“I could live here” I thought, as I sat on a low stone wall, looking out past the church steeple to the sweeping green hills beyond it; tiny pebbles crunching underfoot.

Yes, I happened to be sitting all alone in a graveyard in a tiny village in northern France…but that’s a minor detail.

How did I get there?

First let me begin here…Two years ago I had the opportunity to travel to England rather last minute for a conference. I flew into London, spent the night, then took a train up to Yorkshire for several days for the conference. Then I trained back down to London where I spent a number of days enjoying the city since I was already all the way over there.

I went alone on the trip and didn’t know anyone at the conference I was going to; or in the country for that matter. But none of that bothered me.

Before I left, one of my girlfriends told me how brave I was.

Brave? Why?

What’s so brave about going on a splendid adventure to a country I’ve visited before…and where they speak English to boot?

Still, she couldn’t believe I was doing it…alone.

The first time I traveled anywhere overseas alone was during my very first trip overseas when I was in my mid-20s. I went with a friend to Ireland for a week and then I left her and jaunted over to London for a few days before taking the Eurostar through the Chunnel to Paris.

England is not exactly a scary place to travel to alone but still, it was a wonderful and enlightening experience to be there on my own. Growing up I had a big interest in British culture…England especially…and I fell in love with it on my first trip there.

To me, there’s something wonderful about arriving in a country you’ve never been to and having to figure it all out on your own.  

Transport, money exchange, finding the hotel, learning to navigate the underground, finding your way around the city to all the places you want to visit, finding places to eat. It was fantastic and I loved it!

Traveling on my own, especially to another country, reminds me that I am brave, strong, and competent. I can handle it.

Since that first trip, I’ve gotten to travel overseas a couple more times on my own and I always enjoy it. It’s great to explore new areas and find your way around a large city in another language, too, when the opportunity arises.

Now back to that graveyard…

That was my first trip to France. I was staying with a friend and her husband, who were both working during the week. So I was on my own each day to explore Paris for the first time.

I decided to take the train to the small village of Giverny to see Monet’s home and extensive gardens.

I negotiated buying my ticket, speaking solely in French, and took the hour long train trip 46 miles north west from Paris to Vernon; and from there a short bus ride to Giverny which is nestled in the Upper Normandy region. Giverny has approximately 500 residents and there are many gorgeous stone homes with so much history.

I spent the entire day in the village. Lots of time in Monet’s gardens. I also ate lunch at a small café and had the best homemade pistachio ice cream I’ve ever eaten, from a local selling it on the side of the road. And I spent plenty of time wandering around the village before heading back to Paris in the evening.

That’s how I found my way to the small church and the graveyard perched on a hill right behind it.

As I sat in that graveyard I thought to myself, I could live here; I would love to live in one of these old stone homes and become more fluent in French and get to know my neighbors.

Fast forward to today, years later. My husband and I both love France and we do want to move to the country at some point. But I quite like that fact that even though I have enjoyed trips to France with Joel, I first got to begin to discover the country on my own, before I ever knew him.

I decided on my own that I wanted to live in the French countryside long before we ever decided it together.

And that makes me smile.

So please, think twice before passing up the opportunity to travel. Even if you’re alone! You never know what you’ll discover about yourself while you’re discovering a new city.

*The picture above is from that very grave yard in Giverny. Although I have a photo just like it, this picture is one that I found online, since all of my pictures from that trip are on this very old thing called film. 😉