It is 5am, in Bordeaux, France, where I sit writing.
I was not supposed to be here. I left my ship in Iceland two
weeks ago for what was supposed to be the last time, for the third last time.
And yet here I sit, having just flown back from LA.
I am an addict. I am a ship life addict. I have had a
terrible relapse this year.
As I sit in my cabin, waiting for dawn so I can walk the
banks of the river and perhaps pick up some café coffee, I thought I would tell
you what it is like to be a rock star. (Not that I actually know… but bear with
me.)
One of the glorious appealing things about ship life is the
welcome upon your return. I received an email, two days before my arrival,
welcoming back and informing me that the red carpet had been cleaned for my
arrival. (This was from my bosses’ boss. Someone who should basically only know
my name… but the ship is small and my laugh is large.)
Upon return, you are literally welcomed with open arms by
everyone you pass. You feel like returning
royalty. Perhaps you are tempted to think there is something special about me that makes people welcome me with open arms. There isn't. This is just the way it is.
For me, the hugs of welcome are generally followed by, “I need your help with…” but that does not make me feel less loved. Perhaps it makes me feel more so because I feel useful and needed.
For me, the hugs of welcome are generally followed by, “I need your help with…” but that does not make me feel less loved. Perhaps it makes me feel more so because I feel useful and needed.
As I walked through the corridors last night, hugging
people, getting made fun of by my family for returning so quickly and my signature laugh, I knew I was home.
What is perhaps hardest about this, is this time, I really
do think it is the last time.
Cool: Home, on a ship, in Bordeaux, France with the love of
friends and the love of colleagues.
Stupid: Knowing that for me, this comfortable amazing place,
with people I love, is not the foundation for a better tomorrow and that it is,
in fact, time to go.
P.S. As I walked through my masters’ graduation two days ago,
in my brief, twelve-day whirlwind through home, I was stunned to find out how
many people were reading my posts. In my last hurrah, I do hope to share with
everyone more stupid things and cool things of ship life.
Pictures from a rainy Bordeaux morning:
Pictures from a rainy Bordeaux morning:
No comments:
Post a Comment