Antibes smells like the marina – my favorite smell – fishy, fresh. The waves, violent, crashing. The air is light. The bustling streets surprising for this time of year (February). It’s Saturday night, and I am all alone.

Walking along the waterfront, enjoying the familiar sensations of the sea. Families, babies, dogs on walks. Flowers. It’s dark when I reach Old Town.

A lit-up ferris wheel and two teens, in lust or love. An English language bookstore. Clutching a warm baguette to myself, meandering through the streets after sun set. Spontaneously stopping for a bag of strawberry meringues.

Both the baguette and contents of the bag of meringues, gone before bedtime.

My room is small, but it’s all that I need.

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