Changing Countries Again

 

We change countries every few weeks or months between Geneva, Switzerland and the South of France.

Before you think we're rich, we are not. At least not rich in terms of money, but we're extremely rich in quality of life or lives.

What we've found is a way to live a dream life by not caring about having a  ton of material crap. 

I had bought my French retirement studio on my 45th birthday. It was on the 4th floor American, 3rd European. 400 years ago, it would have probably held hay for the cattle on the ground level. The cost was $10,000 cash.

It had everything I wanted and needed including a fireplace,

Fast forward to retirement, and the love of my life coming back into it.

The studio, my Nest, was too small for two. We ended up renting a larger studio in Switzerland and going back and forth. We also rented an apartment for the two of us around the corner in France. The Nest became a guest room.

In Geneva, we have never tired of the beauty. Again, we found an adorable studio that meets our needs. And when we step out the door, we have postcard views. Our village is on top of a Roman ruin. In 20 minutes we can be in downtown Geneva by car or bus.

Thursday, we made the transition again. Driving south was like driving into spring. We'd seen snow, sleet and hail the day before we left. Bad weather gave way to budding and flowering trees.

It is two different lives. Geneva is more preplanned, more formal. Its great for forcing us to do our writing. We are both writers. 

Since being back in France, we've met up with eight friends, some for coffee. We've walked to see One Life with Anthony Hopkins. The theatre is about 76 steps away. So are the butcher and green grocers and café for sitting and people watching. The two weekly marchés provide most of our needs.

Every time we change, we catch the "where-is-it?" disease. CNN is 885 in Geneva and 541 in France. Télémartin is one in Geneva,  and five in France. The remote that changes stations is black in only one country. For at least two days we grab the wrong remote.

I forget where this or that was left making cooking a challenge. And it seems to be a rule that something we need is always in the other place.

Not a complaint. In both places when I go to sleep, I think how lucky I am. I have a roof over my head. I know not only will I eat tomorrow, I've a choice for fresh veggies or any number of restaurants from simple to gourmet. No bombs are falling.  

It is an accident of birth I am where I am -- that my chance at an education and decent employment allowed me to do what I am doing. I will never stop being grateful that I was able to change continents to find the life, I think I was meant to live.

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