Drifting

It is the last day of my vacation and I'd rather spend it with nice people. My absence has a good reason to it - I spent 8 days on the northern coast of France. Beautiful, beautiful place. I made some notes along the way, and I'm here to share them with all of those that don't have any better things to do at the moment. I'll try to give you my view of a few days, spent on reflecting on life and myself, enjoying beautiful landscapes and the music of my mp3-player. I'll share a few photos as well. Today's music: Charlie Winston. Yes, the album Hobo is now in my possession :).

1 August, on my way.
Music: Vanessa da Mata & Ben Harper, Boa Sorte; Ben Harper, Lifeline

My journey has just started but I already feel a sense of calm finding its way into my soul. It might be the tunes of Ben Harper on my player, but I know it's also more than that. Above the clouds, in the midst of a blue sky, it is so much easier to see things for what they are. That might be one of the reasons for which I love flying. To get further away from my every day ways of thinking and closer to myself, to my soul, and maybe to the truth of life. I am still hours away from my destination, in my mind I am already forming dreams of destinations to come. I want to get to the dunes of Brazil. I want to feel the kite lift me up above the waves. Oh, dunes and kite boarding. Dreams that are yet to be fulfilled, but that easily could be just five months away.

I don't want to wait a lifetime, yours or mine. Ben Harper

2 August, Le Hourdel, France
Music: Marcelo D2, Eu tive um sonho



I got to the dunes. Rented a bike, checked the map and head off with my board, the bees wax, food for the day and my camera. Finally I found them! Rising above sea, beautiful and white. Behind the dunes I see them: the kite-boarders. My heart skips a beat. No - I say to it - you are not the heart of a kite-boarder, not just yet. I run up to the highest point of the dune with my board. I feel the wind in my hair and my heart pumps liters of blood into my veins. I step onto the board. Nothing. No movement. I jump onto it. It glides half a meter and the nose digs into the sand. My heart returns to the kite-boarders, so wild, so free. I cannot blame it. But I am just no ready to give up just yet.



Note 3 August:
After some hard work with the board I got it moving a couple of meters at a time. I must say this is not easy.

3 August, Le Crotoy, Fort-Mahon-Plage, France
Music: Jack Johnson, Adrift


Today I learned something about myself - I am a drifter. I drift from place to place - I feel that is my main way of moving. Is that a good thing or a bad one? I'm not sure. I get inspired so easily, by so many things. A change of direction doesn't acquire that much. Today I drifted on a bike. I was planning a trip to Le Crotoy. Then Marquenterre. I had trouble finding the beach of the latter one, which got me drifting. I continued pedaling. Soon I found myself one hour further, with the logic "Find the beach, then go home". I had become a beach-hunter, a woman with a mission, a woman that wouldn't give up. I felt the punishment already in my legs and arms, the sun burning my neck. I kept on. Fort-Mahon-Plage. The sign was a bit of a surprise. I had planned that much before - I would definitely not go as far a Fort-Mahon-Plage. But here I was. And what a beach! That was all worth the hard work! I counted to about 70 km today.

Drifting.



Anyone who knows me also knows that I am a firm believer of faith. I believe we have a starting point as well as an ending point, and some stops we're supposed to make in the middle. Places we're supposed to be in, people we're supposed to meet. In between - any kind of movement in any direction along the beach of life, leaving our own, individual imprint in the sand. Imprints that become the painting of our life. Mine is apparently made by drifting.

4 August, St. Valéry sur Somme, France
Music: Ben Harper, Paris Sunrise


I was up at dawn today, something I don't regret at all. I captured the most beautiful sunrise coloring the bay with a golden shimmer. I am two hours away from Paris, and still I feel Ben H is following me around on this trip along the Picardy coast. Paris Sunrise on my mind.





Today I sit on yet another beach, still sore from yesterday. As I watch the waves roll in over the pebbled beach, the first waves I've seen on this trip, a little friend lands on my arm.



6 August, St. Valéry, France
Music: David Gilmour, This Heaven


Yesterday I had a lot of thoughts on my mind. I guess being physically exhausted opens up the mind a bit wider. I overdid it again, I confess. Guilty as charged. I took a stroll along the channel. To Abbeville and back. After that 30 + km walk I could not bring myself to lift a pencil. The burn in my muscles reminded me of four years ago when I ran my first and since - last - marathon. During my long walk I started thinking about a man, more of a legend that a few years ago lived in my building. He was a walker. Walked day in and day out. Everybody knew him and all had their own story to tell, to add to his status of the legendary walker. All knew about him, but only a few lifted their hand to wave hello as he walked by.
So one day he was on his way out as I entered our building. For the few moments that I had him eye to eye I was blown away. I said hello and he responded with his. His voice as clear as that of a young boy's. His glance gave away the clearness of two ice-blue eyes, and I'll tell you, they were as lucid as running water. For a moment I wondered, who in fact it was that I had encountered. I was glad I did, though, just a short time afterwards he passed away. Leaving me with the feeling of having been let in on a secret.
That same feeling is easy to get when surrounded by beautiful nature, as I am right now. I just saw a seal, watched it turn in the sand, enjoying the morning sun. Today is a day of relax, I promise.














8 August, returning home.
Music: Citizen Cope, My way home