An attractive postcard arrived from France. It shows an old South Eastern and Chatham Railway poster advertising the attractions of the spa town of Enghien-les-Bains in the northern suburbs of Paris. Christmas and New Year messages have been exchanged with the sender every year for well over half a century, since Chris, with her friend, Sue, went youth hostelling and hitch-hiking together in the Lake District. A Citroen 2CV pulled up at the roadside and Andre and Erol, young medical students from the French capital, offered them a lift. Dinner at a restaurant in Keswick soon followed. The girls had even packed their home-made evening dresses in their rucksacks for any such eventualities. On their way down south after their Lakes adventure, the lads stayed at Chris’s dad’s family run hotel in New Brighton, where they became quite attached to the full English breakfast. When we got married in 1972, we spent part of our honeymoon at Erol’s parents’ apartment in Paris. Later on, and by then with our children, we were welcomed to Andre and Nicole’s home in Montmorency, where we met their own young family. We were then given a tour around the sights of Paris. Although we have kept in touch, we haven’t met up for many years - but that could still change.
It’s a heart-warming story - reaching out across borders, overcoming language differences and an appreciation of acts of kindness. It helps recall the eagerness and optimism of youth and all those similar journeys of exploration made in the company of friends. Historic Anglo-French rivalry, jingoistic newspaper headlines and the fuss over Brexit pale when compared to the value of maintaining such contacts, bringing with them comforting memories of significant moments from the past.
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