I’m not a very good tourist, tending to avoid the popular places and having a limited capacity for museums. What I like to do is walk and observe, taking in my new surrounds, pondering the many questions that arise and getting a feel for the place. The added benefit is that I lose weight because I walk all day which gives me license to eat whatever I like. In France this is a wonderful thing!

I have walked in the pouring rain through the streets of Paris, taking shelter in the forecourt of the Centre Pompidou and shop awnings, appreciating the luxury of time. To be able to stand and wait for the rain to ease, watching it’s trajectory as it falls from the sky, runs down buildings and washes through the streets.

I have walked under cloudy skies through the old streets of Vannes, following their winding path up hills, around corners, through narrow passageways and down to the port, using the cathedral’s tour as a compass.

I have walked along the port in Lorient, listening to the clink of halyards on masts, watching repairs and a boat being lowered into the sea in a giant sling, and being buffeted by the coastal wind.

I have walked by the rivers in Nantes, nose wrinkling as the regular clouds of bad smell hit my nose in the summer heat, then minutes later delighting in the smell of honeysuckle and the beauty of hollyhocks growing wild in cracks in the pavement. Then one moment admiring the architectural splendour of the  Passage Pommeraye, a 19th century covered street, precursor to the modern mall, the next moment hearing crazed shouting from the street and beggars asking for coins.

My feet may be a little weary, but tomorrow I will walk again, filling my heart and mind with all sorts of sensations, ideas and questions.