Au revoir to the Dakar of Europe
Well, I have been out of France for less than 24 hours and already the entire experience is compressing into a jumble of epic churches, delicious meals, and an endless series of improbably ancient places. I say improbably because I am American and European cities checkered with medieval fortresses and 14th century buildings will never stop impressing me simply for being there in the middle of an otherwise functional modern city. It’s like, hello grocery store, hello office building, hello ORNATE MEDIEVAL PALACE ON THE BANKS OF THE SEINE. Oh France, you make it look so simple.
Anyway, on Halloween Andrew took me to Saint Denis, a 13th century cathedral and burial place for French monarchs that’s now in the middle of a random Parisian suburb (see, what did I tell you? hmm?). He told the woman selling tickets that we were British because the great curse of cool places in Paris is that they are always free for EU citizens under 25 and but never for Americans. It happens. But no matter, we took our free British-person tickets and wandered around amongst the graves of dead French kings until we were sufficiently spooked out. Then we went back to Andrew’s apartment and ate Haribo gummi crocodiles and watched the Charlie Brown Halloween special. All in all, we felt very festive.
Then on Sunday morning before my flight left, we wandered Montmartre and looked at the city from the foot of Sacre Coeur. It was the same thing we did on the last day I was in Paris in September, and it was a cool way to bookend the two trips. This time the city was hazy and covered in mid-fall fog and sleet. Afterwards we walked back down and I bought two jars of incredibly overpriced peanut butter (worth every cent) and headed out to the airport.
The flight back was un-notable, and Senghor airport was, like I’m learning it always is, crowded and chaotic. My first order of business (comme toujours) was the impossible search for la monnaie (CHANGE). Then it was off on a cab ride through Dakar back to my house, where I gave my host mom and our maid the chocolates I’d bought them and made a quick exit to my room.
Being back felt a little like arriving in Dakar the first time, but without the excitement. I was lonely and tired and felt acutely how far I was from home. I know that feeling will wear off in the next few days. Until then, I’m drowning my sadness in peanut butter. And I have to say, it’s not a bad antidote.
Over and out.
