Check out our latest vlog HERE!

This vlog gives a tour of our house and neighborhood and insight into our life when we here.  Best of all, though, there is some very special footage of a very special toddler milestone at the end!!

Check out the vlog HERE, and enjoy!

I don’t think I’ve brought enough diapers or sleepers in our carry-on. We have a 24-hour journey ahead of us that involves planes, trams, trains and cars. Was this explosive start to the trip a foreshadow of what was to come?

Preparing for the Trip

I was really anxious about flying with Phoenix. In his first months of life, we had barely left the house, and when we had, we had found it more complicated than expected. The mass of stuff we had to lug around on outing, the endless pit-stops for nursing and diaper changes, the car-seat and car-ride-related meltdowns… It was just easier to stay home.

Suffice to say, then, that Bruno and I hadn’t had much practice in the travel-with-baby department.

To counter this, we decided to prepare as best we could for the journey. We imagined the most complicated part – getting from the airport to the train station and into the train with baby and luggage. So, even though we were allowed an extra suitcase and carry-on for Phoenix, we opted to bring only what our four hands could carry. That meant two backpacks as carry-on luggage, two rolling suitcases , and a stroller.

Our luggage for the trip.

At least half our luggage was for Phoenix (think 30 reusable cloth diapers!), and our carry-ons were loaded with four extra sleepers (the easiest clothing to put on in a pinch), toys, books, swaddle blankets, two baby carriers, and 12 disposable diapers for the flight. I was very happy Phoenix is a breastfed baby, as we didn’t need to calculate the amount of formula we’d need for the journey – it was already enough trouble to calculate the amount of diapers and clothing changes (and, as the scenario above illustrates, I underestimated in both cases).

Phoenix had never been in a stroller, and he is the type of baby who needs a bit of time to warm up to something new, we knew we didn’t want his first time in the stroller to be at the airport. When we received it, we wheeled him around my parents’ home, and took him out as soon as he fussed. The next day, we went for a walk outside (I ended up holding him for about half that walk). By the time we left for the airport a few days later, Phoenix had been on 5 walks, had fallen asleep in the stroller once, and looked happy and comfortable inside. Score!

Trying out Phoenix’ new stroller before our trip.

He fell asleep! For Phoenix, that’s big – that means he likes his stroller!

From Canada to France at 3 Months Old

The theme of this section of the trip was boob. Phoenix was so overwhelmed by the noise on the flights and the commotion at the Montreal Airport that, for the entire 7-hour overseas flight, he clung to my breast. The few times I tried passing Phoenix to Bruno so I could rest more comfortably (it was a red-eye) or go to the bathroom, Phoenix cried. We realized he simply needed my reassurance and comfort. I wasn’t comfortable (!) but I was very grateful, again, to be a nursing mama. And at least changing pressure during take off and landing were non-issues for Phoenix!

Near the end of the flight, we were able to place Phoenix in his swaddles on my seat, and Bruno and I took turns walking up and down the aisle while the other sat. We had tried to reserve the bulkhead seats so we could access one of two baby bassinets this flight offered, but another passenger had paid extra to reserve those roomier seats. I was appalled that Air Canada would sell those seats to the highest bidder rather than providing them to parents of infants.

Phoenix, asleep on the airplane.

Phoenix’ first flight, at exactly 3 months old.

Near the end of the flight I gave Phoenix my seat. Too bad we didn’t have the baby bassinet.

From Lyon, we picked up our luggage and took a tram to the train station, where we had to wait a few hours for our train. The train station was even more chaotic than the Montreal airport. There was only one small [paying] bathroom area with no change tables, and there was hardly any seating space to rest or nurse. Luckily, we found a service called S.O.S. Voyageurs run by a few old ladies – they had a change table and allowed us to spend a couple hours in their tiny lounge until our train arrived. Thank goodness, too, because Phoenix had three back-to-back giant poops!

Though getting all our luggage onto the train was a challenge, the train ride was probably the easiest portion of the journey. On some segments, we had an entire cabin to ourselves (the train service in France is on partial strike so the trains were empty!) allowing us to spread out, play, use the stroller, and do diaper-changes on location. On the longest train ride, Phoenix was once again glued to my breast, where he slept and ate quietly almost the entire journey.

Phoenix on his first train.

Passed out a few minutes later.

Overall, the journey had been easier (though still stressful and complicated) than I’d imagined, mainly because Phoenix had been so overwhelmed that he was fairly easy to manage. During the times he wasn’t – when we were on the move in airports and train stations – we were very grateful to have our baby carrier. Phoenix finds refuge and sleep more easily when in his orange wrap than anywhere else, so the baby carrier provided a practical, hands-free reset for him while we dealt with luggage and transit. Our stroller, while useful at times, was more often than not a backpack carrier than anything.

The Return Journey, with a Four-Month Old

You know how they say that, with a baby, as soon as you’ve figured things out, they change? Well, that was the theme of our return journey.

Since Phoenix had been so overwhelmed by plane and travel travel a few weeks earlier, we expected him to, once again, cling to my breast and hover between sleeping and nursing the entire trip.

He did the complete opposite.

First, we took a train north, from Montpellier to Lyon. Phoenix was wide awake and wanting a lot of attention. He refused to nurse and refused to sleep. But he also didn’t want to stay put in our arms or seat. Every few minutes we had to change his position and activity. Talk about a high-maintenance baby!

This is what Phoenix wide awake looks like. Scary!

At least we had first class seats on the train. Lots of space to play with our high-maintenance boy.

At the Lyon airport, Phoenix was also wide awake, and looking less traumatized than in Montreal a month earlier. I’m guilty of wishing that he’d become overwhelmed by the hubbub so that he’d nestle himself into the safety of my breast for the return flight. I’d learned on the train ride that, even though I’m less comfortable with a baby stuck onto me for an entire journey, it’s a lot less work!

My wish was not granted. Phoenix was just as high-maintenance on the plane as he’d been on the train – only this time, the journey was much longer! Thankfully we had managed to secure the bulkhead seats, along with the baby bassinet, for the Lyon-Montreal flight, so I was able to get him down for two little naps (although during turbulence I had to pull him out and hold him). And we also luckily had an empty middle seat which we used to change Phoenix’ position and activity every couple of minutes. So, we were more comfortable and better equipped for this flight.

But I don’t know if it was because Phoenix was older, it was daytime, or if, after all the trains and planes, he was no longer traumatized by them, but he didn’t need refuge on my breast. In fact, he didn’t want to nurse at all, even during takeoff and landing, so I ended up sticking my finger in his mouth so he would suck on something to help him equalize.

Keeping Phoenix occupied on the plane ride home.

Putting Phoenix down for a nap in the plane’s baby bassinet.

Good thing no one was sat in the middle seat, because we sure did take up a lot of space!

He also had several more explosive poops, dirtying three sleepers almost back-to-back (almost always during turbulence or landing, when we couldn’t go change him right away!). Not to gross you out or anything, but during our journey a month earlier, Phoenix had had 8 poops in that 24-hour period, and this time he’d had 4 on a 7-hour flight. Either it’s a coincidence that he had a tummy ache each time (maybe stress-related?) or something about the altitude and air pressure made him a pooping machine!

A Note About Jet Lag

In our experience, Phoenix suffered more from jet lag on the return trip, or the westbound trip. Perhaps it was just the timing of our flights, but by the time we arrived at Bruno’s brother’s place in France around 6pm the following day, Phoenix was so exhausted that he passed out for the night almost immediately. This meant that he acclimatized to the local time fairly quickly. Maybe he was a bit more wakeful at night for a week or so, but he definitely didn’t go through any day and night confusion.

On the way home, we arrived around 5pm local time, and by the time we got Phoenix to bed for the night it was almost midnight in France. Contrary to what some people might think, when a baby goes to sleep late, they don’t sleep in the next morning. Because Phoenix’ internal clock was on France time, he wanted to wake up in the morning… on France time. It didn’t help that we are on the longest days of the year and that our bedroom here doesn’t get dark. It took several days to get Phoenix to sleep in until 6:30am, and as I write these words a week after our return, his nights are wonky.

What We’ve Learned about Travel with a Baby

Jet lag is real. And when your baby has jet lag, yours takes forever to go away.

Pack more diapers and sleepers than you imagine you could ever need. Your baby might have explosive-poop-in-air syndrome, too, and that way you’ll avoid having to blow dry baby clothes in the airport bathroom!

Changing Phoenix’ diaper on the airplane.

That being said, pack as lightly as possible. Unless you are going straight from a car to a plane and to a car. Which I’d recommend.

Strollers are very useful for travel. Baby carriers are even better. Have both.

Babies are heavy. And needy. Four arms are barely enough for one baby.

Airports and train stations are not made for babies. It’s hard to find a quiet, discrete place to nurse, and almost impossible to find a change table. So get comfortable with having your boobs and your baby’s poopy private parts out in the open!

Nursing Phoenix at the departure gate.

Thank God for that baby wrap!!!

Finding an actual changing table is not easy!

If your baby is a good night sleeper but a bad napper, try to book red eye flights. You’ll have more luck keeping baby asleep. A sleeping baby is a low-maintenance baby. An angel, really. God, I love a sleeping baby.

So, Would We Fly With a Baby Again?

The short answer is, of course. We have no choice. We live away from our families, so air travel, train travel, and overseas travel will be a yearly part of our lives.

But, if we didn’t have to travel to see our families? Like, if we lived in the same cities and only needed to take trains and planes for fun? Hell, no!

Maybe that’s jet-lagged Brittany talking. But, honestly, it was exhausting (as if overseas travel isn’t exhausting enough). Phoenix was overwhelmed, I felt terrible for putting him through the trip, and it took us long enough to recover that a fun short holiday would have been marred by jet lag.

The long answer is this: Train travel isn’t so bad. The seats are larger and at least you can walk around the aisles anytime you want. Short flights are fine, too. A fussy, high-maintenance baby isn’t the end of the world for a couple hours. If the trip has to be long, break it up into smaller segments and have an excuse to transit in a new place. If god-forbid, the flight needs to be long, make it a north-south trip so jet lag isn’t a factor. And if, like us, your family lives in a faraway time zone, convince them to fly to you instead!

Mama’s yawning. This is gonna be a looooooong trip.

I like my baby bassinet!

It’s not just because I’m traveling again – after a two-month travel hiatus – that I’m so happy, nor is it simply because I’m in a new and exciting city.

I’m so happy because two of my best friends in the world are about to join me in Europe for a ten-day reunion!

Erin (middle) and Alex (right), two of my very best friends.

The three musketeer, exploring Europe together!

I met Alex and Erin almost a decade ago in Bangkok, Thailand.  We had all arrived mid-school-year to teach English at a private bilingual school in the city.  Though our time together in Thailand was brief, we took full advantage of school holidays to explore the region, creating lifelong memories along the way (one of my best ever was camping on a deserted island in the Philippines with Erin; I’ve also had a few epic trips with Alex since then, most notably to Egypt and Zimbabwe).

Alex now lives in Singapore and Erin in Washington, DC, so the only time the three of us have been together since Thailand was in 2012 for Erin’s wedding.  Here in Barcelona, all that was about to change.

Three Nights in Barcelona

Barcelona is the perfect backdrop to a girls’ trip.  The city is large, exciting and energizing.  The weather is mild and sunny.  Cafes and tapas bars line the streets – the perfect places to have long lunches.  Which is exactly what we did.  Over glasses of wine and mini tapas plates, we reconnected and filled one another in on each of our lives.  We looked like total locals with our late, lingering meals.

The Gothic Cathedral of Barcelona

Wacky Gaudi architecture.

Palm trees and balmy weather

Erin hadn’t been to Europe in about 14 years, so we did make sure to do a bit of sightseeing.  Most of it involved Antoni Gaudi.  We visited the Sagrada Familia, a cathedral that is perhaps the landmark of Barcelona.  Its construction began over 100 years ago, but, because of its magnitude (and other factors), the cathedral is still not finished.  It is hoped that the structure will be complete by 2026, exactly 100 years after Gaudi’s untimely death.

Our Air BnB was only a 7-minute walk from the Sagrada Familia, so we were lucky to catch a glimpse of its imposing exterior several times and in different light.  Though the interior was celestial, for me, the cathedral is all about its exterior facades and skyscraping arches.  I’m happy we got to soak up the grandiosity of the Sagrada Familia over the course of our three-night stay in Barcelona.

The infamous Sagarada Familia

We did an audio tour inside the Sagarada.

And saw cool things like this very celestial ceiling!

Because our accommodations were just down the road, we got to see the Sagarada Familia in all different types of lighting!

We also visited Gaudi’s Parc Guëll.  The park is massive, but we concentrated our guided visit on the inner Monumental Zone, where you can find a few preserved homes, Gaudi’s infamous mosaic salamander, and the old viaducts.  We were so lucky that it was warm and clear, and so we stayed long enough to sun ourselves, and to catch an epic view of the entire city, with the Mediterranean Sea in the background.

Admiring the panoramic of Barcelona from atop Parc Guëll.

The famous mosaic salamander at Parc Guëll.

The lovely viaducts.

Some of the funky Gaudi buildings inside the Monumental Zone.

With the rest of our time in Barcelona, we wandered fairly aimlessly around the city (talking, of course, all the while).  We went to Barceloneta, the area of town where locals congregate along the city beach.  It was pretty happening on this Saturday afternoon, with hawkers set up along the wharf and bands performing on the street.  We had an al fresco drink, Alex got a mini-massage, and we dipped our toes in the Mediterranean as we watched an incredible lightning show in the sky over the sea.

We also wandered around the alleys off Las Ramblas, in the Gothic area.  We stumbled upon the Catedral de Barcelona, a small farmer’s market selling cheese and wine and honey, and we feasted on the best churros y chocolate in town.

We ate really well throughout our trip, actually (thanks to Erin, who had done her research).  Our first evening we dined at La Yaya Amelia, where we had a tasty (and affordable) three-course meal.  Funnily, the restaurant was almost entirely empty at 8pm, but started to get packed as we left around 10pm.  Our final afternoon, we stumbled upon Arume Restaurante, a super popular and funky place famous for its paella.  Amazing food and ambiance.  I highly recommend both!

Churros y chocolate, with some more chocolate on the side (cuz why not?)

Tapas!!!

Arume, a delish restaurant.

Paella, and an amazing artichoke dish, at Arume.

A Night in Carcassonne

From Barcelona, we took the train to Carcassonne, France.  I had long wanted to visit this city, as it has a massive medieval Unesco World Heritage fortress on its hill.  On the day we arrived, we were shocked by the wind and plummeting temperatures, but we braved it and visited the fortress, anyway.

Actually, I didn’t plan the trip very well.  In the off-season, the castle and ramparts close by 5pm, and we were too late arriving to enjoy the recommended two-hour visit.  We were happy to know we could still walk around the outskirts of the ramparts, which allowed us to get sweeping views of the city.  The buildings sported the same red Roman tiles as the roofs in the south of France, but because of the dampness here, the red has gone a greenish grey.  I like that you can tell which region of France you’re in based on the color of the roofs!

View of Carcassonne from the fortress ramparts.

Lots of cafes inside the fortress, but not the weather for sitting outside!!!

Carcassonne’s picturesque fortress walls.

Happy to find out we could walk the perimeter of the ramparts!

Carcassonne’s Cité is full of kitsch tourist shops, which doesn’t make for the most authentic experience.  I think tourism has ruined what could have been a very charming village.  But what makes Carcassonne absolutely worth the visit is a view of the fortress walls at night.  The place looks like a Disney fairy tale castle and it’s hard to believe that, not only is this place real, but it’s 1000 years old.

Fairy tale castle, right?

Erin is the selfie queen.

Carcassonne at night – the highlight of our time there.

When in Carcassonne, one must try the regional dish of cassoulet, a white bean and meat stew.  Because it was Monday, the restaurant our Air BnB hosts had recommended was closed, but the girls still managed to try the dish at the only restaurant open in the “nouvelle cite” (for one should never try cassoulet in the fortress).  Then, because it was cold and our apartment was just so darn cute, we bought wine, cheese, charcuterie, and chocolate mousse, and headed home for a proper French girls’ night.  I’m so glad Air BnB exists, as we were able to find lovely private apartments at each destination, which maximized the time we could spend simply being together.

Cassoulet, Carcassone’s infamous dish.

And our nightcap at our lovely Air BnB.

Two Nights in Bordeaux

This city was high on Erin’s destination list, because she’s totally in love with Bordeaux wine.  Our first afternoon there, we simply wandered around the old town, which is mostly pedestrian streets and funky shops and brasseries.  Because it was still so cold, we had a hot beverage under the heat lamp overlooking a cathedral and a square.  It felt very French.

That evening, we visited L’école du Vin, where we could sample glasses or flights of wine from the Bordeaux area.  The staff was knowledgeable, the environment sophisticated, the glasses affordable, and the pours generous.  I loved it, and Erin was in absolute heaven.

Bordeaux’ Old Town.

We sat outside sipping on hot beverages with a view of this lovely cathedral.

Bordeaux’ classy pedestrian streets, lined with boutiques.

The next day, we decided to make her dream of visiting a real Bordeaux château come true.  We hopped on a local train to St. Emilion, one of the most famous wine-making regions of Bordeaux.  We had no plan and no idea what to expect, but the village was so charming that I didn’t even care if we didn’t visit a single château.  We ate crêpes by another cathedral overlooking another square, caught glimpses of the green-grey-tinged Roman tiled roofs, and wandered past endless rows of perfect grape vines.

St. Emilion, one of Bordeaux’ wine regions.

So.Darn.Charming!

Vineyards as far as the eye can see.

So.Darn.Charming!

We did eventually head to the tourist office, and they were very helpful in organizing a wine-tasting visit for us.  First we visited one of two domaines in the village proper that allow you to wander through their underground wine cellars for free.  It was a quick visit followed by an equally quick two-wine tasting.

Next, we visited Château Haut Sarpe, a smallish family vineyard.  The tour was in French (because we booked last-minute in the off-season) so I did quite a lot of translating, which allowed me to truly understand the entire process of wine-making from grape to bottle.  I found it absolutely fascinating, and would recommend a visit for any wine-lover or curious individual.  It made the tasting at the end all the more delicious and meaningful.  One day, I’d love to return to Haut Sarpe in September to help with the grape harvest for a few weeks – what a cool cultural experience that would be!

The Chateau we visited, Haut Sarpe.

Haut Sarpe not only makes great wine, but it’s a historic chateau with lots of pretty old buildings, including this wind mill.

Pretty stoked to have visited St. Emilion with my besties!

Four Nights in Agde

After getting to visit three new European destinations (yay!), I brought the girls home to Bruno’s neck of the woods.  I wanted Erin to meet Bruno and see our little home and village (Alex already had back in 2015), and it was also a way for us to save a bit of cash while winding down the tourism part of our trip and focusing on soaking each other up as much as possible (because who knows when the three of us will be together again?).

I took the girls to La Table d’Emilie, my favourite French restaurant in Marseillan, for a gourmet five-course meal.  They loved it all up.  I took them to Pézénas, the medieval fortified city full of talented artisans selling their wares (the shops are much more interesting here than in Carcassonne).  And I took them to the local spa, followed by an outdoor lunch of moules frites along the edge of the Herault River.

But mostly we cooked.  We talked.  We walked the beach.  We talked.  We sang.  We talked.  We laughed.  We talked.

Enjoying dessert after 4 previous courses at La Table d’Emilie.

La Table d’Emilie, in Marseillan. Fabulous restaurant.

Walking the beach (despite the wind) outside our home in Agde.

And we promised each other we would meet again soon.  This trip had been rejuvenating and illuminating for our souls, and we knew we needed to make one another a greater priority in our lives.

That’s the thing about long distance friendships.  Time makes you slowly forget, adapt.  You lose the urgency of being with that person.  But the moment you’re next to one another, you remember.  You pick up where you left off, you soak it all up, you fill your heart with that person, and you hold on to them that much more tightly because you don’t know when you’ll be able to do it again.

I’m sitting at my departure gate at the Barcelona International Airport.  Our girls’ trip has come full circle, as I’ve returned to the city where just ten days before I happily awaited Alex and Erin while contemplating the quirky architecture of Barcelona’s renowned Antoni Gaudi.  I’m tired – exhausted, actually – but I am happy.  So, so happy.  Over the past ten days I have discovered three new regions of Europe, which is always exciting for a traveler.  Better yet, I discovered these regions with friends.  There’s no better way to discover a place.

Saying goodbye (for now) at the Barcelona airport.

Most of the photos for this post are courtesy of my lovely talented friend, Erin Socia.  Thanks for letting me share, and for being our official trip photographer!!!

Happy New Year from Bruno, Brittany and Totoyaya!

Happy New Year, friends!   I do love the start of a new year.  It’s an excuse to reflect on a parcel of time, to reminisce about the things that have passed, and to plan for the year at hand.  (Confession: I do make resolutions, even though I know they never work!)

Accordingly, it’s the time to write a 2016 Year in Review post, something that has become somewhat of a happy tradition here at Wandering Footsteps (for me if not for anyone else).  And so, in lieu of my Monthly Wrap-Up, let it be today a Yearly Wrap-Up.

Bruno and I rang in 2015 in the desert of Sudan, bush camping by sand dunes and snorkelling on the best coral reef I’ve ever experienced while awaiting passage on a ferry that would take us out of Africa and into the Middle East.  2015 then became a year of incredible travel statistics – 13 new countries, 4 continents, and 2 massive road trips.

This time last year we rang in the New Year with extended family at a luxurious villa in Morocco.  And somehow, 2016 has ended up being about those things – being in homes and being with loved-ones.

The start of 2016 – in a rented luxury villa in Morocco with extended family – set the tone for a 2016 that was very home-based and family-oriented.

While living in our house in France for three months, we had the pleasure of spending Easter with Bruno’s family, of photographing that moment, and of offering it to Bruno’s mom for her 80th birthday.

If you’ve followed Wandering Footsteps this year, you know that we haven’t been as mobile (read “exciting” – this is a travel blog, after all) as previous years.  2016 has involved a lot of living in homes-without-wheels (much to Bruno’s dismay!).  We spent almost three months living in our home in southern France, the entire summer at my parents’ home in New Brunswick, several weeks living at the home of our family friends in Toronto, returned to our home in France for three weeks, and just spent Christmas in an Air BnB cottage in Los Angeles (more on that in a future post).

While I have enjoyed getting a chance to build a routine, cook a lot, and appreciate the bit of extra comfort that living in a home allows, I admit that we may have overdone it this year with our home living!

An amazing moment in Morocco while camper vanning with my parents.

A family reunion this summer in New Brunswick, and the first time Bruno met a lot of very important people!

Along with our newfound domesticity this year, we did a lot of socializing (much to Bruno’s dismay, again – I have a feral man for a husband!).  We started the year off with family in Morocco, and then showed an old friend of mine what living in Totoyaya was like, also in Morocco.  This spring, we spent a lot of time with Bruno’s French family, and I also received a visit from an old English friend of mine.  This summer, I visited a couple friends in New York and Washington, DC, and then spent the summer and fall introducing Bruno to our long-time friends and family from New Brunswick to Toronto and down to New York City as well.  Last but not least, we returned to France to host Bruno’s extended family at our home for another mini family-reunion.

We’ve never had this social of a year, ever!  I am eternally grateful to all the people who hosted us and visited us this year.  It filled my heart with warmth and love, though, yet again, we may have overdone it slightly (can you tell we’re all or nothing people?).  I do expect that now that we’re in North America, the trend of seeing family and friends will continue in 2017.  Mark your calendars!

My friend Sahnah came to visit Bruno and I in Morocco. It had been a few years since someone pitched a tent beside Totoyaya. It was so good to get to introduce her to our lifestyle!

Bruno and I didn’t do nearly as much overland traveling this year as we normally do. This was our first night back on the road after a long hiatus, and we lucked out to find a quiet bush camp in a northern New Brunswick forest.

Though our 2016 New Year’s party couldn’t have foretold this, 2016 has, importantly, been the year of searching for a new home-on-wheels.  Things started when we put our Totoyaya up for sale in the spring, and then Bruno spent a challenging month in France studying to pass his truck driver’s license so that we could buy something larger than our current Toyota Land Cruiser.  Our search for the new vehicle began in earnest this fall in Canada and has continued, without success, here in the Southwest USA.  I hope that 2017 will bring us great luck in quickly finding our new vehicle so that we can convert it into a home-on-wheels and hit the road!  2016 has been fun, but both Bruno and I are eager to re-embark on our normal life.

Even though our year hasn’t involved as much travel as usual, it has still been a year rich of experiences.  I’d like to leave you with some of Wandering Footsteps’ 2016 highlights, challenges, and biggest lessons learned.

The first time the entire family comes together. Very exciting.

Getting a thorough education in Moroccan cuisine from my newfound Moroccan friends. The food is amazing, the friendship even better.

Highlights of the Year

Bruno got his U.S. visa!

This was the view from our Manhattan apartment when we visited my aunt Louise in New York City. Good thing we’re not afraid of heights!

If the past two New Year’s moments set the tone for the year, then I wonder what tone we have just set for 2017?  Whatever it is, I’ve learned this past year (well, ok, I’m still learning) to accept it with gratitude.

May 2017 bring you all many things for which you can be grateful – moments of pleasure and of stillness, opportunities for learning, and connection with others. What do you hope 2017 will bring your way?

Road-tripping down Route 66 was a fun way to make our way south for the winter.

Hiking through saguaro cacti at a National Park in the southwest of the US.

For me, however, France is big meals at long tables with family and friends.  Increasingly – especially with my frequent visits in the last year – France is almost home.

Our recent visit to France drove home this fact.  Bruno’s brother and his family traveled down from Geneva to spend time with us during their school holidays.  We invited Bruno’s niece and her young budding family to spend a week by the sea in the mobile home on our property.  Bruno’s other niece and her partner couldn’t miss all the fun, so they, too, came down for a long weekend.

Bruno’s niece and family stayed in the mobile home on our property. Here, they’re getting their big family organized for the day while Bruno and I take breakfast on the veranda.

Elodie and her lovely family.

The girls gawking over the new babies of the family.

And so, we found our home – and table – filled to the brim with family.  With the exception of my parents, we were the same cast of characters as our family reunion last New Year in Morocco.  So it was just as loud, jovial, and – as with most French families – food-focused.

For most meals, we piled chairs around our dining room table or lined-up tables on our veranda and rustled up four-course meals together – my sister-in-law brought the salad, my father-in-law brought the wine, I managed a main course, and the house stayed loaded with cheese, bread, and Swiss chocolate thanks in large part to our nieces.

Between meals, we soaked in the final fall days of sun on the beach, played pétanque in the village, went shopping at the mall, did some yoga, and played board games.  I got to spend time with my favourite little man, Léo (my niece-in-law’s oldest boy), reconnect with my amazing sister-in-law and nieces, and get to know the two newest members of the family, Ava and Eden, five-month-old twins.

Playing pétanque, France’s most-loved game (besides football, of course!).

I organized a yoga class at our house for our family with my yoga teacher, Satya.

Playing on the beach with my best bud, Léo.

Little Ava is grabbing my hand! Oh MAN those twins are adorable!

Our family indulged in a few special out-of-the-house meals, too.  We went out for a tapas night at the restaurant of Bruno’s cousin in the nearby village of Saint-Thibéry, where Bruno’s parents used to live.  We spent the evening eating, drinking, and laughing with Bruno’s parents, brother, nieces, cousins, aunt and uncle.  Talk about a long table!

We also returned to La Table d’Emilie, our favourite French restaurant in Marseillan.  This time, we were celebrating the double birthdays of Pierrot, my father-in-law, and Elodie, our niece and mother of three.  Pierrot spoiled us all with a 7-course chef’s table, where each dish was a surprise.  We were at the table for five hours!

I’ve grown to truly love the long, zipper-popping meals with my French family.  They are a place for us to connect, to talk, and to slowly savour food and family.  I’d so much rather be at the table for five hours than gazing at artwork in the Louvre or snapping photos of old medieval towns.

Tapas night and one mighty long table (half of it isn’t pictured!).

Celebrating a few birthdays at La Table d’Emilie, our favourite restaurant in France.

The cheese platter course of our seven-course meal. Yum!

Pierrot wanted us to take a photo of the four generations of the family. He’s generation one. Bruno’s brother Patrice (white and blue) is second generation, Elodie (on the right) is generation three, and the three little kids are generation four. WOW!

France isn’t only a place of family – we always manage a bit of time with Bruno’s friends, too.  This year, we were in for a special treat because I finally got to meet the infamous Stephane, Bruno’s old friend who has been sailing around the world for thirty non-stop years.  If you thought Bruno was a wanderer, think again!  Stephane was exactly as I’d pictured him in my head – a fun-loving, open, inquisitive, freedom-loving person.  I liked him immediately, as well as his girlfriend, Karina.

We spent a couple afternoons with them drinking coffee and wandering along the riverfront in town.  One day we all piled in a car and popped in on some of Bruno’s other friends, Michel and Béa, in their hilltop town of Nébian.  We went for a long walk in the hills, tasting berries and nuts from the trees, keeping ourselves warm in old shepherd huts, and wandering through the streets of the very old village.  At the end of all of this, we – of course – sat down at a long table to a long, boisterous meal.

Bruno and his friends. The infamous Stephane is on the left.

Getting warm in the shepherd shelter during our hill walk.

The village of Nébian, where some of Bruno’s friends live.

Going for a walk with Stephane and Karina evidently means chatting up some sailors doing repair work on their boat along the Herault River.

Just like that walk through Nébian, I feel like my tourism in France happens accidentally, while I’m busy living life in a place I increasingly feel is home.  It happens when my family members decide on a sunny afternoon to wander through the beautiful alleys of Pézénas to look at the work of local artisans.  It happens when I decide to get a bit of exercise, take off on a bicycle, and end up sitting at a riverside café in old Agde watching the fishing boats go by.

In Pézénas with family.

Sitting along the Herault River in Vieux Agde.

It’s not even tourism, really, that I’m doing.  For tourism is purposeful, planned, goal-oriented travel – the place itself is at the forefront of the experience.  For me, in France, places take a backdrop to the people.  France doesn’t unveil itself to me from behind the lens of its tourist towns.  It unveils itself to me at its long, food-filled tables.  Increasingly, through these rituals of food and connection, France has ceased to be a two-dimensional place with a long list of places to see – instead, it has become a comforting, comfortable, community-filled home.

His reply: Alaska.

It appears Bruno has been planning his return to North America for at least four years (truthfully much longer).  It’s been a long time coming, which is why August 10^th was such a monumental day for Bruno and me.  Totoyaya, our beloved homemade camper van, arrived in North America!

Our vehicle’s arrival onto any new continent is special (over the years I have personally had the opportunity to experience an arrival in Asia and Europe, though Bruno has also experienced its arrival into Africa, North America, and South America), but our arrival to North America holds a particularly special place in my heart – it’s my home continent!

I’ve spent the last decade (plus) exploring lands far and wide, but I’ve spent so little time exploring my own (unless we count all those childhood moves).  There’s an incredible satisfaction in knowing that I’m finally going to delve deeper into the landscapes, culture, and history of my own special region of the world.  It feels like a return to my roots, like coming full circle after a decade of wanderlust.

This month, Totoyaya will be peacefully parked in the driveway of my parents’ home along New Brunswick’s Atlantic Coast while we spend time with family and friends.  We’ll hit the road sometime in September.  In the meantime, I thought it would be interesting – and potentially helpful – for me to share our experience with shipping our vehicle from Europe to North America.

Totoyaya, our beloved camper van, is parked at my parents’ home in Canada! CRAZY!!

We can even stare at her from the window of our bedroom!

From one side of the Atlantic Ocean to the other!

Step 1: Choosing the Shipping Method

There are two primary ways to get a vehicle across the Atlantic Ocean – putting it in a container, or doing a roll-on roll-off (RORO) ferry.  I talked more about our experiences with these options here, but basically, ferries are generally the option we prefer.  They involve less paperwork and are faster to organize.  The drawback is that the vehicle is less secure, as you have to hand over your keys.  Cost differences depend on size of vehicle and time available to plan the journey.

There isn’t always a RORO available, but the journey between Europe and North America is so popular now that there are several RORO options.  We opted to go with Seabridge because they are one of the most popular and reliable options, and Bruno’s priority for this journey was simplicity.

Step 2: Choosing the Route

We thought we would ship our vehicle from Hamburg, Germany, but Seabridge recommended that we ship from Antwerp, Belgium, instead.  The ferry ride would be several days shorter (four, I think) and the services provided would be in French and English, rather than German only.

Seabridge offers several ports of arrival in North America, but for us, the option was easy.  Halifax is only three hours away from my family home, so Bruno and I could stay there while we waited for Totoyaya to arrive.  This was a great way to bide our time, as there were 2.5 weeks between the date we handed over the keys in Antwerp and the day we could collect our vehicle in Halifax.

Apparently Canadian customs are pickier than the Americans, but the advantage of arriving in Canada is that we weren’t given the one-year time-limit on our foreign vehicle, which is what happens when you arrive in the US.

The possible ferry routes with Seabridge.

Step 3: Making the Reservation

You can make a reservation up to six months in advance, but since we were departing Europe at a less busy time (the busiest times are at the beginning and end of summer), we reserved online a few weeks before our departure.  You need to know the dimensions of your vehicle, as the cost is factored at 47 euros per meter cubed.

When you reserve, you are also given the option of purchasing car insurance with Seabridge.  Even though we weren’t asked to provide proof of our insurance, if we ever get stopped by police or have an accident, it’s the first thing we would be asked for.  We would never drive in North America without vehicle insurance, and though we declined Seabridge’s insurance offer, we found it difficult to find affordable insurance for a European vehicle in North America.  Finally, we went with Progressive.

We did opt for trip insurance on the vehicle with Seabridge, as it was only about 150 euros for the journey.

Step 4: Preparing the Vehicle

Unfortunately, I wasn’t around for most of the vehicle prep (I was spending some family time in Canada before Bruno joined me), so my poor hubby had to do most of this work on his own.  I know this involved cleaning the interior of the vehicle thoroughly (a requirement for the Canadians), removing the water jugs and bicycles from the back exterior of the vehicle, emptying our personal items from the cabin, and high-pressure washing the exterior of the vehicle.

There is a customs inspection upon arrival, and the cost of that inspection is included in the shipping quotation.  However, if the customs inspector determines the vehicle isn’t clean enough, there will be an additional cost to clean and re-inspect the vehicle.

Bruno left one bicycle in France and put the other one inside our vehicle, hiding it with a piece of fabric under the table. Apparently things need to be put away like this inside the vehicle for the ferry ride as well as customs.

Step 5: Loading the Vehicle at the Port of Departure

Vehicles bound on North American ferries with Seabridge from Antwerp must be in the port by noon every Monday (during summer, that is; winter may have less departures).  Bruno was impressed at how simple the process was.  He simply parked at the port, entered the building of the agency, got an entry pass into the port, brought the vehicle to be weighed (ours comes in at 3100kg!), handed his reservations documents to the agent, was told where to park, handed over the keys, and was given a receipt of the delivery.  In and out in under an hour.

Seabridge then provided us with a document package of how the pickup in Halifax would happen, and it included maps, campsites, phone numbers and addresses of the offices we’d need to visit.  The package was well-detailed and we felt confident and clear about the next step in the process.

Driving our camper van into the Antwerp port.

The paperwork that goes along with the shipping process. Easy-peasy.

Our vehicle waiting in the port to be loaded onto the ferry. Bruno has already handed over the keys at this point.

Step 6: Picking up Vehicle at Port of Arrival

We followed our ferry’s progress online with a link that Seabridge had given us, so we knew it had arrived in port Sunday afternoon, just about two weeks later.  It takes a couple of days before the vehicle is available, because everything is unloaded from the ferry and customs takes a day or so to check the shipment.

On Wednesday morning (2.5 weeks after dropping the vehicle off in Antwerp), you do two quick visits in Halifax before heading to the port to pick up your vehicle.  First, if you’ve opted for the service, you go to a customs broker affiliated with Seabridge to pick up a packet of documents.  You have to pay $150CAD for this.  The office is located in downtown Halifax (5km from the port) and the visit takes five minutes.  The simplicity of this step in the process was well-worth the money.

Next, you walk 600m to Canadian customs, hand over the forms you received at the customs broker, answer a few questions about the contents of your vehicle and the intention of your trip, and get your documents stamped.  This also took about 10 minutes.

Bruno and I opted to do these visits the Tuesday afternoon, because the vehicle pickup at the port can only happen between 8:30-11:30am and we didn’t want to be rushed for time.  In retrospect this was not necessary – everything can be done in a single morning.

At the port, we went to the entry office, showed our passport and got vests and guest passes.  We were driven into the port to an office, where we handed over our packet of documents.  Someone walked us to the vehicle for a cursory inspection, we signed a document, and the vehicle was ours to drive out of the port!

The custom broker’s office in Halifax.

The port in Halifax, Nova Scotia where we picked up our camper van.

Can you spot Totoyaya???

I can! I can!!

Concluding Thoughts on Our Experience with Seabridge

Based on the dimensions of our vehicle, it cost us 2585 euros to ship our vehicle on the Seabridge ferry from Antwerp, Belgium, to Halifax, Canada.  This price included optional trip insurance.  We also had to pay $150CAD in Halifax for the broker’s services.

While this price was possibly higher than other companies (and several euros per square meter higher than Seabridge used to cost), Bruno was incredibly satisfied with the experience.  It took less than an hour on each end of the shipping, which was so much simpler than his experiences doing any other long distance shipping.  Also, the price we were quoted was the full price, and there were no additional costs that surprised us at any point in the process.  Bruno felt confident and safe with Seabridge, our vehicle arrived undamaged and with nothing missing, and neither of us experienced any stress during the process.

We can thus fully recommend Seabridge for shipping vehicles between North America and Europe, and we would do it again without any hesitation.

FYI, Totoyaya is, indeed, still for sale.  We’ve decided to keep traveling with her in North America until we find her a proper new home.  For all you North American readers, this means that our beloved camper van is now available in your own backyard!  Please do pass the word on!

He Reconnected with Old Friends, Too

A few days after we parted ways, Bruno received some visitors that are very well-known on this blog: Josu and Ana, our Basque overlanding friends!  They’d spend the last nine months or so remaking and homologating the cell on the back of their Toyota Hilux and were finally hitting the road with their new beauty!  They were en route to Iceland for the summer, and so stopped in at our house along the Mediterranean for a visit.

It turns out it’s a good thing they did because they had a bit of a hiccup to their grand departure and needed to do a few days of mechanical work.  Once that was fixed, Josu and Ana guided Bruno into the first couple of nights of his own overland [re]departure, and they camped and hiked around Lac du Salagou near Clairmont-l’Hérault.

Josu and Ana parked behind Totoyaya at our house in the south of France!

Totoyaya and Josu and Ana’s new camper van parked at Lac du Salagou.

Josu and Ana spent 9 months building a new, bigger cell for the back of their own Toyota. I think they’re super happy to finally be on the road with it!

Lac du Salagou, where Bruno, Josu and Ana camped.

And hiked.  I’m sad I missed it!

He Gave Totoyaya a Makeover

Lac Salagou is close to some of Bruno’s France friends, so Michel and Béa popped over for a visit.  Somehow the discussion came up that Michel knew a guy who could repaint the facade of our camper van, Totoyaya.

And so, Bruno made his way to the nearby village of Nébians, where he set up shop in the garage of Michel’s neighbour.  It took Bruno a few days to detach various items on the façade of the vehicle, strip the paint, and cover the areas he didn’t want painted, and then another day to paint.

Then, he headed back south, to St-Thibéry (about twenty whole minutes away from our house in Agde!) to get the front of the vehicle repainted by a friend of Bruno’s father.

I guess Bruno had a bit of a false start to his own departure.  But, my goodness, did the work pay off – Totoyaya is an absolute beauty now!

Totoyaya getting ready for her paint job.

Hanging out in the village of Nebians.

Bruno’s hard at work stripping paint, but not too busy to snap a selfie for me!

The painter friend hard at work.

The second paint job at the second location.

Isn’t she a beauty now?

He Discovered the Wonders of France

It had been over three months since Bruno had lived in his camper van on the road, and during the interim, life had been stressful.  The thing he wanted most of all during his time in France, then, was to slow down and reconnect with nomadic, overland living.

He’d been worried France would be jam-packed in its touristy high-season, so he was very pleasantly surprised to be able to find such peaceful campsites.  Bruno managed this by traveling inland rather than right along the coast, and by sticking primarily to farms and nudist campsites (family-oriented, of course!).

I received loads of photos through What’s App those first few days on the road.  Bruno was obviously very happy to be sleeping among trees and birds with nothing more to do than swim in the campsite pool, cycle around the villages, and read books while sipping on red wine!

One of Bruno’s first campsites. Just like he likes them.

Another campsite along the way.

Tough life.

Real tough.

What’s more, Bruno was pleasantly surprised by the natural beauty and architectural charm of his country (especially Rocamadour, voted 3^rd most beautiful village this year by French people).  Bruno’s always been a bit down on France, but driving northward through the center of his country showed him that France does, in fact, have a lot to offer.  I think he began to understand why it’s the most-visited country in the world!  I think his trip may just have convinced him that France is a worthwhile country for us to visit together someday!  Score!

Some of the lovely sights of France.

A beautiful church in the north of France.

Wow! So cool.

Rocamadour, voted France’s 3rd most charming village by French people.

View from below.

View from above.

He Lived it Up in the Hotels of Belgium

Bruno’s destination during this road trip was Belgium, a brand-new country for him (which is so, SO rare – the last was Djibouti in late 2014 and the next one will likely be 5+ years from now!).  We had made a reservation to board Totoyaya on a ferry from Antwerp to Halifax.  I think Bruno could easily have spent his entire summer roaming around the farms and villages of France, but he had a date with a port.  (I’ll talk about the ins and outs of our shipping from Europe to North America in my next post.)

Once Totoyaya was safely dropped off in Antwerp, Bruno moved himself into a hotel and became a tourist for a week.  He spent a few days in Antwerp, itself, while waiting to hear that all had gone well with the ferry’s departure, and then he moved himself to Brussels for a few nights while awaiting his flight to Halifax (and me!).

Bruno didn’t do nearly as much tourism as he would have done had I been there, but he did take a bunch of photos of beautiful buildings for my benefit (and yours!).  He enjoyed the architecture a lot and the food well enough.  What he didn’t enjoy so much was the heavy security everywhere and the obvious fear with which people were living their lives on the city streets.  While he completely understood the need for the high security alert, he felt it created a profoundly sad and negative vibe to his experience of Belgium.

A few shots of Belgium. I have no idea what they are, but they’re pretty!

I know THIS one! Little Man Pee!

Brussels has a heavy security presence right now.

People are still out and about, but Bruno sensed a palpable caution.

Bruno arrived safe and sound in Halifax on the evening of August 2^nd, and into the arms of his happy awaiting wife!  Reunions after six-week absences are oh-so-sweet!  I’ll surely be blogging about Bruno’s introduction to Eastern Canada over the coming weeks, but right now I’m a little too busy enjoying having Bruno here to write!

Every summer, I head back to visit my extended family in the Atlantic province of New Brunswick.  I spend weeks sitting on our gloriously deserted beach, cooking in the kitchen and gardening outside, binge-watching dance TV programs with my mom, doing as much yoga as possible, and catching up with relatives and family friends.

Having a cool beer on a warm evening on the porch behind my parents’ beachside home in Canada.

Working in the garden – one of my newfound favouritest hobbies!

A visit with my cousin, Katie, and her six-month-old baby boy, Theo(dorable).

And every summer in Canada – well, for the past four, anyway – I get the following question: “When’s Bruno coming?”  There are a whole lot of curious people in New Brunswick waiting to meet this almost-mythical man of mine.

Finally, this year, when I was posed this much-anticipated question, I was able to respond: “In August!”

Yep, my friends, Bruno is coming to Canada in a few short weeks!

Not only that, Totoyaya is coming, too!

You may be thinking to yourself, Wait a minute, isn’t Totoyaya for sale?  And you’re right.  Explaining her impending Canadian appearance requires me backing up just a bit: Remember how I talked about all the work Bruno and I ended up having to do – the house renovations, the truck driver’s license, the parents’ move – during our three months in Bruno’s house on the Mediterranean?  Because of that, we weren’t able to accomplish one of the goals we’d set for ourselves in France – namely, to sell our camper van and buy a new, bigger one.  We just didn’t have the time or energy to invest in sprucing her up and posting For Sale ads on visible forums and websites.

And so, we were forced to create a Plan B: hit the road yet again with Totoyaya and try to sell her while we travel.

It just so happens that our next travel destination is North America!  It’s been in our sights for years – heck, when I met Bruno, in Mozambique, and asked him where he was headed, his reply was: Alaska.  Since then, I’ve spent many hours daydreaming about finally exploring my own continent, visiting friends all around the country, and getting to know the vast landscapes, histories and cultures in my own childhood backyard.  I’m really excited to come to Canada with Bruno – and to bring Totoyaya long for a bit!

As I write this, Bruno is traveling north through France.  He left Le Grau d’Agde about two weeks ago and is heading for Antwerp, Belgium, where a ferry is waiting to sail our beloved home-on-wheels to Halifax, Canada!  He’s having an amazing time rediscovering his simple, free lifestyle after so many months in a house, and he’s having almost as good of a time discovering the beauty of his own country!  Despite visiting most of the world (over 130 countries!!), Bruno has seen very little of France.  He’s been pleasantly surprised by the wonderful farm and wilderness campsites, and has been having a great cycling around the countryside and wandering through historical towns like Rocamadour, voted this year the 3^rd most beautiful French town by the French.

Bruno and Totoyaya hit the road in France!

Being with Totoyaya is the next best thing to being with me for Bruno.

And discovering Bruno’s own country’s beauty has been almost as wonderful!

See? Bruno’s happy!

Meanwhile I have been getting my Canada on.  I arrived in the country on June 19^th and spent two nights in Toronto with our long-time family friends, the Sharples.  Even though I couldn’t wait to see my mom, it was the next best thing to be with my second mom, and to hang out with my “little sisters,” who both took a day off work to be with me as I ploughed through tubs of Baskin Robbins Peanut Butter and Chocolate Ice Cream and containers of the world’s best hummus from Falafel World.  We took their dog, Riley, for a walk along Lake Ontario, admired the Toronto skyline, visited Lisa’s mom, Baba, reconnected with one of their family friends, Tyler, and drank some good wine with the whole family.  It was amazing that the weather in Toronto was a good 10 degrees warmer than what I’d left in France!  Go Canada, go!

My “little sisters,” Stephanie and Amanda with the Toronto skyline in the background. Love you girls!!

And my second mom, Lisa!  You’re the best!

Sharing a pint with Lisa and Tyler, an old friend.

Almost a month has flown by since my return to New Brunswick.  Since I know Bruno will be arriving soon, I’ve been soaking up as much daughter time as possible with my mom and dad.  Their home on the beach is an absolute paradise, so I’ve been luxuriating in a garden, kitchen, sun room, and nearby beach.  I celebrated my 32nd birthday with a morning kayak, an afternoon with friends and family on the beach, and a dinner out with my parents.  I’ve also been focussed on helping my dad create a healthier routine, we’ve all started a 21-day meditation program, and I’m also following a 6-week online course on Happiness and Fulfilment.

It seems I’ve kept my itchy feet at bay, at least for now.

By September, I imagine it will be another story.  Bruno and I don’t have concrete short-term plans – there are too many unknowns right now, like when/where we sell Totoyaya, visa issues for Bruno, and other travel opportunities that may come up.

Celebrating my 32nd birthday at home with mom and dad.

Lunch out with my grampa.

Vegan buffet dinner with my aunt, uncle, parents, and cousins!

We do, however, know our long-term plan.  And this is where YOU come in.  Bruno and I plan to spend the next several years on the American continent(s), flitting from north to south as we please (and as visas and weather dictate).  We want to go far north (to Alaska, as Bruno told me when we met, but also to Canada’s version of Alaska, the Yukon Territory).  We definitely want to spend time in Mexico and Central America (a brand new region of the world for me).  And we eventually want to head to the southernmost tip of the Americas, Argentina’s infamous Patagonia (and one of Bruno’s favourite places ever).

Since I’m fortunate enough to be able to travel at length on my continent of birth – and the continent of most of my family, friends, and faithful readers – I’m really excited to ask for your advice.  I want your help to plan our travel itinerary!

In the comments section at the end of this post, please send us your advice and tips.  We’re especially interested in the following recommendations: What must-see places and must-do experiences should Bruno and I not miss in North America?  What’s a favourite local haunt, neighbourhood, or restaurant in your favourite North American city?  What national park or reserve do you love best?  What once-in-a-lifetime activities do you recommend?  What is the most awe-inspiring piece of nature you’ve seen on our beautiful continent?  What cultural events, festivals, or concerts should we look out for in the coming months or years?

We’re really excited to begin our American Odyssey this fall!  We’re sure it’ll be all the better thanks to your help!

It’s the longest we’ve stayed in one place since I worked in Uganda almost four years ago.

At the beginning of this very atypical [for us] sedentary adventure, I expressed my excitement and pleasure at being stationary.  I was totally digging the comforts of a house, the domestic routine, the feeling of groundedness and community that my nomadic life lacks.

I also predicted that, eventually, the novelty of the mundane would wear off, and that I would be ready to hit the road again.

I was right.

I don’t know exactly when the shift occurred – all I know is that, in time, I found myself daydreaming about being in Totoyaya and getting excited again about foreign places in books and on TV.  At the same time, I noted that my gratitude for basic household comforts (like hot water and a washing machine) was diminishing, and that my once-mindful appreciation for my daily routine was being dogged by everyday frustrations and problems.

The novelty of living a normal life in a normal house was wearing off, and I was able to see what this type of life would be like for me without my rose-tinted glasses on.

Having lunch with Bruno and his parents – one of our post-yoga routines that never got old.

Hosting family was an amazing way to strengthen our community in France.

Extended lunches with extended family.

There are definite advantages to living in one place for an extended period of time.  The one that jumps out at me the most is the ability to create roots.  When you’re in one place, you become part of a community, you gain a deeper grasp of a place, its people, and its place in time and space, and you carve out a place for yourself within in.  Maybe you join a club or activity that adds meaning to your life, maybe you turn a house into a home, maybe you create deep connections with people that aren’t possible when you’re flitting from place to place.

But there are also challenges to living in the real world.  During my nine weeks in France, I identified a few of them:

The Perpetual To-do List

Being in the real world involves a whole lot of work and responsibility.  I had to re-create a daily to-do list, something I’d happily given up four years ago when I embarked on this nomadic life with Bruno.  In France, as soon as I accomplished something (and get the satisfaction of checking something off my list!) two new tasks would emerge.  My to-do list seemed eternal.

What’s more, if I chose to make time for myself (to do yoga, to walk the beach, to play in the kitchen, to read), a part of me would feel guilty for taking time off.  Not only did I know, in the back of my mind, that I had so much work to do (which was stressful enough), but I was often hyper-aware that even though I had chosen to take some time for myself, Bruno had chosen not to (he consistently ran around like a chicken with his head chopped off).

Trust me, there is a lot less satisfaction in sitting outside in a lounge chair with a book when your partner is spray-washing the mobile home siding (and it’s not because he’s disturbing the peace).

Ultimately, I had so little free time that I really appreciated it when I did find some.  But I think I’d rather just have more free time.  Being able to nurture passions, hobbies, and interests adds so much satisfaction to my life that it is challenging to accept a life without the luxury of free time.

I couldn’t help but feel guilty for doing this…

… and this.

Especially when Bruno was doing this.

The Expense

A question Bruno and I often get is how we afford to live this life of travel and adventure (I respond directly to this question here).  What I can say is that, every time Bruno and I spend time in our house in France, our expenses double.

Yes, you read that right – our costs are twice as much living in a house in France than traveling around the world in our camper van.  I truly don’t know how this is because we have very little to show for our expenses.  But somehow, between food and entertaining and house repairs, our money just disappears.

I’m proud of our budget lifestyle in our camper van, as our low-consumerism and ability to find free fun definitely aligns with my personal values.  Perhaps more importantly, though, when we spend money in our camper, I know what it’s going to – experiences that we will remember for a lifetime.  Things like boating on the Arabian fjords in Oman, renting a luxury villa for a huge family reunion in Morocco, fine dining in Italy, and visiting rock-hewn churches in Ethiopia are all concrete – and therefore worthwhile, (to me) – ways in which we spent our money.  It’s frustrating for me to spend twice as much money living in a house without anything tangible to show for it.

The Relationship Challenges

After not living in a real house – with real responsibilities – for almost 18 years, it’s understandable that the pace of life made Bruno a tad stressed throughout our time in France.  Bruno’s work ethic is absolutely astounding, but because of the perpetual to-do list, I felt like Bruno suffered from low-grade anxiety for almost three months (and probably a month or so leading up to our decision to return to France).

I’m not ashamed to say that our relationship suffered during our three months in France.  It’s pretty understandable.  I mean, normally Bruno and I are together 24/7 experiencing eye-and-heart opening places and experiences together in a fairly stress-free way.  In France, we had very little time together at all, and the vast majority of that was either accomplishing tasks or falling onto the sofa at night to watch TV.

Bruno and I hanging out. This is what quality time looks like for us right now!

There’s not a single picture of Bruno and I during our entire time in France until we left the south and visited the new babies in the family.

I had to merge two photos together to get shots of the two of us!

Sure, we had a bit of social time to enjoy together.  And we could connect during mealtimes.  But during a lot of these moments, we were distracted – by other people, by fatigue, by stress.  It was emotionally unfulfilling to be sharing a life and a house with a partner without the depth of connection I have become accustomed to with him.

The Speed of Passing Time

For nine weeks, my Canadian butt lived in a house on the Mediterranean coast of France, and besides my local produce market and nearby commercial center, I saw none of it.  I am almost ashamed to admit that, despite all our best intentions, Bruno and I did absolutely no touristic exploration whatsoever.

I know I talked in a recent blog about how building a community took priority over being a tourist in France, but truth be told, I intended to achieve both.  The problem was that our motto became typical of non-nomadic people everywhere: Tomorrow, tomorrow.

When you have a to-do list, a routine, and responsibilities, it’s so easy to put-off doing special things like visiting a new town, historical site, or natural space.  Bruno and I fully intended to visit at least a few of the many worthy sites in our area, but we always put them off.  We thought we’d have time tomorrow, knew these places would still be there tomorrow.

Well, enough tomorrows went by, and suddenly, nine weeks had come and gone and I was on a flight to Canada.  Though I’m satisfied I prioritized domesticity and community over tourism (in order to balance out what I get the rest of the year), I’m kicking myself just a little bit for letting time totally pass me by without taking advantage of exploring my temporary – and very interesting and beautiful– surroundings.

My most beautiful touristy shot of France in 9 weeks.

In France, I did more of this.

And this. I’m ok with that.

But it woulda been fun to do this too.

I’m definitely not saying that living in a home sucks.  I’m in no way criticizing the majority of you who have chosen a non-nomadic, domestic existence for yourselves.  I’m sure that many of you have found ways to get past these real-world challenges, to find solutions or tactics that help you manage them, or to balance them with the advantages of non-nomadic life.  (Maybe you don’t even find them challenges at all!)

I’m just saying that, because I don’t regularly live the non-nomadic life, it’s been easy (and interesting) for me to compare it to my nomadic life, to observe the differences, and to note the advantages and drawbacks to each (I talk more directly about the plusses and minuses of living in a camper van here).  At the very least, these notes can be sociologically interesting, but at the most they could also provide perspective for those of you so immersed in the real world that you don’t even realize the challenges it entails.

I already knew that occasionally dabbling with a domestic, non-nomadic life is valuable to me because it allows me to tap into the exact opposites of the life I normally lead – community, roots, routine, comfort.  What I didn’t realize was that stepping into the real world would renew my energy and appreciation for my life on the road.  After my refresher course on the challenges of regular life, I am refilled with gratitude for the fortune I have to live my amazing nomadic life.  Thank you Universe!