Daphne and the Missing Evidence

I met Daphne in my time as a student at the Université de Savoie. Like me she was there to learn French. As an historian of seventeenth century French history, Daphne had a firm purpose in needing to understand the language better and was a dedicated student.

I believe we became firm friends the first day we met.  She is a feisty and passionate woman who knows how to spin a great yarn, and that she frequently did on our regular walks together, through the countryside that surrounds the medieval, alpine town of Annecy.

One walk, coming out of a wooded copse into open farmland, something about an empty old Victorian bathtub, that had been left in a field for watering the cows, prompted a funny story from Daphne.  The tale resulted in me taking off most of my clothes, leaping into the tub and posing for pictures as though I was having a bath. It having been the middle of an icy, northern hemisphere, mountain winter, my nude bath scene cost me no small measure of discomfort and goosebumps. Daphne assures me she has the photos somewhere but to this day I have never seen them.  I am wondering if I still want to.

We have shared other adventures together such as a visit to Paris where we met up with Georges to visit the Musée Rodin, a touristy day out in Toronto with a lunch at the Royal Canadian Yacht Club and fine dining in Montreal that resulted in food poisoning for her mum and I.

This fun and varied photo strip of Daphne was taken somewhere in France in March 1994 as a (very special) present for me.