Bonjour, France. I’m baaaack!
It was mid February, the sun blazing and warming the air to a perfect 50 degrees Fahrenheit, a welcomed heat wave against the arctic blast of this Midwest winter.
And there I was, suddenly transplanted into the French countryside, riding shotgun along the Route touristique du champagne. Life just felt crazy, beautiful.
From the very start of our drive through the Champagne region of France, my mind was running the opening scene from Beauty and the Beast on repeat.
“Little town, it’s a quiet village
Every day like the one before
Little town full of little people
Waking up to say:
Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!”
I could barley recall the standby saga I had undergone in the days before; the twelve hours of misfortune and oversold flights as I tried to get to Chicago for my international flight; the eight-hour overnight Megabus ride through Ohio and Indiana; and then the sweet score of a First Class seat to Brussels. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. Nothing was going to stop me from sipping Champagne all weekend with my love.
Driving through the sleeping villages of Champagne was a picturesque escape. Cruising along the winding roads, snapping photos, sipping Champagne…c’est magnifique. I can only imagine the beauty of the sweeping vineyards when those famous grapes make their seasonal debut.