La vie est belle: To Paris, To Paris, to Pick Chelsea up

Packed light for a quick trip to Paris to pick up Chelsea. I MADE Kurt stop at McDonalds for coffee. Pretty pumped for some Mickey D’s coffee. After paying, Kurt said “Uh, Mom. Look at our coffees. Seriously they looked like little pee cups. Espresso, not coffee, shoulda known. I laughed till I cried a little.

Our huge cuppa Joe Yes, this sign is for realz.

We have a love hate relationship with our GPS. It took us through hills and forests. Kurt said, “This does NOT look like the road to Paris should look” We even had to slam on our brakes so not to hit a hawk who turned around to take a second look at our car. Passed a foie gras farm full of geese waiting to be sold at the Sarlet market. Passed lots of fields of poppies and trees planted in perfect rows. We wonder why. Came to a ridgetop and on both sides of the roads you could see the beautiful colorful countryside, dotted with red roofed old stone houses and green fields full of white fluffy sheep.

Future foie gras

The road to Paris - Ridgetop view

On the interstate, I slept most of the way to Paris while Kurt drove through the torrential rain. The GPS took us through the middle of Paris during rush hour with CRAZY drivers, I had to close my eyes some, but we got to see a lot of Paris. Kurt had rented a hostel in Paris for the night because I hadn't planned on going with him and because Chelsea’s flight arrived at 7 am. At the last minute I decided to go because of all the rain. As we drove through the pretty streets of Paris, I felt okay about staying in a hostel, until….we “crossed the tracks”. I was trying to be brave since Kurt was with me so he let me out to go ask about parking. Immediately, I was whooped and hollered at, at length. Before the light turned, Kurt, who witnessed all that, rolled down the window and yelled “Mom, get in!” I was SO RELIEVED. I suggested that we stay at Hotel
Aida Opera that we stayed at in 2008.

Hotel Aida Opera My favorite chocolate shop in Paris. Yes, I have one.

It was like going home. I knew where to eat, get money exchanged, and even where to find chocolate. We ate at La Bouillon Chartier, a very nice restaurant that the locals wait in line for nightly. Since it was raining, we got right in and asked for a table for two. Our apparent American accent (Une table pour deux, y'all) gave us away and they seated us at a table with two other English speaking couples. One was from Alabama, who had cousins living in Guntersville (no connection though), the other was an Asian couple from Sacramento. I have cousins living there, but again no connection. They were so nice and we had some good food together and a lot of laughs, like when the waiter came to take our order, knowing we spoke little French, he sternly said “WHAT DO YOU WANT” in his French accent. Paul said in his happy Asian accent, “WHATCHU GOT?” Funny stuff. We all howled with laughter, but the waiter didn't think it was funny. He gave a "HMPHHH!" and turned and stormed off. He didn't come back for 20 minutes. After dinner we stopped for chocolates to have with coffee in our room. We opened the windows and drifted in and out of sleep all night to the cool air and the comforting sounds of Parisian night life.

Up at 5 to shower and pick up Chelsea, it was a welcome change of pace to drive through the empty streets of Paris in the morning. Just as we passed a long line of traffic getting off the interstate, we realized we missed the exit for Charles de Gaulle airport. We had to go 5 miles down the road and take some back roads, which led us directly to Terminal 1. We had no idea which terminal her flight would arrive in. Chelsea’s phone was not working. We had no way to contact her. I was panicked not knowing how we would find her. I was worried that she'd be scared not being able to communicate since she spoke no French at all. We stood in line with a mass of people holding up signs for their arriving parties

.. .No Chelsea.

Kurt stood there as I walked around, searching the crowd here and there.

... No Chelsea

. Kurt noticed a guy with a cowboy hat, so I asked him if he was arriving from Charlotte. He was. Everyone had gotten off the plane.

... No Chelsea.

I was about to lose it. Just then, I felt a tap on my shoulder, and turned around to see my smiling Chelsea. I grabbed her and squeezed her tight once, then again, then again. I felt the sobs come and I had to let it out. I hadn’t realized how worried I really was. Whew!

Chelsea, Kurt, and I safely back in the car, headed right into Paris’ morning rush hour traffic. We went so slow for so long, the GPS lady finally asked, “Would you like to switch to pedestrian mode?” More laughter.

Out of Paris, we stopped for fueling and Kurt made me drive so I would be prepared for the next time, when I pick up Kathy and Mom.

Good to be back home in Baran. La Marenda for dinner tonight. We had heard a lot of good things about it. It was soooo, worth the wait for some really good French food. LaMarenda is owned by a married couple. She runs the restaurant upstairs and he runs the tavern downstairs. This little restaurant is way out in the country One would think that it would only be serving the locals. But..upon arriving, the waitress sat us at a table for a large group of people. We tried our best to convey that there were only three of us. Finally, they moved us to a smaller table. Just then, we heard people speaking English. I listened. "They are southerners!", I said. As they entered, we smiled and said "hello". As they returned our greeting, I said "They sound like they are from Kentucky" They were! At the next table to us in a remote little local restaurant deep in the countryside of France,were 4 couples from Kentucky, and Wildcat fans, no less. We knew several of the same people!!! What a coincidence!