In France, I resumed what I do best—going places out of curiosity or simply because. It’s easy. There are enough cheap regional trains to take me to cities an hour or two away for a change of scenery.

I like when my scenery changes; I don’t mind going back to familiar places.

Like Angers, halfway between Nantes and Paris, home to the kind of castle books were written about.

True shorts weather, 26°C. None of this “it’s 10°C and I’m wearing shorts” Canadian nonsense.

I spent the day wandering with my camera. Spring in France does that to you. That’s when I noticed posters all over town for an upcoming two-week exhibition featuring Banksy, whose work doesn’t sit quietly inside walls, but appears on them—from Ukraine to New York and beyond.

A week later, I was back in Angers just to learn more about the elusive artist. I didn’t know what to expect. I didn’t know the venue or exactly what would be shown, since street art can’t exactly be framed.

The exhibition was hosted inside the Collégiale Saint-Martin, a Gothic church. The entire city had shown up. No price barrier here—just free admission for everyone. Very Banksy.

I smiled when I stepped in. Hurrah, people still know right from wrong, stay away from toxic political rhetoric, and can decipher social criticism!

The contrast with the saints and the whole Catholic paraphernalia added a perfect touch of irreverence.

I’m telling you, it’s always worth going places.

I walked out with a free Banksy exhibition poster and a little more hope about the world.