Well, we're back home... It's nice to be home. In fact, there's no place like home.
Yesterday morning as we left our lovely little apartment, in Theoule sur Mer, we said our goodbyes to our grocer, baker and caretaker, jumped in our car, loaded to the hilt with luggage and bike box and made the 24 mile trek back to Nice on the A8 autoroute. I had given us plenty of time to easily return the car and make our way through security to rest at a small eatery within the terminal for breakfast but we didn't get any breakfast and it was anything but easy or restful.
Apparently there was a strike. What strike? I dunno, they said something about a strike against gas prices. I was thinking why just with the gas prices? Have they noticed the expense of other things too, like food? And while they're at it they might want to take a look at the the lack of parking or the abundance of smoking (not that I'm complaining or anything). But this strike and others like them, apparently can take an otherwise fast moving tollway and bring it to a screeching (and I mean that word literally) halt!
Arriving at the airport with the blood pressure of a quadruple, bypass surgical patient and only an hour and 5 minutes to spare, Joy and I jumped out of the car, dragged our luggage and bikebox to check in while making contingencies if after returning the car, I didn't return in time to meet Joy and I missed the flight... fortunately I made it. But it was close.
The flight back was uneventful and long. Bryan picked us up at the airport in my car and let us get a quick In and Out Burger. After picking up our dog, Monet (ironic huh?) we were stepping foot in our most familiar home after having lost only one bottle of wine due to aggressive bag handling and 26.5 hours of solid, open-eye alertness to soon slide into our comfortable bed... sleeping through the night.
I'm in the office now. Two meetings down, over a hundred emails read, mail opened, a phone call with Jamie Whitmore and several still to make... here are my final takeaway thoughts about France.
1. The French can cook! But American's could teach them a few things when it comes to bouef.
2. I like 2 hour lunches.
3. Yes, women do go topless at the beach but it's not like you remember from your dad's girly magazines.
4. Driving is a combat sport in France.
5. The wine is plentiful, good and overall less expensive than in the states.
6. The wine is the only thing that is less expensive than in the states.
7. The French are delightful if you try to see things from their point of view and at least say "Hello, Thank you and Goodbye" in their language... bonus points if you try even harder to speak a sentence, even if you butcher it!
8. The Mosquito is the unofficial bird of France.
9. We don't know nuthin' bout "old."
10.Churches are everywhere. In fact, they're the center of the town... but they're empty. Hmmmmm.
I look forward to going back again someday. I recommend a trip to the Mediterranean some time during your life but if it can't happen; a beach is a beach and a cheeseburger is a cheeseburger. But not all beaches are the same just like cheeseburgers which can have the same ingredients but taste completely different.
Finally, our thanks to a dear friend for making this trip possible for us and to the Egles' for the generous accommodations of their private beachside apartment; without either, this dream vacation would still be a dream. Also, a shout out to Bryan and Kim for taking care of our "old girl" and Ryan and Bryan for the ride to and from respectively.
Ohhh... and "Thank you Lord, for In and Out!"
