Monday, January 14, 2013

The romance in traveling

Dear readers,
I keep trying to name you in my head but I always come back to readers. Which is perfect because I adore reading, and feel deeply connected to people who read, and love reading as much as I do. So I like to call you readers, I hope you don't mind. It's not that I think you're my readers or anything like that. Just readers, that's all.

Now that I'm past that introduction, I've been thinking more and more about traveling. It's something I really really want to do. I'm itchy to do it, to the point where sometimes I suggest to my husband he can be a photographer anywhere and we should just up and move, to let's say England.

But today I'm thinking of Versailles, and how I want to be there more than anything right now. Spring in Versailles, how marvelous would that be? I'm a big fan of spring, it never disappoints, if there is warmth and rain, the flowers bloom, and I've always heard there's no place like spring in Paris, except spring in Versailles.

I took French, forever ago in elementary school, but I feel like if I took a refresher course, or bought a phrase book, it would all come back to me, it was something I loved. I think that's what I'll do this spring, reteach myself French. I can still say the alphabet, hello, how are you and my name is along with some random phrases. So that's something right

Because someday I have great plans to spend a long holiday in Versailles, wandering around in floral dresses and white converse, with a satchel filled only with a book a snack and water. Of showing my son where Marie Antoinette took her children to play, and the old stone houses. Of finding a tree to spread out under and have a picnic, watching the bees fly around lazily, never mind that I'm terrified of them, and am deathly allergic.

I dream of ignoring everyone for the scenery and my book, to have grand romantic dates on the balcony with my husband while our son sleeps. To be decadently, hedonistically lazy, instead of my usual I can't be, won't be, bothered sort of lazy. To lounge around in long gauzy maxi dresses, watching my child and husband play at being knights, or whatever.

No electronics, save something to play music, but not the harsh music I often listen too, but softer slower music, like Lenka, and an old television for my son to watch cartoons while his parents sleep in or make breakfast, and my nook so I can carry hundreds of books with me always.

It'd be the perfect dream vacation that I'd never want to come home from. One that would leave me recharged and filled with intentions to do things, that once back in the states I'd forget all about.

Doesn't that sound wonderful readers? For now though, I'll focus on stocking up on pretty floral dresses, finding all the best shades of pink and peach nail polish, Chanel has a great pinky coral out this season, and the best light not there but still perfect makeup. And reading, I plan to read so many books this spring. Maybe I'll even buy a few real books, along with nook books. I want to read flippy little romances that don't really have to do with anything. I don't mean hardcore romance novels, that are essentially porn, I mean flippy little books about finding love. Any good recommendations?