We got back from France (and Italy) just over a week ago. In the process, we evaded the brutal heat that is hitting parts of Europe now, we met three conversation partners whom I had never met in person before (one of whom gave me two massive books about Italian cooking and about the history of her seaside ville, and another of whom gave me a delightful commemorative T shirt for the French win in the World Cup; both are much appreciated, but I have to say that the T shirt is particularly close to my heart because the colors on the sleeve can be read as ours (red/white/blue) or theirs (blue/white/red; it is a quiet giggle for me to think that I'm wearing a shirt with the French colors on it, and no one knows it)
Plus, we got to see our friends in Toulouse, and stay on their farm for a few days -- hot, beause people there don't believe in air conditioning, but still quite nice; we got to see our friends in Bourgogne (arranged so that we would not be in Paris for 14 July, instead seeing the local fireworks -- that didn't work out, because the wife was recovering from some emergency surgery, but it was still good), we got to see my friend the Sorbonne doctorante, and, perhaps most notably, we got to stay with the family of our French exchange student, which was simultaneously overwhelming -- they are very nice, very generous people who stunned us on more than one occasion - and heartbreaking - I had to admit to myself that except for the occasional trip, I'm not going to see her ever again, which saddened me a lot. I know, I know, her life is there, not here. She's their daughter, not ours. Still, the part of me that still believes in Santa thought that maybe, maybe.....
But overall, it was a very nice trip.
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