Little things I notice after being back in Europe for a bit.
Hardly anyone has shower curtains.
I don't understand this. Zero understanding. I understand the no dishwashers, the no dryers, the no garbage disposals and I definitely understand people not having cars.
But I don't understand the dearth of shower curtains. A shower curtain doesn't do anything except keep your floor from becoming flooded every time you take a shower. It liberates you to splash, gives you a hands-free experience and isn't at all expensive.
I asked Estelle why so many Europeans haven't got shower curtains.
Estelle doesn't know.
Neither do I.
Yann and Estelle both had Saturday free from work, so they drove Boy and me back to Lyon, as we'd never seen it during the day. The only glimpse I'd had was after we'd just spent five hours in a bus with a cranky German or Russian bus driver and all we wanted was to get to a place where we could sleep. And take a shower to wash away the smell of piss.
As it was the weekend, Lyon was positively bustling. Open air markets everywhere, throngs of tourists, busy restaurants with tantalizing smalls wafting into the streets.
Boy fell hard for Lyon almost immediately.
"I could spend a week just wandering these streets..." Boy said, pining for more time in Lyon.
We had lunch together at one of Lyon's many, many restaurants.
When we originally planned our trip, we hadn't even thought about visiting Yann and Estelle. It was just going to be Zurich and Geneva and then Boy flying home. But here we are, with two spectacular people eating duck at a restaurant in Lyon.
Every time I worry about a plan that's changed, I'm going to think of this moment. And then I'm going to stop worrying.
Sunday morning, Estelle made a patisserie run. And returned with pain au chocolat, croissants, and Boy's favorite dessert.
Mille-Feuille.
A dessert I once stayed up all night to try to make for Boy, but my success was... well, it wasn't comparable to what comes out of a French patisserie.
After the mille-feuille, Yann and Estelle drove us to a nearby lake for the afternoon. Boy tried windsufing for the first time.
With about as much success as I had making my mille-feuille.
Yann had a bit more success than Boy.
Boy and I prepared dinner for Jack, Yann, Estelle, and two of Yann's colleagues. It felt good to be in the kitchen again, preparing a real meal -- not just another risotto. Poached pears with a wine sauce, whipped cream and chocolate. Parsnip, pear, cream soup with parsnip and sage chips. Couscous and pork with a wine sauce, caramelized onions and broiled figs.
It was beautiful.
I can't wait to have a home in France where I can invite people for dinner parties the way I did in Colorado...
Yann worked the next day, so we said goodbye after coffee. He reiterated his desire to help us move to France, should we pursue our dream of living in Europe next year.
The dream is feeling more like a reality every day. Gosh, I hope it works out. But if it doesn't, I won't panic. I won't worry about a change of plans. I'll think about the day in Lyon and remember that just because plans change, it certainly doesn't mean that something worse is in store. It could mean getting to spend a good portion of our lives with people like Yann and Estelle.
Which would be more than okay.
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