Leaving Montpellier

The last few days in France were really laid back: I spent them hanging out with friends: going to the movies, the zoo, having a sleepover (because leaving forever merits doing things you haven’t done since junior high), etc.

I had to move out of my Triolet room/closet a few days before leaving Montpellier, because in France, everything must be made thirty times more complicated than necessary. I had to clean and pack, then get my room checked by the maid, then go to the front office and get my deposit, and then go to the bank and close the account I was forced to open but never used, BUT I couldn’t do any of this on a weekend (which sucked because my train was on Sunday) because the front office would be closed and I wouldn’t get my deposit, and I couldn’t do it on Friday because the bank closes at noon and I wouldn’t have had time to get it all done.  

Luckily Emma’s host mom let me stay with them for a few nights. I had forgotten how great it is to be in an actual house until then.

Those days living out of my suitcase came and went, and then came Sunday. I got on a train with all my things, sat down, and watched Montpellier, the place I called home for almost five months, out the window for the last time.