When we first arrived in France, I had no idea what to expect – just that I’d wanted to come here for a very long time.
I also knew the six weeks would be gone in a blink… and it has.
There have been challenges, bien sur.
Like trying to communicate with our limited grasp of the language, adjusting to those rich late-night dinners, and finding our way around France with the ever-petulant Sylvia the GPS and those sometimes-dodgy cycling directions…
But the one facing us now, after our quick stopover in Singapore, is much more scary.
Going home and stepping back into… [cue spooky music] …the Stress Zone.
We know the moment our feet get under the desk, our life will be frantic. But does it have to be?
Our quest – which may take superhuman powers – is to hold onto a little of that fabulous French attitude to life.
Like working to live, not the other way around. And taking timeout – because you don’t always have to be open, or available 24/7, or busting your way through the in-tray.
Meanwhile, we have some time to wander the streets of Tournus before our fast train to the airport. Mais oui, the streets are all but deserted. Only the boulangerie and one bar-cafe in the centre ville is open. It’s Monday, after all.
And even if that doesn’t always suit us tourists, it works for the French. And that’s the point, really.
So we’ve popped some of that approach into our bags. Now we’ve just gotta get it through customs…and home.
Serenity, French-style, in Tournus…
Au revoir, France. A bientot.
Flight path 