Trois-Pistoles, Je t'adore!

Oh Trois-Pistoles. I studied French there for five glorious weeks in the summer of 2005, departing Toronto by Viarail on Canada Day, July 1st. I had applied and had been awarded a bursury from the Canadian government to facilitate bilingualism in Canada. Of course the catch was that I had to sign a contract promising that I would only speak French. ;P

Picture a tiny town of about 2000 friendly, loving people on the edge of the St. Lawrence River in the midst of forests and gorgeous waterfalls. Now picture about 300 bicycles belonging to 300 anglophone students jockeying for space outside of a nondescript brown building perpetually under construction.

Trois-Pistoles, or 3P as we affectionately know it, gave me refuge and comfort and hope in what was a very troubling time in my life - 'cuz you know, sometimes La vie frappe hardcore, encore, dans la coeur! I can't describe how it felt to lie on the grass, looking up into a sea of bright stars, making up new words with my housemates. Or the pure joy of an all night campfire vigil that in lasted song and laughter until after the sun rose. Fortunately, the Canadian government got their money's worth too. The French of high school that I had completely forgotten post-Spain came right back. Even today my spirit revels in the sound of French rolling off my tongue (it really is a gorgeous language).

There are many, many pictures from 3P posted on my yahoo page. Week: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5.