Lately, I’ve had the nagging feeling that I’m going nowhere—work is slow or non-existent, Canada and France are both stuck politically, and the news from everywhere is driving me crazy.

I’m stressed out. I’m worried. I’m not thinking straight, and it’s keeping me awake at night.

I’m craving good news—anything, really. Just a nice surprise for a change, something that doesn’t make me sigh and think, “Shit… what am I going to do?”

If I’m going nowhere, I might as well go somewhere—literally.

Fortunately, I’m in France, the weather’s still mild, and local trains are cheap.

If nothing else is moving in my life, at least I am.

Niort, Blink and You’ll Miss It

I was long overdue for a trip to Niort, home of Mamie’s oldest sister. At 97, she’s not exactly going to hitchhike to Nantes.

The problem is, there’s no train to Niort—it’s a small city in the middle of nowhere.

I ended up taking a FlixBus in the morning—it stopped in Niort for about two seconds on its way to Montpellier and didn’t offer a return that evening, since by then it was already hundreds of kilometers away in sunny southern France.

So I booked a ticket with another company, BlaBlaCar. Technically, it’s a long-distance ride-sharing service, but they also run buses.

Picture me at the end of the day in dark, rainy, bleak Niort, waiting on the side of the road for my bus.

“Are you going to Nantes?” I asked the driver when a bus—the bus?—finally stopped.

“¿Qué? ¡Ven rápido!”

It turned out the bus had come straight from Barcelona, final destination: Rennes. Basically, the drug highway of Europe. I’m willing to bet some cops were waiting in Rennes to search all the passengers.

The bus sped up—way too fast for a two-lane road in the rain. I buckled up and stared out the window into the darkness.

A Spanish-speaking driver eating up the miles, an almost empty bus, and time standing still until we reached our destination—it felt like an overnight trip somewhere in South America.

Except Nantes isn’t that far from Niort. Two hours later, I found civilization again. Phew.

Angers, Where Everything Feels a Little Calmer

Going to Angers is much easier than going to Niort—just hop on any Paris-bound train and, ta-da, an hour later you’re standing in front of a castle ten times the size of the cute one in Nantes.

I always find Angers quiet and relaxing. No stunning water reflections like last year, but still beautiful fall colours.

Le Mans, Time Travel on Cobbled Streets

Finally, I spent a very cloudy but warm day in Le Mans, halfway between Nantes and Paris. I love wandering through the old quarter—cobbled streets, half-timbered houses, and Roman walls straight out of a medieval storybook.

I didn’t solve any of my problems, but at least I feel a bit more inspired.