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on a train to Paris – traveling notes, #3

my daily life in Australia is empty of memory triggering places. having immersed in my past over the last two days in Angers has felt incredibly precious. each and every memory being triggered. the more mundane often being the more touching.

a roundabout at the Trélazé exit, leading to the Cholet/Niort/Poitiers road i drove so many times and at so many different hours;

a steep garage drive way going under my childhood appartment block, on which we learnt to roller skate;

the salle des sports in St Rémy la Varennes, where i trained for tennis every wednesday afternoon for a year;

the train station in Angers, the street leading to the train station in St Mathurin, the stone built platform under the bridge, the small cave next to the town hall, the road to Martigné swimming pool, the place the phone booth used to be, l’avenue Foch, le boulevard d’Arbrissel, le boulevard du Roi René.

all reminding me of both the cost and benefits of my exile. some very powerful and ambyvalent feelings, overwhelming at times.

sharing these some 30 years later with my growing children has felt incredibly precious. a pilgrimage of sorts, in a region i so often decried. they loved it. i loved it. i fell both nostalgic and very privileged.

life is a strange beast.