C’est comme ca.
In two-weeks I’ll be back in Vancouver.
Kevin & I won’t be able to actually go home because our home is rented out. But we’ll stay with some friends, and about 33 hours after that, I’ll be on a (5:45 a.m. ?? – Is that right??) train with a bunch of screaming stupid women. We’ll be on our way to Portland, Oregon where we will start our 24th Annual Stupid Bike Trip.
It is around this time…usually two weeks before we leave on these things, that the emails start to show up. Planning excitement builds, last minute ideas and information are flung through the cybersphere and land on my laptop, here, here in the tiny village of Beauvoisin where I shake my head at how our world works; that I can be on the Other side of the World, sharing the building excitement about our next trip, that will take place Over There. Crazy and fabulous stuff.
Now.
In other, but related, news. It might be noted that I took the above picture of the watermelon at the market in Arles. I did not purchase the healthy hunk of watermelon. No, I was too busy stuffing myself with another hunk of baguette dripping with olive oil, drinking rose wine at lunch, red wine at dinner, and ordering the complete menu at every restaurant so that I could get not only the appetizer and the main dinner, but the dessert…mais oui! (Have I mentioned the recent appetizer of creme brule smothered in foie gras?)
And.
I have ridden the five-speed bicycle on the flat terrain around our little village, hmmm, let’s see, approximately five times. No, let’s say seven; mostly to go to the nearby bakery to buy more of those damned flaky croissants that are so, so far removed from those green smoothies I used to drink at home in Vancouver. WTH?
Here’s what I know. We’ve been here a long time, long enough that it started to take on that ‘always’ feeling, but suddenly it feels like it’s going to run out too fast.
Have we done everything? Not likely. Have we done enough? I think so.
Am I physcially fit enough to go on a bike trip? Well…
The French have a saying around here. It goes like this, “C’est comme ca.” You could roughly interpret that to mean, “It is what it is”, or, “That’s just the way things are,” or, “So, that’s it.”
C’est comme ca.
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Have you tried “le melon des Charente”. It is not very big. The flesh is orange colour with seeds at the centre, it is juicy and sweet. If you cut one in half and scoop the seeds out, you can pour port into the centre. People have it either as an hors-d’oeuvre or a dessert.
FABULOUS watermelon photo, Colleen!
Thanks Jana. Makes me wish I had bought some!