l'horizon bordelais

“I think I’ll go for a walk, because it’s a nice day for it.   Tune out the talk, take a breath and start again.   And where I’ll go I don’t know but the path will show”- Lissie Last month I sang these words over and over as I walked from the French border to the coast of Spain. For over 30 days, my daily routine required little more than faithfully following yellow arrows, sign posts, tiled shells, and sometimes even arrangements of pebbles. Each sign pointing toward Santiago de Compostela. The trail is called the Camino Frances and is part of a greater web that pulls from every corner of Europe—one of the legs in France even runs past my street in Bordeaux—and leads to Santiago de Compostela in northwestern Spain. The Camino is a pilgrimage that first began in the 11 th century when the remains of St. James were discovered and moved to the cathedral in Santiago.  Early Christians believed that healing and miracles could come from contact with the rem...

April has brought along some much needed sunshine and green blossoms around Bordeaux.   When I came home from vacation on Friday, I felt like the city had broken out of its cocoon and started to stretch under long spring evenings and newly found heat.   People have started coming out of every crevice of the city, lounging along the river in sundresses and shorts, thirsty for the warmth of the sun—I feel thoroughly at home. But this month has also marked the end of teaching and because of that, I’ve spent some good time reflecting.   Thinking back to September when I first stood at the front of a classroom, I am reminded of how much there is to learn in this life.   My students and my job have pulled and stretched me in ways I wouldn’t have imagined. Those first few weeks, I remember trying to calm the shake of my hands at the front of the room, constantly dropping my chalk and stumbling over chairs, walls and desks.   In my nervousness, everything so...

" See how nature—trees, flowers, grass—grows in silence; see the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence... We need silence to be able to touch souls." -Mother Teresa At the end of February, my parents flew to Europe to explore Dublin and see Bordeaux.   I relished being with them and loved having the chance to reach out for a quick squeeze any time I wanted. During our time in Bordeaux, I was reminded of how much I love this city and how moving here has allowed me to create some long-anticipated changes in my life. Like many others who are frustrated with the craziness of the 21st century, I've been craving a quieter life where things are done simply but well. I have this dream of a life where waste is minimized, food and plants surround a home, reading is a daily habit, and meals are something to invest in.   I want to live a life that isn’t too rushed to enjoy cooking a feast and savoring it with family and friends.   I want to live a li...

At the train station last week, I noticed a sign (written only in English) advising consumers to beware of the dangers of consuming Galette des Rois—a dangerous almond pastry.  I can only imagine the surprise of a tourist who unknowingly cracked a tooth on a porcelain charm while innocently enjoying their cake. But to the French, the soft clink of teeth meeting pottery while eating galette would come as no surprise.  In fact, for them it would be a reason to celebrate.  The tradition of hiding trinkets in cake dates back to Roman times, but more recently the French have used it to celebrate Epiphany. The first Sunday of each new year, Epiphany marks the arrival of the Wise Men to greet baby Jesus and his family.  It celebrates the story of men who acted against a powerful and threatening ruler to follow a bright star to Bethlehem.  All of this was done in a grand act of faith spurred by a mere dream that revealed the birth of the Messiah. I ca...

To celebrate the end of my first semester of teaching, I set off with eight of my colleagues to explore the westernmost coast of Europe: Lisbon, Portugal. If I had been able to anticipate the beauty that awaited us, the colors of the city and sky, and the joy of the Portugese, I would've thought twice about buying a return ticket. For years, I’ve dreamed of traveling to Central and South America where vivid colors are spread on every building, and I often wondered why I continue to return to Europe where the style of architecture, although admittedly striking and full of history, is grandiose, proper and less my style. I had no idea that Portugal carried such a vibrant style, and it amazed me that something so historically and eccentrically colorful exists in Europe. When we left Bordeaux, we left behind a rainy gray spell, and I was so grateful to be greeted by the clearest blue sky in Lisbon.  The windows of the somewhat dilapidated buildings reflected the exact col...

Five years ago, when my family spent two weeks in Paris, I remember looking around at the majesty of Notre Dame and the intricacies of the Chateau de Versailles and feeling so numb to the beauty of it all.  It was a wonderful trip fully of selfies with Dad in berets, ice cream along the Seine, crêpes in the park, and laugh until you cry moments at La Tour Eiffel.  Despite the silly times we had, I just didn't understand why the world had dubbed Paris the "City of Love”.  Perhaps it was a combination of my ignorance of the place’s history, slight culture shock, and the stiflingly dirty air.  All I know is that when we left from Charles de Gaulle, I thought I would be content to never return to the city. My recent move to France, however, paired with the newly established TGV (speed train) direct line from Bordeaux to Paris, made it so convenient that I knew it wouldn't be long before I returned.  When searching for the cheapest way to get to Amsterdam...