I'll Meet You in Provence
A Nice Anniversary
End of May, 2009.
The Cannes Film Fest ended, the red carpets rolled up. My culinary internship came to an end. The team went out for a farewell dinner together where I had escargot for the first time. In the United States, I’d say anything fried is good. In France? Anything drowning in butter is a win.
The next morning I woke early, packed my bags, and hurried downstairs to wait for my ride. I wasn’t heading to the airport for my trip home just yet.
The end of the film festival happily coincided with our wedding anniversary. While I was sleeping, G was on a plane headed to Nice.
He pulled the Citroën rental to the curb and swept me up for a week together in Provence.
We made Aix-en-Provence our home base and wandered the countryside. We strolled and sipped and lounged. We drove down to Marseilles for the day so I could see what Julia Child saw after reading her book, My Life in France.
We lazily headed back toward Nice at the end of our trip, staying in a cute beachfront hotel.
Reminiscing about this time in France has put a big smile on my face and a few tears in my eyes.
Sometimes I still can’t believe this happened. But now I’ve shared three posts with photographic evidence. See, Kim? You did it.
Now that years have passed, I see my two trips to France as bookends.
My very first trip in 2005 (with G, of course) and my Cannes trip in 2009 buffeted the time in between, the time of Dad’s stroke, caregiving, grieving.
I’ll always associate moviegoing with my Dad. He would’ve been over the moon for me with the news of my culinary internship at the Cannes Film Festival.
I have no memory of my mom’s reaction to the internship, my time in Cannes. How is that possible? What I considered big news items in my life didn’t seem to elicit a reaction. Or a memorable one, anyway.
Life with these two people as my parents, whether married or divorced, was a trip in itself.
I haven’t had the chance to go overseas again since these French adventures. My passport is renewed and ready though. Come to think of it, so am I.
What a wonderful memory and achievement! And Versailles, only in my dreams. Love your writing.
For what it’s worth, I remember this great accomplishment of yours and was so very proud of you!