It’s been an interesting year, 2013. I haven’t been updating my blog due to the death of my grandfather, which was the hardest blow of 2013 and quite possibly my adult life after the passing of my Aunt in 2010. I just wasn’t able to get it up emotionally to continue writing and that’s okay. However, the posts will begin again in 2014, still with images from my travels no matter how old they are now. This one here felt appropriate to say goodbye to the year with. A single, beautiful pink tree stuck in a pot in the middle of a stone corridor, on display almost as a trophy. Not to get overly sentimental but I feel like this year was about cultivating projects and growing internally, then getting too big for ones surroundings and moving on. Now it’s time to be placed elsewhere to feel the world under your feet and plant ones roots (I told you I was going to get sappy.) I found this tree in the midst of a quick trip to Antibes, a small town in the South of France between Cannes and Marseille (way closer to Cannes). It’s the opposite direction of Monaco for those of you who are directionally challenged. The city was littered with British tourists, not surprisingly since allegedly the entire town is being taken over by Brits along with a handful of other beach towns. They need places to club, you know. I was entirely lost at this point, just wandering the quaint streets, never worrying about getting too lost because there wasn’t really anywhere to go if you strayed too far. This street was on the outskirts of the tourist epicenter, dotted with restaurants and shops that seemed a little more avant-garde than the typical oil and soap spots. While I enjoyed Antibes, I wouldn’t say it’s a must-see, but they have an incredible outdoor market with an enrapturing old man selling olives and sun dried tomatoes (my favorite) among other interactive vendors, and a Picasso museum which is pretty decent, though if you boil it down, most of Picasso’s work is all over the world. Just thinking about how much I had seen in Paris and New York alone made me skeptical about why the place was even open. But it’s a nice day trip, you don’t have to use your brain too much, and there’s a place to perch on a brick wall near the museum and eat your olives while watching the yachts and sailboats. Which is exactly what I plan on doing more of in 2014, regardless of the locale.
Cheers 2013, you were instrumental and I’m sad to see you go (not really though because life doesn’t end each year unless life actually ends.) To my Grandfather: you were the greatest, I love you.