The World is Your Oyster

Thonon-les-Bains, France, in summer.


I can't believe myself. In the original itinerary of my circumnavigational trip, I hadn't incorporated my true love, France. Luckily, I added a month to my overall trip and am spending nearly two weeks here near the French Alps, on lake Geneva. The beauty of my current surroundings rival that of Seattle - a wonderful and bustling city set among mountains and water. Yet this place has baguettes, French wine abound, and cheese. Can life be any more grand?

With my French grandma, Marie Madeline, out on a walk.
I spent Easter weekend in the sweet country home of my friend Krystel's mom's boyfriend, Mike. Don't you love having connections? Mike is an Englishman, well, a Chech whose native langage is English, who has lived in France for nearly 30 years. I do believe he was delighted to host an Anglophone, as he sought me out for conversation throughout the weekend. All together we were 10 people, all family save Mike and me, yet we were of course treated as though relatives. We went for walks in the countryside with Mike's two dogs, who understand only English. It was incredibly amusing to hear the kids commanding the dogs "zeet!" instead of "sit," and "cuhm ere." The holiday, as all good holidays are, was focused around eating. When we weren't eating we were preparing the next meal. Accostomed to my gauche American customs, I filled myself up when we we sat down for the meal. "What a good appetite the American has!" they would laugh. I had forgotten that there were several courses still ahead of me. I was content with the large amount (and large variety, I might add) of food from the first course, and then oh là là, they brought out MORE food. I ate again. And then MORE food! It wouldn't stop! Not to mention, Krystel's mom practically force fed me; she's one of those women whose sole pleasure in life, it seems, is derived from watching people eat. We ate tartine, chicken, salad, potatoes, cheese, beans, several different kinds of dessert, lunch and dinner, 3 days in a row. I make it sound easy and simple, but do remember this is France, and these dishes have the innate French complexity you'll find in a good wine: 10 different flavors at once. The others were stragetic and ate little in the morning; but waking up to coffee, croissants, and pain au chocolat, how can you ask me to eat a light breakfast? Perhaps it worked to my disadvantage that I was willing to try everything and liked everything, because at each meal I'd leave the table uncomfortably full.