I’ve been a Bad Blogger. We’ve missed two desktop wallpapers on this blog so far, but it’s May 2nd, and I haven’t forgotten, and I’ve been photoshopping like crazy in the last hour to get this out to say sorry, I’m terrible.
Let me try to give you a quick overview of my life since March, and the rhythm of my days these days. On March 4th I became so homeless like you wouldn’t believe. Our lease on our Parisian apartment ran out, and I vacated to take shelter on my friend’s couch in her mini dollhouse-esque studio flat. Thus began my month of living out of suitcases, which I thought might be fun, but really, I’m not so sure anymore. I went to Italy with my trusty backpack and a few girls from school on March 9th, the morning after my final exam at Le Cordon Bleu. We lugged our bags around Torino, Cinque Terre, and Rome. I found Torino to be a charming little place that was not too touristy, and thus perfect for exploring. We cottoned on to the €1 espressos served at the bakeries and cafés around town, and the slightly more expensive €1.50 triple-scoop-gelati at the gelaterias…and feasted accordingly.
In Cinque Terre we insisted on lying on the pebbly beaches (or just rock faces, whatever) in our bathing suits, despite the fact that it was barely above 20 degrees Celsius. It was a much needed couple of days of relaxing in the sunshine when we could, and trying to eat as much fresh seafood as possible. However, Cinque Terre being a much more touristy place, we also found our euros depleting rather quickly there.
Rome took us by surprise with its griminess, but once we walked into the presence of the ancient, ancient, ancient sights, it was all worth it. It is a splendid historical city that’s not just flaunting some man-made iron tower from the last couple of centuries – respect, man! It wasn’t my first time there, but I certainly hope it won’t be my last, either!
So back to Paris, I continued living on a couch. Then I moved from Paris to London, onto another couch…this time at my ex-colleague’s flat in London. There I stayed for a week before taking a suitcase, a knife/pastry toolkit, and a bag of baking ingredients onto a train headed for the Isle of Wight. We stayed with Alex’s grandma for a long weekend, celebrating her 80th birthday. I sweated and fussed and stressed in Alex’s aunt and uncle’s kitchen for two days straight before the birthday party, as 5(!) cakes baked slowly in the tiny gas oven. At least being at Grandma’s place, I was offered a lovely real bed, and the chance to use her jacuzzi bathtub. Ahhhhhh, the simple luxuries of life.
I left the Isle of Wight, and left behind over 1.5kg of delicious French butter and cheese that I meant to casually bring back to Canada in my luggage to share with friends and family. UGH. After a stressful month of constantly being on the move, that little incident nearly brought me to tears. And then things just kept on going downhill. I realized there was so much involved in my spousal visa application to settle in the UK that I decided to delay the submission until I got home to Vancouver. I sat on my glasses when I meant to wear them on the plane ride home. I noticed two giant tears in my spring coat, my only coat I was bringing back to Canada with me, when I was at the airport waiting to board my plane.
When the flight attendant announced “This plane is on its way home to Canada” and I was settled into my seat struggling with my brand new blister-pack headphones, I almost burst into tears of happiness. (It took me at least ten minutes to open the packaging, and I had to use a plastic knife that the flight attendant kindly provided. Just in case you were wondering.)
I had a brief visit in Toronto, still living out of a suitcase at my sister’s, but at least sleeping on my old bed that I love. Then finally, I made it home to Vancouver. Since then I’ve spent a good chunk of time working on my visa application, then sorting out my belongings for shipping, and of course lounging around in my pajamas. Today the shipping company came and swooped in for an hour to pack up and take away all 30 boxes of our belongings, and I feel a great weight lifted off my shoulders. (Slightly – ah screw it, very – nervous about our Pottery Barn oversized picture frame that didn’t fit in any box. I’m just imagining receiving a bunch of broken wood pieces and glass shards in London.)
Now, it’s just a waiting game for my visa application to be decision’d (not a word, I know), and I’ll be off! In the mean time, I’ll try to get cracking on this blog a bit more. Thanks for staying with me!