Here is what it’s like to travel with me. There will be time. Time to say “bonjour” to a villager and ruffle their dog’s fur. Time to go into the one store that is not selling the same trinket 40 other stores on the route are selling. Time to marvel, through the touch of your feet, the worn limestone of a Davinci-made, double helix staircase. There will be no trudging through crowds, lanyards on chests, banging off the shoulders of a hundred other tourists in the same city square looking at the same overly instagramed point of interest. No. When I tell history, it is more than famous people, wars, stained glass, turrets, and graveyards. It’s about networks of villages who put work and life on pause at midday to eat 3 courses with colleagues and family, who enjoy a weekend of vide-greniers and Sunday walks with children and grandchildren to appreciate ocean-scapes, simple farmland, or mountain air. It’s about seeing people who enjoy the relaxation of a 6 o’clock drink and an evening game of petanque on the village court. Travel with me is to learn what it is to be.