Is it the third time that makes it familiar? does the third time make it mine? Coming in and out of jet lag unconsciousness on the bus, I read Campaneac, Malestroit, one fleeting glimpse of Josselin before turning off for Vannes... I love this place so much: even this litany of names fils me with pleasure. And now to share it with 25 students. To have them shape their own relationships with this landscape, these names. Tonight Vannes, tomorrow Carnac - becoming at ease in the footsteps of a medieval city, standing in awe amongst 3,000 stones. Harry asks Oliver what he's most looking forward to on the trip and Oliver says "Seeing David Stein." This is the central warmth of this trip: to see our friend, to claim our friendship once again, to live it for a few wonderful days. And then Vannes unfurled before us, and all the rest to look forward to. This place, this place that I still want to _be_ into in so many ways. Here where I dare to let myself imagine Neolithic efforts, and medieval fantasies, 19th century fervor, WWII fear and courage. the history of emotions is such a cool project for the simultaneous displacement and sympathy it asks a for. Tomorrow, Carnac: do I think upon the stones or the people who erected them? Both, of course, intertwined, animated by each other. For now, bed -and a return, to here, to writing (for I have missed it), other moments of striving.