September 22, 2012 Comments Off on Cheers
The sun has finally emerged from behind the clouds. I’ve one last task to complete before I leave my hosts’ chalet for the train station tonight: take the mattresses, blankets, pillows and rugs outdoors to air for an hour or so.
Right now the sub’s a sorry sight. It’s practically empty. Colorful pillows, rugs and linens are spread out on the lawn, hanging over chairs, balconies, or anywhere I could find space. All but one of the skinny mattresses that make up my bed remain. The other is propped up against the side of the sub.
It stormed early this morning. The sound of rain pounding on the roof and sides of the sub woke me up twice.
The rain stopped momentarily, leaving just enough time for me to enjoy one last breakfast outdoors, complete with a mountain view. I made a couple cups of strong coffee on the camper stove, and topped a large hunk of stale baguette with butter and homemade apricot jam.
I don’t leave for Paris until 8:30pm. I wish I could leave right now. I wish I was already gone. I’ve had fun here. I’m extremely grateful for the patience, hospitality and humor my hosts have shown me. There’s a whole lot about this post that I’m going to miss:
–Evenings spent on the terrace with cold beers and music, usually in the form of my hosts’ guitar playing or impromptu DJ sets.
–Tache, the sweetest and most energetic dog I’ve had the privilege of meeting in my travels.
–Hearing my hosts’ youngest son call me “Anna” instead of “Emma.” After a while, I decided to give him a break. He’s five, after all.
–My hosts’ eldest son’s breakdancing.
–Canning and preserving. I made rhubarb jam, plum jam, grape juice, grape jam, and chili oil during my stay here in the Alps. So I’m no longer a “preserving virgin,” as one of my hosts put it so nicely.
–Being mocked for my various Americanisms: “whatever floats your boat,” “brain fart,” “restroom”—yes, even that last one. If you’re British, it’s called a “loo.”
–Telling people I’m living in a converted vintage bus. Also getting to say I’m doing “x” from inside a converted vintage bus. For example, I’m writing this post from inside a converted vintage bus. See?
–Cooking and baking, even if it meant having to cater to young children’s persnickety tastes.
–The walks. The wine. The fresh goat cheese from the farm next door.
Regardless, I think it’s time to move on. I’m eager to see Brittany and to finally meet my new hosts. I think I might be ready for farm work again.
I’d like to extend a hearty “cheers” to my hosts. They deserve one.