It’s hard to believe that it was only one year ago that I was in France. It feels like decades. And yet, it’s true, it

Travel, photography, introspection
It’s hard to believe that it was only one year ago that I was in France. It feels like decades. And yet, it’s true, it
It is time to leave. Today, we will pack our belongings back into our cars and return to our homes. We will enjoy this last
Rain is coming down sideways and I can see gusts of it flying across the dunes. It beats against the windows of the living room.
Somehow I wound up being one of the last to bed and one of the first to rise. There is coffee, but no bacon, and
Heading to the coast today for what my mom has started calling the “annual retreat.” It’s an apt descriptor. The whole wineaux friend group goes.
I am writing this at 7:30 am. I am at a bakery, with a croissant and a double espresso in front of me, along with
Today I traveled from Chamonix to Paris. This is my final destination. After today there are only two days left before I head home. This
I went up to Aiguille du Midi. I joked that it was the pinnacle of this whole adventure, but there was truth behind the jest.
Getting from Lyon to Chamonix by train was no laughing matter, and today’s anxiety attacks proved it. My excitement about getting up into the Alps
I am in Lyon and it is gorgeous. And I’m visiting my old friend, the Rhône, once again. She is just as blue here as
I keep wishing I lived closer to family. I caught myself noticing for sale signs on houses and paying attention when we passed condo complexes.
Éze Village is about 1400 feet above sea level, and the bus ride was a crazy 15 minute journey up steep hills with intense switchbacks. Next to the road was a drop-off down a cliff and the bus driver took each turn at full speed.
I kept turning away from the water and gazing towards the hills surrounding Nice. The lush greenery beckoned to me.
I heard her say, “Well, I mean, how am I supposed to know what I want? Everything is in French!” She wanted a beer, but was annoyed she couldn’t find cerveza anywhere on the menu…
As I walked the short distance from the train station to the hostel I was struck by the same feelings of unease I experienced in Carcassonne. The streets were empty except for straggling groups of unfriendly looking men. In Carcassonne, the men merely leered. Here, they catcalled and made clicking noises like one might when trying to lure an animal closer.