I find myself comparing the landscapes here in Bourgogne to those back in New Zealand. Although, surely, that is the fate of the wanderer. I find myself always layering memories of places I've lived or visited over where ever I am in the now. Looking for some kind of 'fit' or familarity.
Some mornings I wake up in Antwerp and I smell that particular smell, that heavy-traffic pollution smell, first discovered in Los Angeles, a familiar scent back in Istanbul and now, oftentimes, there it is in Antwerp.
Here in Bourgogne it is the geography ... the lay of the land. The vineyards that run as far as the eye can see, the hills, the lush fields. The air is good. And somehow the cloud formations make me imagine the coast or a huge lake is somewhere close by. It's big sky country where we are.
Chateaus and castles are everywhere. Sunday was spent wandering le Château de Cormatin. Rather exquisite it was ... no echoes of 'home'. It was particular and surely an example of 'someplace else'. Unimagined. Unknown.
Evenings, and I've been relaxing with a short tv series out of New Zealand, Top of the Lake. A Jane Campion creation. I'm hooked but find the storyline disturbing. However the scenery is so beautifully familiar. Two episodes to go ... Salon.com has promised a 'superb finale'. Let's see how that goes.
And now? Sunshine and Bourgogne are calling me.
Off and wandering.
