It wasn’t the most glamorous time of the year nor the most glamorous trip, but it was far more relaxing and rewarding than I had expected.

It was just regular French life. Turns out I don’t mind it, after all. This is our curse. Each one of us is born on a different continent—Feng in Asia, Mark in North America and me in Europe—so finding a place where we’d all be happy is almost impossible.

I can’t pretend the weather was lovely. It rained, occasionally a lot. The French are dressed for the winter but by Canadian standards, it was still “warm” in Nantes, with daytime temperatures in the mid-teens.

I can’t pretend I did anything particularly exciting either other than crossing items off my list. I picked up Mark’s French ID card and mine in Angers. I got my COVID booster and I went for a couple of routine checkups (it would be nice if I could see healthcare professionals easily in Canada…). I got a haircut. I spent time in the long-term care facility in the wonderful world of 90+ years old with dementia. I went to the cemetery. I worked as usual. I cooked many recipes featuring fresh fish, still a very affordable “luxury” around here. I went to the museum and took countless walks along the river. I went to the beach and I spent three days in Paris with my siblings.

I watched the city getting ready for Christmas, with lovely window displays and colourful lights everywhere. The Christmas market will open on Monday. I won’t be here for it, it’s time for me to fly to Canada.

And then what?

We’ll see…