PARIS-A friend who has lived and worked on three continents offered some advice when I moved to Paris for a job three years ago.
Her observation of the arc of a stint overseas was that the first year of navigating a new city, a new culture, a new language and a new job - is thrilling but challenging.
“You'll get tired,†she said. “It's exciting to live abroad but it's exhausting when everything is new. You'll want to do all kinds of things - you'll want to travel. But pace yourself. Make sure you have one day a week, or weekend, with no plans at all.â€
The second year, she continued, you'll know much better what you're doing and you'll really be able to enjoy yourself. The third year, she said, was when your thoughts start to turn to the next assignment, your next move, whether it's to another new country or back home.
All of that has been true for me. In six weeks I'll move back to New York - home. I'm looking forward to it, of course, to being back among my family and friends, celebrating American holidays, operating in my own language. But after three years, Paris has become, in its own way, also home. What will I miss?
Everything predictable: My new friends here, French and Anglo. The unparalleled beauty of the city. The ubiquitous and exquisite flower shops. Going everywhere on a bicycle - to work, to shop, out to dinner, to the movies. The ease of getting around Europe. Running on the soft paths of Luxembourg Gardens. The museums. The ballet. The American musicals at Châtelet. That gorgeous Beaux-Arts glass house on the Seine, the Grand Palais.
Did I forget food?
It's not the restaurants I'll miss most, although I certainly have some favorites - comfor table neighborhood places, some with just a few dishes on the night's menu, written on a chalkboard, the meals dependent on the available seasonal produce, the wine choices dependent on the meal.
And that produce! I love the markets- both the market street I frequent, bustling, touristy rue Cler, and the many covered markets that pop up in various neighborhoods early in the morning and pack up after lunch. The first cherry tomato I popped into my mouth in France was a revelation. Peaches are rich and velvety, chosen by the fruit sellers by feel and smell for the day you plan to eat it. Pour aujourd'hui ou demain? they ask. The soup man at the market on the Boulevard Raspail offers me tastes without being asked.
But what I will miss most about Paris is the most obvious of all. I unabashedly, unapologetically adore the Eiffel Tower. Turn a corner and it pops into view, from all kinds of unexpected places. It's always the same; it's never the same. It changes depe nding on the time of day, the weather, the vantage point, whether it's twinkling. When I've felt most defeated, and I have - by the French bureaucracy, by the language, by the distance from my loved ones, by the strangeness of having altered my life so drastically in my 50s, by the rain - the Eiffel Tower suddenly appears and I feel better. It makes you look at the sky differently.
On those unplanned days my friend had recommended, usually Sunday, I explore the city by bicycle in the morning, when the streets are empty. The church bells haven't begun to ring, but the boulangers are up. I'll miss those rides, and the quiet, and the light on the buildings, and that glorious scent of bread.
How about you? If you have been posted abroad tell us where you lived and what you miss most about it.
