Montreux, Switzerland - near the border of France - was beautiful, idyllic, and full of the best cheese, chocolate, and pocket knives money could buy. So naturally I hated it. To be fair I was 11, missing friends and family, and was struggling to pick up the language after being dropped into a normal, French-speaking school. Switzerland is one of those places that I appreciate more in retrospect. The ski slopes were only an hour away by train, and everything was clean, ordered, and on-time. After a year there I was near fluent in French but hadn't been able to learn anything else - no maths, science, or otherwise. This made re-assimilation back into Australian school and culture quite a challenge. Try explaining to a 5th grade teacher that you can't understand fractions, but that you can conjugate French verbs in your sleep.