My teenager and I are both anxious about the school trip to Epinal next week.
“Mum, I don’t want to goooo” she says.
We looked at pictures of her ‘correspondant’, the girl she will stay with.
“She’s a geek!” declares my teenager in dismay.
“I’m sure she’s very nice” I reply firmly but note that both parents are accountants.
My daughter and her friends have started a special group on Facebook, inviting the exchange students to join. The London lycée students are talking, with awe, about the fact that the students from Epinal are allowed out till midnight on weekdays and 3 a.m. on weekends.
“That’s because they are in the countryside” I explain “they probably just hang out at each other’s houses or play babyfoot in the local tabac. It’s not like they are out clubbing, as they would be if they lived in London.”
The return exchange happens in March, when they come to us. No way are they going out till midnight or 3 a.m. in London, I don’t care what her parents have given permission for or what the form says.