Although I arrived in Paris, there was to be a lot more to my trip this time. I was on a mission. I’d never made time to see my birthplace, since my parents had when I was 6. I lived there until age 2. My parents were Americans living abroad.

I was born in Olivet, in the Loire Valley, which begins about an hour south of Paris. It is outside of Orléans. On the way you see large windmills, which produce electric energy, in the fields, which produce sugar.

Crossing the Loire River into Orléans, you notice the spires of the great cathedral, where kings were once coronated.

In the town square is the well-known statue of Joan of Arc, who was from Orléans.

Crossing the bridge into Olivet you notice the landscape change. In France, towns are rated by 1 - 4 flowers. Olivet is a 4 flower town. You’ll see a yellow sign with the rating as you enter each town.

My house is located down the river from the bridge, which you can see in the distance on this Loire tributary.  I had the house number, but had not been here since I was 6 years old.

Certainly this was going to be easy. I had the house number, #53. Although my parents have since gone to Elysian Fields, my older sister provided me with the number and a description of the location.

The flower clock was still at the end of our block, as she described.

Walking down the street, we noticed there was no longer a number #53. Just a quiet street with the sound of barking dogs off in the distance. But my intrepid guide had an idea. She rang bells and spoke to residents who would answer the door.

I could see the back yards from the bridge, but which house front was it? I’d only remembered a home movie of the back yard on the water. Residents said the town had changed the house numbers to metric, and some houses and been changed or demolished. Things looked grim. The town hall had closed for the day.

The next day my guide took me to the town hall, a gorgeous building from the Napoleonic era. That’s me in front.

That’s my very patient guide Stéphanie standing on the town hall grounds in the garden. Neither of us had any idea where this was going!

Inside the adjacent Urbanism building the staff was very helpful, one person looked over the plot maps, and another researched a file of previous owners. Records had been lost, but after a while we finally hit pay dirt by locating the name of the previous owner. #53 had changed to #373, and we were given the new owner’s name!

Inside the adjacent Urbanism building the staff was very helpful, one person looked over the plot maps, and another researched a file of previous owners. Records had been lost, but after a while we finally hit pay dirt by locating the name of the previous owner. #53 had changed to #373, and we were given the new owner’s name!

The property was still there intact, the back yard gracing the river bank. The very friendly owner was leaving for the airport in 5 minutes, we were just in time.

A château was still visible across the river. I took lots of photos, and the owner promised on my next visit, I could see the interior. For the moment, I enjoyed walking on ground I hadn’t since I was age 2.