I found paradise

- Essentials (clothes, shoes, passports, tickets, cash, etc)
- Hand wipes (no, honestly, these are ridiculously handy for everything from sticky hands to no access to a shower/bath)
- Water
- Pen and paper
- Nail clippers
- Lots of socks
- Plastic bags
- Music
- Deodorant

The toughest things about travelling:

- You meet so many amazing people, but most of them you will never see again. It's exhausting putting in the effort to get to know each and every single person. But the worst is meeting someone and knowing that if you had more time you'd become really great friends.
- One of the hardest questions to answer was asked by a little boy whose family I stayed with for a while. "Do you love us?"
- Getting sick in a foreign place.

Best bits about travelling:

- Sitting on a bus or train, setting off for somewhere completely new and having no idea what to expect.
- I get to see the most amazing places. Honestly, each and every time I move I'm sad to leave, but as soon as I'm in the new spot, I love it. Everywhere seems to be special in its own way.
- I get to meet the most amazing people and keep some of them in my life (hopefully forever).
- I get exposed to so many new ideas and opinions, while my own get challenged, and it's absolutely fascinating.
- I get to choose where I want to go, what I want to do, and when I want to do it.
- Everything is exciting, even the smallest of things.
- Calling home (friends, family, kitten).

For the past three weeks, I have been absolutely awful at updating. I don't really know why. Maybe it's because I've had some stability during that time? Anyway. I have been staying in the most amazing place imaginable (and, yes, I know I said that about numerous places in Ireland and other countries, but each time I say it, I really do mean it!).

Saint Justin. A tiny village of six houses, situated on a hill in the middle of the rolling French countryside. Curling along the horizon, serving as the breakfast, lunch and dinner view, is the Pyrenees mountain range. The nearest town is Marciac, a town renowned for it's jazz.

Wisteria now symbolises France in my mind as it grows along the rafters of the patio.

How on earth did I end up in this paradise? Well, a site called WorkAway is the answer. In exchange for bed and board, I work 25 hours a week. Let me put it this way: I work from 8 until one, get a delicious breakfast, a mouthwatering lunch and a delectable supper, I get wine, I get a comfortable bedroom with its own bathroom and shower, I get afternoons and weekends off, I get to stay in the most beautiful part of the world and experience its culture. We even got the chance to go up the mountains!

No one needs to tell me how fortunate I am, honestly.

Oh, don't get me wrong, the work has sometimes been tough. Clearing ivy (damn that ivy) from walls, getting showered by bugs as you snip branches from below and try to balance on ladders that sag in the middle; painstakingly raking your fingers through hard soil to find straggling roots of couch grass (a demonic weed); sanding stairs until the dust nearly suffocates everyone around you; and so much more.

But, with music and good company, even the work hasn't been bad.

I've thoroughly enjoyed it.

But, moving onwards, with a minor blip thanks to an unforeseen cold, and I am leaving tomorrow, heading for San Sebastian.

How on earth is Spain going to compete with this haven?

written by  Brigid Jelsma on May 8, 2011 from Marciac, France
from the travel blog: Walk a little further to another plan
tagged France
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