She smiled. “It’s funny…”
“What is?”
Natalie shrugged. “Well my major is Business and Economics,” she said. “But if I had to teach a subject I wouldn’t want to teach either one.”
“What would you teach?”
“History,” she replied.
“History, huh?” I said.
“I think I’d love that.”
“What kind of history would you teach?” I asked, with interest.
“British history would be my first choice,” she admitted. “But I’d also love teaching ancient history. I actually took both those courses in my first year. They were fantastic.”
“Who were your professors?”
“Jonathan Cooper for British History and Mira Kamal for Ancient History. She was the better lecturer, but he was more interactive.”
“What did you find so fascinating about British history, though?” I asked.
“You’re kidding, right?” Natalie said. “There’s the War of the Roses, the Tudor Dynasty, Imperialism.”
I laughed. “I’ll be honest; my interest was more on French history.”
“France,” she sighed lovingly. “I dream about France sometimes.”
“What do you dream about it?” I asked. “Apart from seeing the Eiffel Tower in snow?”
“Uh…the rest of the country.” Natalie laughed. “Paris is beautiful, and I understand why people love it so much. But there are other places to see in France. I want to see the cathedrals of Bordeaux; I want to walk through the vineyards in Loire Valley, I want to lie on the beaches of Biarritz. And most of all, I want to visit the Abbey of Mont Saint-Michel.”
As usual, I found myself impressed with her vast knowledge of the world and all its wonders. She wasn’t just another college girl who loved France because it was a hot vacation spot for tourists. She was interested in the culture, the people, and the history of the country.
“I’ve heard a lot about the Abbey…Mont Saint… What was it again?”
“Mont Saint-Michel,” Natalie offered immediately. “The whole island is amazing. It’s such a unique plan; the buildings look as though they’ve been piled on top of one another with the abbey at the very top, like an architectural Christmas tree.”
I smiled, and she continued on passionately. “It was built around 708 AD by monks. Apparently, it’s said that the Bishop of Avranches was visited by the angel Michael, and this visit was what inspired the Abbey.”
She was so engrossed in the conversation that she barely noticed when I pulled to a stop and turned off the engine. I just let her talk, enjoying how passionate she was. I realized she was actually teaching me new things. Despite my travels, she still seemed to know more than I did.
“What?” Natalie asked, after a moment, realizing that I was staring at her. “Oh God, I’m talking too much aren’t?”
I smiled and shook my head. “I like listening to you talk.”
“Really?”
“Really,” I nodded. “You talk about real stuff; it’s refreshing.”
She smiled self-consciously. “I just talk about the things I love.”
“Exactly,” I nodded. “Most girls your age talk about reality shows, clothes, and men.”
She raised her eyebrows. “Apparently you’ve been hanging out with the wrong group of twenty-one-year-olds.”
&