Ryedale | Archive | 2003 | August | 06
From the Gazette & Herald, first published Wednesday 6th Aug 2003.
"ARRIVING at approximately 1400 hours. Two hours to settle in. Sightseeing trip round the village - I've planned a route. Dinner will be at 1900... traditional English cuisine of spaghetti bolognaise..."
The Queen wasn't coming to stay, though you'd never have guessed it from the menacing timetable for the first fortnight of my holidays that was pinned to the kitchen notice board.
This military-like schedule was born from my less-than fantastic experience in Lyon at Easter - our French exchange partners decided to brave England, and being nothing but a delightful person, the thought of revenge never even entered my sweet head.
No, instead of leaving them to fester in their room, we sought to keep them entertained every waking moment (more to pass the time as quickly as possible, if I can just let my nice mask slip for a minute - you didn't really believe I had their best interests at heart did you?).
And so, with their early arrival on the day we broke up from school (that timetable was doomed from the beginning), a fortnight of "go, go, go!" commenced, with me forced to rely on full fat Coke for an artificial energy boost every hour or so just to keep up the pace.
We were the ultimate tourists and, after just a couple of days of museums, theme parks, boat trips and pointing out places where quaint English kings were beheaded (well they might have been), I was shattered and needed all the glucose I could get my hands on, not to mention my parents being completely broke. I got very well acquainted with Elgar's solemn face on the £20s my mum kept thrusting my way, which is just as well, as when I was having a country identity crisis (that's what comes from having two exchanges in one house - we were almost outnumbered), I could always look at him and burst into Land of Hope of Glory and feel British again.
It was tough work, especially as both girls were basically bilingual, so there was really no excuse for the long painful silences every mealtime while I tried desperately to think of something to say that didn't start with "Tomorrow we will..."
I couldn't even expand to what we would be doing the days after because it meant that I would be stuck for anything to say at dinner the next night.
I can't say I was too upset to see the French girls leave, though I can see how the exchange experience may have worked for people with compatible partners. But they're gone now so I think I'll resume my usual holiday position of reclining on the sofa to recharge my batteries - no need to think about homework for a bit as my French is all finished, courtesy of my Froggies. At least they were useful for something.
Updated: 11:49 Wednesday, August 06, 2003
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