WEEKEND IN DOURDAN

"Where the heck is that?" You must be thinking!...
Well, just about 50 kilometers South of Paris. It's a cute, tidy, old and well kept French village named Dourdan.
Once upon a time, the well travelled Ladyjo had been sitting in here town with no money in her pocket and with serious urge to get out of the place. Weeks of stillness after being on the road for a while was too much.
She couched surfed for sometime, hung out not doing much, read, walked the streets she used to know... But, things seemed to have changed. Shops had shut down, new ones had opened, bus stops had changed location and bus numbers also had rotated. If the syndrom of persecution inhabited her, she would say it was all made just to confuse her in order for her not to recognise the place she left... But no! There is no cosmic conspiration, things had just changed and people had moved on.
The person subletting Ladyjo's flat moved out and she got her home sweet home back. Numbed she was once she returned to the bricks and concrete she had been living in for a few years... a back to naught feeling arises .... and now what?
Her Panama hat is tired and all mashed up but her nearly soleless shoes and her soul are only crying out for one thing.... hit the road JO!
The sound of her vintage black bakelite telephone rings and her old friend Sandrine speaks up as she unhooks it....
"Hey Jo! You wanna join on a road trip to Paris?"
Well, I guess you know the answer. Yes, a few minutes later she is packing a bag and "I'm on the road again" plays in her mind as she is gathering her things.
The local train takes her to Nyon where she meets up with her friend and they hop inthe car heading to the French Jura.
Up, up, up they go! It's June but up in the mountain there is still snow on the ground and amongst it the finest and cutest flowers... funny season!
The journey lasted about six hours, rolling through pine forests, descending the mountains to finally end up cruising through fields and flat landscapes where not even a hill was in sight.
Just before nightfall, turned of the main road to drive through a beautifull old romanesque village. Small stone houses lined up beside each other, all with their unique style and pretty gated in gardens.
Now, which one is the one Jo is staying in?
Down the road, passed the wood a lovely modest gate appears, Sandrine hops out and opens it and in they go.
Whaow!!! The house is one of a kind! It's the Parisian area but the house is suprisingly Breton style.
 It looks tiny from the outside but has more space than you can imagine inside.
It turns out that Jo's friend is the gran niece of a pretty famous French painter and the house used to be his workshop.... the living room has a glass roof to enable the mandatory precious Nothern light for painting. The atmosphere is exquisite. The weekend is spent digging, moving, sunbathing, reading, writting, cooking, laughing. The only ingredients needed for the soul to be fed and the free spirits to blossom.
Saturday afternoon, being so close to the capital, Jo and her friend decided to train it into town. The city is really quite, thankfully. Most stores are closed and Parisians have fled the city seeking tranquility.. but it's actually probably the best time to have stayed.
The girls strolld though the Marais a beautiful old quarter filled with designers boutiques, vintage stores, romantic terrasses.
Mmmm, you would like some adresses and tips?
Hang in there, more is coming soon!
Ladyjo's next stay in Paris is very soon, she will spend enough time there to gather the precious information you need for a nice cheap stay...
And in about 10 days, Jo will spend sometime in Brussels.
Stay tuned!

BACK TO GENEVA

So, here I am... back in my old Geneva!

It's been nearly a month my body returned, but my head hasn't made it to Switzerland yet.. it will arrive in due time I guess. The lost and found hasn't yet located it.

Landing after nearly ten months on the roads isn't exactly easy...

I'm still walking around at the same paste as in India, not to mention how slow that is, have a big bright idiotic smile on my face, you know, the one that travellers have when visiting great exotic places, except that mine doesn't fit this city.. couldn't care less...

I still talk to everybody, drive people nuts in the queu for the till at supermarkets talking to the cashier.

I miss the road, though I am happy to see my beloved friends and family.

Some relationships have become akward, I must have changed a bit. Seems like some friendships are no longer ment to be and new ones are arrising....

It's funny to wake up and have tea alone at my kitchen table, having been use to sit in cafes with many strangers and discuss great matter....

I will adapt (or leave again sooner than expected).

The town seems to have changed too, or is it my perception of things?

Pumpkin seeds have dissapeared from grocery stores... have pumpkin seeds been declared dangerous from a medical study during my absence?

My sister turned up at the airport to greet me upon my arrival with a baby hanging in a piece of cloth on her chest... I asked her to return it to its mum... I missed my sister's entire pregnancy!

I came back as an aunty and my parents are now grand-parents!

I great spanish boy I met on the road said to me something as "you left the time of a gestation..."

Yes, I am reborn!!!!

In my early thirties, working in a cafe as in my teens cause I came back soooo broke..... but who cares... I am so happy...put in an office now with a serious job, my sould would die instantly.

I take the opprtunity of the first day of Hipptrip to thank deeply all those I have met on the road whom have housed me... SAM, the best house host ever in NY!!! SOPH, my soulmate from Mexico!! DUDU the saviour!! Ivory and Jonathan in SF!!! Anne, for letting me share you bed for free at the Carlton in Hawai.. and many more.

Thanks for inviting me to teach yoga in India Sudhir and Pinki, it was an immense honour.

The great time I spent in Africa with Aida and Michael, the fun times in the house of Mexico City. And all the people that have been putting up with my crap (everytime I live for long) with my boxes in their cellars or attics, you're a star Olivia, driving my to and from airport since I only cycle.... mum, you're a angel with my post. Dad, it was brilliant you took care of my flat the last month.

Line, the best parcell collector.

ALL the great yogis I met during the workshops...

YOu all, for keeping me posted with home.

THANKS TO ALL, without you, my journey wouldn't have been possible!

See you soon for more stories

Ladyjo*