I have taken immersion courses before in Nice and Biarritz, but each time my wife – who has no interest in learning French – has accompanied me, so the courses ended up more of a hosted vacation rather than a true immersion into the French language and culture.
But this course was different.
From the moment my train arrived in Paimpol to the moment I left, I heard and spoke very little English. Although Camille and Oliver speak excellent English, they made every effort not to. And none of Camille’s friends spoke English either.
When I arrived, I was greeted by a beautiful smiling Camille who picked up my 50 lb suitcase with one hand and tossed it into the rear of her car as if it were a baguette. She then drove me to her home, carried my suitcase upstairs and showed me my suite consisting of 2 bedrooms, a bathroom and a WC. For my privacy, the entire suite was curtained off from the rest of the upstairs.
My room was quiet, comfortable and well appointed.
As the weather was nice, Camille drove us to a remote isolated area and after following a trail through an old forest, we perched on a cliff overlooking a river and served a picnic dinner with champagne as we watched the sun set.
A goéland (seagull) that Camille had patiently been training to eat from her hand joined us for dinner
The next day settled into a routine. Breakfast around 9:00 followed by 2 to 3 hours of instruction followed by a pause, then lunch followed by either a scheduled activity or some freetime, then cooking with Camille and dinner with her and sometimes a friend of hers.
There was usually 2 to 3 hours of devoirs (homework) assigned everyday, but I rarely if ever got to all of it (and would receive a disappointed look and sigh the next day – and was even chastised once for not knowing my verb conjugations well enough to respond without thinking in the negative imparfait or using direct and indirect object pronouns in the negative interrogative form of past conditional. Iâm joking of course !!) Â
I started taking lessons from Camille about 20 years ago when she lived in Boston.
After she and Olivier moved to Paimpol, my wife and I visited them on several occasions and they were gracious enough to let us stay with them and be shown all the local sights.Â
So for my activities since I had already seen the more common sights, I chose some unusual activities such as a tour of a local oyster farm followed by an afternoon of pĂ©tanque (unheard of in the US, but a national pastime in France).Â
My host and guide Dominique assures me that pĂ©tanque will soon be an Olympic event (which I suspect will get as much airtime as curling or badminton). I received instructions on how to hold the hefty steel ball lightly with 4 fingers, swing the arm fully and launch the ball in a high arc so that it lands with a bit of back spin and doesnât roll.
I still donât understand the rules but here is what I took away. The game is started when someone throws out a cute little ball called a cochonette (piglet). Then each team takes turns trying to smash the bejesus out of it by tossing really heavy steel balls at it.
Dominique plays for hours every day and is quite good. I was a complete beginner.
We obviously lost our first match, but we crushed the other team on the second match, 16 to 3.. Â After a couple of exhausting give-it-your-all matches, we were completely worn out and went to a bar across the street where Dominique bought me a beer and discussed the art of the game.
The next day Dominique asked Camille if I was available to play on his team again.
On another day I took a tour with a local guide and learned how the French resistance risked it all and frequently lost their own lives while smuggling downed Allied airmen to a local beach in the middle of moonless nights so that they could be picked up and returned to England.
One evening I received a cooking lesson from Olivier. We (mostly he) made a spatchcock chicken on the weber and Jamie Oliver potatoes. Â
And since the French food is cooked without any (hot) spices and since the French believe that corn is only for pigs and cows, I brought with me all the spices (including fresh jalapenos ) necessary to make a real mouth warming, sweat on the forehead SouthWest style Chili and all the ingredients to make cornbread.
Camille invited over a group of friends who had never had either before for a Chili soirĂ©e. She put the brakes on the spice telling me that her friends wouldnât eat it if it were even mildly spicy. We found all the other necessary ingredients at the local Carrefour and I simmered the sauce and beef for two days. We also found Tortilla chips (corn) and fresh avocados so we made guacamole as well. We also served all the usual toppings such as grated cheese, creme fraiche, onions, black olives, etc…
To my surprise, Camilleâs friends loved it (or at least pretended to !) They finished all the cornbread, and most of the Chili. Some wanted more and more jalapeno to amp up the heat in the Chili and Guacamole. One of them took a whole fresh jalapeno home with her!  Â
So all in all, I had a great time, made some new friends and had an opportunity to practice speaking and hearing just French for my entire stay. Camille should name her immersion courses âLearn French while having funâ or something like thatÂ
If I can fit it into my schedule and can get another hall pass from my wife, I hope to be back next year.