Wait, sorry, I didn't mean YOU don't like me.
It's someone else.
Someone big and beautiful. Someone who likes fine pastries and crusty baguettes. Someone who knows wine should be consumed at lunch. And dinner. And maybe breakfast.
That's right.
France doesn't like me.
And, like the self-denying girl who just won't give up on the guy continually blowing her off, it took me a while to realize this.
But I'm wising up to you France.
So what's brought me to this conclusion? Like that self-denying girl finally getting a clue, I started adding up the hints.
Hint #1
First hint: my first trip to France. A four-night whirlwind stint in Paris.
We'd gotten a little apartment. While out on our first day (probably with several stops to various Monoprix) the power went out.
This was prior to the days of texting every five seconds and going around with a cell phone like it's a newly formed body part.
So it was a tiny fiasco to get in touch with our "landlord".
Who then showed up and accused us of breaking the power. And who wouldn't believe us when we said we'd been out all day. Who then accused us again of using electrical appliances that didn't work with the electrical system, like we were running some sort of nuclear fission experiment in the apartment.
Anyway, I didn't see it then, but maybe this should have been my first clue of the anti-Tammie sentiment France has.
Hints #2-4
Moving forward to our second trip to France. This time a two-and-a-half week journey to Strasbourg, Lyon, Carcassonne, and Arles.
While this was a fun trip, there were a few hitches, including...
- Nearly being brained in Lyon when a large piece of metal pipe fell from a fourth-story work site and landed mere inches from me.
- Flooding in the south that wiped out the rail lines we needed to get from Carcassonne to Arles, leaving us "trapped" in Carcassonne for two extra days (we eventually made it out when our "landlady" drove us all the way to Arles).
- Contracting something VERY nasty that left me sick (this was late 2019, so COVID? Who knows, all I know is it was BAD and the worst icky I'd ever had).
Hard to resist, no?
Hint #5 ???
But like I said, we did have a ton of fun on that trip and Mr Husband and I have wanted to go back ever since.
Which is why France created a whole pandemic to keep me out of the country.
Seriously, if anyone out there is wondering where COVID came from...you might want to look at this angle.
Hint #6
But finally, FINALLY, earlier this year we dared to try to go to France. I had a new passport after the US State Department held it hostage for months on end. We have vaccines and boosters. We had bellies ready for pastries....
And then our flight was cancelled.
You think I'd take the hint.
Nope.
Seriously, I'm either insanely stubborn or insanely stupid.
Maybe a little of both.
Because very soon after this cancellation, we booked ANOTHER trip to France.
What can I say, we really like French pastries and were determined to get some!
The Final Hint
We thought we were going to make it. We really did. We had day trips planned, we had train schedules in hand, we had boulangeries mapped out.
So many boulangeries.
But....France.
They may have let the Germans in all those years ago, but they were damned well determined to keep me on the other side of their borders.
Because a couple weeks ago they told Delta to change our flights, giving us impossible-to-make connections.
And just when I thought I had the problem sorted so we could still get to France, Delta changed another of our flights.
It may have taken a while, but I finally got the hint: France doesn't like me.
Perhaps they were worried I'd empty out their boulangeries?
Coming to My Senses
Anyway, I do realize this isn't just a "me" issue. Flights are screwed up all over the place, and the advice is to take non-stop flights if you can.
Unfortunately, I live in Portland, Oregon, meaning our selection of international direct flights is slimmer than a Fashion Week model.
But we do have a direct flight to The Netherlands (and that allows me to still use those Delta tickets).
So, fingers crossed, in a couple months, Mr Husband and I are off to eat cheese, climb crazy steep stairs, and gawk at windmills.
And, yes, I will be hunting down pastries in every Dutch bakery I pass!
Because as they always say, you can lead a girl away from France, but you force her to go pastry-free.
Wait, that's not how that goes, is it?
So, plans have changed for now, but the moment France lets her guard down...
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