The First Time.

 You have made it through your first week in the camp. You got to know your roommates  and have a tight grip on your class schedule. 

Your 8 am class drags on....................................and on.


 "Encore, si vous plait. Je m'appelle..." you hear your professor say faintly. But you aren't paying attention. Oh no. Not with the breathtaking view that surrounds you. You can still feel the vibrations of the culture shock in your skin.
                                           Oh shit.
 Your class was outside today, and you're day dreaming. Gazing towards the gorgeous, never ending Mediterranean to your left. 
so  much  beauty. E V E R Y W H E R E.

You look at the time. Class is almost over. Freedom. As your professor dismisses class...           

      Merci a tout! 

you gather your things and head to lunch. You and your friends decide to take the bus to Nice for the day, and do some shopping in the infamous market. 

After a long day of class and shopping, you head back to camp for curfew. The sun sets behind the mountains. 

Nighttime welcomes you with a delicious dinner of Croque Monsieur and some music at the disco. 
Your friend Jess leans in and whispers "Wanna go to a real party?"

You sneak away from the "supervised fun", slipping into the dark to the dorms where some of your guy friends stay. You aren't even halfway there and already you are hit in the face with a wall of strong cologne. 
     
 Someone is trying too hard 

You muster the courage to go into Antoine's room. The whole gang is here. Everyone from class, even one of your roommates.






"Nothing about this room is right, but then again, everything about this room is right" -(whatisatextstudent)


 You notice Jess has a red cup in her hand
                               
                                     Howd that get there?
You see everyone has one. The new accessory tonight?
                                                                             S
                                                                             O   cups.
                                                                             L
                                                                             O
                                                                             
You're curious. You walk over to the kitchen table, and you are greeted with bottles of liquid you had never really hung out with before. Everyone seems to be friends with these bottles. They are the life of the party, along with their friends, Coke and Sprite.. and their distant cousin, Cranberry Juice. 

"What will it be, sweetie?". The guy behind the counter is the headmaster of the night. Everyone lines up to have some of his liquid courage. You recognize him from class. 
"I'll have a little of the vodka with Coke" you say timidly. He grabs the bottle and you see he knows how to work it. Like it was meant to be in his hand. 
You drink is ready. 
On the table. 
                        Ready. Set. Go

You take a sip. Then a gulp. 
                                                Woa.


You have never tasted anything like it. The taste is strong. It burns your throat like nothing else. 





Before you know it, you have had three of those delicious cups. 

  You begin to feel the warmth in your face. Your vision is giving out. No, you don't have glasses, but you sure as hell wish you did. 

Backwards.
                   Spinning. Spinning. gninnipS. gninnipS. gninnipS....

 The room is unsteady. Like water. F l o w i n g. You notice everything is humorous, you laugh and laugh at at every other word spoken to you. You cant
    Walk. 
                   You 
                                   

  are


           Stumbling.                                                      Everywhere.


No turning back now. 
You are too 




far



                                                 gone.

d'abord arrêter

               
             

   
 You walk up
                                   and up
                                             and up
the dwindling stairs.

Heavy breaths. 
                                       Damn it. How Much Longer?

 Last step in sight.  

 You see traces of your new home for the summer, Cap d' ail. You remember your father showing you a picture of a map before you boarded on the plane. Promising not to get lost, you memorized its location: Squeezed in between Nice and Monaco. It seemed amiss the mountains and the Mediterranean Sea. 
                                           
                                    Welcome to France.

As you walk in, multiple languages dance in the air like fairies. 

       French, 
                                    German,
                Spanish,                                 Italian...


You can barely catch them all.

You navigate through the crowds of students to the check in center. You see there are students here from all over Europe.  Many different faces approach you. 
                                   Excuse moi, Perdon, 'Scusi.

  Check in is done. You find your dorm and drop your bags off. Map in hand, you head for adventure. You begin to explore the "campus". Main attractions on your tour include: the disco, the courtyard, the classrooms, and the cafeteria. As you walk by your last destination, you stop. You are hit with a wall of breath taking aroma. You can smell the cooks preparing your dinner. Scents of oregano, basil, and other spices tease your nose. 
                                      
                           Pasta? With a really amazing sauce... maybe?


Suddenly

  You see a trail leading back down to where you first arrived. You decide to take the risk, and go to the uncharted land. After what seems like an e  t  e  r  n  i  t  y coming down nothing but shrubbery and dirt, you reach the most majestic scenery you have ever encountered in your life. The water gleams like a new crystal. The mountains around it sing to the water, almost swaying it back and forth. Cradling it.



You close your eyes and breathe in the sea air. You can feel the wind softly wrapping itself around your skin. You listen to the waves roar as they crash into the sandy shore. You swear nothing you have ever seen has been this                                         beautiful.