I took my family to Northern France this spring to visit my cousins who now live there. I realised that their house was quite close to a town whose name I recognised. I’d visited St Hilaire on a school exchange programme when I was 13 years old and stayed for a week with a boy called Sylvain. I’d hated every minute and as a young teenager, never took a moment to appreciate the beauty of my surroundings.
I felt better about it after revisiting.