The End

This is my last blog posting for MancinFrance. It's almost eight o'clock on our last day and we're exhausted after days of packing and cleaning. Still we managed a final walk to the lake and lunch on the terrace in the sun. In the first posting - back in freezing January, I asked why we were here - [appropriately existentially n'est ce pas?] and so now I suppose, is the time to see if I've discovered any kind of answer. The best I can come up with is that I wanted to change - not too much, but a bit, to rearrange the molecules, to give myself the shock of the new. I think it's hard to change by will, by decision alone, so you have to change your situation, and let it change you.

Has the shock of the new thing worked? Yes, a bit, I think. My French is better - I can now understand about half of what people say to me - as opposed to about 10%. I've had three of four conversations in French in the last few days and didn't panic or gawp, open-mouthed, just carried on blagging Frenchily and hoping for the best. It seems to work. When I walk through the village in the late afternoon, I say bonjour to more people. Dogs still bark but not as loudly. I've written a lot and sent a lot of stuff off to competitions/publishers.I do feel a bit braver, fitter, younger. I've walked hundreds of miles. I've swum in a lake. I've shot lots of rapids on the Dordogne.

Something else I've become more interested in as the year has gone on - nationality. Here I feel more connected to Europe, yet not exactly European. Englishness/Frenchness - what does it mean? If I'm English - and I am - how do I know? If Englishness is about place, home, language, history, familiarity, what can we be proud of? What should we celebrate? What should we love?

And now I'm finding it hard to end - to finish writing - to leave. I hate long drawn out goodbyes. So here it is. A short sharp one.

Goodbye to all of you who've read this - thank you so much for being with us here. If you want to say goodbye too, it would be good to get a final comment from you - to know you were still there. I'd love to know what you think about this Englishness/nationality business.

Goodbye to our petite chatte, Cleo, who won't be coming home with us but who loved it here.

And goodbye to beautiful La Roche Canillac. To all the kind and friendly people we've met.

Goodbye to the trees, the birds, the mists in the valley, the brilliant stars.

- a bientôt.
Heather