The Trek Ahead: From the Ariège Pyrénées to Mongolia

The idea of ‘leaving it all behind’, going to live in the sun, giving up the rat race, jumping off the merry go round and living full time in one of the warmer climates of southern France, Spain or Italy is a dream for many people born in the northern European countries. I’ve loved France since I first went there in late teens and the pull has always been strong to go and live there. Compared to the tiny island of Ireland, the country in enormous, with distinct areas, vast differences between them. And everywhere, that marvelous French cuisine.

In 2002, on a cold, rainy November morning on Ireland’s east coast, as I was about to go to work, my dream became a reality. It began with a curious incident; Larry spoke. It was just after seven and his speaking at this early hour was unheard of. What he said stopped me in my tracks, made me wonder if he was awake, or dreaming, talking in his sleep.

'I’m phoning France today, about that house you loved; the one painted in those wild colors. You said it was perfect, you wanted to stay there. I’m going to buy it.' That little speech remains one of the most electrifying I have ever heard in my life.

Later that morning, my office phone rang and Larry, without any preamble, told me he had bought the little house I had fallen in love with, was putting his on the market straight away, casually adding that we could move to France for good the following April. Six weeks earlier, in a part of France neither of us knew, we had been captivated by the Ariège Pyrénées and now, I had a chance to go and live there.

In a French village perched on a hill, in a house with a higgledy-piggledy layout, bright red tiled roof and enchanting garden. A flight of steps led up to an extra room where an internationally famous artist had worked. A room of one’s own; a writing room, the place I would begin another dream.

A warm glow enveloped me. My head was full of thoughts; I will never have to work again. Never have to set the alarm clock. Never have to waste time in traffic going to and from the office. No more meeting deadlines, achieving budgets. I will never have to attend another meeting, nor listen to people giving their opinions etc...

Now, race forward seven years and I, while enjoying it all; the weather, the lunches, the dinners, the endless festivals, had begun to feel like a slug. Yes I had written about life here for various print and web based newspapers and magazines, championing life in the foothills of the Pyrénées. What’s not to like, you may ask? And I cannot say, except to explain that there were days when I wanted deadlines, goals, targets, and even meetings, even if the other person thought me quite mad.

When two people walk off hand in hand into the sunshine, life can throw up some questions. In our case, one of us appeared to settle into this life with a quiet gusto, and the question ‘will it be tea, coffee or hot chocolate for breakfast’ appeared to be enough. For me, if I live to be 100, this will never be enough.

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Relationships and Going Places, Moving and Retirement, Meeting Places and Romance, Travel, Senior Women Web, Articles, Jane Shortall

The Trek Ahead: From the Ariège Pyrénées to Mongolia

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