Bonjour mes amis!

Before I tell you about our wonderful French vacation, I have to start this blog by telling you about the major beef I have with my husband’s company.  Although I am extremely grateful to them for giving us a roof over our head, food on our table, and something for Alex to do day after day so he doesn’t wither away on our couch watching Sports Center, they are constantly building up my sweet little dreams and crushing them time after time after time. You see, there have been multiple opportunities that have arisen that would transfer my husband’s work to Paris, sending me into a furry of daydreams of what my Parisian life would be like. Before Alex had finished pitching the idea to me initially, I had already pictured us in an apartment situated on a little side street in Montmarte, walking Sauce near the Seine, and making friends with my next door neighbor Claire, a former French film starlet who would have me over for déjeuner and tell me about her glamorous days gone by as we nibbled on croque monsieur and sipped rosé. I’d pick up a part-time job in a boulangerie where I would learn to bake croissants as my co-workers help me brush up on my French, and all the while, I’d be documenting my days on my  blog titled, “La Petite Blogette”. Eventually, we would have little French babies that would be bilingual and named Jacque and Madeline and they’d wear little capes and always walk down the street holding a red balloon. Life would be perfect in Paris….

But here I am. Writing about the place I’m supposed to live from my couch 3,000 miles away, eating a bagel instead of a croissant and sipping on boring old coffee instead of foamy cappuccino…but if I can’t reside in France, I am so thankful to share our brief visit with you.

Our brilliant friend, Suzanne recommended that we stay in Odeon and she couldn’t have been more spot on. The streets were super lively and lined with tons of colorful cafes and bistros. We randomly found this little boutique hotel that was nestled right next to Luxembourg Gardens. The hotel was super sleek and decked in red silky chairs and covered with a plush purple ikat rug. The concierge, Tiffany, wore little French dresses under little French blazers and had little French cat glasses and only chuckled a little when I tried to speak the little French I know.

Luxembourg Gardens

We headed to Montmarte our first night to visit the Sacre Coeur, and on the way, found the apartment that we will someday live in. Actually, it was more like this apartment found me. I swear I heard it whisper my name as we walked by.

Last time I was at the Sacre Coeur, it was in high school and I had a magical experience with my girlfriends as we sat on the steps and listened to a man sing “No Woman, No Cry”. This time, was not quite the same, but we did see the man below do things with a soccer ball I never though possible.

I fell madly in love with macaroons. Mmm…

Notre Dame

We spent the next day being Americans in Paris. I was offended every time someone said “hello” to us as opposed to “bonjour”, but the big bulky camera strapped around my neck could possibly have been the first clue that I wasn’t a local.

Soooo dogs in France don’t seem to need leashes. I couldn’t believe how so many little chiens walked so politely next to their owners. That could be the number one glitch in the whole moving-to-Paris plan as the Parisians would never survive with Sauce on the loose!

We most definitely spent our life savings on cappuccino. Each cup was 8 euros, but that didn’t stop us from starting each morning with a frothy mug. I don’t even want to add up how much the actual cost must be, but will just push it far to the back of my brain that holds all the things that are huge rip offs and make me angry, including the atrocious amount of money we spend on cable each month.

Cute Tiffany recommended visiting Ombre, a restaurant located on top of a museum and that has a glass roof next to the Eiffel Tower. The food was mediocre, but the view was unbelievable.

My husband has impeccable timing. When we showed up to Versaille, there was a two hour wait so he suggested to have a picnic lunch in the gardens outback. By the time we had snacked and strolled through the flowers, the line for the chateau had vanished and we were able to walk right in. (Had it been up to me, I would have skipped it all and went shopping, most likely purchasing a pair of pants with a skirt attached, also known as “skants”, like I did on my last trip to Paris. Thank God he kept me at Versaille!)

Our picnic spot.

Both the gardens and the chateau were breathtaking, and I half wanted stamp my foot and scream “I want a crystal chandelier”, like Veruca Salt when I walked through the Hall of Mirrors.

Our next stop was Bordeaux. We didn’t know much about the area besides it had delicious wines, but quickly found out how beautiful this city is. The architecture of each and every building is ornate and pristine.

We signed up for a wine making class while in Bordeaux. Our hostesses, Ana and Clare, taught us all about the history of French wines before they helped us mix our own concoctions, which we drank in their apartment over the quiche lunch they prepared for us.  They were lovely hostesses!

After lunch, we headed to Saint Emillion with Ana and Clare to tour two chateaus. The first was family owned where the family was actually eating lunch in the house while we were there. The grandchildren of the owner were riding bikes in the front of the vineyard and speaking in their little French voices (they would most definitely be friends with Jacque and Madeline). If you look close, you’ll see their bikes in front of the door.

The second chateau was completely modern and state of the art. Every part of the wine-making process was done with high tech computers and we walked through secret passages to get from one end of the vineyard to another. I half expected to see oompa loompa’s rolling a wine barrel because it completely felt like we were walking through Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, glass elevator included!

Our afternoon in Saint Emilion…

I feel like I’m revealing a secret to you by introducing you to our last stop, Cap Ferret. It’s a secret that the French do not want you to know about, one they have been keeping hush-hush because this place is so magical they want to keep it all to themselves. When my friend, Shaunna, recommended stopping in Cap Ferret, I knew based on past experience that it was going to be fabulous, because everywhere she recommends is, and not surprisingly, she was 100% correct. Cap Ferret is a quaint little oyster town in Southern France that is completely laid back and unpretentious with a strict bathing suit/ flip flop dress code.  I actually read that the mantra there is “No high heels. No make up. Just really nice people and good food.”  You can spend your day at the beach or watch the fisherman pull fresh oysters from the water.  There’s no place like it!

We were lucky enough to find a room in one of the few hotels in the area and our stay at La Massion du Bassin added to the charm of the trip. The hotel was small and was oozing with charm. Every inch was decorated in a French country/shabby chic/nautical theme and they transformed their front deck into a tropical private bungalow. I could have lived the rest of my life on that deck.

Ahhhhh the beaches…

One of my favorite parts of Cap Ferret is that the most popular mode of transportation is bicycle, and to really seal the French stereotype deal, all the bikes had baskets. The only automobiles on the cape were vintage Range Rovers and Jeeps and these cute little beach cruiser things that I’d like to believe were manufactured just for Cap Ferret.

Au revoir, France!  Next time we rendez vous I hope it’s for much longer!