and then there were links...

When I was in the tenth grade, my French teacher arranged a trip to France through one of those mid-grade educational tours -- the one where she gets to go for free if so many people sign up, and then 10 more for her husband, etc. I obviously HAD to go, and I did -- I was the French "prodigy," we'll say, of my central Oklahoma high school, managing to skip ahead through independent study and yada yah. I have very vivid, blurry memories of this trip - my first out of the country, ever. They're like snapshots from an old camera (and probably, if I go back though my photos of the trip, that's exactly what they are - the photos, not the real memory...).

I remember a half-dark plane crossing the atlantic. I remember Paris, it was overcast and cold, and the sand-colored gravel around the Louvre was not the lush palace garden I'd expected. The Mona Lisa was behind glass that glared, and was hard to see. I had a crush on a boy who was also on the trip, who wore a long black trench coat and looked like the Highlander -- I remember that very well. He was sort of a loner, and spent his time wandering around with the science teacher/chaperone Mr. Nole, who was also the detention teacher, and so knew him well. I tagged along - both of them were happy to be willingly followed by someone who could order cheeseburgers for them and didn't really want to go shopping at Le Printemps. I remember they ordered a Heineken together at a bar, and I didn't know whether I should get alcohol (isn't it illegal for a 16 year old to have alcohol??) or a coke. I remember some ice cream, and a crepe, and a car museum. I remember having a charcoal drawing done in Montmartre. I remember a prostitute was arrested in the lobby of our hotel at night, and it was the first time I'd seen one. I remember the painful decision - Mrs. Tippen wanted to see the Eiffel Tower at night, but Mr. Tippen had agreed to accompany some students to the Latin Quarter. Everyone grouped up with Mr. Tippen and it was down to me... I'm sorry Mrs. Tippen, I would've been branded a dork for life. The bartender could toss the bottles in the air and twist them as he poured. At least I got everyone back on the metro all right.

Then I remember a train, and we went south to a lot of towns that start with N... Nimes, Nice, a bus. Sun, and we were quite tired. Things are hazy, I remember a fountain and we went to a candy factory and a perfume factory - Fragonard, because I still have the bottle of "Rendez-Vous" that I bought there. I bought some chocolate "seagulls eggs" but ... I thought I had more francs than that... I could only get one bag. More time on the bus, an hour in Monaco, a jostle of people, what? a prince? I can't see, too short. More bus, into Italy, to Milan, it was overcast and the city smelled like piss. We only had four hours until our flight home, and I stayed on the bus.

Back in Oklahoma, about a month later, I flipped open one of my French books and found 300 francs. They said not to keep your money all in one place. They said it was safest, for our own good (nevermind that Mr. Tippen was the only one of us to get pickpocketed! from an exterior pocket of a fanny pack on a crowded subway!). And I had, like an idiot, and it was too late, the chocolate was gone, and what had been the name of it anyway...?

Over the years the memories grow dimmer and I remember these chocolate eggs, the enjoyment, crunchy sugared shell and chocolate inside, but something else too, another flavor. The disappointment that I couldn't afford more at the time. The regret of "playing it safe" with my francs. Ahh... the evanescence of youth, travel, experience.

Except now. In the internet age, what is ever lost? For a recent random internet search has yielded fruit - I, the traveler, passed through and went on, but the candy factory is still there, and doing quite well -- it's called Confiserie Florian and it's right next to Fragonard in Grasse, along the Cote d'Azur. Another traveler will tell you all about them on Frommers. "Rendez-Vous" has been discontinued, but Confiserie Florian still has its Oeufs de Mouettes and I can order them at any time; for the right price, they deliver all over the world. Cliquez-ici.

I meant to order them earlier, so we could have them delivered in the EU, but I put it off. I loved this candy, I search for its equivalent every year - I eventually turned to Cadbury mini-eggs every Easter as a pale, shadowy substitute (interestingly, another candy whose appeal partially comes from its limited availability). But... do I want to order them? ... What if they ... taste different than I remember?? I am not the same, perhaps my tastebuds more so. Am I prepared to revisit the flavor that I have dreamed of, idolized, searched for, and resigned myself to keeping and holding only in my memory, a memory tied up in youth, travel, searching, escaping, longing... And now I can just order that off the internet???

I will try them, one day. But... perhaps I will hold on to my memory a little longer.