It’s been quite a while since I wrote something on here, and if it wasn’t for a special reason, I would have postponed it much longer I guess.

The last year and a half have been overshadowed by the pandemic, although the restrictions haven’t affected me too much. I still have my work, and I still go and travel. Without both, travelling and work, I’d be a very mad woman now.

But that’s not what I am on about.

I’m sitting somewhere in Switzerland, close to Lac Léman (Lake Geneva), commemorating an extraordinary experience I had today. I went paragliding near Verbier, and it was fabulous, albeit the reason I did it is sad.

With all my travelling I continue to meet new people here and there. A couple of years ago I booked my first Airbnb, in Ardèche, France. It was supposed to be a stopover on my way to Nice, in the very South of Provence. My host was Michèle and we became good friends. Over the years I visited regularly and we stayed in close contact inbetween. She would compliment me on my random little cycling adventures, advise me on this and that, and most of all she would give me many beautiful life lessons. Visiting her place was always magic, I loved the peaceful yet arduous mountains for cycling, the porch at night with its vast dark sky above, full of stars, and of course our talks. Michèle could listen endlessly to what I had to say and was thinking about. I could just be myself, and that was really relaxing. She was a good and kind soul with an endless knowledge about various topics. We didn’t share the same opinion about politics, but we respected each other’s views, and that is something rare these days.

During my visit in August last year she told me, she had cancer, and that it didn’t look so good, but she was determined to beat it. She made plans to visit the Loire castles after her birthday in October and Iceland in the following year, and I told her not to die on me. I really believed in her strength and her intense will to live on. She made it to the Loire castles, and I was confident, that she would recover and just be there for the years to come.

My darling friend Michèle died in February this year. I still can’t believe she is gone. For me she isn’t. Someone as special as her, with such a powerful presence and such a heartfelt radiant laughter just can’t be gone. Every now and then I feel her presence, and I hear her laughing or speaking, and it makes me both sad and happy. I am utterly sad that she died, but I am happy and grateful I got to met her.

Her ashes are spread above Lake Geneva. So today I went paragliding nearby to wave her an Au revoir, an ‘until we meet again’ (because I am sure we will). I have never done paragliding before and never intented to, until recently. It was fantastic. Mike, who I did the flight with, was super-nice and helpful, he made the whole experience very easy and special. He also took those photos below.

While I was up in the air I could hear Michèle laughing. I am sure she would have found this incredibly hilarious. It was a happy good moment up there. I shall treasure it along with my other special moments. The most precious belongings we have are good memories. I for one have been a collector ever since.

Thanks for making me fly and smile, my darling friend. I love you.