I’m sitting on the FlixBus in Caen. My cumbersome luggage is loaded under my butt. I feel a complexity of emotions.
I’m excited to see what happens next. I’ve been to Paris, so that part doesn’t feel anything but familiar. I’m not sure if that’s what I mean exactly but it’s close. After Paris, then the fun/fear/excitement/unknown begins.
Truthfully, I’m intimidated by that unknown. More so than when I first arrived. Maybe because it was a rather spontaneous choice to change everything I’d planned at the last minute. Perhaps it’s because the summation of my experience has been a working trip.
I don’t have to work. I don’t have obligations. I’m doing this for me. It feels selfish. It feels uncomfortable. It feels unsafe. But it’s also exhilarating because it’s not something I normally would do. It’s adventure and exploration. It’s new.
I’ll let you know what happens as I leave Caen and head into the rest of my life.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
The other day when I went to the grocery, I picked up some delicious things. My plan was to cook for myself, but I kept putting it off. This morning, I got ambitious.
I took out the spinach and put it in the colander and poured boiling water over it. I cut up potatoes into tiny little pieces. I chopped up an onion and put it in the pan with what was sure to be a gastronomic pleasure. I popped in some vegan butter, and tried to turn on the stove.
I was pushing buttons like it was a typewriter, and nothing happened. Nothing. I tried turning it off and turning it on again, but to no avail. I tried for a good 15 minutes to figure out how to work the stove, but no.
The stove was smarter than I and I ended up going to my favorite place for breakfast. They make better coffee than I do anyway.
After over a two hour delay and having arrived at the stop unwittingly four hours in advance, I’m on my way to Caen, Normandie, France.
It kind of looks like a very green version of Arkansas that I’ve driven through a few times.
There is a bathroom on the bus but it is full and can’t be used. The wi-fi works but doesn’t connect to the internet. 🙄
If you asked me if I’ve been upset at the ridiculous amount of delays so far on this trip, I’d have to be honest and tell you no. Each step of the way, I’ve found reasons to be joyful, comfortable in my uncertainty.
Lost? No problem. How can I solve this issue? Google maps has been a lifesaver. Language barrier? No sweat. Pull out Google translate. Uncertain of what to do for activities? Airbnb has excellent suggestions. Not sure what’s nearby to eat? UberEats was surprisingly easy to use in Paris.
Although I have questioned my navigation skills, I’m still arriving exactly when I need to be somewhere. I’m okay. This is an extraordinary experience. I’m just as glad for the bumpy bits as well as the smooth sailing.
This was the sight I got to look at for several hours while waiting for the 4:55pm bus which didn’t show up until 7:15pm.This was looking up the street where I waited with good company.After the bus made it to Caen, I waited for the local tram to collect me and my newfound friend.
Call me foolish, or call me an idiot, but the woman on the left is my new friend Marie France. I saw her ID, no kidding. She and I, along with several other people waited for the same bus to arrive. Each time we’d see a bus, we’d collectively get excited then collectively disappointed.
We talked about what we do for a living and what our passions are, which as you can well guess, death and dying came up. It was a great discussion. Marie bought us all water and refused to accept anything in return. When the bus arrived, we sat in our assigned seats which was sadly not near each other.
However, when we got off the bus in Caen, she asked how I was going to get where I was going. I explained about the tram and the walk from the stop to where I’m staying. She pish-poshed me and told me nonsense. She would drive me home.
Without even thinking about it, I accepted. The picture I took of her is after I told her to give me her beautiful. She laughed out loud and got bashful. She works as a greeter at the hospital in the second picture, but there is rumor they’re going to eliminate the position. She’s not worried though. She said she’ll find something else in the office environment.
Her gray car had suicide doors! She hustled about clearing the front seat for me to ride since my luggage and hers took up the back seat. I practically live in my car too. I reassured her, she was not alone.
At that moment, I thought about human trafficking and freaking A if I didn’t scare myself a bit with that, but it was all okay. She not only made sure I got where I was going and that I was able to get in. The Farside had a cartoon:
This has been me since I got here.
I got the keys, no problem. I got the code right, no problem. The door has a handle which looks like a pull, so that is what I kept doing. Marie, on the other hand, pushed the door open while I, you guessed it, FACEPALM.
She made sure I got into the first floor (second floor in America) apartment. We hugged and she left to go to her own well deserved bed.
I’m sorry I forgot to include this in the original post. It was an invaluable time with a very special person I feel fortunate to have met. She was impressive with her speaking of several languages as natural as a native born. Wherever you are, Bless you for being you, Marie France.
Complications happened that delayed my plans. Mechanical issues then a replacement plane followed by a lightning strike that took out communications on the new plane.
I got to stay in a nice hotel with a delicious breakfast and even better company. I ate with a young Parisian woman named Hannah who is a journalist returning to her hometown.
Life is a patchwork of moments — laughter, solitude, everyday joys, and quiet aches. Through scribbled stories, I explore travels both far and inward, from sunrise over unfamiliar streets to the comfort of home. This is life as I see it, captured in ink and memory. Stick around; let's wander together.
Mare Martell 