Monday, May 31, 2010

France, you stole a piece of my heart

When I tell people why I miss France I never know what to say. I've thought a little about it and here's what I've come up with...

I miss the people. From what I've experienced, most Americans don't really understand this and so I always have to clarify and say I miss the people I worked with...the guys who fabricated mass amounts of fish everyday and sweat over dishes produced perfect for a screaming French chef.

I miss the sites. The countryside is beautiful and taking the train from Paris to the surrounding towns (in my case, Rennes) is spectacular. Even when it rained I enjoyed it.
The last night I spent in Paris my mom and I trekked across the city to go to our favorite Italian restaurant. On the way back to our rented flat I kept turning around starring at the Eiffel Tower and thinking of how much I would miss it. I wiped tears off my face the whole way.

I miss the metro and walking. It's a weird sort of joy to not have a car.

I miss being the observer. Watching people, most of the time having no understanding of what they spoke, gathering enough from their body language and manner of speaking.

Waking up to emails that were written in the daylight of California but during my most vital sleeping hours. It was like opening a present when I awoke.

Cobblestone roads. Cheap, delicious Champagne. Football games. Boots. My flat.

I think I will have to return.

**the picture above is from

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