Don’t tell anyone but I’m tired of visiting the beautiful villages of France. I can’t believe I feel this way. I’m probably coming down with something. Anyway, it looks like we won’t be visiting all 170 this month. (Just to warn you there are a few more villages in my photos (possibly even my favourite, favourite one) so I will share those before I stop completely but today I’m not writing another thing about beautiful villages.)
Do you know when you’re hungry and you eat your favourite dinner and it tastes amazing? Well, when we were on the food tour in Porto I was hungry (yes I know I did have a coffee and a pastry just before it but that was two hours before and I hadn’t had breakfast) and Clara handed us a plate with three different cheeses on it. By the way, I don’t eat cheese…
But of course, to be polite, I tried one of the cheeses. And it was amazing. Seriously, amazing. The second one was even better and the third one, I bought from the vendor. I was cured of my cheese-hate.
Time passed, we were in Spain, I decided I’d try my lovely cheese after my lunch one day. I was really looking forward to it. Hating cheese always seemed like a childish thing plus I was missing out on the calcium. But no more, I had found my cheese and now I was a cheese lover.
No I wasn’t, It was terrible, truly. And smelly. My cheese-hate was back. In case you think I had bought bad cheese, I didn’t. There was nothing wrong with the cheese… I just wasn’t hungry. Something (almost) similar is happening with croissants…
But first a confession, I haven’t been totally honest with you. I’ve been leaving some things out of the photos. I’m coming clean now. Here it is -: since we arrived in France I have had a croissant with coffee every morning. Every single morning without fail. The boulangeries of France make the best croissants, of course they do, they invented them. And they are so buttery, so satisfying. But now… I am no longer satisfied with one. One doesn’t taste lovely, it tastes like, I’m starving, I’ll have another one, please. And it’s very annoying. I’m very cross with the croissants. But not cross enough to say no thank you.
My boycott today of the beautiful French villages makes me wonder… have croissants and villages pushed me over the edge of satisfied? I didn’t even know there was an edge to satisfied. Is hunger – not just for food – a good thing? Where we are not stuffed to capacity? What about hunger for information? Where we are ok with not knowing? What about hunger for Instagram, Facebook, Twitter? Where we are ok with boredom? What about hunger for company? Where we are content with the memory of our beautiful friend sitting with us for an hour long ago?
What about hunger for beauty? Where we look in the mirror and see our own beauty looking back?