Homesick

I am writing this post from the comfort of a hotel bed. Last night was the coldest night we have spent in the bus – although we wrapped ourselves up in two blankets and as many clothes as we could feasibly wear, we didn’t quite manage to beat the cold. So, tonight, here in the south of France, we are in a hotel. And, most importantly, we are warm.

Having spent almost three weeks in the north of Spain, we decided that it was time for a change. We were there mainly for surfing purposes (apparently the waves are very good around Galicia), but the surfing lifestyle is one that requires patience – a virtue that I, sadly, do not possess. It could be days before the conditions are right, and in that time of waiting there is very little to do (having relegated yourself to the middle of nowhere, and that too in the cold).

Heading over to France was a welcome change. And on Sunday the 14^th of October we celebrated what is to us a very special day: on the 14^th of October 2010, Florian proposed to me in the most magical way. For those of you who don’t know the details, it involved a holiday to Brittany and 250 candles laid out in the rocks by the sea in the shape of a heart, forming the words: Meera will you marry me?

For us, France is a very special place. It was in Paris that we first met and fell in love, and it was – three years later – in Brittany that we got engaged. It seems only right that we spend some time discovering this country, and so here we are, chasing the sun through the south of France. The days are sunny and – at times – quite warm. We have been exploring Biarritz, St Jean de Luz, Capbreton and Toulouse. And, most notably, we have eaten the most delicious magret de canard.

But I am, without a doubt, homesick. I’m not sure when it happened, but it did. And now, whatever I do, wherever I look, everything reminds me of what I am missing…

Listening to Bollywood songs while we drive makes me miss my family – the most vibrant bunch of people you could ever meet who dance at every opportunity possible.

Eating pretty much anything that isn’t spicy makes me miss Indian food – there is nothing quite as satisfying as a home-cooked, pure vegetarian, Gujarati meal.

The sight of small children reminds me of my beautiful niece who, by now, has grown into a little person (almost a year old!) and has, I imagine, no memory of me whatsoever.

Seeing groups of friends together makes me think of my wonderful friends who I can’t wait to catch up with over copious amounts of wine and sushi.

It’s time to go home, I feel it. Though it is an odd feeling, given that we are in fact homeless. But, as they say, home is where the heart is. And in two and a half weeks we will, at last, be reunited.