When I travel, I don’t try to tick off a list of places. In fact, I probably haven’t seen as many countries as many people think, and I don’t really want to. I often go back to the same country, and I love doing this because I get to see different sides of it. The world is so complicated, and if we want to live our lives then we do need to make generalisations… But sometimes, I think we forget that everything exists on a spectrum. Going back to the same place reminds you that everyone moves to a daily rhythm of change, no matter which country you are in.
I am back in France, and for a couple of days I’m in the countryside with some friends. Once again, a different experience to Switzerland, where I was a couple days ago. This morning, I woke up a little later than normal. I sleep below a sky light here, and so I fell asleep looking up at the stars. I woke up to a soft light making the room glow blue, and I was happy to know that I hadn’t woken up too early. Even though I like watching the sunrise, I need a little more sleep sometimes.
I slowly stretched myself into waking, and I heard that sound which makes you know you’re somewhere in France: church bells. My friends live just beside the church, so it’s a strong sound. I always used to love hearing it in the little village of Valbonne, where I used to live. But this morning it was a little different… while the church bells rang, I also heard dogs howling. It was a strange sound for me, but it made me smile. It felt as if animals and humans were somehow connected. I stood up on my bed and reached up to the skylight to open it. A breath of fresh air. The birds were busy calling out to each other, and I smelled the warmth of fireplaces burning. Electricity can be very expensive in these parts, so burning wood is often more efficient… it’s probably my most favourite smell in the world.
Peaking out, I can see the landscape just past the chimney flue and the red, moss covered tiles of the roof… Soft hills, rippling out into the distance covered by a patchwork of fields and forests. Green and grey, the smoke from chimneys billowing out in between. I smell the countryside, the fresh air and the fresh cold water when I have my first drink of the day. There is something refreshing about living in the countryside… and when it’s so quiet like this I imagine that there are people within the same country who are living very differently. In Paris, someone may be rushing to the train station to get to work. On the Riviera, someone may have already been up for hours, preparing their shop for welcoming the tourists of the season. Maybe in the north, someone is taking their morning walk by the sea and feeling the spray of salt on their skin. I think out of all the countries I’ve been to, France is the one I know the most.
It’s the seventh time I’ve been here, and tomorrow I will go where I always go: to the south east coast. I’ve seen that coastline from many different perspectives. Not only in terms of physical direction, but also with different company. The first time I saw it, I was alone. I stood by the sea, lit by the yellow street lights at night in the bay of Cannes… it was quiet at that time because of the pandemic, and I looked out thinking that this same water also touches the shores of Australia. I’ve been taken on dates by the sea, walking out onto the rocky coast while being held safely in someone’s arms. I’ve spent time with friends on the sand… dining at beach restaurants while laughing and drinking until the night ends, or sometimes talking quietly within deep conversations about life until we’re too tired to keep our eyes open. I’ve even been lucky enough to be there with part of my family too… relaxing over dinner with my Mum and brother at an Italian restaurant by the marina. I’ve seen a lot of this coastline, but this coastline has also seen a lot of me. Almost like a good friend.
It makes me wonder… what will become of our friendship when I return soon?
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