I learned to row at Green Lake in Seattle, Washington when I was 15 years old. Back then, the start command for rowing races was in French, Êtes-vous prez…partez ! I also knew the French word for rowing, aviron , from posters of world rowing championships of years past. I rowed in college for three years -- long enough to need a break three times that long before I ever set foot again in a racing shell. In my forties, I joined a local rowing club and re-started the sport in earnest. This year marks my 8th year back. From inside the boathouse at Mauguio-Carnon When my family and I visited Paris and Lisbon, I made arrangements to row with local clubs in each city. In Paris, I was lucky to find a small group of similarly-aged men who rowed out of a boathouse on the Seine. They let me join their four, and then they invited me to dinner. They made me feel like family even though I hardly knew them. For Montpellier, I contacted a local club and found the same, warm welcome. O...
Comments
Post a Comment