Simple wonders

Cycling my way through friendships, kindness, and love

Staying here in this little village with my new friends has been a gift. We connect in the ordinary ways—sharing meals, even sharing rooms in the house, like the kitchen and bathroom. Crossing paths, respectful of space but enjoying company. Conversations are light, about things I saw on my travels, or where they went on their travels. And deep, talking about family, or those we’ve lost, and how hard it was. We talk about American politics, and Trump, and Iran. And how the world is changing, for good and for worse.

My wonderful Warmshowers hosts in Royan. They served breakfast with homemade bread, filled my water bottles, and warmly sent me on my way.

I hang the washing on the line and Kerry jokes that I will go back to Texas and start a campaign to allow clothes lines in my HOA. Bernard hammered some planks into place to section off part of the garden, and they planted some strawberry starts Kerry got from a friend who had too many. They have divided their garbage into food, paper, plastics, etc. and save bread for the birds. Kerry loves the Recyclerie, where she can find anything she needs, including a zipper, tools, clothes, and dishes.

The time here has been quiet, warm, and reflective. Time to sit quietly and listen to the birds and the wind, and to talk about everything. We are solving the world’s problems at every meal, it seems, talking for two hours or more

My Airbnb host Marie-Therese in La Tremblade, who invited me to her home and served me coffee and a croissant.

In Saint-Jean-de-Monts, Marie came to my room as I was packing in the morning to show me this book about a French princess she worked with for 40 years in an animal rescue program.

I’m so grateful for this time, this connection. I feel full, and satisfied, like after a meal, but here I am full with the knowledge that people are basically good and kind, and that we are more alike than different. I’m reminded that love is everywhere. It’s found in basic kindnesses, like the guy at the hotel in Les Sables d’Olonne carrying my bags up two flights of stairs. My host Marie telling me about the princess who loved animals. Maureen and her sweet family, taking the time to talk with me and serve breakfast when she’s in law school and working and trying to get him out the door for school. The British cyclists offering cherries and Alain on his pushbike showing me the map of France’s cycling paths. The woman who slipped into the church behind me to show me the information booklets and point out the boat hanging from the ceiling, because it is the pride of the village.

The boat is about 12 feet long and hanging from the ceiling, to commemorate the many fisherpeople in the village. (I think. I’m not sure of the translation.)

It's every day, everywhere. I am reminded that despite all the pain, the bombs, the suffering, the anger, that we need connection and that we thrive on it. I didn’t know that I came on this bike trip to seek love, but that’s what it’s become. I’m finding it at every turn, and it’s helping me heal and have courage for the work I’ll have to do when I get home.