Travel had always been a form of escapism for her, a way to find a new life beyond the confines of routine. Despite the grogginess hazing her mind, she was able to appreciate the humid air and bustling noise of the city around her when she first stepped foot onto the streets of France. This is life, she thought. With its rustic beauty, France was the quintessence of timeless charm. The cozy cobblestone homes tucked into the countryside and rolling hills brought life to Avignon. The language, although new to her, sounded melodic and beautiful, much like the sound of the birds in the early morning. The people, with their kind yet raucous behaviour, swarmed the streets, rushing to their separate lives. It made her pause in the crowd and wonder where they were headed – whether they had families, jobs, thoughts or large aspirations. She often found herself making personalities for each stranger she passed – the word for it, she believed, was sonder. Sonder refers to the “realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own—populated with their own ambitions, friends, routines, worries and inherited craziness.” A sprawling anthill of complex stories surrounding her that she might never know. After-all, she was but a background extra – a woman sipping coffee, a blur of traffic passing on the highway, or a lighted window at dusk. In their narrative, she would most likely never appear again. After a moment of reflection, she continued her steps unhurriedly. There was nothing she could do but let their lives wash over her, along with the language, culture, and stories she would later collect in her memory. She would never know why the woman she passed was in such a rush, or why her driver was in such a good mood that day, but that was how it was – how it would be. C’est la vie.