Up and off to the airport right on time. The streets of Paris were empty, but an accident backed things up near CDG, so things evened out and we arrived right on time.
No lines at the Air France counters, so we were through check in and security early and took up residence in the Air France lounge. While it was only 9 am, we figured the occasion called for Champagne, and had a few glasses before boarding the 747 (my favorite airplane) for the flight home. A mechanical problem delayed takeoff by about 45 minutes, but soon we watched as France receded. What a difference the food service operation makes. While the Air France meal we had on our flight from JFK to Paris was just barely edible, the lunch served on the trip home was excellent. We snoozed, drank good wine, and watched a few movies, then it was time to land in Miami.
A fairly quick trip through Immigration and Customs, and we were on our way home. When we opened the back door there was a blur of black, white, and brindle fur with a “baby” in its mouth and little cries of joy at seeing human mom and dad again. It went on for a full five minutes – what a wonderful welcome home.
Given the six-hour time difference, it was now almost midnight, “our time.” We had a light snack, watched some TV, and turned in. Tomorrow we return to our 4:30 wake-up for the Boca dialysis clinic.
We woke up at about 3 am (9 am Eygalieres time) Monday morning, and puttered around until it was time for me to go to the clinic. David picked me up around 9 am, and we both started getting settled back into our U.S. home. Loads of wash, putting things away, and a trip to the market to re-stock the house took up most of the day. Being Memorial Day, almost everything was closed, so we ended up at Uncle Julio’s in Mizner Park for Tex-Mex food. Quite a change from what we had been having. Dinner was a salad, then we turned in early.
By Tuesday, my craving for pasta got the best of me. The only Italian food I had in the last three weeks was risotto at l’Aubergine, so I was ready. After our early morning doctor appointments, and David’s noon haircut, we headed to our favorite Italian restaurant, Sapori. I had called Marco, the chef/owner, who loves Lucy and lets her sit with us inside, so they were ready for us. It was great to see Marco again. The three of us were seated at “Lucy’s” banquette and chowed down on bucatini alla Gricia (guanciale, onions, and garlic) followed by Halibut pizziaola. As usual, everything was terrific.
We miss Provence, but it’s nice to be home again. Lucy agrees.