Sometimes All You Need To Do Is Say Hello

 

4/04/2025 - 5/04/2025

Observing the intricacies of French neo-classical painting in Le Musée Fabre, I sat alone on the black leather bench, pondering the direction of not only the rest of my day, but as I often do, the direction of my life in general. The past month I have spent more time by myself than any month in my life. I am used to being alone. Contemplating, reflecting, fantasising, dreaming of the future; key parts of my daily life now. While the things I glean from these long periods of time alone are incredibly powerful and significant, I cannot truly say that solitude is my preferred state of being. As much as I enjoy the time alone and often yearn for it, interactions with other humans are what gives me energy in my life. Classic extrovert behaviour it seems. 

I arrived in Montpellier, my first destination in France, ready for a little alone time following a social few days in Barcelona. Wandering the wiggly, winding streets of the beautiful city in the South of France, I gorged on pastries, baguettes, and cheese, admiring the ornate architecture. Reading, reflecting and walking took up the rest of the day, as they often do during these stints of my journey by myself. I felt comfortable being alone that first day in Montpellier. However, like many feelings, this soon passed. 

The following day, I started my morning by speaking to my parents and Sarah, confiding that I felt a little off. A coffee and pain au chocolat eased this feeling partially before I arrived at Le Musée Fabre to further my growing appreciation for art and sculpture. Meandering around the ground floor of the museum, I enjoyed the numerous Dutch and French paintings, but I could not shake a somewhat frequent feeling I've experienced the past month. As much I revel in experiencing new things, I wish I had someone by my side in these moments to share that experience with. In the cavernous grand room on the museum's first floor, I sat down on the black leather bench as these thoughts raced through my head. Suddenly, my ears pricked up. "Was that English?", I asked myself, swearing I heard my native tongue. I looked around and saw two girls, and low and behold, they were speaking English. A rarity following a day and half of hearing pretty much exclusively French being spoken. 

As I got up and examined some more art, I slightly eavesdropped on the two girls. "You should talk to them", a voice in my head whispered. Ok, maybe I should, I thought. A few minutes passed as I thought how best to approach this situation. I was super conscious to not be that weird guy that approaches random girls in public, but really I wanted to talk to someone. More minutes ticked away as I willed myself to bite the bullet and strike up a conversation. My shyness continued to overpower my desire for social connection. As I pretended to look at the art, the three of us moved from room to room, me subtly (probably not) shadowing them. One of them made a funny quip and I thought "there you go mate, jump in with something now." Of course, knowing me, I did not seize this opportunity. As time marched on, my heart racing, I FINALLY summoned the courage to insert myself into their conversation. "Wow these look like they're unfinished" one of the girls said to the other. With zero grace and charm, I said "Oh damn, are these ones not finished?". My question was answered, and the conversation began to take hold. I will give myself a little bit of credit, once I do start talking to someone, I can hold a pretty decent conversation. It's just that initial hurdle that is hard to jump. 

Introducing myself, the girls told me their names; Alice and Anna from the UK and the US respectively. Anna living in London and Alice living in France. Confiding that I had no further plans the rest of the day, they invited me out for an aperol spritz. One aperol spritz quickly turned into a jug of sangria, and as the drinks flowed, so too did the conversation. Learning more about Anna and Alice, as well as rambling about all the various things I like to ramble about, we arrived in a park, overlooking the city, two bottles of French red wine in hand, along with a baguette, cheese and olives. Somehow I had not scared them off yet. Our life experiences, goals, dreams, thoughts on time travel, clones, desert island discs, third spaces and masculinity were shared before we topped up on wine and bread (and tomatoes - yes Mum, I'm eating some vegetables) and watched the sun set on quite frankly, one of the best days of my journey. 

Our instagrams swapped, we parted ways at the train station, promising to meet again when I make my way to London in a few months. I walked back to my hostel, a broad smile developing over my face. Was it the wine? Possibly, but I had a feeling it wasn't. Alone again. But somehow, this felt different than the solitude of the morning. Anna and Alice, thank you for talking to the weird guy by himself at the museum. See you soon.