I'm sittting in the Charles de Gaulle airport, leaving France. It almost feels like I haven't been here.
I don't feel at home in France. It feels like I am in “their” country (hence the title of this article). A month and a half ago, I spent two travel-packed weeks in China. April was Italy, where I spent the vast majority of my days waking up, traveling to a new city, lecturing, eating, then sleeping each day. Then repeating that over and over and over. Before that, China, much the same (work, work, work)
It might be that my time in Paris was needed to recover. My six days were spent relaxing. One afternoon I went out and visited my friend Yves, and his friend Alafrez. I almost missed that meeting because I slept in.
I planned to go see the Eiffel Tower on Sunday, but rain discouraged me. I saw it, the Mona Lisa, the Arc de Triomphe (and much more) about three decades ago. It felt nicer to stay in the AirBnB in north Paris, rather than venture out into old territory. I did make a daily visit to the McDonalds across the street. Sometimes, familiar food is what a Hobbit needs.
Well, let's see how things progress. Amsterdam is completely new to me. If I stay inside the whole week, then I will have to evaluate if this trip was the wisest choice I have made in recent years.