Today Gabe is wearing a blue sweatshirt, a white t-shirt, red shorts, and brown flip flops.
And today is also my last day in my little French village. At times this trip felt endlessly long — I was here for three weeks, after all — but now that it’s nearly over, it seems like it went by in a flash. In just a few hours, I’ll be boarding a train for Paris, spending a few hours strolling around and eating crepes, and then I’ll be saddling up for the epic journey back to the United States.
I’m going to miss a lot: the smell of the thick, country air. The long, meandering dinners and the many smelly cheeses available for sampling. The pasture full of sheep who, over the last three weeks, have come not only to not be afraid of me but to almost almost almost eat out of my hand when I feed them leftover lettuce and baguette.
But I’m excited to be going home too. I like my house, I like my bed, I like instituting quiet alone time whenever I feel like it. I like having stores around, and the beach, and normal doorknobs, and the million other little things that make being at home so comfortable, even though you’d never notice them before you left.
When I go home, there will be lots of work to do. But it’s work I’m really excited to be doing, and it will be nice to have so much uninterrupted time to take care of business.
I’ll be less rugged when I’m there. Have you noticed how much stone is in all these pictures? I mean, everything here is made out of stone (because everything here was built in like, 1200) — including this wall that made a great venue for view-looking and down-climbing, since it overlooks a huge expanse of land perfect for hiking around in.
But I’m okay with being less rugged. I’ll be a little less rugged in Paris today, and even less rugged in Seattle tomorrow. By the time I get back to my house, this trip will feel weirdly distant and almost like it didn’t happen. But it did happen.
So au revoir, France. It’s been super real.