KELLY'S GONE AGAIN
…AND HERE'S WHERE I'M AT.Archive for France
#51. Paris: My To-Do, -See, -Eat, -Buy List
Well, I’ve finally said goodbye to Paris and, oui, I do miss it a little. I’ll relive it here by sharing some memories with you in the form of a list, 20-deep of random things to do, see, taste, hear and buy, should you find yourself in the vicinity. For one reason or another, they helped make my summer pretty splendid. Take from it what you like and, of course, bon voyage!
#48. Paris: Home Away From Home
Honestly, I’ve had a tough time thinking of what to write about Paris. It’s not that there isn’t overwhelming inspiration around, or that I haven’t enjoyed lots of memorable moments, but I’ve actually been living here. I have a physical address. Paris is somehow sexier when you’re Stateside, and seems pretty normal when you’ve set up shop. That said, I do have a few first impressions on the place that I call home while away from home.
Remember when I was spending my initial time in France along the Cote d’Azur, enjoying the picturesque ease of life near the sea? The scenery, perfectly placid and blissful, kinda’ hard to leave – I mean, you’ve seen the pictures.
But the instant I lugged my heavy suitcases down the steps of the Paris subway system… Read the rest of this entry »
#47. Cote d’Azur: Open Your Eyes
It’s time to move on, but not before looking back. Over the last 2 years, during which time my obsession with the South of France took root for no apparent reason, I’ve been curious to figure out what I would discover here. Certainly the answers will continue to reveal themselves to me after I’m gone, as is the case with most things in life, but some things are evident already.
I’ve learned a lot in a relatively short period of time, about my love for yoga teaching and improved travel skills, for instance, but the bigger answer might just be something I told a friend of mine once. Read the rest of this entry »
#46. Cote d’Azur: The Sleepers (and Where I’ve Been Sleeping)
Amidst all of these travels to and from, you might wonder “well, where from exactly?” No worries, I’m certainly not packing up and moving on every couple of days; given that I had planned on staying in maybe 3 places throughout the entire summer, I did not bring the proper luggage for that.
No, instead I holed myself up in lovely little place named Carnoles, settled roughly in between Monaco and Menton, on the east part of the coast near the French-Italian border. I wish I could take credit for how I ended up here, say that I asked the right questions, did a lot of comparison shopping, etc., but I didn’t. I found this place on a last minute, impulsive whim, my requirements being only (i) low cost, and (ii) central location for day tripping. Not in my wildest dreams could I have predicted its perfection.
#44. Menton: The Secret Garden
Dear Menton,
‘Just a quick note to express my appreciation for the present. Considering we’re sort of strangers, I was taken aback by you reading my cards so well and knowing just what I needed, but my genuine gratitude far outweighs my surprise.
When I quietly stumbled into your garden recently – into the neat array of layered leaves, highly-worshiped citrus trees and divine statues – all of the sudden, all I could think was this: that I wasn’t really so tired. My feet didn’t actually hurt that much. I could probably wait a little longer for dinner. I could definitely push aside all of my recent troubles for a while and make room for this.
Anyway, thanks. It is one of my most brilliant memories yet.
Kelly
#43. Cote d’Azur: The Usual Suspects, Part III
Note to Self:
“Self is no longer in New York City. Self is not riding subway.
Self doesn’t know where it’s going. Remove iPod and pay attention already.”
The plan was this: catch 6:54 a.m. train to Nice, depart Nice at 7:32, arrive in St. Raphael at 8:22, hop on the one St. Raphael morning ferry at 9:30, and be selecting leather sandals by 11 at St. Tropez’s famous Place de Lices market (only on Tuesdays and Saturdays, mind you), before it closed at 1 p.m. But you know what happened. You know I missed my train stop at St. Raphael.
#42. Cote d’Azur: The Usual Suspects, Part II
After visiting Cannes, my hopes were not terribly high. It’s not that I was jaded or struggling to stay optimistic, nothing that serious. I was just a bit…disengaged. A little “sure, whatever.” Overall, neutral.
And then, just like that, I fell into Nice. I don’t know why; I wasn’t on the make. I expected it to be just like the others. But on Avenue de Jean Medicin, walking past buzzing cafes and trendy boutiques and, well, so much life, I felt something. It’s hard not to. Nice has an energy, an easy, poignant, honest, simple sense to it. It isn’t looking for recognition, it isn’t competing for customers, it just is.
#41. Cote d’Azur: The Usual Suspects, Part I
I had such high hopes for Cannes. Having been mesmerized by its reputation, I arrived already intoxicated with possibility. I believed in this city, eagerly anticipated it, and knew I’d fall in love the moment I stepped off of the train on Day 1. So on Day 2, I rationalized, “okay, lukewarm start, no big deal, doesn’t mean sparks won’t fly today.” But, let’s be honest: I usually know on the first date. And I’ve never not known by the second date. There just wasn’t chemistry.
#40. Cote d’Azur: Halfway Check In
On the last big trip, I did a reflection-based summary about midway in. Believe it or not, we’re already there. So before I go on to give you my thoughts on the French Riviera, here’s where I am, figuratively speaking…
#39. Les Adrets: Life in the South of France So Far
First, to all of you who have been wondering where and how I’ve been the last couple of weeks, thanks for your concern — definitely feeling the love. Second, the short answer: the South of France, and it’s fantastic.
This is true, for me, especially in the morning. I enjoy nothing more than sitting in a straw-backed chair at some random cafe, watching the days begin for so many locals: parents holding hands of school children on the way to/from class, town markets packaging up olives and meats and cheeses and vegetables for customers, and friends sitting down for a coffee and croissant. The best thing, though, has got to be the baguette.
#33. New York: Coming Home and Going Again
Week: 11
Countries: 7
Cities: 35
Charitable Causes: 10
Injuries: 7
New Friends: Tons
Photos: 800+
Planes, Trains, Buses: 53
Lost Bags/Delayed Flights: 0
Passport Pages Left: 3
Last week around this time, I was getting ready for bed in my small, sparse, hot hotel room in Pedang Pedang. Paper-thin, pastel curtains, gentle, oscillating fan, gecko song. Hard mattress, cold shower. The 126th backpack search for toothpaste. Alarm setting for seaside sunrise. I fell asleep to the deep, animated voices of my neighbors – chilled-out surfer boys, all bare feet and Bintang beer – sitting on our shared balcony and storytelling of “epic swells.” So good. So recent.
