I should be used to this by now. In a way, I suppose I am. I know what and how much to pack. I know what tickets I need, the times to book for. I know where to go and who to talk to. I know how to do everything in such a way that I will cause myself the lowest amount of discomfort. But as it always is when I travel between Calgary and Winchester, I have this feeling of leaving one home to go to another. I don’t want to leave, but I also don’t want to stay.
Today I arrived in Paris, France, fresh off the Eurostar.
My friend Sarah and I arrived at the station just before 3pm and spent a bit too much time wandering around in the vague direction of our hostel. We hoped we’d come across it by accident and did 180ºs when it felt like we were too far off track. It worked.