I must apologize for the length of time between my posts, but I really have a good excuse…really, I promise. You see, the hubby and I were finally able to travel to France. Now, France is my absolute most favorite place in the entire world. I kid you not. I am of French ancestry, but it is more than that. If I believed in reincarnation, I would insist that I was French in my very last past life.
I have a deep affinity with France and all things French. I never get lost in France, especially Paris, even though I can get lost in the town I have lived in for most of my life. I never get tired of French foods, or drinks, or soaps, or perfumes, or architecture, or, or, or. The list of French things that I never grow tired of is endless. Literally. I can get a whiff of something undefined and it will transport me back to the France of one of my many visits. I carry all of that in my memories, my mind, my very DNA.
We didn’t get to go to France in 2019, because we had so much going on. Had I known 2020 was going to be a complete bust, I would have carved out a couple of weeks to go. Obviously, last year was not a year to travel anywhere, including France. But, that was okay, because I knew we were going this year. Well, one trip was canceled a month ago, and I was sitting on pins and needles to see if this trip would make it from the planning stage to the fulfillment stage.
I am happy to say that France did not close down, the flights still carried happy Americans to their French happy places, and we were among them. Our flight over was about three-fourths full, which I found interesting since the United States government was trying desperately to tell Americans not to go to France. I guess others listen as well as we do.
We flew American Airlines, which is my favorite (American) airlines to fly. The flight attendants were wonderful. The pilots were in top form. The plane was one of the new Boeing Dreamliners. A great aircraft, if I do say so myself. The biggest disappointment was the food. It was awful. I got the pasta and my husband got the chicken. Neither was any good. Both were so highly spiced that I couldn’t eat either. My husband had a few bites of each and then gave up. Elementary school cafeteria food gets a higher ranking than that mess.
Sleeping on the new Dreamliner was actually quite comfortable. The main cabin had wide enough seats that reclined as well as shifting forward slightly to take strain off the back. We were provided a blanket and a pillow, which was exciting for us because we had heard the airlines were not going to continue to provide those due to COVID.
When we awoke, it was breakfast time. I was excited because I adore French food, especially croissants. What a disappointment. The second meal was even more of a let down than the first. There was no croissant. No French butter. No French jam. There was yogurt, but it was terrible. It tasted like pink-colored mush. There was a fig newton-like cookie. Really? For breakfast? There was something else in there that was absolutely unmemorable, as evidenced by the fact that neither of us can even remember what it was. American Airlines really dropped the ball on this.
Ah, but when we disembarked, we were in Paris! Which you will be able to read about next week. So come on back then to get your Paris fix.