There's No Place Like London

One of the obvious perks of living in France, and yet another reason for which I decided to spend a year here, is your proximity to everywhere else in Europe. Being from such a vast and homogeneous continent as North America has given me a real appreciation for the accessibility and diversity of Europe and Asia. I knew this year would abound with opportunities to discover new places and visit my old travel buddies in their home countries. But one unexpected turn of events was that my childhood friend, J.B. would decide to move to London for a two month study-break.

Though I had planned to spend my first two months exclusively with Juju and the 4 Ls (for the sake of integration) I couldn't miss the chance to see my old friend. So I caught the Chunnel-going Eurostar train last Friday to London where I met Jen for a little taste of England and a lot of memories from home. As we covered some of the most important London sights, including Leicester Square for an inspiring and half-priced (thanks to TKTS) showing of "Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat," lunch at Borough Market, a 1920s-themed fancy ball and a visit to the life-size blue whale hanging from the ceiling of the Natural History Museum, we talked about everything from the loves of our lives to the nursery school days when we first met. Since we've both been traveling a lot the last few years, it had been too long since we'd had more than a rushed couple of hours to catch up over tea in Montreal, and this was definitely our first time meeting abroad. By the time we hugged goodbye yesterday morning, I felt like I'd rediscovered a long-lost sister, and I spent most of the train ride wishing I could have stayed just a few more days.

I'm finding that as we get older and head down various paths to new places in life, it sometimes feels easier to let our connections with the past slip away. And yet the farther I go from home, the more I realize the importance of maintaining the friendships I started years ago. Even though Jen is engaged and working on her Ph.D. while I flail about avoiding commitments to the future, she's still one of the few people that knows me at my core; someone with whom I can jump straight into a discussion about an event when I was 10 years old without needing a crash course in the history of my life. Even as I get closer with Juju and the 4 Ls, my trip to London this weekend was as refreshing as if I'd gone home to Montreal yet twice as exciting for having discovered a vibrant and exciting new city.

As they say in London slang - thanks again Old Fruit for such a wonderful weekend!

I'm Poor but I'm Free

Juju and L-Daddy work hard at their jobs. As a result they take annual vacations, have got a nice house, loads of cars and an in ground pool to play in during the summer. Part of my job is to keep the house organized, especially to clean up the mess the kids make in the few hours they spend here between coming home from school and going to bed.

Most people would look at all this stuff and aspire to own something like it someday. But while I've definitely benefited from the nice things that surround me here, I've been questioning lately whether all the sacrifices we make for this kind of ownership are worth it. Despite the general Western motto of "work hard, play harder," a lot of people seem to work hard, then work harder.

As a traveler I've met plenty of people on "playcations" (extended breaks from work and life in general). They're a pretty happy, optimistic subset of people who've dropped out of the rat-race to be this and own that. Of course, you don't have to be a traveler to have that attitude, but I've met a lot of non-travelers who are trapped in unsatisfactory jobs or life situations but can't see any way out.

They hate their job but can't leave it. Want change but won't move. I guess you can't blame them for being afraid of the unknown - on my side, I'm afraid of falling into the daily grind they can't escape from.

I haven't saved a lot of money in my last few years of travel around the world. I can't afford to buy a house or stay in fancy hotels, buy expensive souvenirs from the places I visit or eat in fancy restaurants. But what I've sacrificed in material gain, at least I can say I've made up for in perspective. For the wealthiest countries I've visited contain some of the least happy and most stressed out people; and the poorest countries have shown me just the opposite. Of course, I'm not talking about abject poverty - that's just no fun, no matter where you live - but I think there might be happiness to be gained from doing without all this comfortable "stuff" we covet so much.

Mid-Life Retirement

I'm finding it really hard to find an appropriate beginning to my blog, since I'm a bit new in the daily blogosphere. I've written my share of Travel Blogs but those always revolve around stories and this one is just about my daily life in rural France.

Maybe that's a good starting point for this...What exactly am I doing in rural France?

Now, there are two kinds of answers I can give you. The practical one is that I'm taking a year-long sabbatical with some family friends who are graciously letting me live with them in exchange for a little help keeping the house and kids in order while the parents work their busy jobs. Hence this blog being called "Zee (The with a little French accent) Au Pair (French for nanny)."

On a transcendental level I'm rationalizing this year as a retreat from concerns of everyday city life; a kind of early (and temporary) retirement without a pension plan or the onset of arthritis. Instead of waiting until I'm old, I'm taking this year to indulge in leisure activities and reflection all while experiencing life in a new country. Ugh, that last sentence makes me sound like some sort of holistic fruitcake; basically, I'm just indulging my urge to do nothing, while making it look like something.