I have got two weeks left in France. I feel like dropping to the floor, banging my fists and screaming. On the other hand… (no, I won’t say it will be good to get home) I have spent almost nine wonderful months here. It has, without question, been the best time in my life, and I feel I have changed for the better. I much prefer the French me to the Norwegian me, people here are so different from at home, and I feel different too. I finally feel like my…mentality fits in with everybody else’s.

I’m even starting to speak French! Not very much, and not very well, but I understand, and I can make myself understood. I don’t go “Parlez-vous anglais?” anymore, which, in itself, is a victory.

But it’s sad to leave now that summer is coming. I’ve seen Paris in autumn, winter and spring, and I’ll just get a look at summer before I leave. I know I should do all the ‘touristy’ things before I leave, I should see the famous places, and I’m getting around to it, but I just love to walk around, discovering new places, new funny shops. Walking along the Seine, trying to get past the tourists on the Rue de Rivoli, especially across from the Louvre when I’m trying to get to W.H. Smith. I gave up. Started going to Gibert Jeune instead. Visiting my favourite crepe stall near St. Michel… It’ll all be a huge mix of memories. Good memories.