Of course it wouldn’t be right if we didn’t show you what

we had after our lunch.

I mean….really.

It would outright RUDE of us if we didn’t tell you about

our ECLAIR.

Chocolate Eclair.

Filled with the most amazing soft whipped chocolate mousse.

There….do you feel better now….i mean…

i was only thinking of you.

We stepped out of the car and practically died.

Died and went to heaven.

We were thinking….when do we call our families and tell

them we are now French residents and they have no choice but

to move to St. Remy to be with us.

Bryan hung up on me.

Kim’s husband didn’t even answer the phone.

whatever.

This rambling 19th-century farmhouse is surrounded by olive trees…

a pool…fountains…and the rooms have original stonework.

{history on the Mas for you}

So….when we walked into the place we were expecting to meet Pierre.

Not to be confused with Jean-Pierre.

Pierre was the “gentlemen” we were having our relations with

on and off for the last few months.

{alright…that sounded totally innapropriate…}

what i meant was…..Pierre was the guy we were chatting with

on and off about our stay.

Instead….me met Karin.

Now…don’t get me wrong……Karin was fabulous.

She gave us a tour of the property…

she gave us directions to the brocante that we were heading to the next day…

she was our hostess at dinner…

she was our sommelier at dinner.

She was Karin.

She was not Pierre.

Kim and i had talked about Pierre the ENTIRE trip.

We knew what he was going to look like…..we knew how old he was…

we knew he didn’t speak great English…but his French was perfection.

We were excited to meet the elusive Pierre….

but instead we met Karin.

Okay….maybe i never spoke with Pierre myself…

maybe Kim did all the talking…

but Pierre took my emails.

Yes he did.

The best part of our stay here in this Mas…was the food.

At 7:30 every evening the guests may have dinner in the

dining room of the mas.

On this night…we were having guineafowl.

We were fashionably late.

We even thought…..and i mean.. thought….

long and hard about …

loading everything up from the dining room in the middle of the night

into our car and driving off into the night.

Except we had nowhere to go.

We would have gone right over to Vicki’s…

but she was in Australia visiting her father.

So we asked Karin instead….for the name of the company

where they had ordered the linens….

and she was more then willing to share the info.

No need to steal in the middle of the night.

Kim and i spent our first evening fashionably late to our first dinner.

Karin seated us…..

Karis served us our first bottle of wine…

then we met Jaque.

Jaque was the sous chef….and also the server.

{we do not have a photo of Jaque because we did not bring our camera to dinner…

just think…Paul walker+george clooney}

Jaque made trying new things like sardines and raw scallops bearable.

The guineafowl was like free range chicken…

except it was French free range chicken.

I also didn’t see them tooling around like i did the pigeon in Paris.

Not that i don’t like seeing my birds run free….

but when i have the song from Mary Poppins in my head the entire week…

‘feed the birds….

tuppins a bag…..tuppins….tuppins….tuppins a bag’

it doesn’t make the dining experience much better.

Kim ordered more wine.

I obliged.

I’m a good friend.

After dessert of fromage….

and a trio of chocolate….

with perhaps….a bit more wine and a cafe creme…

we headed back up to our room.

We staked out our beds…..

Kim needing to be closest to el bain….

something to do with having a loose bladder.

oops….did i just give something away?

No…really….she just wanted to be near the bidet.

Trust me….we were the cleanest girls in France that weekend.

After a great nights sleep listening to the fountain in the courtyard all night..

we awoke to a farmhouse breakfast.

French style.

Oeufs.

Oeufs with chocolate croissants…

and provencal tomatoes.

{let me wipe the saliva from my mouth….}

We needed a healthy breakfast because we were driving

to the brocante.

Errrrrrr…..

i mean Kim was driving us to the brocante..

After a lovely breakfast of Chocolate croissants with our coffee..

we hit the streets.

We hadn’t gotten very far when Simone and I turned around because

Kim wasn’t with us.

She was a few blocks behind….limping.

She had some really cute black ballet flats on that had decided to give her blisters.

I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned this before…

but i don’t do so well with the whole blood and hanging skin thing.

I realize i USED to work in the nursing field…

but what you don’t know is that i was constantly being fired.

It’s not my fault i vomited all over an oozing arm.

I actually tried to pay someone to have my babies for me…

but no one offered.

Luckily for that epidural….i think my ob gave it to me a week ahead

of time….

it sure helped.

Sheesh!

Where did my mind go…

how did Kim’s oozing blisters get me on a rampage about birthing babies?

My apologies.

Anyhoo….

Simone and i looked at each other…then with each of us supporting Kim…

we accompanied her into a pharmacie.

French pharmacies are not like walking into a Walgreen’s or Cvs…

no…

the pharmacies are like walking into an Origins shop.

French lotions and creams…beauty supplies…

and all manned by a good looking French pharmacist.

Kim bought the French band aids…

and tried to get Franc {the pharmacist}

to assist her in putting them on.

Franc did not end up helping Kim put her band aids on….

not even batting her big ole eyelashes helped.

{i think it’s because he was hoping i would ask for his help}

Once we got the blistering oozing mess taken care of…

we headed to the Metro station.

This is the part where i really fell in love with Simone.

{i’m a total advocate of having a second wife….just saying}

Simone knows how to read the metro maps.

we don’t.

we would still be at the airport trying to figure things out.

We decided to head to the Sacre-Cour which is on the north side of Paris…

not because we really wanted to see the most gorgeous church

perched on a hill…

or see the historic architecture….

or attend the mass that was being held when we arrived.

No

We were going because we had seen someones photo on Etsy..

of the Eiffel Tour from a distance..and knew from looking

at a map that it had to have been taken

from Sacre-Cour.

Note: We have no plans in copying the girl who took this photo…

nor do we have any intention in selling the so called photo if we achieved

the same look.

I state this because once we got to the top of Sacre-Cour…

we realized that we were mistaken.

The French government started building this church in 1873 as a symbol of the return

of self-confidence after the devastating years of the Commune and Franco-Prussian war.

{just a bit of history being thrown out to you}

So…

If you are afraid of heights….then feel free to scroll down a ways.

Kim and i had to climb 300 teeeny…tiiiny steps that wrapped around

and around…in and out of dark halls to get to the top of Sacre-Cour.

Simone decided to wait at the bottom.

Simone was smart.

Simone also met a nice French man while we were sweating our tushes off

climbing the 300 steps to the top.

Obviously…climbing all these steps and almost vomiting because of the fear

of heights didn’t appeal to Simone.

Meeting a French man did though.

Even though we were sweating….

and out of breath…

with the thought of vomiting…

oh..

and deathly afraid we might fall off the small ledges..

we made it.

Gorgeous.

I introduce you to my French lover….

Le Tour Eiffel

I believe i might have had some perfume in my bag…

and spritzed it on for this monumental occasion.

I even asked Kim if she would kiss me…..

just for the sheer purpose of being a romantic…

and seeing the power that the Eiffel had over me.

Kim said…NO…

then she walked away.

I really don’t remember how much time we spent at the top…

not just because we were taking in the views….

or that i could literally stare at the Eiffel all day long…

no…

it was because we had to climb all the way down.

300 stairs narrow little stairs down.

I know for a fact that we lost about 5 pounds on that climb…

and as soon as we reached the bottom

i announced it was time for some wine.

Since it was only 11 am…the girls didn’t think drinking wine sounded like such

a good idea.

Whatever.

So we settled on walking around Montmartre.

It was gorgeous…beautiful…charming.

Full of artists selling their wares.

Signs everywhere stating NO PHOTOS from the artists.

Kim tried to sneak one…..

and was reprimanded immediately and had to delete the photo.

Obviously…no art was purchased from him.

We had our first crepe from a vendor…..

then miandered around the cobbled streets.

There was always somewhere charming to stop and get our Cafe creme.

After our perusing in and out of little streets..we came upon

a sidewalk full of discarded treasures.

We encountered Fabien and his team hauling the contents of

an abanded cellar to the street.

Old French doors….

beautiful paned windows….

stacks of vintage literature.

All being tossed out for garbage.

It was so hard for us to watch this……

knowing all we could do is stand and watch.

This is where we really wished we had purchases a box that we could

ship some of these things back to the states with us.

Oh well….

and i swear i saw the some of the same doors at the brocante we went

to in the south of France!

At least Fabien was nice enough to let us photograph the street treasures…

i even think Kim got a good photo of Fabien and his team for sentimental purposes..

From there we headed past the Louve….

and i waved as we walked by….

then we walked thru Gallaries Lafayette…

{which is the most amazing French department store}

perused thru E. Dehillerin…..

{which if you are like me and LOVE to cook…then this historic quaint kitchen shop is for you}

then stopped for wine and mussles.

A huge vat of mussles…..

and a bottle {or two} of wine.

I believe this is the point where Simone and Kim looked at each other…

then they looked at me….

and stated that…

when in France..do as the French do….

and smoke a French cigie.

I said…..WHOA….

wait a minute….i haven’t had a cigarette in at least 13 years.

Isn’t smoking bad for you…..

don’t you get wrinkles from smoking…

i’m an athlete….i shouldn’t be smoking.

Trouble makers i tell you….really bad influences on me.

{now…if these girls start to dispute the story and turn it around by saying

it was me that suggested smoking the French cigie’s…then by all means..

please feel free to take sides….}

Alright….

the truth is…

it was me

all me

I held them down and made them buy the French cigies

i was the bad influence.

Shame on me!

It’s amazing they are still talking to me…

There is something about a french man….

on his vespa…

reading the paper…

smoking a cigie.

A well dressed man…that is.

While we were walking around.. we passed by this detective agency…

i thought the signs were fabulous.

It was then we started chatting about French lovers.

I don’t really know how walking by a detective agency…

talking about French vespa riding men smoking cigies…

could get us on the subject of French lovers….

but it did.

Did you know it’s semi normal in France to be happily married…

but to also have a French lover on the side?

Maybe i should call the French president to get the dirt?

Us girls had a pretty open talk at dinner that night….

about our husbands…and lives.

We opened up our hearts and chatted life.

All it took was walking by a detective agency to do that…

amazing.

The following morning we decided…

WE MUST GET SOME MACRONS.

We were given a numerous amount of places recomended by friends of

places to buy our macrons. On the top of the list was Laduree.

We had walked by it the day before…

but we were told that we had to try Pierre Hermes for their macrons.

Pierre was to have had the best macrons in the city.

Well…….

we took a taxi….then walked about 500 blocks to find Pierre Hermes….

only to walk in and i am sure that their macrons were fabulous…

but

the feeling of walking into Lauderee was vastly different.

Laduree

I could say it over and over.

The packaging was gorgeous….

the little pink and green boxes remind me of the little blue box.

{not that i’ve ever recieved anything in a little blue box…}

I have since dreamt about the salted caramel macrons…

i think we had barely made it out of the shop and down the street before

we had eaten every single one.

Real French macrons from Laduree.

I used to tell my girlfriends that the macrons from Trader Joe’s were good.

I even thought i would go to T.J’s and fill the famous little pink box with

macrons fro my friends…considering i ate EVERY single macron within minutes..

but …really….

what kind of friend is that?

{it’s not out of the question though…not yet}

I believe i even ordered the macrons myself that day….

“Je Veux un avocat”…

but i guess i ordered wrong….

i ordered a lawyer.

Simone had to step in and help me get the caramel macrons…

because really…..

what good would a lawyer do me.

After we chowed down on our macrons…

we walked by the Arc de Triomphe…

and headed to Champs-Elysees.

The Champs-Elysees is a busy street full of high end shops

and restaurants.

Beautiful…but i prefered the smaller quaint boutiques tucked

in and around the cobblestoned streets.

We walked it though…to say we did.

I believe our feet were going numb at this point…

at least Kim’s feet were.

This is really why the French stay so thin…

they really do walk everywhere…

and they smoke.

But they like cheese…

and i like cheese…

so i don’t get it.

I walk to the mailbox every day…

i walk from the car to the market.

why am i not skinny?

Maybe i should start smoking those French cigie’s again.

{i might not have a husband though….}

We made it back to the hotel and had just put our feet up.

I think we had only rested for about…

oh…

a minute…

before Kim and I decided we had to head to a cemetary.

We knew of the famous one where Jim Morrison is buried..

but we wanted one a little more simple.

It was 5:30..and we knew the closest cemetary closed at 6.

Crazy…i know….

but Kim and i have a love for old…

a love for beauty.

We walked around and took in the beauty.

It was peaceful.

quiet.

full of history.

life.

There really was life here…

dating back to 1600.

We did make it over to see Le Tour Eiffel in person.

I tried not to kiss it……

or kiss Kim for that matter.

Anyhoo…..

we left the airport and hopped on the metro for Paris.

We thought we were so “french” to be able to walk right on over and

hop on the train all by ourselves without asking for help.

I mean really…..

all the tourists were in lines for the taxi or waiting for shuttles.

Not us.

We were taking the metro.

We jumped on…grabbed some seats and off we went.

Now let me just pipe in here for a minute and remind you that i don’t speak

French….nor do i understand it.

Oh…i can get by all right…with my few basic words and knowledge..

but it really is quite embarrassing.

Kim is the girl that knows the language and i totally relied on her the entire trip.

She’ll thank me later…

really…it was for her own good to travel with a novice…

i mean….

now she can consider herself fluent.

Ahem.

Where was i?

Oh…the metro.

Yes….we were on our way into Paris.

We were chatting along…catching up on old times….

when on the overhead speaker i heard the word…

STRIKE

now being the non french speaking part of the duo…

that is one word ..i believe…is the same in all languages.

STRIKE.

{i would later learn that workers in France strike for everything….}

Our train slowed down…and came to a stop at a station.

At this point….even though we heard the word strike…

we just thought we would let the people getting off here at this station

and carry on.

The weird thing was…..everyone got off but us.

We just sat there…looking at each other.

yup.

ho hum.

But then people started getting back on….

and we wiped our brows …saying to each other…its fine…

we’re off.

The problem was…

the train started heading back toward the airport.

I think this is the point where we looked at each other and were thinking

we should have just taken a taxi.

Like all the other tourists.

Anyway…

we hopped off at the next station…

and decided at that point…

to just take a taxi.

{free tip: there is nothing wrong with taking a taxi}

We made it to our hotel around 2 pm and the hotel was

located in the 5th arrondissment….and our hotel was very nice…

and very modern. We were about 6 blocks from The Pantheon….and walkable

to the 6th Arrondissement which was our favorite area. The 6th had small

shops and cafe’s which did not have a tourist feel and felt very quaint.

As soon as we checked in…..

you got it…

we walked outside and on the corner was a darling cafe.

We parked ourselves…

ordered our first taste of Paris.

to be continued……