St. Jean

by littlesarahbigworld

Went and visited my french friend, Sebastien, at his family’s country home in St. Jean, near Montpellier (France). It was nice to hear the crunch of fresh snow under my feet, wander through the silent woods and warm up by the fire. A much needed break, I’d say, and when I got home (to Madrid), my homesickness was cured.

Probably from all the alcohol we drank. Or from Sebastien teaching me (in French!) about stoicism, and then nearly driving us off a cliff in the early morning, giving me a chance to practice said philosophy.

But I honestly couldn’t be upset about it. All I could think, as we were hiking to the neighbor’s house to ask for help, was “Now I’ll get to practice my French even more!”

La Maison

Ruins near the house

Our "bon homme de neige"

More Ruins

We found châtaignes!

...gathered them up...

...filled my hat...

...roasted them in the fireplace...

...and ate them with champagne and cheese! Très cévenol.

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