Day 24: One Day, I’ll Return #everydayadventure

Today I listened to “That Kind of Love” and heard these lines:

“I don’t need a chateau in the south of France. I don’t need to live forever. Growing old with you is much better. Just give me that kind of love…”

I smiled at the words “chateau in the south of France.” It may not be something I need, but I sure wouldn’t mind living in one!

While driving through Southern France, I had a really weird, random thought. I imagined the roads we were taking, and the car we were in, and I mentally drew back (google-explore style) and up into the blue sky.

I imagined looking down on France, on Europe, the way it looks in the old maps I found at the Aix market.

Today I walked to meet some friends, and I put in my headphones and just watched everything around me. The birds have been trying to take over the city lately. And every third person seems to be walking a dog. Maybe not that often, but it is more common than not!

After night service, our group crossed paths with the pastor who was walking his dog: a uber-friendly basset hound. I love this dog! His eyes are droopy, but kind, and his ears soft ears seem to almost drag on the ground.

I crouched next to him and started to pet him, which of course, in dog language must mean: kiss me! kiss me! because the basset hound jumped on me. His paws gently climbed up me as his tongue attacked my face and ear.

Owning a dog has been on my wish list since before I was 6 years old. We dog-sat last Christmas for a month (which was one of the best Christmas presents!), but one day, after I’ve appeased my travel bug for a bit, I’m going to live somewhere long enough to own a dog and own my own yard for it.

In case it wasn’t obvious, traveling is a big deal to me. I want to see more and constantly go somewhere new. Now that I’ve lived in France for half a summer, I’m already picking out a list of countries I want to live in.

I don’t just want to visit places, I want to stay there long enough to recognize street corners and homeless people and grocery store cashiers.

Even though traveling is huge for me, the idea of home, of belonging somewhere, is important too. When I was growing up, home was never just one place. It was different houses, different countries, but always the same people–my family.

And now I’m finding little pieces of home in France too. In the wet kisses of a friend’s basset hound. In the daily 2 minute conversations with the friendly Boulangerie cashier.

When I ride the tram around the city, I recognize restaurants and churches, stores and statues. I have memories tied to those places now.

I haven’t been here that long, but I’ve been here long enough to know that for me, Marseille will always be a small piece of home.

I may not need a chateau in the south of France, but I might need another plane ticket one day. . . a ticket to return home to Marseille. 

Because one day, someday, I’ll return.