Into the Alps! -- Nice, France

But what is happiness but the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads?

~Albert Camus 

For someone who owns no means of transportation but her own two feet, I seem to get around in the most extraordinary ways. I've moved about in/on bicycles, skis, horses, donkeys, private planes, taxis, porsches, motorcycles, vespas, trains, buses, and boats. 

I'm sometimes frustrated by the lack of independence I feel due to not having my own consistent means of transportation. And then I meet people like Patrick and I decide that I'm really doing just fine. Not having a car of my own forces me to reach out to people in a way I might not if I had my own wheels, just like when I was a poor university student and had the quaint desire to paint but couldn't afford anything akin to canvas. During my travels, I meet people and move the way they move. During my university years, I reclaimed scrap wood from my father's shop and dabbled away to my heart's content. I found a way to incorporate the grain of the wood into the final piece and ended up with some halfway decent paintings. Traveling the world with strangers become friends serves to incorporate their unique perspectives into the local landscape and I discover a whole new way of seeing things. 

I met Patrick at 10:00 on Monday morning at the intersection of Rue Arson and Ile de Beauté. He dismounted his silver motorcycle and assertively shook my hand, an action that this greeting befuddled American greatly appreciated. 

"Would you like to go to the mountains or to the sea?" the adventurous fellow I'd met via couchsurfing asked. 

"Mountains!" I nearly jumped out of my shoes with excitement. "I'm a Colorado girl and I miss my mountains."

"But you will be cold," Patrick's voice was doubtful as he checked the thickness of my sweater. 

"No, no, it'll be fine," I wasn't going to let a little thing like the cold keep me away from seeing mountains. As gorgeous as the hills, cliffs, valleys and fields of the UK were, my Colorado soul still craved a good jagged mountain.

"We get a coffee first? Zis is okay?" 

"Goodness, of course that's okay," I am always ready to go out for coffee.

Patrick has so much to share. I'm not exaggerating when I say that he might be the most multi talented person I've met at this point in my life. He teaches snorkeling, diving, climbing and a style of gymnastics that's very similar to acro yoga. He works on and off as an osteopath, has worked as a life guard, loves motorcycling around the Alps, and knows how to appreciate and enjoy the beautiful things in his life.

I am happy to have met Patrick. 

After drinking our coffee, we climbed onto his motorcycle and sped into the Alps. 

"You are very good on a bike," Patrick commented after a few minutes of weaving through traffic.
"I do not feel you." 

"I love motorcycles!" I shouted through the wind. "I spent two months in Morocco on the backseat of a Ducati and I adored it."

And then I felt at home.

I'm so surprised by the places I end up. Baris came home from work on Monday and asked how my day had been. I smiled and replied, "I went to the market to buy fruit and somehow ended up in the Alps."

Preconceptions: There is so much good cheese here. And it is ridiculously cheap.

Challenges: When toasting in France, you clink glasses and say "santé!" I will find a story soon.