"We love to slow down and France requires us to do so. In France, we find what we are missing." -- Marcia DeSanctis

 Marcia DeSanctis is an award-winning writer and frequent contributor to Travel & Leisure. She used to be a news producer for all three major TV networks and speaks five languages. She has a masters in International Relations and has authored a book "100 Places in France Every Woman Should Go." In short, she knows her shit.

I am one of those who gets up in the middle of the night for an hour or two, then returns to bed. At least most nights. It's a balancing act -- if I am up too early I go back to bed but if I get up too late it's pointless because I will then sleep too late so I just stay up. This morning was the latter, getting up at 4:30 so might as well just sit here in the dark and fiddle with the phone or whatever. At least here, 4:30am is 6:30am Central and 7:30am Eastern so things are happening. It's a change from the EU, where my 8am was 11pm in the US and zzzzzz. 

Anyway....

We have been in here Victoria for exactly one month and, as mentioned earlier, it has been an ideal transition point for our return to the US. We will dip a toe into the US early next month with a brief ferry/train excursion over to WA to visit my younger son and the grandkids plus some friends. It'll be a gentle change, given Washington's progressive attitude and similar climate. Plus it's familiar territory, given that I lived there for four years. The pandemic took a toll on the WA ferry system, which used to run from here to Anacortes. But it no longer runs, so it's up to Vancouver on a ferry then down to WA on Amtrak. What was 90 minutes is now about four hours. But the first thing we learned on this venture is to be "flessible," as a Cuban sailing friend used to say. Joo gots to.

We're glad to be back to some familiar grocery items. We can actually make tacos and burritos with the same Old El Paso and Herdez products. But they're literally across the aisle from those awful Heinz canned beans the British pair with literally everything. I swear those folks would cover their lover in those beans to lick down their belly. But mostly, our trip to the grocery here is pretty much a trip to Kroger except for a few things. Not that they're US products -- like the Lay's potato chips are made with Canadian potatoes (as the French ones were with French produce). Things are just, well, Canadian. And excellent.

....but my early morning, in the dark thinking has me sad -- not because we're in a bad place (we love it here) or even because we're facing an eventual return to a US that is too often a reptile exhibit these days.

This isn't a political post. I promise.

I've always said the best way to get to know someplace is to watch it wake up in the morning. I've always been an early riser and that has usually meant going out the door and getting into a car and going someplace to do/see/get something. But I am now horribly spoiled and ruined for that because I am now accustomed to going out the door and it's all there. Without a car. It's literally outside the door. At like 6am I had three or four choices for baguettes and croissants and by 7am the markets and boucheries are opening. While their hours could (sometimes frustratingly in the French way) vary, there was nearly always a backup or two. 

Here, as in the US, such things require a car or at least a half-mile walk and nothing is open until 7:30am and, with only one exception around here, it's a Kroger-style "bakery" with frozen products put into an oven for 20 minutes.

....so such was my thinking in the dark early this morning. I spent a year anticipating my early mornings to go out and watch a place wake up and smell the breads and talk in broken French or German with the shop owners. Even in England, with the Scouse accent. It was available. In its own British way. With them damn beans.

Going forward, I'll just have to duplicate what I can on my own when we get back to the US. I can get French T55 flour. I've taken the croissant class in Paris. I can get sea salt, the paddles and the right cream to make the butter. 

....but I'm just gonna have to do without it for awhile, goddammit. The early mornings alone are enough to lure me back to France as often as possible. But, being honest, there is also the lure of the tremendous Texas music I heard on the radio a few nights ago. My native Texas might be an intellectual and political wasteland anymore but its music is damn sure good.

I am looking for the good things to come and being as much of an optimist as I can. There is a lot to antici.....pate. But anymore I'll always be even more restless than before because I know there's something better.

It'll be An Adjustment.