"My name is Chloé, I'm 8 years old, and I'm going to tell you about our incredible adventure!"

Our camper van had been driving on mountain roads for a very long time.

Dad was driving, whistling, and Mom was looking at her paper map because she said it was better than a phone for traveling. I was sitting at the little table and drawing everything we saw.

Behind them, my little brothers Gaspard and Clément were playing with their cars.
“Vroom!” Tululut, tululut! Pin-pon Pin-pon! »
The twins are only 3 years old, so they don't really understand what's going on, but they're happy anyway.

I asked, "Is it still far?"
I know I've asked this many times already, but I was too impatient!

"Soon, my little one, we'll be at the border in no time," said Mom.

I was super excited but also a little stressed. Dad had explained to us that in that country, people don't speak French. Not at all. Not even a little bit. It felt strange to imagine that.

"Dad, what if we don't understand anything they're saying?" I asked, chewing on my pencil.

"We'll manage, Chloé! We'll use gestures, we'll smile, and you'll see, people always end up understanding each other when they make an effort."

Easy for him to say! I was a little scared, though.

When we crossed the border, I pressed my nose against the window. The signs were written in strange letters, the houses were different, and even the colors seemed brighter. It was too beautiful but also too different.

Dad decided to stop in a village to buy food. When we got out of the camper van, I immediately felt like it was a completely different world. People were looking at us as if we were from Mars.

We went to the bakery. It smelled so good, just like home! But the lady behind the counter said something we didn't understand. Dad tried speaking English, then French, but nothing. The lady didn't understand either. So Dad pointed to the bread with his finger and made a "three" with his hands. The lady smiled and understood! She gave us three loaves.

"You see, Chloé, it's not so complicated!" said Dad, beaming with pride.

But I wasn't reassured. How could you live in a place where nobody understands you?

We went to the market afterwards. Mom was trying to buy some tomatoes, but the vendor was speaking really fast in her language. Mom was fidgeting with her hands, and it made me a little uncomfortable.

Meanwhile, Gaspard and Clément had approached a small dog. There was an old man with the dog. He said something in his language, but since we didn't understand anything, he just smiled and signaled to my brothers that they could pet the dog.

"Yes! We can pet the dog!"

Gaspard and Clément were so happy! They were laughing like crazy, and the man was laughing too. They weren't talking at all, but you could tell they were having a great time together. It was strange, but cool to watch.

Mom finally managed to buy her tomatoes by miming everything. The lady even gave her a nice-smelling herb as a gift. They smiled at each other as if they were old friends.

We sat down on a bench near a fountain to eat. There was lots of life around: children playing football, ladies chatting, gentlemen laughing loudly.

And then, BAM, the ball came straight to my feet! A boy my age...He approached. He said something I didn't understand, but I saw in his eyes that he wanted to get his ball back.

Instead of just giving it to him, I bounced the ball once, twice, with a big smile. The boy immediately understood that I wanted to play! His face lit up and he nodded.

In two seconds, I found myself playing with a whole group of children! We were shouting, laughing, and passing the ball around. We didn't speak the same language, but we understood the rules of the game. When I scored a goal between two sacks, all the children applauded and gave a thumbs up!

It was so cool! Mom and Dad were watching me from afar with big smiles. Gaspard and Clément came to play too. The other children changed the game so my little brothers could play even though they're still small.

"Look at them," I heard Mom say to Dad. "They're adorable. They manage to communicate without speaking."

I played for at least an hour. It was great! We even invented new rules together, just with gestures and smiles!

When I returned to my parents, I was all red and very hot, but I was super happy.

"So, you learned their language?" Dad asked, laughing.

"No, but we didn't need to!" I replied.

And then I understood something important. Really important.

Evening arrived. We ate in the camper van and talked about our day.

"At first I was scared," I confessed. "I thought we'd be all alone and wouldn't be able to talk to anyone."

"And what do you think now?" asked Mom.

"Now I believe we can understand each other in other ways. With smiles, gestures, when we look into each other's eyes. We don't always need words."

"That's exactly it, my dear," said Dad. "Words are nice, but they're not the most important thing. Sometimes, a smile is worth much more than a thousand words."

The twins were already asleep, they were exhausted. I was in my bed, looking out the window at the village lights.

I was thinking about those children I had played with. I didn't know their names, they didn't know mine. We didn't speak the same language but we had shared something wonderful: the pleasure of playing together, of being friends right away, just like that, without asking any questions.

"Mommy?" I called softly.

"Yes, my darling?"

"I think I figured something out today."

"What is it?"

"True language isn't just words. It's also smiles, laughter, when you're kind. It's... what's the word again... universal!"

Mom came and sat on my bed and stroked my hair. "You're right, my dear. You've discovered one of the most beautiful secrets of travel. We can go anywhere in the world, meet thousands of different people, but deep down we're all the same. We all want to be understood, to be loved, to share good times. And that doesn't depend on what language we speak."

"Is that why Gaspard and Clément made friends even though they can barely speak?" I asked.

"Exactly! They communicate with their hearts, not just with words."

Dad turned off the lights, leaving only the small nightlight. Outside, voices could still be heard, music in the distance, children laughing.

That night I fell asleep thinking that I hadI understood something super important. The world is big, there are lots of different languages, lots of different countries, but everywhere we go, we will always find this universal language: that of humans who are kind, who share, who help each other.

And tomorrow, when we hit the road again, I won't be afraid anymore. Because now I know that no matter where we go, we'll always find a way to connect with others. We don't need to speak the same language for that. Just a smile and an open heart.

The camper van was sleeping peacefully in the village square. Inside, our family had just learned one of the most beautiful lessons of travel: that deep down we all speak the same language – the language of the heart.

And that's truly magnificent when you think about it!