Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Back to safe harbor

I hate feeling like a coward but yesterday was a day I behaved exactly this way.

I was really anticipating hanging around in Arles and its surroundings for a couple of days. I wanted to see places connected with van Gogh, places he had painted and get to know what had inspired him so much that he created on average one painting a day during his stay in Arles. Only finding a host for these days was a problem. At first I wasn't worried about it since I have my nomadic accommodation with me all the time. But I didn't expect the weather to change so significantly. Almost no sun and bad forecast for upcoming days. I was rescued by Pascal from Beaucaire for one night, as he was leaving for a hiking trip to the coast. We spent short, but enjoyable time, talking about risky situations in the mountains, sports, relations about people and unconventional lifestyle.

I definitely didn't want to do any camping - either wild or organized - if the weather was so bad, neither did I want to splurge my money on a hostel. Fortunately my search for an emergency couch was successful. But eventually the other day I got no word, no sound from the girl who was supposed to host me. I hopelessly walked the streets of Arles and found no joy in my situation. Where has my unfearful spirit gone? There must have been some Easter celebrations because the centre ville was crowded with people and loud music could be heard everywhere. But among this crowd I felt totally lost, I felt as if somebody has put me in a cage after living in an open space for all my life. I had the urge to escape but actually nowhere to go. My backpack became heavier and heavier with every moment. Every time I leave a place I know I have less in it, but it actually feels like more. I felt like a big failure, wandering the streets of Arles, thinking that no matter which solution I choose, it would mean that I surrendered too easily.

A ship is the safest in a harbor but it's not the purpose of the ship. I knew my safe harbor for now was in Lagnes, but I kept telling myself that I can't take the line of least resistance, rather leave my fears behind. But this time it was too much. I was as happy as I could be when Thierry agreed to host me once more, when I saw the vineyards of Vaucluse again and when I finally arrived to Lagnes.

Ships sometimes have to rest...

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