Incidentally, we were also in France.
David had a mission reunion (his first ever), so we decided to be there. It was a delightful chance to wander through the land of David's mission. And also hear David speak French. That was favorite. David made the comment once that it was funny how I was having a foreign experience, and he was totally at home. I love that.
For the record, this was my shortest birthday I've ever had - we landed in Paris at 12:45am DC time and immediately jumped forward to 6:45am Paris time. Voila - I lost 6 birthday hours. I guess that made me 6 hours younger, until I went back to DC and earned it all back. Anyway. The birthday was a blur.
In short:
We brunched by the Eiffel Tower,
we took a train/bus ride through the French countryside (I love getting out of the big cities when I travel),
and we watched the sun set behind Mont Saint Michel, a gigantic cathedral surrounded by a quaint little Renaissance-looking village on an island off the coast of Breton.
Technically, Mont Saint Michel is only sometimes an island, when the tide is in. And technically technically, it's never really a true island anymore because they built a causeway to get out to it. But I digress.
I had different songs in my head throughout this trip that seemed to perfectly fit each time. This was the song on the Mont:
We got to explore the Abbey the next day, always staying just barely a step ahead of the masses of tourists.
After that, it was back to the city of love. Here's the song for this leg:
What a beautiful city Paris is. We explored around all the tourist attractions with reckless abandon - we stopped by the Eiffel Tower (thrice, although we never made it to the top)...the Louvre (twice, although we never went in)...
...Notre Dame (during mass - glad we got to go in, but sad that they let tourists roam around during mass)...
...Arc du Triumph (we were ghosts) and the Champs Elysees (it's a busy street)...
...Sacre Coeur (amazing edifice, seedy neighborhood)...
...and the giant air vent in front of Moulin Rouge (people-watching opportunities abound).
You know why all of these are so popular? It's because they are absolutely stunning, especially when all the background sounds you hear are people speaking French. Now I understand. Oh, and the food helps, too. The world would be a more beautiful place if we all had easier access to crepes, macaroons, and chocolate chip pastries. Just sayin.
We also got a chance to consummate our almost-year-old union by making a contribution to the fence-o-declarations-o-love that we found on a bridge behind Notre Dame:
Here's my other song for this leg:
Watch it all, even if you don't speak French. It will blow you away. And/or hypnotize you.
Finally, we made it to the reunion, and I got to meet the Cuenots (David's mission President), and share with them one of the only French phrases I'd learned: "Je suis tres contente de vous reconetrer." Oh yeah. It was a show-stopper. (I confess. I had to look it up to spell it right. Turned out I'd left off the last half of most of the words. :) It was much easier once I learned that Sister Cuenot spoke Spanish.
I loved meeting everyone that was able to come, and I loved watching David reconnect. I also loved meeting a little girl who reminded me of my niece Lilia from the very first glance.
What a great thing reunions are. This time, I was humming this little ditty:
When the weekend was drawing to a close, I headed home to face tax week, while David stayed on the east side of the Atlantic to take care of some important work business for about a month. Miss you, David. Thanks for the killer birthday!
