metz and me: a winter clunker’s dream(or nightmare?)
woke up to realize i nodded off again during the bus ride from nancy to metz. bless the melatonin. it’s 7.05°c out there right now, and i’m sipping lukewarm tea in a café that smells like bread and regret. the kind of cold where your fingers go numb faster than you can say ‘this is fine.’ but hey, i’m here. i wanted to see that old cathedral with the weird architecture and whatever poetry magazine i bought in lyon will finally make sense.
someone told me the central market here is a chaos of winter veg and aggressive vendors. i heard that too. turns out true. i almost bought a squash that was clearly a potato in disguise. but then this old man with a crooked smile said, ‘nope, that’s a squash. don’t be a hippie and second-guess life.’ i believed him. probably.
the neighbors? if you get bored, lille or Nancy are just a short drive away. don’t quote me. i’m not a navigator. the GPS hates me. but really, the town itself? it’s got this vibe where people don’t care if you ask directions and then forget your own name ten minutes later. like it’s all part of the charm. or maybe it’s the beer. the cheap beer. the bitter beer. the one that tastes like fought-up germs.
the weather’s all over the place. i checked. it’s that one of those days where the wind is biting and the sun pretends it’s not there. feel like a character in a french noir film. except instead of rain, it’s these clouds that look like they were painted by someone who snorted pastel paint. i’m not complaining though. not today.
overheard some folks at the café yesterday. a tourist woman said something about the теraces the locals take. not the ones you see on the cobblestones, the real ones. the ones that make you question your life choices. i heard that the hostel across the street has a ghost problem. or maybe that was my sleep-deprived brain making connections. who knows.
here’s where i probably burned a thought process: https://www.tripadvisor.com/ MetzTravel - for hostels that don’t make you feel like a lab rat. https://www.yelp.com/ Metz-Café-the best for steamed buns that actually taste like home. https://metz-tourism.com/local-weather - because i’m lazy and the app crashed.
[img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1637054791007-46011a25e835?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt='cozy café in Metz with signage in French' width='100%']
[img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1569225883077-ae8e5ba3f945?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt='sunlight reflecting off a rain-soaked street' width='100%']
[img src="https://images.unsplash.com/photo-1622373594208-5993a1d8f28a?crop=entropy&cs=tinysrgb&fit=max&fm=jpg&w=1080&q=80" alt='Market stalls with pyramids of potatoes' width='100%']
i’m sitting here now, typing this with my fingers numb and my soul half-lost. the wind is howling again. maybe it’s a sign. or maybe it’s just november. either way, i’m gonna keep walking. past the town square where no one knows my name and the street where the skateboarders told me to ‘chill out, bro.’ because sometimes, Metz isn’t about sights or stories. sometimes, it’s about showing up. drunk. tired. perfectly imperfect.
if you’re here next, grab a croissant. let the weather win. and if you’re cold? no one bats an eye. that’s the weirdly comforting thing.
p.s. i haven’t figured out why i’m sharing this. probably because today was a reminder that sometimes, being lost is the best way to find something. or maybe i just wanted to rant about passive-aggressive winter storms. either way, proceed with your own mystery. you’ve been warned.
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