France (the Others)

It's going to happen, Internet, and soon.
Maybe it's too soon. I barely know the language, and a lump rises in my throat at the very thought of leaving everyone I love for so long.

 Recently,  I was discussing my definite plans for going over to France for five-and-a-half months, and she asked me why. I hesitated for a moment, because it really was such an obvious question that I just presumed everyone knew why I was going. To study, to learn, have fun, expand my views on the world, blah-bla-blaaaaah..
But behind the lump of sadness (great personification, there Ell, really well done) there is a knot, a clique, a nexus, a spiral, a pack, a gathering, a tumour of something that makes me want to catch the nearest train out to anywhere. That may be part of the reason why I want to travel.

Here are the Others: 

• Ride a scooter down the Champs-Élysées 
• Feel that tingle down my spine as the Mona Lisa herself smiles at me
• Nearly crack my neck trying to see all of  Château du Versailles at once
• Speak really terrible English because I have only been talking in French
• Ski down the back of the Alps
• Open those doors on the windows that only France seems to have
• Ride a hot air balloon across a sea of lavender
• Dodge the infamous load of dog-poop that is apparently *all* over Paris (this is from my Uncle, btw)
• Hold hands under the Eiffel Tower
• Eat a multi-coloured macaroon 
• And it's not stopping there

• Love Ell x