I wake up trying to find some nostalgia. My trip is coming to an end and today will be my last day touring Europe. On trips past Iíve had to be dragged back on the plane to go home. This whole trip though I havenít felt that way, though I donít exactly want to go back home either. Itís the stress of spending so much. Every dollar I spend is another dollar in the red. At a $120 a thankful of gas, a near-daily expenditure, it gets a little disheartening quickly.
Again I have no real plan for what to do other than I know I shouldnít stray too far from Paris. I end up with a vague idea of hanging out near the sea. Itís snowing outside and the wind is blowing hard. Itís not exactly a beach day. But I press on anyway for lack of a better suggestion.
At around noon I hit the little seaside resort of Bains les Mers. Asides from a scenic coastline today is apparently flea market day. A flea market rolled into farmers market and with ferry rides for the kids too. I didnít end up buying anything as I was already loaded to the gunwales with bottles of olive oil, Spanish ham and chorizo, chocolates and miscellaneous knick-knacks that already were testing the limits of my luggage and ability to lift.
I was done after that, feeling a bit ambivalent, aimless... empty. I checked into a nearby hotel for my long-awaited shower and shave and rested the rest of the day 100 and some odd miles from Paris.