Plan B

This is the eighth of nine installments in the series about my journey to France to make my dreams come true. You can read the first one here or follow this to see past posts. https://wordsworthywriting.wordpress.com/2023/08/28/how-it-began-my-journey-to-make-my-dreams-a-reality/ 

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People called me brave when I announced my plans. What I think they really meant was stupid. In hindsight, that’s exactly what I was. Without having all my ducks in a row, I left the US. I got rid of 85% of my belongings with the remaining 15% of ‘stuff’ occupying a 5×5 storage space in Bend, waiting to be shipped to Europe where I planned to buy a house I’d never seen. So here I was, in an uninteresting town, in nowhere France, renting the house I wanted to buy, my entire life in limbo, and my future dependent upon one last hope bank. I didn’t know what I’d do if I was denied again. I didn’t have a long-term visa in order to stay longer and look for something else, not even in another EU country. I really didn’t know what else to do. There’s an innate fear that manifests when one is lost and that’s exactly how I felt, lost. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, and I was scared. That’s such a foreign feeling for me. I’m a decision-maker. A do-er. I don’t get scared. It actually took me a while to recognize that feeling. Wow! 

On my birthday the third and final loan rejection came. A friend texted me “Happy Birthday.” I replied, “Thanks. Is it ok to cry on my birthday?” I had so much hope and emotion wrapped up in this house. In this dream. Now the door is shut on it and I still didn’t have a Plan B. What I need is time. Time to think. Time to breathe. Time to generate an ESL student clientele and create income. Time to figure out the next step, Plan C. Or, to put it better, time to allow Plan C to reveal itself to me. While in theory I could go back to the US, I still couldn’t afford a house there and that’s the whole reason I left. Much of the rest of the world was affordable when it came to housing and overall cost of living. Plus, I have nothing to go back to. I have nowhere to go, no job, no place to live, no car, no bed, no anything. It doesn’t seem to matter where I am so why not stay abroad since it is a much lower cost of living and more central to the rest of the world?

There are a couple other factors to this equation that are weighing on me as well. One, is that I still need to get my dog from my former. While both of us would like him to keep her (she loves him way more than she loves me), it’s not something he is in a position to do. So I need to get her back. Plus, I miss her.

Two, is that I made a commitment to my sister to take our dad. He moved in with her a little over a year ago and it’s taking a toll on her. While he’s still in relatively good health and somewhat independent, at 88, dementia is creeping in and he needs to have a routine and his meals prepared for him. Plus, he’s stubborn, and she just doesn’t have the time. Once I’m settled somewhere that won’t be a problem, I’ll be in a better position to care for him and I’ll be around more. The B&B would have been a perfect situation but, now that that’s off the table, I need time. One year is exactly what I need. Soooo…

Hello Georgia! 

One can stay a year without any special visa. From everything I’ve read, it seems like a great country. I can be vegetarian/vegan without a problem, people are friendly, it’s safe and, best of all, there are mountains, rivers and, lakes! Plus it’s affordable! Not to buy a house but to live for a while without burning through my life’s savings. 

I bought a plane ticket, reserved hostel rooms, and gave myself a few weeks to get situated. Scott agreed to have a stopover in MD to get my dad on his way to bring my dog to me. I’ll meet them in Paris, we’ll spend a few days exploring the city, then fly to Georgia. Tickets were purchased, reservations made, everything was ready to go. Except for my bike. 

While it sounds simple, I was feeling angst about the whole thing. How was I going to get my bike there? Would I make enough teaching online that I’d be able to add to my savings, or would I continue to drain it? I knew it’d take a while to build up a steady client base. And where would I go in a year? I could extend the visa for a while but what after that? What about my dad? Moving him again isn’t really going to be an option. This was all still so temporary and I wanted to be settled. It’s why I left Oregon, to settle somewhere. While I’m not a religious person, I do believe in a higher power. I decided to pray. I prayed in my bedroom in Riberac. I prayed at the kitchen table. I prayed on my knees in a church in Vienna. I prayed for direction. I asked how I could serve Him. I prayed for clarification. I asked for guidance. I told God to speak to me, loudly and clearly, as I’m not good with subtleties. 

Two days after I returned from my trip to Vienna, I received an email…