Write. Your. Own. Blog.
So I'll go back to Paris, where early Sunday morning Joey, Sujata, and I caught the high-speed train to Aix-en-Provence (pronounced "X"). While hurrying through the train station, my sweet husband rolled his suitcase over my sandal and the strap snapped. My favorite travel shoes, the most comfortable, the most versatile, and most importantly, my only pair of travel shoes were immediately shot. I flipped out but we were late so with a huff I shuffled my dangling shoe hurriedly to our train.
|Joey and Sujata outside the train station in Paris. Sujata dubbed Joey, "Gay Don Johnson," or "GDJ" for short, to show her fondness for his jacket.|
Our plan was to rent a car at the train station and take day trips from our cottage right outside Aix-en-Provence. Unfortunately almost everything in France closes on Sunday, including the car rental (who vacations on Sunday, seriously?), so we had to wait an hour for the proprietor of our cottage to pick us up (the high speed train station is situated a several kilometers from town). In the meantime we entertained ourselves with perverse translations on the train station restaurant menu. "Salty softness," anyone? (Or a quiche, same thing.)
Finally, Nathalie picked us up and drove us through the gorgeous, rolling, bright green and limestone foothills to Aix-en-Provence. She dropped us off at the breathtaking La Rotonde fountain, which also happened to be the beginning of the outdoor market, and arranged to return in a few hours to take us to her cottage. While I waddled in my broken shoe and took a thousand pictures, Joey and Sujata shopped. They bought fresh bread, homemade sausages, cheese and raspberry jam, ripe peaches and figs. They even found white truffles.
|La Rotonde fountain in Aix-en-Provence|
Upon our arrival at our cottage, we were all thrilled to find it clean and bright and nestled in the most gorgeous valley of Montagne Sainte-Victoire with an incredible view and even more incredible sunset. That night we feasted on our purchases from the market followed by homemade, white truffle gnocchi. And several bottles of wine. I believe the French have a saying about living life like that. Joie de vivre, amen.