School can be so beautiful
Learning in Nice: From the garden of the language school it is for our author Lisa Stocker only about 15 minutes walk to the famous Baie des Anges, the bay of angels.
"It's never too late for the French, Chérie," my aunt Irmgard said on the phone when she returned from a four-week language course in Nice, a gift she had made for her 75th birthday. Would not I like to go there? I have a humanistic school career behind me. Years ago, I tried to learn French at the community college. I now have more French dictionaries than any professional translator. But I have never really become at home in this language. I wanted to change that now. At 37 years.
The École Azurlingua resides in a beautiful yellow villa. A staircase leads to a garden full of benches - just like over there in my hotel "Villa Victoria" in the rue Victor Hugo, one of the many streets of Nice. My aunt, this nerd, lived in a host family, where she was allowed to wake up with kindergarten children. That's great for the vocabulary - but nothing for me. I'd rather spend the next three weeks with my students, lying on the beach, looking out to the Mediterranean and sitting comfortably in a sidewalk café.
The placement test. One of the teachers, a young man in Bermuda shorts and thinning hair, distributes pieces of paper with multiple-choice assignments. His name is Lionel. And the questions are part of a text about an unemployed French woman before a job interview. To understand the story, I first have to read it three times. A short squint on the sheet of my neighbor - it does not look much better. Exhausted I give up, but it goes on, in the garden our "oral level" should be checked.
View of the port of Nice
What I like best about Nice so far, Lionel asks and smiles in his coffee mug. The promenade, I say. The flower market. And that Nice is by the sea. More is not possible anymore. At the same time I would have liked to tell him how terrific my yesterday evening went. I climbed up to the old Schlossberg over the old town. As soon as I reached the top, a thousand lights went up over the stone beach and the ocher-brown-red mélange of Belle Époque palaces and apartment buildings. Nice's silhouette looked like a silver-lit crescent moon. Dark turquoise sloshed the sea to the "Bay of Angels". Lionel could certainly tell me why they call them that. But what does Bay mean? And what does angel mean? I'm in class A1: beginners with previous knowledge. My ambition awakens. During lunch breaks, I usually sit in the garden and look into the grammar book. I want to stuff a lot of words and verb forms into my short-term memory.
Nice language course: first successes in the classroom
My effort pays off - in the conversation course, I quickly make a respectful success in simple main clauses. "J'aime bien le savoir-vivre, I love the French way of life," I say. I like your chansons. The cinema. Yes, and I think the men are pretty good too. Okay, that was a bit thick. But in my situation you have to pull all the stops. Lionel beams. Unfortunately, he talks to me so fast that I can only smile embarrassed.
Enough for today. The air is still warm as I stroll through the old town. I stop at "Fenocchio". That's the name of the best Maître Glacier in the city. I try varieties like salt caramel, thyme and chocolate cranberry - addictive devil stuff! For dinner, I have an appointment with my classmates in the famous "Le Safari" at Cours Saleya, where street musicians play and Capoeira dancers whirl through the air. My colleagues are from Russia, Switzerland, USA and Japan - it is all about the fact that our French is quite difficult. Still!
A language course in Nice is like a journey through time
Bathing on the fine sandy beaches in Cannes
Because especially Gaelle wants to change that. "Qu'est-ce que tu fais dans la vie?" Is her first question. She tirelessly writes phrases and verb forms on the blackboard, which I confidently translate into the vocabulary book. But she prefers to tell her something about us. Where we live, work? Who we live with? Maiko from Japan, who does not reveal her age, says that she was a language teacher until she fell in love with a big Harley-Davidson fan from Nice. Dasa, 23, a Paris-Hilton clone with endless legs, arrived here in the gold-colored Mercedes SLK from Slovakia because she has no idea what to do with her business diploma. And Alex, the 25-year-old Finn, reports that he wants to go to Belgium as a human rights lawyer after studying law. I feel like I'm on a journey through time. Almost all are at least ten years younger than me.But becoming part of another world is much easier than expected. I organize a picnic with my new school friend Katharina, 23. We bring goat cheese, rosé wine, olives and Gâteau au Chocolat to the beach. And while the sun goes down slowly and next door, a few of these men who never freeze, jump into the water, she tells of her stress at the University of Berlin and I from everyday life as a freelancer.
Flea market at Cours Saleya
Our teacher Gaelle is only 28 years old. But she already knows all the tricks to motivate a school crowd to peak performance. Radiant, it gives everyone the feeling that his language skills are not so bad. But pretty good - no matter how poor his vocabulary is. Da Dasa, in search of a word, may so often sprinkle with her English counterpart - or Joze, a 60-year-old lawyer who joins us in the second week, wildly gestures crazy philosophies about love.
Joie de vivre in French: sitting in the evening at long tables in the "Le Safari" at the Cours Saleya and meeting friends.
Gaelle never despairs. Not even if, when asked what I did yesterday, I just use my standard phrases again. "Je suis allée à la plage" for example. (I was at the beach). On the other hand: it is true. As an eager language student, I just do not have much energy left for culture. In the morning I often go jogging on the promenade. In the free afternoons, I do homework on a lounger, which I rent in one of the beach clubs. Next to me French women chatting over their last rendezvous with ice-cold white wine. And quiet chill-out jazz strums in the background. Perfect! For the warm-up rounds in the class I now have an alternative sentence: "J'ai acheté beaucoup de belles choses." Yes, shopping is wonderful everywhere.
The reminder is: love songs by accordionist Joseph Trombitras in Nice.
Whether at the flea market, which takes place every Monday at the flower market, or in the market hall of Antibes, where I made a trip. There I ordered - without stuttering - some apple jam to the cheese. And bought champagne mustard for the home. And I could not decide on the hippie dresses - they somehow all looked sexy.
The farewell evening. Cours Saleya is crowded with people. We are back at "Le Safari", and I start a conversation with the cook without hesitation. How good this fish tastes. How wonderful the wine fits. And first of all this champagne. If only my aunt Irmgard were here now. I will write her a postcard before departure. In French, of course.
Travel Info: Language course in Nice
Excursion to Cimiez, where, in addition to a large olive grove, there is also the Musée Matisse and magnificent villas.
The language school Azurlingua (www.azurlingua.de) is centrally located in the Quartier des Musiciens, a 15-minute walk to the Promenade des Anglais and the old town. Language teaching is offered in six levels. The teaching material is included in the course price. After completing the course, each participant will receive a certificate. One week plus accommodation (in private accommodation) costs from 247 euros (LAL language travel, www.lal.de. It also gives flights to Nice). About the tour operator FTI nice hotels in Nice to book, www.fti.de.
Travel Guide: "Côte d'Azur" with map and many tips for excursions along the coast (288 p., 14.95 euros, Dumont Verlag).
Info: Office du Tourisme, 5, Promenade des Anglais, www.nicetourism.com (requests also in German).
