I wrote this while sitting in the sun in Valbonne, at a café by the square. It was a little warm, but a soft cool breeze was passing by every now and then giving me relief. My feet were wet and my shoes were dirty, but I didn’t let it bother me. The sun dried it all up in the end anyway. I’d taken a little coffee after doing a walk I always used to do when I lived in Valbonne. It reminded me of the reasons why I travel… and why it can be so tempting sometimes to get caught up in lists of things to do or places to see.
The path that I took… it’s not known by everyone. I found it by accident, because a couple years ago I needed a space to be alone. Even though living in a little village in France can seem ideal, it actually got very confining after a while. Personal space is kind of limited, in my view, and there is not much space to hear your own thoughts. It’s not a big, busy city like Taipei, but I feels as if your life is being affected by other people all the time… especially during tourist season. I grew up on the land in Australia, where if you got lost then you could cry for help but no one would hear you. So given this context, you can understand why I think Valbonne was a little crowded.
I grew up with this kind of solitude, silence and space, and I often still need this to go back to… especially during difficult moments of my life. When I lived in Valbonne years ago, it was certainly a difficult time for me. A difficult time in a beautiful place.
So I found this little spot just south west of the village. Over there, a little bridge crosses the river Brague. It may not come as a surprise, but the water also helps me to think more clearly… and since the sea was so far away by foot, I went often to the river. I know many paths along this river, but I thought that there may be a quiet way by the bridge were few hikers go. I walked past the sand pit, where people play boules in the summer, and found a little path of flat grass leading down to the waters edge. I stood and watched the river flowing… it was moving pretty fast and it seemed a little deep to cross without the aid of a rocky path. I would have to get my feet wet… but I didn’t fancy that.
I slowly swept my gaze down the stream. I noticed every rock below the surface of the crystal clear water and then I found it. By the edge of the bridge, the river bended slightly and sloped down. At this point, the water was shallow, and there were a few rocks sticking up – enough to allow me to cross. I put my foot on the first stone, to make sure it was steady, and then I hopped over. Before long, I was on the other side, walking an old and overgrown path… I had to be a little careful because it was covered by old grass, tree roots and mud.
But the air there was fresh, and so was the earth underneath my feet. Rarely touched by shoes. I took my eyes off the ground for a moment, and as I looked up… I swear to you I saw a dozen little black wings flutter up with me. Butterflies, dragonflies, birds… flying across the river, upwards and sometimes down for a refreshing dip. I felt at home and a calmness washed over me. It was a magical moment that I’ll never forget, and a place that I always love to go back to.
In fact, I don’t often bother to go to the touristy spots in this town… I just go to the places that mean a lot to me. Where little but important things happened. To the gate of my old apartment, the window from which I used to get fresh air in the morning, the street where I once saw bees being collected from someone’s balcony. And of course, my secret spot by the river. I went back there today, and it’s all been cleared. Not so secret, I guess, but there was still no one there and I still enjoyed it. However, I didn’t quite make it over the rocky path this time.
Hence, why my feet got wet. But isn’t that what travelling is about? We cannot run away from our problems… and we cannot solve them by laying on the beach for a period of time that never seems to last long enough. But we can get our feet a little wet in a different context. Travelling is not a departure from normal life, it’s an extension of it. We can decide to have our own authentic experience, by travelling the little way… rather than always feeling the need to chase what looks good online.
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