On the little ochre table in the Bougainville, a glass of Chablis sits alongside my dreams and my notebook. Nestled between the zinc counter and the window overlooking the terrace, I cast my glance over the regulars, absorbed in their conversations. The smiles are contagious, the exchanges spirited. Around me, the hubbub of the bistro envelops me, the clinking of the glasses, the cheerful banter of the laughing Parisians… this ochre and purple cocoon cradles me. There’s an air of familiarity, of eternity, as if I could suddenly make this piece of Paris a weekly rendezvous. But I have to go back tomorrow, the post-vacation blues creeping into my thoughts. I feel a little lost at that moment, somewhat disoriented, like Bill Murray in Lost in Translation. In the street, the Parisian women seem to float above the sidewalks, a chocolate éclair in their hands. I rest my chin in my palms; I’m about to turn 40.
A terrace in Paris
Photo: © Charles Loyer
The Post-Vacation Blues: A Time for Renewal
On the other side of the window, Rue de la Banque and Passage des Petits-Pères come together. My instinct tells me to hit the pavement in the most beautiful of beautiful places: the Galerie Vivienne, which unfurls its twists and turns at the exit of the bistro. In the silence of my steps, I tell myself that at age 40, there’s no longer any question of slowing down. In the hustle and bustle of Paris, life screams at me to live, to accept the frenzy and the freedom. I go out onto Rue des Petits-Champs and stride around Paname, my head full of resolutions. What if travel, like therapy, provided some answers to better living? Does it at least accelerate this feeling? As if this adrenaline, the intensity of elsewhere, shaped us to live longer. At the approach to Rue Sainte-Anne, the terraces are overflowing, the laughter rings out, and the sidewalks are crowded… suddenly, there’s an abundance of life. I immediately wonder why this little glass of white wine from vacation wouldn’t become a post-trip ritual, just to live to be a hundred and keep a moment of Paris with me. I let myself be guided by my steps at the whim of the night, like Owen Wilson, drawn by his dreams of another time in Midnight in Paris.
But there’s also, in this return, a strange feeling of transformation. We return from a trip with fragments of our souls—pieces of ourselves that we had left elsewhere, that we hadn’t been able to see before. There’s a magic in the return. Journey after journey, I no longer find room for material souvenirs, but for dreams shared, the little ideas that are born and grow larger in silence. These are the resolutions that germinate—a promise to live each day with more attention, love, and self-care. The journey, then, is no longer a simple external adventure. It’s a movement of the heart. My steps stop; I’m under the colonnades of the garden of the Palais Royal. I remember Baudelaire’s famous quote, the one that Paris has just inspired in me: “One should always be drunk. That’s all that matters; that’s our one imperative need. So as not to feel Time’s horrible burden that breaks your shoulders and bows you down, you must get drunk without ceasing. But what with? With wine, with poetry, or with virtue, as you choose. Let yourself be carried away.”
Living Better: The Example of the Blue Zones
According to a recent study, travelling lets us slow down aging. Tourism isn’t therefore just a matter of leisure and relaxation. It might also contribute to people’s physical and mental health. When we travel, we change our habits, we push past our limits, we alter our pace… travelling better brings with it an idea of living better. And then, there are those famous blue zones, those blessed lands where longevity seems to be a way of life. In Sardinia and Okinawa, time seems to stretch out, and each daily gesture becomes a tribute to life, health, and balance.
For a long, healthy life, take a page from the Sards and combine an active lifestyle in a hilly environment, a diet rich in vegetables and antioxidants, (moderate) red wine consumption, social support that reduces stress, and a slow pace of life. This is the recipe for longevity to bring back from your travels!
Longevity and travel: a secret and subtle link? Perhaps it’s in the way we pamper ourselves, nourish our dreams, and allow our soul to slow down and savour every second? The journey therefore no longer becomes a simple exploration, but a true silent lesson, an art of living that is anchored in us, well beyond the return. True longevity isn’t measured by the years that pass, but by the way that each moment is filled, each gesture is made, and each thought is experienced. Because every journey, every return, every breath is a chance to get a little closer to yourself, to get involved more deeply in life, to love more passionately. Maybe this is the secret magic of travel: not seeking answers, but questions that nourish the soul and make it grow.
A fisher in Okinawa
Photo: © Skaterlunatic
“Journey after journey, I no longer find room for material souvenirs, but for dreams shared, the little ideas that are born and grow larger in silence.”
