I should not travel to nice places

Up early, I walk briskly along Rue Barbes towards the local markets behind the Marie, my last day in France. Tonight I catch the Eurostar to London. I need to prepare- I still have to pack, to take a few pictures, buy some cheeses from the fromagerie, grab some wine, wrap goodbye presents, a million other things. Hell, I cant believe I didnt do some of this stuff earlier! Most of all, I need time to say goodbye, as well as hopefully head back to Rue Mouffetard, my favourite rue in all of Paris... I'll go there and I'll feel awful. I felt the same way leaving the group in Kolkata for Goa, the lurch in my stomach when the plane took off strangely mimicked the feelings I was going through, intensifying them. Like I was being torn away. Terrible feeling. I suppose I should not travel to nice places.