Nous sommes arrivés, mes amis! (We have arrived, my friends.) And if you’re impressed by my amazing French language recall, don’t be. After eight whopping years of French teachers beating me over the head with masculine, feminine, passé composé and conditionnel, I had to type that sentence into my trusty language app on my smartphone and translate it into French. Because eight years means nothing when the language sits there, unused and discarded, like a day-old baguette.
We’re heeere! Last night, we flew 5 hours, stopped over in Iceland, and then flew another 2 or so hours into France. The flight was just fine and it was nice to experience my new best friend, Iceland, once again.
Right now, as we sit in our lovely borrowed flat for next seven or so days, jet lag consumes us, as well as unpacking and readying ourselves for the days to come. Nevertheless, I glance out of the window and I see Paris before me. Heavy eyelids or not, it’s good to be back after 12 years. Can’t beat that view.
Allons-y. (Let’s go, and that one came from memory. Imagine that.)