intuition lead me to the metro
the metro lead me to a square where,
after a quick couch surfing meet up
over mozzarella, tomato, and basil
i carried myself and my packs to meet my new host
who kind of blew my mind.
(i must stress how absolutely safe,
utterly amazing and
couch surfing is.)
in four days
i wandered around (definite) tourist locations
reveled on top of cliffs hanging over grand views
ate nutella, nutella, and more nutella
listened to live punk/metal/hardcore music
ate warm baguettes with avocado and tomatoes
did yoga on seaside rocks with my most spectacular host (who took me to said spectacular seaside)
and thought deeply about what it means to be alone
and what it is to enjoy your own company without the company of others
most importantly though:
i ate the best tiramisu i’ve ever, ever at the end of a dinner shared with my host, a bottle of wine, endless chit chit, and midnight strolls home without jackets.
nice (minus the rocks pretending to be sand on beaches) is more than nice. although the residents i connected with assured me of nice’s pitfalls, i still cannot shake the positive memories.
admittedly, it was not easy leaving. but lyon called my name, so i beckoned.
another tale, for another time.