our various dietary requirements, so we visit the garden instead, where they grow all of their herbs and vegetables. After a picnic on a park bench, we head to the Parc Oriental de Maulevrier, which was created at the beginning of the 20th century by an architect named Alexandre Marcel. It is the biggest Japanese park in Europe and very beautiful. We head back for yet another meal at Le Rabelais in Fontenay le Compte. The last time we were here, M broke her tooth on a piece of sourdough bread.
We spend the next day driving to Saint Martin de Re and enjoy a long lunch and then drive on to La Rochelle. In the evening we have an informal book club meeting around the fire indoors as it is still too chilly to sit outside under the stars. This is something we did via Zoom in Covid times but never have we been all together in person to do this.
S needs to go back today but first everyone goes off to Niort to visit the market, while I stay behind to write an article for a newspaper. I also have an interview on Radio Norfolk later today so I need to be in the house for that. Everyone returns as the market is not open today and M and S leave to drive to the airport. The next day I have a live appearance in the afternoon on Radio Europe so we don’t go far in the morning, visiting Mervent, the Chill-Out Café and la Lutine for coffee and cake, There is a stressful moment for M when her sensor goes off, which indicates that her glucose levels have dropped dangerously low. Anything below 4 is potentially dangerous and she realises that her levels have dropped to 2.9. This means that she is unable to drive and needs to eat glucose quickly and then monitor her level again and subsequently eat something. I offer to drive but I can’t seem to put the car into reverse gear and we keep edging forward towards a ditch, but finally all is well and we get back to the house. M eats something and I turn on my laptop and prepare for my interview. The others are banished upstairs to listen so that they don’t make me laugh and they all sit on M’s bed and make a recording of it. That evening we have a last meal at the “local”, the Lion d’or, a rather shabby place but the food is good and we sit outside as it is finally warm enough.
The next day, M drops us all at Nantes airport to go in our different directions and she drives on up through France to get the ferry back to England.
We all met fifty-three years ago and between us we have nine children and nine grandchildren. Life has thrown some curve balls at us all on the way but our friendship has endured, hopefully with plenty more adventures ahead of us. Next stop for M and I: Tavira, Portugal.
