Get Drunk
Our next scouting trip and my mother's favorite poem
I was hoping not to be here on election day, but Jason is doing voter protection (and kudos to him!), so I’ll be somewhere swigging wine and trying to keep my shit together. It still boggles the mind that the orange menace is running again, but at least now we have hope and momentum. Fingers and toes crossed for a Harris/Walz landslide. Soon after, we head back to France for our next scouting trip with stops in Paris, Bordeaux, Lyon, and Dijon. It may be ambitious to hop around to all those places, but we’ve got to make some decisions! Now, if only I could master the art of the carry-on, but as Karen Karbo likes to say, “Yeah, no. Not happening.”
I have high hopes for Bordeaux, which we loved last time we were there (more on that here, here, and here). It ticks most of the boxes on our list: Cosmopolitan and charming, easy access to good healthcare, within a few hours of Paris by TGV, filled with loads of restaurants and cafes, and near water (it’s on the Garonne River and not too far from charming seaside spots like Cap Ferret and Arcachon).
We’re staying in the same charming apartment as last time in the city center, a few blocks from the river. It’s in a classic Haussmanian building on a tiny cobblestone street you can barely drive down. It’s comforting to know the neighborhood and, most importantly, where the best fromageries and boulangeries are. In any event, expect lots more on-the-ground content soon!
It’s been less than a year since we embarked on this journey. I’m impatient and anxious, constantly torn between desperately wanting change and fear of the unknown. I worry that time is running out, especially when I think about my mom, who was diagnosed with a fatal illness when she was my age (55). She is my motivation, the angel on my shoulder telling me to live as fully as possible and to push fear aside, to “get drunk on wine, virtue, poetry, whatever.” Mom died on October 9, 2009. I can’t believe it’s been nearly 15 years. In her memory, here is one of her favorite poems:
Get Drunk
By Charles Baudelaire
Always be drunk.
That's it!
The great imperative!
In order not to feel
Time's horrid fardel
bruise your shoulders,
grinding you into the earth,
Get drunk and stay that way.
On what?
On wine, poetry, virtue, whatever.
But get drunk.
And if you sometimes happen to wake up
on the porches of a palace,
in the green grass of a ditch,
in the dismal loneliness of your own room,
your drunkenness gone or disappearing,
ask the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock,
ask everything that flees,
everything that groans
or rolls
or sings,
everything that speaks,
ask what time it is;
and the wind,
the wave,
the star,
the bird,
the clock
will answer you:
"Time to get drunk!
Don't be martyred slaves of Time,
Get drunk!
Stay drunk!
On wine, virtue, poetry, whatever!"
Hi Sacha
I'm late to the game here - but first, sorry about your mom.
I hope your scouting trip works, but I can't help thinking that maybe the thing to do is just jump - take a chance and give any one of the cities you plan to visit a try. I say this only since I have spent too many years thinking about moving to France and wondering what the perfect city/town would be. I have read every single memoir of " I quit my life and moved to ....", and while some of the moves didn't work out, and some resulting in moving around after the first landing pad, ultimately, the story becomes about getting settled in and finding a community. I think I mentioned to you before that I have made over 20 trips to France over more than 30 years, and after each and everyone, thought "could I live there?", but never really had the guts to make the move. It wasn't so much about not fining the perfect place, as not having the confidence or family support to make the move. And now I fear it is too late.
I suspect that the reality is all the cities you mention have positives and negatives, all are well-connected to other parts of France and all can support you. For what it's worth, I just came back from France (with pneumonia), where we had 18/21 days of rain. Paris is overrun with tourists, especially young women who seem to have one goal in mind - to take instagrammable photos of themselves in or in front of buildings that I'm willing to guess they know absolutely nothing about. Lyon seemed like a mini Paris to me and was well-loved by friends who spent 5 years there, and Dijon is much smaller but surrounded by jaw-droopingly beautiful countryside. Bordeaux I know least of all, having been there only twice, briefly, but there has been a tremendous amount spent on civic services - parks, streetcars, etc. and it has a huge pedestrian street downtown. I love pedestrian streets.
But as I said, maybe the really point is just to make the leap.
I wish you well with the scouting trip and hope it is fruitful.
I can't believe it's been 15 years. You remind us how vibrant she was 💗