I have wanted to go to France as long as I can remember. I’m not sure why or when the desire to go began. It could have been a report I did in school on Mont St. Michel. I worked hard on that thing. Hand written with pictures pasted on various pages. Yes, back in those days, we were expected to write our reports in ink. I was also creative enough in those days to add the little extra with the pictures.
I took French in high school instead of Spanish like my parents wanted me to. Non, je parles Français. Je ne parles pas….Spanish. Okay, I’m rusty. Then again, I have English, Russian, and Ilokano rumbling around in this brain, too. If you want to get technical add Pidgin English to the list.
Taking French was in preparation for my eventual trip to France. I wanted to see L’Tour Eiffel. Walk around the Louvre. Take a boat down the Seine. Shop on Avenue des Champs d’Élysée. Take a picture under L’Arc de Triomphe. Go out to the country and check out vineyards and farms. Stroll long the winding road of Mont St. Michel. Yes. Yes. There are other places I would love to visit, too, but France was the first country I can remember wanting to visit.
I started thinking about a trip to Paris the year before our 10th anniversary. I even asked to go to Le Relais for my birthday dinner. Several months before said anniversary, I left my job. A tough decision to make knowing that a trip to Paris would be sacrificed in the name of being able to take the time to figure out what I wanted to do for employment and not just jump into any old job.
We still haven’t been to Paris. I’m not sure when we will or if we ever will. I can live with that.
The closest I’ll get for now is the Paris Hotel in Las Vegas. The picture with Stick and her Old Man was taken in January 2005. By the way, if you have never been to Le Provençal while in Vegas, you should. Great atmosphere. Great food – rustic French with an Italian influence. If you go on the weekend, the servers will be belting out beautiful opera. I took the Eiffel Tower picture the Summer of 2006 when we met up with Uncle AJ and his family.
Until I actually set foot on French soil, I’ll just dream about sitting outside a café somewhere sipping on a café au lait and nibbling on a croissant. Yeah, nibbling on a croissant will remain a dream unless they have gluten-free ones over there. But, I can still dream.