Once, from behind the brightly painted blue farmhouse door, framed in roses in a deliciously lazy corner of the Loire Valley, I was greeted by a very French, very hospitable BnB host.
‘Bonjour Madame’ I started and then braced myself to deliver an apology for my pigeon French with the best of my school girl capability.
‘C’est bon’…she started, unperturbed, and commenced a tour. ‘Le Cle’ she said as she handed me an enormous old key, ‘…pour la Chambre’ she said gesturing to the bedroom. It went on. Casual references to what I needed to know. Words with gestures. A casual game of charades to equip us with enough knowledge to settle in a la Maison.
The days melted past us in the summer heat, my french conversational skills relaxing into them over croissants & unbelievably good confiture Maison. The skills I had learned were allowed to be dusted off from an archive in the old ‘Mind Palace’. We had a very good time and I thought I understood why she had been listed in my favourite travel guide: ‘Alastair Sawdays, Special Places to Stay’.
Packed and ready to leave, I handed ‘Le Cle’ back to Madame and thanked her for a delightful stay.
‘My pleasure entirely.’ She effused with Chelsea grade perfection. ‘I do hope your parents enjoy the Chateau Villandry – be sure not to miss the garden, it really is magnificent. Au revoir my dear’.
We exchanged a look: mine a broad grin of instant understanding and gratitude, hers a knowing smile, eyes twinkling.
Unlike many other beautiful visits to France, where my experience of exercising an otherwise untapped skill has been cut short (mainly because my hosts generally held a superior standard of English and possibly not the patience Madame), this trip felt different. It felt totally authentic. Totally empowering. It felt like I was living like a local; effectively communicating; refreshing my own capability.
I booked some special accommodation in order to relax and explore, but on top of that, I got self-confidence and expansion. I went to spend time connecting with my parents but I also reconnected with a skill and a vision of myself – one where I can speak French…even if it’s Pigeon. And Madame? Well, that special lady knew exactly what she was providing – it was Good CX.
The latest thinking from Good CX
Ideas worth arguing with
Every so often we share what we’re learning about customers, the people who serve them, and what a leader can do with it. If we get in touch, it’s with something worth pulling apart with your team. Unsubscribe in one click.
You’ll get one confirmation email first, so we know it’s really you. We handle your details in line with our privacy policy.