It’s December already and to paraphrase Kate Bush, it’s magic again. No other time of year successful evokes feelings of nostalgia with a Groundhog Day approach; the same songs, the same films, the same chocolates in the shape of reindeer. Each year we welcome these aspects back like old friends, do we do it for the sake of tradition or do we take a genuine pleasure in these customs? Perhaps it’s the comfort they bring to this life which can so often be disruptive and unexpected.
I’ve never been abroad at this time of year before. I no longer hear those familiar songs on the radio, I haven’t come across any of those films on the television yet, I see those same chocolates but with foreign writing on the packaging. Like a parallel realm where everything has shifted slightly, it feels a bit like a normal December, but not quite. It’ll be magic again soon though.
Happenings in November:
- My friend’s twenty first birthday party; a bunch of international students dancing in her little loft room, drunk on French wine and beer.
- A rainy visit to Luxembourg. It was worth the trip, but I wouldn’t go back.
- Wandering around an art gallery with Annie, trying to get over our collective homesickness and sadness.
- Walked the full length of the beach in Dunkirk so we could get to the mysterious mirrored bunker I had heard of, and being mesmerised when we got there. Walking all that way meant we missed our train home, and had to kill an hour drinking hot chocolates in Subway as the wind blew violently outside.
- Paying a visit to the Christmas Markets on a Wednesday afternoon, and soon realising that they are much more enjoyable at night time.
- Watching the snow fall outside on the last day of November as me and Annie made and ate tartiflette in my kitchen. The snow kept falling as November turned into December.
Home time soon.
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