Christmas 2006: Dijon

the new theory that i stole just before Christmas is this:
M = EA

it's been a long time since i've felt so alone.
when i got back to allix that friday afternoon, i wanted nothing but to sleep until i could wake up back in my own bed in Melbourne, back in my old life where i was somewhat intelligent and much loved and understood, where i smiled much more than i swore, where i would be warm, where there would be clean bathrooms and kitchens, where the constant noise of other people's happiness would not intrude in my own life 24 hours a day 7 days a week. where i could at the very least sleep in peace.
in short i was feeling rather sorry for myself.

the next day i booked a train ticket and hotel room and left for dijon.
even before the train had started to pull away from the station i felt the smile spread across my face.
i spoke too happily and too loudly (to the annoyed shushes of my fellow passengers) to my sister on the phone explaining what i was doing and why.
i knew nothing about dijon except that they made good mustard. i barely even bothered to read my guidebook. i had no map of the city but knew that it was small enough to simply walk.
when i arrived earlier than the check in time at the hotel and was allowed immediately to go to my room i knew it was a good start.
i fell in love at first sight:
it was CLEAN. it was COSY. it was WARM. and there was a flat screen TV directly opposite the queen size bed. there was a BATH in the huge bathroom and i didn't need to SHARE it!

i deposited my luggage and went out immediately for a walk. the town was so pretty and so small, it was Christmas eve, there were hardly any people in the streets, i knew that i had to stock up on food from the supermarket or i would have nothing to eat the next day when everything would be closed.
i splurged on junk food and chocolate mousse and salads.

and in the middle of happily imagining two whole days and nights of peace and quiet,
bouncing along the streets without taking notice of where i was going and knowing it was not possible to get lost,
while taking photos of oversized plush toys and empty city streets,

i ran so unexpected into you
so far from home, i almost didn't recognise you

so we went back to the hotel together,
lay in huge, firm bed and
watched cheesy american christmas movies all dubbed in french all night,
surprised that it was not only understandable but also educational.
hot kebab for dinner.
disney's tarzan and tarzan II.
lots of chips and choclate.
long hot bath.

perfect, undisturbed, peaceful, comfortable, quiet
sleep

the next morning, sleeping IN, another long hot bath,
it was Christmas afterall
and i looked at you properly for the first time in a long time
eyes bright and cheeks flushed pink
and i thought:
you are BEAUTIFUL
it's been a while since i've felt that way about you
and i was so glad that i had re-found you here
at exactly the right time
and that we had this perfect room all to ourselves
if only for a weekend

then i turned away from the mirror and got dressed and got ready for another day of walking and exploring the almost deserted town and happy in the knowledge that i am never alone.

-.-

I don't know if you would understand what it has been like for me, these past five months, when I haven't had a single place for even five minutes, where I could go to and be comfortable and alone. Allix is a nightmare not only because of the horrible living conditions (yes, I may be a bit of a princess in this regard), but because I have not had a single moment where felt comfortable and at peace. When I say that my neighbour never shuts up, I am not exaggerating. The only time I don't hear her voice is when she is not in her room, and most of the times that's during the day when I am also away. When it is not her, it is some construction, banging, or shouting, or running, and when I say the walls are paper thin, that is not an exaggeration either. When someone talks, it is as if they are INSIDE my room. When people talk in the phonebooths ACROSS THE ROAD from my building, I can hear what they're saying.
Going to Dijon was exactly what I needed. Time to be alone and actually have the quiet to THINK and to just relax and read and write and watch tv and not be constantly annoyed. I have found myself getting so angry over such trivial things these last few months that it frightens me. After two days and two nights in a proper bed and having had some decent sleep, I just felt so incredibly happy. It made my Christmas a perfect one.

What followed was a trip to Belfort, where I met up with Koto, then a trip to Ronchamp to admire Le Corbusier's masterpiece and admire we did, and although, inevitably, things went wrong (my trains delayed, a hotel room in Belfort with insufficient heating and no hot water, not realising until having stood naked under freezing cold water for over five minutes, not being able to find a restaurant for dinner, arriving too early at the chapel and having to freeze in minus zero temperatures while waiting for it, getting sick on the train back to Lyon etc etc), the trip was a perfect one.

I don't regret having come to Lyon. I wish I had had better luck with accomodation.
But we learn and we move on.
If it wasn't so horrible at Allix, I probably wouldn't have gone to as many places as I have.

Thus, my new adopted philosophy:

Misfortune = Excellent Adventure

:)

xx

ps. I hadn't written about Dijon earlier because I wasn't sure how to explain that I had spent Christmas all alone and had felt perfectly happy doing so. I wasn't sure that you would believe me. Also, it had been such a perfect weekend that I almost wanted to keep it a secret. Something that was and always would be my own. But I've also realised recently that joys can grow when you share them and anyway, you all know how much of a loner I can be already so nothing lost and everything to be gained ;)