Many Americans lost their
collective minds when France said “No” to George W. Bush. It happened after
Bush illegally invaded and occupied Iraq, a sovereign nation that never once
did anything to the United States other than sell some over-priced oil. Bush
asked France to be part of the “Coalition of the Willing” in his effort to
subdue Iraq and Saddam Hussein. France, being a sane and sovereign nation told
W they wanted no part of what he was doing. From this beginning, a wave of
anti-France passion swept over the United States. That wave also demonstrated
how quickly Americans forget their own history.
France has been (and remains) Americas longest and most fervent ally. Were it not for the French and their blockade of the mouth of Chesapeake Bay at the near the end of the American Revolutionary War, Americans today would be bowing down to King Chuck and Queen Cammy and we would be driving on the wrong side of the road. Were it not for the French and the French resistance in World War II, there would be hundreds of thousands of American soldiers buried on the shores of Normandy rather than the tens of thousands who remain there today.
Not long after France told W Bush where to shove it and how deeply, I was seated in a bar on Fairfax Drive in Arlington, Virginia. The television was tuned to CNN and a reporter provided a brief summary of the current state of anti-France hysteria sweeping across America. With several bottles of liquid courage already in me, when the reporter finished her story I thrust my fist in the air and exclaimed “Vive Le France!” Almost instantly the bartender asked me to leave saying “We don’t want any French-loving liberals in this bar.” A colleague from my office, there having a drink with me told me as I prepared to leave “Standing up for the arrogant French is not a good idea right now!”
Before my first trip to France, I heard many stories from Americans about the arrogance of the French people. After five trips to France, from Normandy to Corsica I am convinced that the only arrogant people in France are Americans there looking for an arrogant French person. No matter if it was a lost hotel reservation or difficulty finding the Louvre in Paris or simply ordering a sumptuous French meal for dinner, I found the French overwhelmingly courteous and willing to come to my assistance. Although I am far from fluent in French, it helps to at least try to speak the language rather than expecting everything in English as too many Americans have shown. Today about the only arrogant French people I can find are from Quebec. Their passports all say “Canada” but deep down they seem to wish they were still a part of “New France.”
"New France" once included much of North America. All that remains today are 7 tiny islands off the coast of Newfoundland
The following, from Wikipedia, explains a bit of the history of New France:
New France was the territory colonized by France in North America, beginning with the exploration of the Gulf of Saint Lawrence by Jacques Cartier in 1534 and ending with the cession of New France to Great Britain and Spain in 1763 under the Treaty of Paris.
A vast viceroyalty, New France consisted of five colonies at its peak in 1712, each with its own administration: Canada, the most developed colony, which was divided into the districts of Québec, Trois-Rivières, and Montréal; Hudson Bay; Acadie in the northeast; Terre-Neuve (Plaisance) on the island of Newfoundland; and Louisiane. It extended from Newfoundland to the Canadian Prairies and from Hudson Bay to the Gulf of Mexico, including all the Great Lakes of North America.
In the 16th century, the lands were used primarily to draw from the wealth of natural resources such as furs through trade with the various indigenous peoples. In the seventeenth century, successful settlements began in Acadia and in Quebec. In the 1713 Treaty of Utrecht, France ceded to Great Britain its claims over mainland Acadia, Hudson Bay, and Newfoundland. France established the colony of Île Royale on Cape Breton Island, where they built the Fortress of Louisbourg.
The population rose slowly but steadily. In 1754, New France's population consisted of 10,000 Acadians, 55,000 Canadiens, and about 4,000 settlers in upper and lower Louisiana.. The British expelled the Acadians in the Great Upheaval from 1755 to 1764, which has been remembered on July 28 each year since 2003. Their descendants are dispersed in the Maritime provinces of Canada and in Maine and Louisiana, with small populations in Chéticamp, Nova Scotia, and the Magdalen Islands. Some also went to France.
After the Seven Years' War (which included the French and Indian War in America), France ceded the rest of New France to Great Britain and Spain in the Treaty of Paris of 1763 (except the islands of Saint Pierre and Miquelon). Britain acquired Canada, Acadia, and French Louisiana east of the Mississippi River, except for the Île d'Orléans, which was granted to Spain with the territory to the west. In 1800, Spain returned its portion of Louisiana to France under the secret Treaty of San Ildefonso, and Napoleon Bonaparte sold it to the United States in the Louisiana Purchase of 1803, permanently ending French colonial efforts on the American mainland.
New France eventually became absorbed in the United States and Canada, with the only vestige of French rule being the tiny islands of Saint Pierre and Miquelon, an overseas collectivity of France. Sitting only 30 miles off the coast of Newfoundland, Saint Pierre and Miquelon has been a travel priority since I first learned about the islands and their unique history. The difficulty was justifying the expense of time and money to travel there.
Access to these islands is
tricky and frustrating. There is a once-daily ferry from mainland Newfoundland
but it operates from near St. John’s Newfoundland, and I have only been to St.
John’s once. Flight is a possibility on Air Saint Pierre but it flies only from
Montreal, Halifax, and from St. John’s. Add to the logistics issues the fact
that when you are in Saint Pierre and Miquelon you are in France. It’s not a
new country. It’s as much France as the Champs-Elysees and the beaches of
Normandy. However, any of the seven islands of the group would be additions to
my list of islands visited. Plus, Saint Pierre and Miquelon is one of only two
locations in North America for which I do not have a bird list (Greenland is
the other). It bothered me that I had not been to the islands but I could not
find a way to go there cheaply and easily. Until now.
Searching the listings of upcoming cruises on Norwegian Cruise Line we found a cruise leaving Reykjavik, Iceland on July 1, 2024 whose routing takes it to Greenland, then to Newfoundland with a one-day stop on Saint Pierre. From there it continues on to Halifax Nova Scotia and the cruise ends in New York City. On top of the itinerary the cruise was on the Norwegian Star, a ship we had been on three times previously. I called Norwegian, made a deposit, and now on Wednesday, July 10, 2024 we arrive on Saint Pierre at 9:00 a.m. local time. Sadly, we leave at 4:00 p.m. the same day so time to explore will be limited. Norwegian had an excursion to “Sailor’s Island,” a nearby abandoned island that is supposedly smothered with nesting seabirds. We waited too long to book the excursion and when I tried we found it to be already sold out.
Perhaps we will just stroll around town, stopping in a pastry shop inhaling the intoxicating scent of excellent French baking, or find a sidewalk café for some fromage and a glass of vin rouge. I once took a French language class where the instructor told us “If you can say the word ‘baguette’ you never have to worry about starving in France.” Maybe we will just do that. It won’t be like Jimmy Buffett sings “In a week I’ll be in gay Paree, and that’s a mighty long airplane ride,” but at least we will be in France.
What a fascinating story of this former colonial stronghold, Craig! Who knew that my current abode in Indiana was on formerly French soil?!
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