Right now I’m sitting on dock looking out onto the Mediterranean sea in Cannes, the south of France, Côte d’Azur; listening to a conversation in French and Italian. I envy the Europeans, and I wish I had taken language studies more seriously. Most of the people we meet can speak 2-3 languages, and here we are, Americans spoiled by one language that everyone else knows. Their knowledge of English is so much more extensive compared to our knowledge of Spanish (Kara) and French (moi), even when they say their English is shit. Nevertheless, it’s an awesome feeling when I can have a conversation in French even if I don’t speak correctly/use proper grammar. They get me, and I get them. Isn’t that the beauty of communication?
I’m sitting on a train traveling through the French country side and it’s exactly what I thought it would be. Long dusty roads, everything illuminated because it’s the golden hour. Tall thin trees surrounded by fields and vineyards, sprawling hills. Tiny houses peeping through from the mass of trees. This landscape has remained untouched for decades, and you can tell. For those who live in this region, this is normal — it’s part of their daily commute. As a visitor, this is the kind of stuff you see out of the books and movies. I really appreciate the natural beauty and I’m once again reminded why I started this journey.
France is definitely the country where we felt the most backpacker-y. We bounced around from one beach town to the next, 6 cities in total. We spent the last day on the pebble beaches of Nice, swimming around in the bluest water I’ve ever seen. This is where I felt the most alive, and where I felt like we were really gettin’ it, ya know? Now we’ve gotten the hang of travelling. We now run like a well-oiled machine and work (the blog + project) feels like play. Oh, and baguettes galore. My diet primarily consisted of bread, smoked salmon and vegetables. C’est la vie, yea?