I'm hoping the shopping street takes credit cards — because I forgot my wallet.
The moment I told Elena that, I felt lame. In the medieval town of Sarlat-la-Canéda, I was about to spend New Year's Eve without a wallet.
Medieval town, Sarlat-la-Canéda
In the morning I drank the espresso Dominique made. They're an Italian family, so they drink coffee a lot. Black espresso. It was wonderfully delicious.
I wondered what today's plan was, and since everyone was getting ready I put on a jacket and got in the car. Apparently we were going to Sarlat-la-Canéda — a small town with a Christmas market and shopping street. I realized in the car: I had forgotten my wallet.
I had been sleeping the whole time in the car. When Elena tapped my shoulder and I opened my eyes, an amazing view spread out. Architecture like medieval Europe. Every building was so beautiful; it felt exactly like Europe.
The moment we got out of the parking lot we were covered in mud. I casually told Elena about my wallet, and she said the shops on the street would probably need euro bills. Seriously? I tried to pay with my iPhone card, but it was Quickpay-only so I couldn't use it. I felt bad and Elena paid.
"I'll pay you back later, thanks," I said, and she replied, "No, no, it's fine." Those words weakened me even more. I don't like being treated to things. Gifts make me happy, but being bought for with money really bothers me. Buying it myself makes it mine — in other words, freedom. I wanted to be independent somehow. But it was my own fault for forgetting my wallet.
We walked to many places. We went up to the top of a staircase, and when I said, "I want to jump from here," someone joked, "Then jump — you'll be the one who breaks a bone."
The Christmas market and the foie gras town
This town is famous for foie gras — there's even a bronze goose statue. I decided to buy a little chicken ornament as a souvenir.
At the Christmas market, my host's mother and Dominique were there, eating hot wine and roasted chestnuts. Dominique bought me hot wine. The roasted chestnuts were also incredibly delicious.
Every time someone did something for me or bought me something, I felt grateful and the norm of reciprocity kicked in; I thought about what I could do in return. But if that keeps piling up as a negative, it becomes stressful. I like people doing things for me, but being done too many favors makes me feel bad.
When I was looking around a shop by myself, Elena came over and looked with me. She bought a wooden notebook with 'Elena' written on it for herself. I found a ring with herbs or a plant inside — it was really beautiful. "Elena! Look at this! Isn't it so pretty? Can I buy it?" Of course I'll pay you back later.
Come to think of it, I realized that Elena and I dislike almost the same things: blue cheese, escargot, foie gras. Birds of a feather.
I wanted to eat escargot, but the first stall was sold out and the second refused. Elena seemed to like pretzels and bought one to eat. She shared some with me. I had imagined them harder, but they were surprisingly soft.
After leaving the shopping street, we wandered into cozy shops. Elena liked L'Occitane and bought a cream. I bought a L'Occitane lip balm. 1,300 yen. It smelled so good that I decided quickly.
In a country of individualism
On the drive to the supermarket, Elena and I talked at length about 'French individualism.' The meaning of my 'not caring about others' differed from Elena's 'not caring about others,' so she was eager to understand that difference.
Dominique asked me what I pictured about France. Very individualistic; they don't intrude into others' lives. If you want to do something, do it, but they'll clearly say 'that's not for me.' The food is incredibly delicious. Things aren't understood unless you say them — there's no culture of guessing.
We also talked about how hard it is to make friends in Japan. I have about 400 followers on Instagram, but I can count on maybe three to five people who are truly "friends" in the Japanese sense. Most of my friends are European.
I told them how much I love the French attitude of 'If that's how you think, that's fine. I'm different, but that doesn't mean I dislike you.' In Japan, many people cut ties when someone expresses a different opinion. France is individualistic; everyone has their own life, so there is freedom. If they disagree, they say so, but they don't hate you for it. What a wonderful culture.
Lunch was baguette. Baguette after baguette. Since coming to France I've been eating less. Elena and her mother really don't eat much, so I naturally reduced my portions too. I put Camembert on my baguette. It smelled strong. Maybe it had continued to ferment because it wasn't chilled.
I ate Roquefort for the first time in my life. It had a taste so un-cheese-like and was gooey. I had pictured blue cheese as firmer, but it was completely different. I felt sick while eating it. Once was enough. I came to dislike 'real' blue cheese.
When I asked for water, Dominique handed me tap water. Apparently tap water is drinkable in France.
Sarlat in the afternoon, again
We all returned to Sarlat. This time I had brought my wallet, so I tried to withdraw cash from an ATM but two attempts failed. Then I realized it was 00:15 on January 1 Japan time — 15 minutes after the new year. That might have been the reason.
I walked the Christmas market with Elena. Along the way a kid of about ten was playing a trumpet. We tried churros together. Elena ate a churro topped with apple-like pieces but got full halfway, so I ate the rest. What a small stomach.
A Peruvian person was selling knitted sheep ornaments. The small ones were one euro. I bought a bigger two-euro sheep. It was truly cute.
Elena bought one for herself and for a friend. She even saved the rest of her pretzel to give to her mother. When I said, 'If it were me I'd just eat it all like nothing happened,' she laughed. She really is thoughtful and warm toward her friends.
We also went to a church. It was my first time in a Christian church. Stained glass of Saint Mary, many pews — a truly sacred place. It was beautiful but somehow felt eerie.
Sitting at a café in the square with Elena, we reflected on 2022. This year was truly a year of challenge for me. After finishing university I hadn't job-hunted, so I had no work and no income. From there I started learning web development, ten hours a day for five months. It was tough, but I finally get to spend New Year's in France. I never imagined, not even a bit, that my joke to Elena about 'I want to eat your mom's genovese' would actually come true.
On the way home, Elena was playing with the sheep she bought — seeing how many could be stacked on top of each other. When they all fit, she yelled, 'Yeeeeeah!'
When we arrived home, the sunset was unbelievably beautiful. A vast land spread out in every direction. Orange streaks mixed with blue lines.
By the fireplace we named the sheep we bought. Elena named hers Zibra. I named mine Kevin — after the big-eyed bird Kevin from the movie 'Up!'. This sheep has really big eyes too and is cute. She asked, 'Did you make a wish?' but I hadn't yet. Choosing a name was all I could manage.
Since we had the chance, we decided to watch a movie. At first we watched Dominique's recommendation, but I couldn't understand French at all and lost interest, so halfway through we switched to my favorite movie 'Taxi.' Elena seemed to like Taxi — she laughed a lot during the film. That made me happy. When it comes to French movies, Taxi. It's hilarious.
New Year's Eve of foie gras and escargot
Before dinner at the apéro, we had Italian salami and Spanish Lambrusco. Dominique opened the wine and we toasted. It was so delicious and I was thirsty, so I chugged it. Dominique gestured, 'Don't chug!' He's just always full of energy.
The last meal before New Year's. An appetizer of eggs topped with mayonnaise and tuna, a seafood platter including escargot, salad, baguette, foie gras. Really a lot of dishes.
To be honest, one serving of foie gras is enough. Too much becomes overwhelming.
And then, finally, escargot. I dislike shellfish, but I wanted to try it for the experience. I ate it with mayonnaise. I held my breath partway through; if I had been breathing I might have thrown up. It was that bad. Dominique's wife ate it without issue, so I thought, 'Wow.'
I finally got to eat escargot in France. Of course it tasted bad to me. But I wanted the experience, and that alone made me happy. Dominique poured both white and red wine. I had two glasses of rosé alone. Everything was really delicious. We ate cake and tangerines.
Elena doodled on tangerines and sent them on Instagram to a friend she met in Cyprus. She's always thinking of her friends — such a warm person.
A sky full of stars, and the countdown
We went outside and looked at the starry sky. It was so, so beautiful. I never expected to see so many stars. The night sky was in full bloom, the stars were clear enough to point out which was which. Elena and I walked and talked, saying things like, 'That star is this one, right?''
I was very drunk, but the stars were so beautiful I was truly moved.
It might be the most beautiful night sky I've ever seen. From my house there are lights so you can't see many stars. At Elena's place they look at the stars from the garden in summer; it's not surprising to her, but it was special to me. I even shot some on a film camera.
It got cold outside, but it didn't feel like December 31. It's warmer than in Japan — about 12 degrees.
When we went inside, Elena was asleep on the sofa hugging a dinosaur named Vigor. She apparently loves sleeping so much she'd want to be a bed in her next life. When she first introduced herself on HelloTalk she said, 'I like writing and sleeping in bed.' Her hugging Vigor and sleeping was really cute and innocent.
Dominique suggested, 'Let's play a board game!' The game started when you rolled a six. Elena was really fast and finished first, then her mother. Dominique and I struggled to reach the goal, knocking each other back to start twice. After a close match, Dominique won by a tiny margin. I was like, 'Aaaaaah!!!' It was so much fun. Elena patted my shoulder to console me, but I'm still sore about it.
I said, 'You should pay me because I took pictures of the starry sky,' and Elena shot back, 'You should pay me because I was the model.'
30 minutes until the new year. Champagne ready. Five minutes before, we started recording a video. From 30 seconds, everyone counted down in French.
The moment it became 2023, Elena popped the champagne.
Bonne année!
