To take Paris by surprise on a misty winter morning when the tourists are still munching their croissants at the hotel buffets and the salesmen just opening their stalls by the river is a rare bliss. To sit upstairs Shakespeare and Company surrounded by stories and a humming cat sleeping by my side or walking by the river with a cup of coffee warming my hands as the streets above start to fill with voices that soon grow into the usual hustle. To find a piece of gold and let it go. To listen to the sounds of an accordion echoing from the alleyways. Just to be, there, a part of it.
This is my country. It’s grey, it’s cold, it’s waiting. Waiting for the snow to bury the stripped landscape in a pure white blanket. The fields like a lover’s stubble, trees like needles pointed at the heavy sky. Everything is quiet. And then: Footsteps, cracking branches and a few carefully selected words.
When two friends balancing on the edge of a burnout need to reconnect with what really matters, a walk by the sea comes naturally into the picture. The clouds were hanging low in the late October sky and small drops of rain wrapped us in a wet embrace as we walked along the rising tide.
A Halloween dinner plan turned into a proper costume party! Thanks to Hannah and Lee for being the perfect hosts and for turning their beautiful apartment into the house of horror. When I got home I had the feeling that tomorrow was going to be a Bad-hair-day…