I am seated on the beach with my dear friends. It is August and I will be leaving for the U.S. in a few weeks’ time. Tonight, we have come to a beach that is located in our beloved Côtes-d’Armor department. I gaze our at the vast waters and the clear blue sky. I then look down at the mountains of sand that hold my feet, long buried in the sand. There are two much smaller mounds next to mine, that of my 5 year-old best buddy. He is telling me all of the things that he plans to do this evening, a few of which which include riding his raft, eating some evening snacks, and playing “PUG”. As we will be here a few hours, we decide that we will also have time to build a sand castle.

He decides it’s time for a dip. He and Isabelle go to the water’s edge. I stay back for a few minutes, taking it all in. The sound of the waves crashing against the shore, the fine sand, the sound of children playing, the seagulls flying overhead. My little buddy soon comes out of the water and calls me to join them, which I do a few moments later. It is the first time in a very, very long time that I have bathed in the sea. The chill of the water both surprises and invigorates me. It is the perfect temperature for this very warm day. 

After our swim, my little pal and I make our way to a space on the beach where the sand is just the right texture for making a solid fort. We take our time and create what is probably the most incredible castle in the world. Ok, maybe not, but it was pretty amazing as it was decorated with shells and stones, a feather, a rather large dolmen shaped rock, and various other “trucs”. Unlike other castles on the beach, this one had a long and winding road leading from the chateau to several people’s “homes”. My house, it turns out, is just next door to my little friend’s.  He shows me his home (the home he will share with his amoureuse “M”. He tells me that he plans to marry her soon. They will have two children, he says, maybe more. Boys or girls? I ask. He said, “boys or girls, we can’t know until it happens.”

We hunt for colorful seashells and glass stones, worn and smoothed over time by the sand and water. We use them to decorate the castle towers and then create a treasure trove locked into place securely by a strand of slimy green seaweed. 

Many families take their leave, children in tow, tired after a long day of swimming and running along on the beach. The beach is almost empty now. We enjoy our aperitif and watch the tide move slowly backwards. We talk of the last year and a half and how none of us would have ever imagined the turn of events that took place. “A war, maybe, but not this” my friend Jean-yves says. So true. I recount what an artist on Rue du Jerzual said the day prior, that she felt that we have been living in some bizarre film. “A science fiction film but without an ending” she had said. With the recent fires and incredibly flooding it certainly does seem that way. But for now, tonight, we will be simply be grateful that the weather is beautiful and that we are finally together.

We watch the sun slowly set over the rocks and the last of the paddle boarders make their way back to the shore. Teenagers play games on the beach, vendors begin closing down their ice cream booths after a long and surely busy day. I look down to see my buddy picking the sand and microscopic shells off my legs. Isabelle tells him that I had been worried that he would forget me during the 19 months apart. He looks surprised and says, “Non! Jamis, jamais, jamais.” (Never, never never.) For probably the 5th time in an hour, he melts my heart.

We leave a short while later. During the walk back to the car, my friends and I talk about the evening and how lovely it was. I see now, more than ever, why people born near the sea cannot live far from it. A short 6 minutes’ drive later, my pal is fast asleep. I look at my dear friends who are driving me back to my apartment, and I am filled with deep love and appreciation that I find hard to put into words.

When I get back home, I take my shells out of the bag, give them a good wash, and place them on the terrace. They will take a good, long sunbath over the course of the following week, relieving them somewhat of their “special” odor. I think about how life can be so difficult sometimes and so beautiful at others. Without going into the former here, I can only say that it has always, always been in times of difficulty that I’ve shifted into my gypsy soul gear, where I start planning my next adventure. I think about this quote and know that I’m not alone.

“I’m restless. Things are calling me away. My hair is being pulled by the stars again.”

― Anaïs Nin

In times past, this has meant selling every piece of jewelry and anything that wasn’t nailed to the floor to buy a plane ticket and have some cash leftover for food and lodging. At other times, it has meant picking up a second – or third – job. No matter what it took, I was willing to do it because I knew traveling was – and is – the one thing that completely fills my heart. In the process, I have met phenomenal people along the way. This is because I have stepped out into the unknown and simply just talked to them. It has led to the most amazing adventures and friendships. The only thing left was to take it a step further and make the big move to France as I have wanted to do for decades. But that is another story, and one I will tell now that I have made it. Until then, I hope this snippet of a summer’s evening has filled you with sunshine and happiness.

Thank you, as always, for reading my blog. Please tell me if you enjoy watching the sunset on a beach or if you prefer the sights and sounds of a city. I would love to hear from you.

Amy, from Tales from Brittany