Non, je ne regrette rien!

Du café, s’il vous plaît?

That is pretty much the extent of my French, but it really did do the trick. I’m sorry I was blog-free during my absence, but believe it or not I had quite a difficult time finding and maintaining an internet connection, first in the Dordogne and then (inexplicably) in Paris. I know you all want to know how the fairytale wedding was… There’s really only one word to describe it: Magical!

For the rest of the trip, these are the words I have:

Even excellent foi gras is not worth the cholesterol impact on one’s arteries.

Prehistoric cave art is absolutely breathtaking.

Drinks in the evening, at an outdoor café in Sarlat, with French friends and Edith Piaf playing in the background, truly made me question whether my life was perhaps a movie.

Having celiac and being the one to go on the breakfast run to the patisserie is a bad idea; I almost burst into tears.

It would be impossible for me to view Winged Victory of Samothrace too many times in my lifetime.

Yes, Shakespeare and Co. on the left bank IS. ALL. THAT.

Those silly hop on/hop off tourist boats running down the Seine are lovely ways to traverse the city but the tourists really just have to go.

Reading in the Jardin du Luxembourg, I discovered that Baudelaire is the anti-Walt Whitman, or as someone smarter than me remarked, “He’s Thanatos to Whitman’s Eros.”

It’s never too late to make new friends, and sometimes it’s downright easy.

I’m not brave enough to smuggle French sausage home in my suitcase for my nephew, no matter how much I love him.

Du café, s’il vous plaît?

How was your week? Did you drink enough coffee? What did you listen to and read?

 

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6 Comments

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6 responses to “Non, je ne regrette rien!

  1. Yup. Haggis balls. And I’ll say it again. Haggis balls haggis balls haggis balls. Got a nice ring to it, don’t you think?

  2. Sounds like a lovely trip! I’m not sure it’s the customs guys (or gals) who get the sausage and haggis treat. I’ve watched those cute beagles sniffing out people’s Spanish jamón– surely the puppy gets some of the loot?
    Matching you cup for cup, your café au lait, my café con leche.

  3. Um, did you just say haggis balls?

  4. Glad you had such a great time. My only regret is that you didn’t at least *try* to smuggle in those sausages. The worst that would have happened is the customs guy would have confiscated them and had a nice snack. (At least, we’re pretty sure that’s what happened to the haggis balls my husband tried to bring me home from Scotland last year.) Welcome back!

  5. Rhonda

    Sounds wonderful! Welcome back.