I feel like I’ve fallen back in time. I’m here, alone in Cannes – just like December, 2007. Only this time, there’s a ring on my left ring finger.
When I think that we our travels will reach the three month mark this coming week. it feels bizarre. It seems like so much longer. A week and a day ago, we were flying out of Istanbul. A week before that, we were leaving Patmos. Patmos seems so long ago and so far away now. How has it only been three months?
Until last week, I spent every single day for two and a half months with my wife. Many days we were together all day – 24 hours. And we’ve done so well. We had so much fun. We became used to each other’s presence and ways. We’ve developed the way we travel and the way we work together out in the world. It’s fantastic.
So, to be here in Cannes – one of my all-time favorite places – without Emily is very odd. It feels like there’s always something missing. It’s like the right recipe missing a key ingredient. Somehow, Cannes has lost some of its vibrancy and color without Emily here to share it with me.
Naturally, my life is a near shambles and I can barely function without her far superior organizational skills that I don’t know how I ever lived without….
What I find is that all the old ways and tricks I ever had are still there. I consider myself pretty competent at travel. I know Cannes in particular. I’m here in part to speak the language and exercise my skills. I’m not bored. I have things I do all day. I work, walk, talk, explore, remember, figure out things…. it’s just like three years ago.
Only instead of having one more week until I fly back to Seattle and my job, I have one more week until my wife and I rendez-vous (which apparently you can’t conjugate into the “we” or “nous” form for anyone who may ever need that information. I tried it and it created nothing but serious confusion) in Istanbul. How strange is that?
Even stranger, for the first time in my life, the unimaginable has occurred – I am looking forward to leaving France. I mean, I’m not running out the door unable to function….but I’m really looking forward to being back together in Istanbul.
The positive side of being alone in Cannes has been that I can speak French all I want without worrying about excluding Emily. If she was here, we would talk and people would treat us like American tourists (which would be accurate) and the experience would be in one way more meaningful and in another way totally different to me.
Under these circumstances, I can have seven minute chats with the charcuterie lady who can then teach me that I shouldn’t use the old fashioned way to say wife, because it sounds like I’m saying a very similar word for husband and then everyone will think I’m married to a guy. In turn, I wouldn’t have been able to tell her that I thought you could use it and did so at the barber’s earlier in the day – and then watched her laugh herself silly. None of that would have been possible if Emily had been here…. And what a shame that would have been.
Despite that, I think often how sad it is that it’s not likely we’ll be able to get to southern France again anytime soon and how much I would like to be able to share this favorite place with Emily.
Autumn has set into Cannes. It’s not a pronounced autumn. Much like Southern California – it means very enjoyable daytime temperatures with cool evenings and sweaters going on and off depending on the time of day. I like to walk along and watch the sunset in the cooling air as it shines its beautiful orange-pink glow over the beaches and marinas. How sad it is not to be holding Emily’s hand and looking at it all with her.
Meanwhile, back in Los Angeles, Emily has been nothing but busy. Birthday parties, time with nieces and family in general, her work, a few friend visits and a Target run for miscellaneous supplies. Her time in Los Angeles is very full and I venture to say she’s getting what she wanted from it.
Another very different aspect to this time period is that we are both in the most first-world place we’ll be for many months. While Greece certainly is among the first world countries – it’s lower first-world. I had forgotten how easy it is to by mouthwash in the large size until I came to Cannes. They had four brands in the economy size – and I didn’t have to go to the one and only store that carries mouthwash like I did in Patmos – the first pharmacy down the block did just fine.
There’s something very nice and comforting about being in a first tier, first world country for a bit. The bed’s a little nicer – okay, a lot nicer and the shower….oh, the shower…. I want to take my shower from my hotel room with me to Nepal. Speaking of which, you can drink tap water in France. It’s perfectly fine to order a carafe of water instead of bottled. We couldn’t do that in Patmos because of the limited local water supply and the fact that water is stored in cisterns.
So, Emily and I sit separately but simultaneously at the edge of a quick and swift spiral from first world to second (Turkey) to Third (Nepal, India, Thailand, Bali). We each get to enjoy our little comforts – only apart, and for me alone. I think we won’t have a first world break again until Singapore where I will again drink tap water just because I can.
For the next week, I will miss my wife, relish the last bastion of first world in the most cultured of first world spots, talk to everyone who will carry on a French conversation with me, walk around looking at sunsets, catch another Cannes movie or two and try to not refer to my wife as a man. Oh, and I might go back to that barber to clarify things….
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