We arrived home from our trip to Paris on Friday afternoon. Yes, that Friday. Upon arrival, our phones blew up with concerned texts from friends and family. Our newly beloved Paris was under attack as we headed home from her. As a matter of fact, we had spent the previous day wandering the neighborhood near Bataclan, the concert venue of the attacks. We'd gone to see an exhibit at a tiny gallery in the area. Having just been there makes the attacks more closely felt and more heartbreaking to Rob and to me.
Our trip was simply blissful. The hotel room was tiny and romantic and the building itself elegant. There was barely room in it to do a decent yoga practice (but I worked it out); the view was a lovely flower-boxed building across the street from us, and we listened to French voices wafting through our balcony window as we drifted to sleep each night. My French was adequate, which was exciting.
According to my Fitbit, we logged between 20,00 and 33,000 steps a day to all the must-see sites, along with many neighborhoods were we found ourselves lost without caring. The steps (and a solo early morning run along the Seine) offset the macarons (Laduree.....yum!), red wine, croissants at each breakfast, hot milk in my coffee, and simply-fresh-delicious french food at every meal. There might have been a Nutella crepe that happened too. Not a pound gained during a week of less organized exercise and more foot intake.....that is reason to celebrate.
All in all, this trip was what it was meant to be: An adventure that was lovely, restful, and a great getaway for two marrieds with kids, etc. More details later as we complete our re-entry....which takes awhile.....BUT, the kids survived (and missed us as much as we missed them: a lot); the house was clean; the laundry was done; the dog remembered us. Not so shabby!
Good to be home!
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