French Bread Secrets

It’s true that many places in France have baguette vending machines. Baguettes are iconic in France, and a meal isn’t a meal without bread. 

The vital vending machine

This morning, after an hour-long hike before the temperatures rise too high, I stopped at the bakery and saw a woman filling the baguette machine. 

I knew I needed to peek inside to learn the secrets of the baguette vending machine and share it too. 

The young woman politely stepped back and let me snap a picture while juggling the bread and pastries I had already purchased. 

Et voilà! 

The inner workings

Baguettes lined up in a row waiting for customers to put their 1,20 in and have a baguette slide into their hands. 

Weather Wars

 In our hometown, in Columbus, Ohio, they're under a winter storm warning. Schools have been closed.

I checked with our sons and they are safely snuggled up with their girlfriends in their apartments with enough supply to wait out the storm, plus they're still working from home, so they don't have to go out to work. 

One son checked in with us. The freezing rain had turned to snow. "What's the weather like there?" he asked, probably feeling like the whole world was a winter wonderland. 

A swirl of clouds contrasting the blue sky

"You probably don't want to know," I said. But I sent him pictures anyway as we wandered along the Mediterranean at Banyuls-sur-Mer, sipping coffee at a beachside table, 

So picturesque

then walking to a marina. 

Finally we drove over some mountains to Coulliore and had lunch at a table with a view of the gorgeous water. 

Some scaffolding on the church as they do work. 

The sun heated the air into the 60s (16 C) and we felt quite comfortable in the sun. 

There’s something to be said for snuggling up in an apartment during a winter storm, but there’s a lot to be said for walking Ali g the Mediterranean in the sun, too. 

Living Under a Vaccine Passport

Tuesday morning, Earl and I drove to the city of Castelnaudary. 

Beautiful flowers fly above the streets

We parked in the lot across from the hospital, and I went in for my first French mammogram. But before I could enter the hospital, I needed to show my pass sanitaire. The pass sanitaire is a vaccine passport. If you haven't been vaccinated in France, forget visiting the hospital for yearly exams like mammograms or colonoscopies.  

Here in France, we are required to show a Pass Sanitaire. That is a QR code that proves we have been vaccinated if we want to eat in a restaurant, have coffee in a café, or enter the square to listen to live music. 

Cappuccino is available with the pass sanitaire

The rules began on August 9th and since then, surprisingly, cafes and restaurants have been busy with patrons who willingly pull out their phones and show their passes. France currently has a loophole that people can get tested every three days and show their negative tests. The Covid tests are free for French residents now, but in October, residents will have to start paying for them, 50 euros per test. That is in hopes of convincing people to get the vaccination instead of getting regularly tested. 

There are many French people who are upset about the requirement. There are even some restaurants and bars resisting. They don't ask to see the pass or they don't scan them. 

A music fete this summer where our pass sanitaire was screened before we could enter the square.

One cafe owner said "We hate to ask our friends for their pass." Then she hesitated and said, "But a coffee, that's not really a necessity, is it?" And that's the point. You don't have to go out for a coffee. You want to go out for a coffee or for a drink with friends. 

Here in France, we know what it is like to forego those pleasures. From October 30, 2020 through June 9, 2021, restaurants and bars were closed for dine in, whether outside or in. We didn't sit and drink with our friends. No music played in the town squares. We were lucky to wander through markets with our masks firmly in place to buy the necessities -- food only. Clothing and trinkets were not included in the markets. 

Now, it's our turn, the vaccinated, to go out on the town. To raise a glass and celebrate that we have survived the initial phase of a pandemic. 

A kir perhaps

In Esperaza, a town know for its free spirits, the Gendarmes patrol the market, reminding people to keep their masks up firmly over their mouth and nose. 

This picture truly captures Esperaza

Earl and I sat for a coffee one Sunday, listening to music nearby as two guys played the didgeridoos. The waiter came out to take an order of a nearby table. The woman sat smoking a cigarette. The waiter asked for her pass sanitaire. She said she didn't have it. He said he couldn't serve her. She protested, waving her cigarette in the air. No, he insisted and she reluctantly left the outdoor café. Her empty table was quickly snapped up by someone who was vaccinated. 

I heard a French official explain that for a year and a half, he and his daughters had been isolating to avoid the virus and to avoid spreading the virus. Now they have their vaccines. It is their turn to go out to restaurants and movies and music festivals. Those who aren't vaccinated can isolate, staying home to avoid getting Covid. 

Beach Birthday Celebrations

 Last week, my friend Sue had her first French birthday. This fell right before her first French wedding anniversary and her official Franciversary, the day she moved to France. 

We all wanted to celebrate so we took a day at the beach. 

The beach reminded me of my days in Corsica.

Our friends have a puppy, so we had to look for a beach where dogs were allowed. We ended up going to La Franqui and walking to a part of the beach where there weren't any "No Dog" signs. 

But first, we had lunch along the waterfront. 

A lake, or etang, stretched inland between the sand and the sea

Although it looks beautiful and had lots of birds in it, it was a little stinky.

Sue and I toasting her birthday. I had sangria. 

Earl and Steve in matching blues

After lunch, we began the long walk out across the sand. But the sand was soft and not too hot. We took the dog off the leash and he ran like a crazy hound into the etang trying to scare off the seagulls. We kept walking farther and farther down the beach trying to avoid the "No dog" signs. Finally, I suggested we just play dumb if anyone approached us about the dog. There were other dogs, so we set up our beach blanket and the dog rolled on it immediately, sprinkling it with sand.

The pup in the foreground. Earl striding into the Mediterranean

This was a pretty perfect beach. The sand was soft. The entrance into the Med was not precipitously steep as it had been at some beaches. We could walk a long way out without it getting too deep, as a matter of fact, a sandbar allowed us to stand in knee-deep water and let the waves break around us. 

Paddling around in the sea when it's a gorgeous blue is glorious. 

Afterward, we tried to rest on the beach, but the dog had other plans. 

He immediately began digging, covering our blanket with sand. We tried shaking it out a few times but he went right back to digging. 

Earl spread a towel away from the blanket to see if the dog was after us specifically or just the blanket. At one point, the pup was just pummeling me with sand and I had to go back in the sea to rinse off all the sand. I still found a bunch caked around my ears in the shower that night. 

Sue and Steve thought it was hilarious, until the dog turned his digging super powers on them. 

Digging to Australia.

Ice cream on the boardwalk

After rinsing off, we headed back to the boardwalk for beers and ice cream. Mine was a Mama Mia with salted caramel ice cream and sauce. The addition of the Haribo candies did nothing for me. 

This was a terrific beach and we'll definitely visit again. As September stretches in front of us, we know our beach adventures are coming to an end soon. 

The Dancing Fountains in Beziers

After a hectic summer, I have been playing catch up with work, trying to earn more money since I'm not able to teach university classes. Then recently, I learned that a new law in China would prevent teachers from outside China teaching students there. VIPKid is still offering classes to parents who bought packages, but the country suddenly called a moratorium to teaching for a week at the end of summer. I was free from my 12-3 teaching hours for nearly a week. I wasted no time in planning an outing, this time to Beziers. 

The lights and water were beautiful, like fireworks on the ground. 

Earl and I have traveled to Beziers before. Here's a link to a previous post when we considered moving there in 2015 as we visited towns and cities on our reconnaissance mission. But I was hesitant because the Catholic church and rioters killed 20,000 Cathars in Beziers during a crusade in 1209, known as the Albigensian Crusade. It just seemed like bad karma to move there. Bezier is beautiful though with a large swathe of park running through the middle of downtown and buildings in the Haussmann-style of Paris.

A Facebook post for people who live in Languedoc, the former name of our region of France, alerted me to a light and music show in Beziers. The musical fountain occurs at 10 p.m., so we needed to stay overnight. We convinced some friends to come along and traveled the two hours. First, a stop at the nearby beach Valras Plage. We had lunch in the square that faces the beach then spent some time in the cold Mediterranean (I don't think it ever warmed up this year) before dozing on the sand.   

The beach was not very crowded just two days before La Rentree, the day the French return to work and school 

The park in Bezier was decorated with all kinds of colorful creatures.

Us at the restaurant Pica-Pica

Strange lay out of the deviled eggs with caviar and lobster included

At 10 p.m., the music started. The fountains and lights had been going for a while. I think just the lights and water spurts were magical. 

I'm not sure if the music added anything to it. Some of the songs included YMCA, Laissez-moi Danser, and Formidable. 

Definitely worth watching.

Some of the illuminations in the park

The next morning, we had breakfast and wandered around the park, posing for a selfie in front of this Titan fountain. 

With Sue and Steve

This theater has topiary chess pieces in front of it. 

We stopped in Narbonne on the way home and had lunch at a restaurant along the Canal du Midi. 

The cathedral in Narbonne and an amazing sky. 

Lovely relaxing days without any teaching.

Joys and Sorrows

 This week has been full of joys and sorrows. This week alone could mimic a lifetime of ups and downs. 

On Wednesday, we learned that Earl's older brother, Art, had died. We learned  less than a week before that he was sick but they weren't sure what was going on. "You may want to come home," his wife Shelley texted Earl. Then he was out of the hospital. Then back in. Tuesday night they texted. They had a diagnosis - histoplasmosis, a fungal disease that comes from bird or bat droppings. At least they could treat him. 

A family photo from 2006, Art giving his daughter Amy rabbit ears. 

The next morning, we got the call that he had died in the hospital that night. The fungus takes a toll on the heart and his had been weakened by a heart attack in his 40s. We were shocked to lose him and felt helpless, unable to hug his wife or daughter or son. 

At Grace's wedding. Art is in the pink shirt. 

Since I've known him, Art has been a fairly quiet, no-nonsense guy. He says it like it is. He had a lifelong love of Harley Davidson motorcycles and a core group of friends in the U.S. and Canada, which is where he met his wife. Earl has long admired his stoic brother for standing up for his principals. Art worked as an electrician and always did the job right, helping out friends and family when we needed it. He raised two amazing kids who both have advanced degrees. We're stunned that he's gone.

Another sorrow, that pales in comparison, is the loss of our cat Louis. We last saw him Sunday morning. I was preparing to teach so I let him out the balcony doors. He does a kind of parcours to jump from the wall to the post, back to a lower wall and onto the sidewalk. He gets wet cat food every morning and evening, and never misses a meal, so I expected he would be in the garden whenever Earl ventured down and opened the door. Louis's an outdoor cat, but continues to spend a lot of time indoors, coming and going at will. 

Louis came home with scratches on his nose one day. 

After I finished teaching, we got ready to go to the market in Esperaza, and I asked Earl if he'd fed Louis. He said no that Louis hadn't come back. That's not like Louis, so I started to worry. He always come back for food. 

We had dinner with friends Sunday evening and after dinner we went walking around Quillan in search of Louis. We called and clucked. We showed pictures of Louis to French people who shrugged mostly. 

Louis on the perch that Earl created for him. 

I posted on Facebook in Quillan. I paid to have his picture shared on Pet Alert in our region of France. We put up posters around town. The baker's wife took down the poster in the window that warned people to wear masks and replaced it with the poster of missing Louis. 

My friend Sue checked with the vets around town and farther. 

Louis is neutered and chipped. If anyone finds him, they have our phone number. He isn't a rare breed, so I doubt anyone has stolen him. 

Everyone has been incredibly helpful, telling us they might have seen Louis here or there. We always go in search of Louis. We looked in trash cans; we walked the train tracks. We call him when walking in the mountains far from home in hopes of finding him. 

Last night, we were at a town festival when our friend Enzo said he'd seen a cat that looked just like Louis near another friend's house above town. We drove in the dark to the area and called for Louis. Earl walked up the hill; I walked down the hill. A cat came trotting around the corner toward me in the dark. His face was white with gray, just like Louis, but he was long-haired instead of short haired. He came to me and let me pet him. But he wasn't Louis. 

People say don't give up hope. They tell me stories of cats that disappeared and came back a week later, a month later. 

It seems silly to be so sad about a cat, but when it rains, I picture him somewhere outside afraid, maybe hurt, unable to come home. Because I'm sure if he could come home, he would. 

Come home, Louis! 

But this week has been full of joy as well. On Tuesday, we picked up Tucker and his friend Nathan at the Perpignan train station. 

Earl, Tucker and Nathan all wore white shirts on Tuesday. 

They've instantly become part of the Quillan social fabric, watching the semi-finals of the Euro soccer tournament, singing songs with the English and swimming in the pools of young Belgian women with vacation homes here. 

Watching the Italy-Spain game at the Glacier. 

We aren't doing a lot of sightseeing, but as long as they're happy, we're happy. 

Then yesterday Grace, Jack and three of their friends arrived, flying from Dublin to Carcassonne. We needed two cars to pick them all up, and luckily my friend Derrick volunteered to chauffeur some of them back to Quillan. It's so great to have Grace and Jack back in France. I hope it feels like home to them. 

And for us we're thrilled to get to meet some of the friends they've made in Dublin this year during the year of grad school.

Last night our friends Lou and Steve bravely invited all 9 of us to their house for dinner. We made quite a train walking up there carrying wine, more wine, hamburgers and chicken to barbecue, pasta salad and cake. When you bring 9 people for dinner, you have to divide and conquer. 

Our crew without Steve and Lou

After a delicious dinner and much wine, we played a game called Hammerschlagen, which has become a tradition at Steve and Lou's house. It has to do with hitting a nail with one blow each turn and the first person plus the last person to drive their nails into the tree stump lose. It's definitely a dangerous game.

Nathan, in a sweatshirt borrowed from our friend Kris, takes aim. 

Grace takes aim as Tucker watches. 

After dinner, we wandered down to the town square for some music. We didn't stay long because Grace and her friends were tired from getting to the airport at 4 a.m., and then our friend Enzo said he might have seen Louis so we set off to search for him. 

Somehow, we ended up with a picture on the town Facebook page anyway. 

And Saturday, the Tour de France is ending in Quillan. We're all excited to see the caravan, the riders and enjoy the festivities. 

My heart is filled with joy to have two of my kids in town, just getting to hang out with them. But I'm sad for Earl and Art's wife Shelley and his two kids. And, of course, we're sad not to have Louis here to share in the family time.  

A Weekend in Spain

 We journeyed to Roses, Spain along the Mediterranean for a three-day weekend. (That sounds so posh, doesn't it? Just running off to Spain for the weekend.)

A sunrise picture on my run

The trip started as a comedy of errors. We planned to leave around 8:45 a.m. Derrick, Earl and I have all had our vaccinations so we didn't need a Covid test to get back into France after the weekend. Kris, who turned 36 on Friday, hadn't had his vaccinations yet, so he needed a test. However, when he got to the lab at 8 a.m., the lab wasn't starting Covid tests until 9:30. We settled in our garden (we live near the lab) for coffee and tea, and some birthday chocolates for Kris. He  had been scheduled last minute to get his first Covid vaccine (which the British call a jab, and the French call a pique) between 9-9:30. Since the office is south of us, the schedule was perfect to get a Covid test then drive south for the vaccine and continue on to Spain. They considered driving down for the vaccine, then back to Quillan for the test. I contacted our always helpful doctor Cat Harrison and she said Kris could arrive later, so we didn't have to drive back and forth.

I went with Kris to get his Covid test. It's an awful birthday present and he dreaded it so much, but he only needed me to help him fill out his paperwork. Then we were off, stopping in Axat for his vaccine. He came out several minutes later with blood all over the arm of his shirt. None of us could figure out why he bled so much. 

But we put it behind us and drove toward Spain. It's only two hours away from our home in Quillan. We skirted past the big Pyrenees mountains that still have a smidgen of snow on them and crossed into Spain. No one stopped us or asked to see our Covid vaccine proof. 

Our first stop in Roses, along the Mediterranean, was for lunch. We had reservations for 1:30 and were a bit late once we parked and checked into the hotel. Derrick had surprised Kris with some old friends of his father's. Nicole and Dave used to have a place in Roses and Kris remembered vacations there with his father, who died this past year. So when we showed up for lunch, Dave and Nicole were waiting. 

The lunch was a harbinger of the weekend to come, because most of it was spent sitting at a table eating. 

My iPhone put together a video of my pictures, and you can see that food figures prominently. 

We probably spent six hours a day at meals - three hours at lunch, three hours at dinner. 

I did have a swim in the sea, and even though it was the end of June, the water was cold and took my breath when I first dived in. 

We had a brief swim in the pool as well. 

And one of the highlights for me was an early morning run along the shorefront to the jetty and then I returned to the hotel along the beach. 

On the Saturday of our visit, Spain allowed people to take off masks when they are outside. So that was nice, to be able to ramble along the streets without a mask. 

Friends Jo and Matthew traveled to Spain on Saturday and we went to dinner with them that evening before returning to the hotel for some music and dancing. We loved watching the older ladies dancing by themselves or in pairs to the DJ's music. 

We returned home via Cadaqués, which is a village along the Med that looks similar to Greek villages with whitewashed buildings and blue shutters. It's a very quaint place where we enjoyed another lunch, maybe only two hours. 

The bougainvillea growing on the buildings was amazing. 

Although officers were standing along the toll booths, they didn't stop our car and ask for our proof of vaccine. So Kris' covid test went unchecked. He was negative, anyway. 
Having breathed in plenty of sea air, we returned to Quillan. 

Isolation and Socialization

We’re not very good at isolation. 

We had every intent to isolate 10 days. Then a friend said the rules say 7 days, but they’re a suggestion. 

We let our friends know we’d be happy to see them in the garden if they felt safe. 

But the weather was rainy and chilly that first day so Lou and Steve brought us dinner, and Derrick and Kris joined us, all of them with their dogs, so 4 dogs and our surly cat roaming around. We ate and played board games until 9 pm when I put away the wine and kicked everyone out. I figured I’d done well to stay awake that long. 

Quillan is preparing for the Tour de France to visit.

On Monday, our friends Sue and Steve came for drinks. Drinks turned into dinner before they raced home to beat the 9 p.m. curfew. 

I suggested that Jo might want to drop by for a glass of blanquette on Tuesday after I finished teaching, and then invited her husband Matthew to join us for dinner as well, so they both arrived and we grilled chicken on the grill and talked late into the evening, including a bit of poetry recitation (thank you, Matthew.)

On Wednesday, the bars and restaurants opened outside in France for the first time since October. Did I have a choice but to meet Derrick early at a café where we had a café crème on the terrace overlooking the river Aude. 

The flowers grow out from the bridge each spring. 

I'd already asked the belly dancing group, which meets outside on the tennis courts, if they would feel safe having me there since we dance outside. Everyone was fine with it. Meanwhile, the husbands of the belly dancers were gathering for a drink at an outdoor bar and asked Earl to come along. 

When we finished learning some Bollywood moves, my friends urged me to join the husbands for a drink too. So, I did, drinking a monaco, beer, lemonade and grenadine, glowing a beautiful red. 

I returned home to work on taxes where my frustration grew, as you can see from my previous post. 

On Thursday, I met Derrick for a coffee again and then a drink later that day, all outside. We talked about dinner, and agree to combine our meals -- I had pork in the crock pot and he made potato salad. We made an attempt at playing Password, but my brain apparently is not over jet lag. Earl and Kris did quite well, so maybe it isn't jet lag. 

After I finished teaching on Friday, we hosted my friend Linda from Frenchless in France and a friend. It's always fun to catch up with friends from far away. 

Friday was fish and chips night. The van parks in Quillan near a local bar, the PMU. The PMU provides the drinks while the van doles out fish and chips which we must order ahead of time. We hadn't seen our American friends Jim and Theresa yet, so were happy to meet with them and walk over to fish and chips. Some red wine, some greasy chips and breaded fish. Earl and I share one order and that is plenty.  

Saturday, technically seven days after we arrived, is another market day, that meant more coffee alongside the river, plus coffee from the van that kept us in take away coffee throughout the lockdown since last October. And finally, our first real meal out in France since October 30th. We returned to Les Platanes, the restaurant we last ate at. 

The nine of us sat at two tables, a limit of six adults is in place even for outdoor tables. I ordered duck and fries, something I haven't eaten since October. We were all so happy to be out for the evening, although we remained aware of the 9 p.m. curfew. The duck was a bit overdone, but the wine flowed and I enjoyed ordering a café gourmande, a mix of desserts and tiny cup of espresso. 

Earl finished his dessert and looked my way. I loaded up the remaining cake, ice cream and chantilly (whipped cream) and sent it his way. 

It was in the midst of this week that Earl began asking when we would have a day off - and day without anything scheduled. Like a race horse in mid-stride, it took me a minute to remember that maybe he didn't feel the urge to catch up with everyone like I did. 

But we'd already committed to an afternoon at Sue and Steve's on Sunday, an afternoon that ended shortly before curfew with way too much cheese and nibbles. 

And on Monday, we planned an outing. We ended up going to the sea in the morning since the weather forecast warned of higher winds in the afternoon. The water was cold, so I satisfied my sea urge by walking in the sand. Earl and Kris went in and they report the water was breathtaking, not in a good way. 

The sparkly sea. 

After being told all the restaurants along the beach were full, it was a bank holiday, which meant no one was at work and many people were at the beach, we drove into Beziers. We'd enjoyed a stop in Bezier four years earlier when searching for a place to live. 

We found a restaurant with outdoor seating. I tried duck again and was much more pleased by the thick magret de canard cooked rare and juicy. I shared only a bit with Derrick and with his dogs, eating the whole thing. 

Yum. Hand cut fries, duck and salad. 

We finished the meal and went walking along the park that stretches through the center of the city, Plateau des poètes. A lovely walk in the sun admiring all the poets who were born in the area. The fountains are impressive. 

A moody sky over the fountain

And finally, today, Earl got his wish. A day without dinner plans. I met my friend Isa for coffee in the square this morning.

Cappuccino with chantilly

 And I might have gone to meet some other friends for a drink after they signed papers on a new house. But other than that, an evening for two stretches in front of us. 

As my British friends might say, We're rubbish at isolating. Luckily, we were vaccinated and tested so felt safe that we weren't spreading Covid. 

Homeward Bound

Five weeks slides past in the blink of an eye. 

We go from a longed-for stay with those we love in the States, to the comfort of a familiar bed and a bright kitchen, along with the sharp claws of one méchant cat. 

When we decided to live in France, we always promised ourselves we could return to the States if anyone needed us, but we hadn’t anticipated a worldwide pandemic. 

So 14 months after our last visit, we could return to this crew 

Mother's Day brunch

Tucker, Kaitlin and Spencer celebrating Mother’s Day with me at an outdoor brunch. 

We started in Florida, isolating for a few weeks to make sure we didn’t catch COVID from any of the 20 people on our flight across the Atlantic. We loved having time to hang out with Mom and Dad, plus frolic in the pool. 
I got to see so many people I love, including both my brothers.

Me and Craig

Craig traveled from Texas to visit Mom for Mother’s Day and we arrived that evening in time to share some memories. 

Kevin's birthday

My younger brother Kevin celebrated a birthday and I got to join him. 
We stayed with our friends Deb and Greg and, of course, got to attend a Blue Jackets hockey game. We had a suite to watch the game so were separate from other fan, but it seemed so close to normal. 

Blue Jackets game

A separate suite

Gathering with their family and Dave’s (our dentist and friend) family too. 

Open restaurants

We ate outdoors at restaurants from the very first night in Ohio, as the boys reminded us to eat pizza with our hands rather than with a knife and fork. We got to stay at Spence and Kaitlin’s apartment; everyone is so grown up. 

Fat Cat

Their cat Mrs Potts never took to us. 

Lovely evenings with friends around a fire, sharing stories. 

Fireside stories

Impressive creations

That is some studio, Sheila. Amazing stained glass creations are sure to come. And the beans and rice you served were delish. 

Friends and friends

Met my running friends for coffee where we talked about running and also gathered outdoors with my writing friends! I'm sensing a theme. No writing or running was accomplished during these gatherings. 

We visited with beautiful babies like Henry 

All smiles

And Elizabeth

That is one of the things we really miss in France, getting to visit with little ones. There's a café owner in Quillan with a little girl, maybe six, who will occasionally join us for a card game, but it's harder to make connections with kids than it is with French adults. 

A dental implant curtailed my activities at the end of our time in Ohio, but I healed enough to eat some home cooked meals with Mom and Dad - a Kentucky-style big breakfast. 

Who tires of Mom's homecooking? No one

Blue skies

We did a bit of work around Mom and Dad’s, but mostly we were pampered, feeling the love of a long-awaited visit. 

On Saturday night, we caught a flight in Miami and flew to Barcelona. It wasn't without its challenges. We stood in line at American Airlines for two hours before a hassled worker led us by the hand through security to catch our plane on time. 

The airport was mayhem, but the flight was over an hour early. 

Our friend Derrick came to fetch us in Barcelona. Luckily, he couldn't sleep so drove to Barcelona early.

We stopped in the Spanish town of Roses along the Mediterranean for the sea breeze and a nice lunch. 

Roses

Derrick had to get a covid test to come pick us up, so we rewarded him with a restaurant lunch. 

Restaurants in France are still closed through Wednesday. 

So nice to be home again after five weeks of shared experiences with our family and friends.