Montpellier, France, we’re getting there.
Safe to say it definitely wasn’t love at first sight, but generally for me it never is (another thing I’ve come to know about myself on my little adventure here).
Two months in and Saturday morning after wondering to the fresh food market I found myself sitting in a cafe, sipping on my coffee and reading my book in the sun.
I sat and talked to an English couple just “over for the weekend” *gosh*. The husband said although they had just arrived he was ready to live here and how much I must love living in this beautiful town. They asked all the typical questions: Where are you from? Melbourne! Oh wow I loved Melbourne, much more then Sydney (fistpump) How long have you been here/how long are you here? What are you studying? Did you do a language course? Was it hard to get in?
Well actually I have a British Passport, so it’s just like you, I’m free to come and go as I like, and I don’t even have to go home if I don’t want too…
And for French…well I went to a bilingual primary school, so I’ve been studying it on and off for 14 years now, it was just the local primary school – and I didn’t even think twice about it.
Another thing I’ve learnt; I’m luckier then I think, and I’d like it if I could appreciate that.
It seems to take being told how great things are or must be, or even in some cases how terrible they are, for me to realize what’s in front of me. These amazing gifts that have just been dropped into my lap, I now feel it is my duty to make best use of.
Despite my meandering motivation to resolve the laundry situation resulting in a horrendously Malvernite outfit (nike’s, 2xu’s, lululemon top and a puffer vest); sitting, reading on a Saturday morning, 2 months into a four month exchange, the sun shining and my bags full of fresh fruit and veg, I felt the most relaxed I have felt in a long time.
Montpellier, you’re alright.