We made it

… only 20 hours later than planned. We have made it to Le Havre by a combination of two buses, which skipped through the Normandy countryside, and a tram, which took us directly to the beach.

Weirdly, I have found this detour a lot more fun than I thought it would. The ‘slow travel’ idea I’ve been trying to take with me on this journey had turned out a lot more beneficial in the face of chaos. I could look out the window and enjoy the rolling green hills of Normandy. I could enjoy the roman architecture of the St-Pierre’s church in Caen, pausing to light a small candle for those lost, and sip on a café au lait while we waited for the second bus to pick us up from la gare.

Even though we aren’t Christian, we have picked up a habit of lighting candles in remembrance when visiting churches.

The expected anxiety didn’t appear because I was busy… enjoying myself? How odd. How bizarre. How wonderful!

Confession time: I didn’t fully think this slow travelling thing would work. I assumed that my anxiety would overwhelm any attempt at being mindful and relaxed. Anxiety has a way of kicking down the door and making itself at home. I’ve just come to expect it now; greet it with a sort of ‘oh, it’s you,’ and take the twitches and sweating as just ‘something I do’.