The Art of Appreciation

I’ll never forget the day that I found myself completely and utterly out of my comfort zone. It was beautiful.

African music filled my ears with a note of tranquillity. A bouquet of scents from numerous cuisines permeated the Mediterranean Sea breeze... and just a rumour of the English language restrained my 14 year old self from panicking and allowed me instead to open my eyes to the wonder of my current situation.

It was dusk in Sanary and the waterfront was bustling as the summer night market began to thrive. Tourists and locals alike perused hand crafted jewellery, paintings and sculptures. Snatches of laughter and a variety of dialogues drifted from the many bars and restaurants overlooking the market and harbor. Crescent shaped and adorned with palm trees, Sanary’s esplanade stretched out to either side of where I stood in the heart of town. The beach where I had boogie boarded under a warm sun earlier could be distinguished to my left; still appealing in the dim light of the setting sun. Ahead of me lay the docks where I had previously joined fellow tourists to board a three hour cruise of the French Mediterranean Coast; picturesque but for the cheeky French youth who had glorified in the action of mooning our boat.

“Look at what they’re wearing Sarah, it’s what everyone will be wearing back home in six months time”. My father’s earlier words resonated in my ears as I took in the abundance of cropped white skinny jeans. Nothing said culture like the people surrounding me; olive skinned, dark skinned, oriental faces. Girls my age whom I could have mistaken for fellow students back home were they not eagerly chattering away in French. And I was an ingredient to the diversity. We were all so similar yet so estranged.

Later I would find my father and English relatives and return to the flat. Perhaps play an old fashioned board game and enjoy a cool drink to finish the night. Not yet though. Right now I was alone, albeit in a sea of people, in a popular yet undeniably authentic French village, Sanury-sur-Mer. In this moment I could forgot my typical teenage concerns; the scattering of pimples across my face and the fact that I missed friends back home in rural Victoria. In this moment I was worlds away even from the English culture I had been enjoying the last few weeks staying with my grandparents in Kent. In this moment, a small town in the South of France was teaching me the art of appreciation, and I exulted in it.