By: Semiramis Zaldívar Ramírez

I write these words as I walk to the airport, immersed in a sea of ​​tears, snot and sobs. This dream trip is coming to an end, and the worst of all is that I lost my beloved “blanket” while she was walking to the bus. Yes, I have cried profusely throughout this journey, but until today, my tears were of happiness, satisfaction, and pride. Now, nostalgia and sadness flood me.

My “blanket” was not a simple scarf; In reality, she was a great companion who had served as a refuge for me for six years, since my first solo trip through Europe, specifically in Ghent, Belgium. When I got to this side of the pond, I wondered how the girls managed to wear dresses in temperatures ranging from 6° to 10°. The answer was clear: they were all European and always had a gigantic scarf by their side. Since I couldn’t change my origin, I decided to find a scarf for myself. Although I never got to wear a dress in the middle of winter, that scarf embraced me with its warmth and softness from that first trip, and it did so on all subsequent trips, every time the cold hit.

I never thought I would cry so much over the loss of an object, although it is true that on this trip I have already lost my sunglasses and my hairbrush. But my “blanket” is not just any object; She is loaded with memories and experiences. I lost her in the most absurd way possible, on my last day in Rouen, while walking alone through the quiet streets of the city. I didn’t notice when she slipped from my hands, and when I finally did, it was too late. If I went back to look for her, I would miss the bus that would take me to the Paris airport. So I cried like a child who loses her beloved object of comfort. And when the cold of the morning set in, I cried even more, because my scarf always protected me from the cold. I reproached myself for not putting it in a bag and for not being able to go back for it.

This cry is also a farewell to Rouen, a city in which stories seem to repeat themselves over and over again, full of joy, love and drama. I try to find meaning in the loss of my “blanket,” as if a part of me should stay here to give me a reason to return once again, continue the old melodramatic stories and write new joy-filled adventures.

I imagine this scene as something straight out of a French melodramatic film: me, walking in the darkness of the historic center of Rouen, dragging my suitcase, with the sound of the wheels on the cobblestone streets as my only company. Suddenly, without realizing it, my “blanket” falls to the floor, taking away its heat and the aroma of Turkish perfume that always comforted me. I continue walking, trying to find my way through the streets, with my backpack, my lunch bag and my suitcase full of dirty clothes and souvenirs, thinking about everything I leave behind in this city. Without knowing that I have left a tribute, an anchor that awaits my return.

According to me, this was my last trip to Rouen, but it seems that it is impossible to say goodbye definitively here, I can only say “see you soon”. Maybe I will have to return one day, because this city seems to hold me somehow, like a magnet that draws me in again and again. And who knows, maybe on my next visit I can complete my French movie scene with a passionate kiss or a wild adventure. So much pee!

The post See you soon Rouen, France first appeared on Alan x el Mundo.

The post See you soon Rouen, France appeared first on Alan x el Mundo.


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