“Open every Sunday.” Just one of the many reasons to love Paris.
I woke early enough to spot Jupiter or perhaps Mars outside the window, a little before dawn. Tony cautiously asked, “How are you feeling?” My head felt like the size of the Hindenburg, but the rest of me felt human. Four cups of tea and some remaining Bûche de Noël later (Hey, feed a cold and starve a fever, right?) and we were all cheerily bundled and heading to the Festival du Merveilluex.
Just as they have done for the past 16 years, the “children” woke at 0500 to see what Santa had brought.
Christmas Eve. There is always something to do in Paris that has not been done before.
While chatting with a friend in late autumn we mutually discovered that her visiting family was looking for a place to stay over Christmas, while we were looking for someplace to travel for the holiday. The plan was born.
We were so BORED driving through Switzerland that the local Swiss folk music actually entertained us.
Alas, we missed the running of the bulls in our Provence village by one day. Perhaps next year.
Meringues in the window of the village boulangerie. Only €2,50 for all that sweet, airy goodness.
Jack struggled with the French version of “coffee.”
An old French Monopoly game kept Jack and Anna Grace amused on pool breaks. Spending 50.000 French Francs on a hotel was fun!
Downtime in the yard.
Interesting journal in one of the paper and book shops we browsed.
Ours is not, but the sign was cute nonetheless.
A few scenes from Avignon, home to the Catholic Church before the smack down Pope-Off with Rome.
Way too many of these signs everywhere we traveled. At least the Austrians have a sense of humor about road construction.
The morning journey home through the Tirol and Salzburgland.
Homeward bound and a beautiful finish to one of our favorite European holidays ever.