Normally I don’t enjoy being in the backseat of cars. I prefer to be driving, or not in them at all. But driving from Charles de Gaulle airport in Paris up to Bayeux near the coast up in the north of France was surreal. It was just constant fields, with small farms dotting the corner. A warm breeze rippled through the fields, creating mesmerizing patterns in the corn, wheat, or sunflowers.
Occasionally we would pass through a small town, and the streets were always so narrow, and winding I worried our side mirrors would swipe a wall. At one point, a small old woman hobbled down the side of the road, a baguette pointing out of her grocery bag. Lines of trees sometimes stood at ends of the field, acting as wind shelters, and the sun would shine through them, coming and going as we drove past. At one point, there was a cow grazing by the roadside, it’s utter full. I laughed at that. One of my favorite moments was stopping for dinner at a small restaurant next to an old castle. The town, once again had narrow streets, flower pots, and a river running through it. The buildings were covered with ivy, and we sat down and ate as the sun set behind us.