When I was about eight or nine, we were in Rouen, at the square where Jeanne d'Arc was burned at the stake. It was a hot day, so we went into a small cafe to get something to drink. My mother ordered Coca Cola for my sister and me. The woman in the cafe was shocked. She said they didn't serve "la Coca Cola" there, "absolument pas!" My mother was surprised, and asked her why. The woman replied, "Non non non, et jamais pour les enfants! C'est la poison!". My mother laughed, but it was true, it had cocaine in it.
I never hear about Joan of Arc without thinking about that day. As a matter of fact, I feel a strong connection with her. I have had many dreams, especially when I was younger, that I was there, in that square, when she died.