So this is it. It's our last night in Port Vendres. As I stand at the open French windows, looking out at the darkened landscape with the wild sky above, I feel that it all speaks to me. It is as if the small, picturesque village disappears in front of my eyes and I'm travelling back in time when this place was more violent and unsafe than it is now, when people travelled unseen amongst the mountains, but watched the same sky and stars and sea as I do today.
It worries me that we have to leave my mother-in-law on her own, without any daily help, but I'm happy that my father-in-law is so much better now, that the chemo-therapy seems to have some positive effect.
Tomorrow we'll take the night-train that leaves for Paris and then we'll meet my husbands aunt and cousin. We will see the Eiffel tower, something that I've dreamed about since I was sixteen and me and my best friend longed to go back-packing throughout Europe.
I haven't been able to write anything, and Henry has been understanding, but he's a bit restless now. It's fascinating how he's always in the back of my mind, but he's such a strong personality that I'm not really surprised. Miriam was never this demanding back then, but she might change to next book, and Carl... well... he can't complain since I wrote his book in only four months - and now he's laughing kindly at me as I'm writing this. I love my characters. I love their strengths and their flaws, and it excites me to discover new things about them. Though I'm really sad leaving France and my wonderful parents-in-law, I'm also eager getting home so I can continue writing.
It's been an unforgettable time, but my every-day-life is waiting for me.