Yesterday a miracle happened, something that I never thought would actually come to pass.
At 5pm on May 25th, 2014 our ferry pulled away from the dock in Cherbourg and our five month adventure in France was over.
And we’re back for the second installment of the series 24 Hours in Barcelona!
“España 140km”, the sign said as we drove down the highway from our temporary home in Pezenas. 140km?! That’s nothing, I thought.
We are currently calling a small town outside of Narbonne home. The village of Moussan has a population of just over 1,000 souls and you are most likely to be woken by the squawking of chickens or the rumble of tractors
Before I left Ottawa and moved to Liverpool I had never really thought much about wind. It isn’t really a factor in Ottawa, a landlocked city hundreds of miles from both oceans and the Great Lakes. Every so often the city is besieged by a storm that brings with it winds, sometimes small tornadoes as …
It was with heavy hearts that we packed up the car and closed the front door for the final time in Pézenas. We were only there for 60 days but it had quickly begun to feel like home.
When you travel as much as we do, you learn to temper your expectations of places. Guidebooks and websites invariably embellish, waxing poetic about all of the good stuff while failing to mention any of the negatives.
There are few places that I like better than a market, and if anywhere does a market well, it’s France. Truth be told, a large part of our decision to spend our first two months in France in the small town of Pezenas was due to what we had heard about the town’s Saturday market.
The beauty of the French landscape is well-known. With the glitter turquoise waters of the Mediterranean Sea, the towering peaks of the Pyrénées and the Alps, picture-postcard villages that look as though they have been left untouched by the hands of time,