In the fall of 1992, my future wife and I moved to Taiwan to teach English after graduating from the University of Illinois and realizing the idea of travel and living abroad seemed far more enticing than going to work teaching high school English - a career we weren't ready to embrace at the fresh young age of twenty-two. While living with a few roommates in Taipei, we ran across a paperback copy of a truly delightful expat memoir A Year in Provence by Peter Mayle. Thought it had been published a couple years before, the paperback had just been released, and I believe it was a gift from home for one of our roommates. Being an English major living an expat experience in a rather exotic locale, I became fascinated by Mayle's voice and his reflections, and developed a bit of writer's envy as I decided that what Mayle had seemingly effortlessly done was exactly what I wanted to do. Alas, that imagined life has never materialized, though I've remained inspired to someday grow up to be a writer, and I will always look back to Mayle as an early inspiration for non-fiction writing. Twenty-five years later, I was saddened to learn of Peter Mayle's passing back in January, and I only became aware of it as I sat down to craft this post after recently requesting Mayle's last book about Provence, My Twenty-five Years in Provence. The book offers Mayle's final reflections on the region and the lifestyle that inspired and supported a second career for him after moving to the south of France in his early fifties. I can't wait to read the book and get lost in his "Reflections on Then and Now," and I will look once more to Mayle for inspiration to maybe get on with the writing and living the life I've long imagined. Au revior, Peter. Best wishes and many thanks.
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