i've been loving you too long
France is the first place I felt truly beautiful during my teenage years, the only place I could really let my hair down and live the way I'd always wanted to. It is the lover you can spend all Sunday in bed with, get recklessly drunk on wine with, indulge all of your senses with and never feel guilty for it.
And so I have been spending more time in bed than usual. I have been enjoying the sights and sounds of markets in towns nearby, the winter sunshine on my face, and the joie de vivre of those around me.
We spent yesterday in Albi, a small city of pink brick houses, a thick brown river that runs heartily under bridges, and a cathedral that stretches into the heavens. We window shopped, ate a slow lunch, and when the waiter asked me what I would like for dessert I responded "Une sieste," and he nodded his head, "Moi aussi." If there's anywhere where food and rest are truly appreciated, it's the South of France.
Today we visited a couple of the Christmas markets in small towns nearby. The first town had mostly pottery stands, and most of the vendors were busy enjoying a feast of meat, rice and wine in the middle of the square. The next town was more festive, with saucisson stands, spice stands, table covers, Christmas decorations and lovely loaves of pain d'epices.
This part of the world is a feast for the senses, and I'm elated to be back. Here in the country side the landscape is sensual, the buildings scream of history, and people's faces speak of lives well lived.
A home away from home, France is a love I have known for many years and will always feel comfortable with.