The Case for Going Back to the Same Place

There is a small town by a lake in the French Alps that we have now visited four times. The first visit was an accident of weather — a planned hike was rained out and we needed somewhere to wait it out. The other three were on purpose.

Going back changes what travel is for. You stop sightseeing, because you have seen the sights. Instead you notice the bakery has a new owner, the lake is a degree colder than last year, the family at the corner table has a new baby. You are not collecting a place. You are keeping up with it.

It is also, frankly, restful in a way that a new city never is. No map. No anxiety about missing the thing you are "supposed" to see. You already know where the good bench is. You just go and sit on it.

We will go back again next year. The hike that started all of this is still on the list. One of these years the weather will hold.