Je t'aime

The wind has changed and I long to move somewhere again.  I am a gypsy at heart; a nomad that can never really settle in one place for long.  I need change, to see the world even though it it's smaller than it once was in the days of old where travel was really an adventure.  The unpredictability of life is what makes me feel alive.

Where would I go?  Belize?  Costa Rica?  Australia?  Thailand?  No. Argentina? Martinique? Maybe later.  Despite the fact that an exotic location would be exciting, I want to got in the other direction...to Europe.  I have family in England.  My mother's English genes course through my veins beckoning me home all the time.  But still, it's not enough.  It's not really home.  Truthfully, the urge to leave hits me all the time because I haven't found the place I want to be...meant to be.  Maybe it's because I haven't found my home yet.  It's that feeling that is missing and has been missing my entire life.  Is there a place that I've been to that evokes the feeling of contentment?  One. The country that most inspires me with its people, culture, and beauty is France.

Ahh...Paris
(Photo Source:  The Brooklyn Nomad)

I went to Paris the first time when I was 13 years old.  The hustle of the city did not distract me from observing the breathtaking beauty of it's architecture and the thrill of discovering quaint cafes, shops and more on side streets only traveled by true Parisians.  Even at 13, I didn't complain of foot burn as I walked miles and miles taking in everything I could see in that short week.  I cried when I left.

I returned years later at 25 and still felt the absolute thrill when I set foot on French soil again.  I stayed in Montmarte, in the 18th arrondissement, in a small hotel right next a restaurant that served the best oysters.  I still enjoyed the feeling of not knowing where I would end up as I walked Rue after Rue.  The people I encountered were quite friendly to me, even with my elementary French skills.  Maybe they could tell I was sincere in my endeavor.  Numerous artists dotted the streets and I longed to be 18 again, more carefree and not afraid of devoting myself to the arts, capturing the images before me with deft strokes.  The talent- the fearlessness of true artists are an inspiration for us all that are afraid to live.

And then the grandest vision of all:  the Sacré Coeur.

(Photo Source:  Wikipedia)

The hours I spent sitting there writing everything down that I laid my eyes on:  the mother, smothering her angelic baby with loving kisses, the old man, sitting alone, sadly gazing up at the basilica holding a yellow rose, and the lovers, arms intertwined, caressing, rubbing places I would be afraid to do in public, but not them.  Heavy petting aside in the open public, it's nice to be in love...and to be in love in Paris. There is so much more, so many things to see and take in.  It is unending and the richness of this place seeps into your soul.

I miss Montmarte.  Most of all, I miss that small cafe, whose name I've unfortunately forgotten, but serves the best Cafe Au Lait I ever had...not to mention the scrumptious, melt-in-your mouth, better than sex (okay, almost better) desserts that cause my mouth to water, even now. 

Street in Montmarte
(Photo Source:  www.photoparis.com)

After all that, I still wanted to satisfy my desire to see more of France and ventured on a train to the city of Lourdes at the foothills of the Pyrenees.  I walked the cobble streets that Bernadette walked two centuries ago. I engaged in imaginary conversations with her.  To have experienced what she did at such a young age.  Remarkable, really.  Even if you don't believe, I do.  I took in the peace and security of the grotto, and stood in awe Rosary Square, and prayed in reverence at the Rosary Basilica.  Even in a small french town, the Byzantine architecture of the basilica is magnificent.

(Photo Source:  Famous Wonders)

I would miss that small little town.  A piece of my heart still resides there.

Someday, I hope to return again.  To Lourdes.  To Paris.  To France.  Someday, I hope to come back to a place I consider a home.