Hanging out in Dijon, the home of mustard (and for now me)

I have been thinking a lot lately about the choices we make and how they effect our lives. I am a firm believer that many of the things that happen and places we end up are because we have propelled ourselves forward in that direction. Sometimes I find myself somewhere, and find myself thinking "How on earth did I get here?" only to remember that I got here because thats where I put myself in life. I've had so many moment like this over my life. I remember when I first moved to Melbourne wondering why I had left my home and my boyfriends, to move to another state where I knew no one. Why was I there? Because I had chosen to be there! Something in me knew that packing up my life and moving it to a new city so I could become a pastry chef was the best thing for me at that time, and it was.

Today I had a similar experience as I got off a train into the cold misty air in a village out of Paris. I had no idea where I was, or what I was doing there. I had simply googled trains that would take me out of Paris and near the wine region that I vaguely remember an ex boyfriend who was a wine maker telling me about. This was not a lot to go on and when I arrived I felt very unsure as to what I was doing here. On the train we went through beautiful country that looked sunny and warm but the closer I got to my destination the colder it became. All the fields where white with frost and snow near the station, and when I got off the train I became quickly aware that I should not have just worn a short sleeve shirt, jeans and a jacket.

I checked into my accommodation which is a beautiful eco friendly little cottage in the middle of the town and went for a walk around. It was Sunday and nearly everything was closed. I was once again struck with the question of what I was doing here, but pushed on through the town, exploring and stopping for lunch.

The thing is, Paris made sense. Of course a pastry chef would go to Paris. Staying with backpackers made sense, even my little apartment near the Moulin Rouge made sense. Here however, in a freezing village in the middle of no where, alone, where no one spoke english made no sense. So what I had to do was trust. I had to put faith in myself that I had come here for a reason, and deep down I knew I had.

So many people in Paris have questioned me about traveling alone, and mostly I can brush it off by telling them I am just on an adventure. I know however that I came here for a reason. That workaholic, busy, social me, needed some time to process a few things. Maybe I just read 'Eat, Pray, Love' too many times, but taking myself away to a tiny village in France seemed like the perfect way to sort out my heart, and have time to think about some things I have been putting off for a long time.

So here I am. Walking around the freezing streets, that are just so beautiful, and just enjoying the fact that I am 25, and may never ever get to stay in a cottage alone in France. Who knows what life will bring next, or where I choose to go. So for now, I'm just going to enjoy having no responsibilities in the middle of nowhere, with just me.