Photograph Source: Arquivo Nacional – Public Domain

Okay, no. I did NOT sit next to the late French actress, Brigette Bardot. But it very easily could have been her.

I was there on holiday with a group which included my partner, family and friends. After an excursion we took to a monastery in the back country, we decided to take a local bus back down to the city. As it was crowded, I took a seat in the back and I happened to sit next to an elegant, elderly white French lady.

In my mind’s memory, she resembled Lauren Bacall as she appeared in her late 70’s. Stylish, poised, cultured and monied, the latter being something of the distant past since she was condemned to taking a bus with all of us rubes and sunblock slathered tourists.

She spoke impeccable French. And, for some reason, she took a shine to me. Even after I told her in my egregious French that I was not fluent in any way, she began a conversation with me that spanned the hour and a half ride down through the lush hills of the south of France.

She spoke of her childhood. The post-war struggles and sacrifices. Something about living in a one room flat in Marseille with either her........

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