Story telling Sunday - Foreign Lands

Today being the first Sunday in the month it is story telling time. Why not post a story and pop it on Sian's blog and join in the fun. But if you don't have a story you can still go blog hopping around all those who do.

My story starts back in 1961 I was invited to go on holiday with my friend and her family to Spain, Loret de Mar on the coast. I had never been abroad before so I was excited. Trouble was I spoke no foreign languages and at the time apart from the hotel staff not many people over there spoke English. I was arrested, panic I didn't know why and the policeman who took me to the station didn't speak English. I found out eventually that it was because I was only wearing a bikini and I had come off the beach area where you could wear one to the shops in the next street back. You were supposed to cover up but I hadn't realised. After that I just didn't want to go out of the hotel complex.

My next excursion out of Britain was a day trip well 24 hours across to a port on the coast of France, in 1963. John had arranged for us to do something special as this was the day I should have married someone else, (that is another story) and I couldn't change my holidays but bless him he wanted me to have good memories of the day. We took the ferry over spent the day wandering around the town, no one spoke much English and although John had schoolboy French it was not a very good day. On the way back on the ferry we found a place on deck to snooze (couldn't really sleep and we didn't have a cabin) but it poured with rain. I thought that John had been a bit subdued and he told me on our way home that he had been given the sack on the Friday.

The next time I went abroad was in 1991, John and I were invited to go with friend to stay in the cottage they had bought in Couvains a small farming area in Normandy. The wife of our friends didn't sail well so we took the shortest route by ferry and drove across France. a long long drive and although they both drove I don't so John was the only driver in our car (they had their two daughters with them). Arriving at their cottage it was like going back to the dark ages, so primitive and a building site really.
They were friends with a local apple farmer and we spent quite a bit of time with them. but again I don't speak French, John spoke very little and no one was interpreting for us. I felt left out and very uncomfortable.

I swore I would never go abroad again. But........

I am on my way to Florida to Disney World with my Son and family in just 5 days time. At least it is English speaking and I should be understood and I am with family. I need to break the spell of foreign lands being frightening and uncomfortable places.