Le Mois du Janvier à Deauville, Trouville-sur-Mer, France / by Sarah Landolt

I arrived in Deauville late in the evening on Sunday night, after spending 2 days in Paris. It had been four years since I left France and, just as you can revert back to who you were as a teenager when you hang out with high school friends, I was reminded of who I was when I was 25 when I left Europe—and it was introspectively humbling, partly painful, but mainly, being back in France felt oddly natural, as if no time had passed at all. I just picked up where i left off—which is both a great and challenging aspect, as I prefer to move forward, concentrating on the future and not my past. I love other people's histories, but I don't want to be forced to confront my own. 

The beach truly has magical powers that melt away any sort of malaise. I now understand all the poems and songs written about the sea. I comprehend the truths of that excruciatingly cliché statement that is most likely written on a mass produced piece of artwork in TJ Maxx right now-- that statement about all ailments being cured by salt water: sweat, tears and the ocean. I have in fact experienced all 3 at the same time since I’ve been here :  running on the boardwalk by the ocean and a few tears falling, in the best way possible— tears of joy.

Apart from the sea, I’m also extremely joyful to just be in Deauville and to be back in France. To be walking everywhere. To be serenaded by the seagulls daily. Going to the bakery daily. SPEAKING FRENCH. Being 2 hours away from Paris. Watching “Fais pa ci, fais pa ca” on Netflix. Having endless sweet treats. Macaroons. Train rides. Tax included in the price. Going to the market. Talking to store owners. Going to tea shops. Reading Camus. Normandy Dairy Products. Riding the bicycle from the Mayor’s office to St. Arnault. The winter “Soldes” in all the shops. The coffees had on the terrace in the sun. I am, as I often say, “très, très contente d’être là.” 

As for the rest of my thoughts/ experiences, I will let the pictures explain. I’ve always been a person who expresses myself visually, and I would much rather let the image talk than let me explain. So, get ready for a novel of images, and I hope you see what I read/ I hope you read what I saw: