Mais quand reverrai-je?

Mais quand reverrai-je, de mon petit village, fumer la cheminée et en quelle saison? 


So this will be my last official "Leah in Angers" post, since I will be leaving Angers shortly, though I will continue to update until I get back home and settled in.


As promised, a little pro-con list for the US and France. Click to open in a new page, readable size.


One more night to sleep in my comfortable, on-the-floor bed (almost all of us students have on-the-floor beds), one more breakfast of yogurt, maybe one more tour about town, one more sunny hour in the garden where Zachary proposed to me, one more wistful look at the castle (I could totally have been a princess), and maybe, I suppose, a farewell to my host family. At least to Patrick, whom you know from our rugby conversation a few months ago.


I have a little Ready-to-Go-Home playlist that includes "Carolina on My Mind" by James Taylor, "Lucky" by Jason Mraz and Colbie Callait, "Home" by Michael Buble, and this song, based on a poem by an Angevine writer, that I'll post below.

Part of the lyrics and chorus translate as "But when will I see my poor house again? It’s a whole province to me, and more. The homeland my ancestors created is better than the Romans’ audacious palaces, fine ardoise (slate typical of Anjou) more than marble. My Gallic Loire is more pleasing than the Latin Tiber, my petit Liré more than the Palatine Hill, and Angevine sweetness more than ocean air. But when will I see my little village again, to light my chimney, and what season will it be? But when will I see it again?" 

And that's about as much sappiness as I'll tolerate over leaving Angers. I suppose when I quit France (in two weeks, in Paris), I'll write some something about what I've learned here and what I'll miss, but honestly, I am so ready to go. I hate that Liana and Amy are staying in Angers for a little while, and aren't coming with me on another adventure (to Scotland), but I'll see them again in the States. We'll have more Aventures des Filles.

As for now, getting out of Angers means I am just that closer to my Scotland dream, and to all those who love me and have missed me at home. Especially Zachary, because it irks me to no end that I wasn't home for his birthday, and that he isn't here to explore Europe with me. 

So long, Angers! Thanks for everything. Thanks for being too old to remember me once I leave, because I want you to stay just the way you are, with your 700 year old cathedral and castle, with your little shops and your slow-moving river. I probably won't ever be back, but that doesn't mean I won't remember you fondly.