October 13, 2006

Bonjour!

After 24 hours of travel, almost as many Zanax, a few cocktails and much gnashing of teeth, I arrived at St. Charles de Gaulle airport. As I deplaned, I silently congratulated myself on having traveled ½ way around the world all by my lonesome and actually making it without a breakdown. Given that I don’t speak a word of French, the plan, complete with Paris Hilton innuendo, was for me to spend the night at the airport Hilton and wait for Kim’s arrival the next day. We would then travel to Provence together. Although I was staggering, I managed to collect my luggage, exchange my cash, and make my way to the shuttle pick up point for my hotel. The shuttle arrived, I made it to the hotel, checked in, got to my room and realized 1) I was in France, and 2) I was starving. I quickly grabbed the room service menu hopeful that it would be filled with French delights. My first hope in France was flung through my 9th floor window and smashed onto the parking lot below as I scanned a menu of Caesar Salad, Ravioli with Pesto Cream Sauce, and Hot Wings. Sighing what I can only imagine to be the sigh of the room service weary business traveler, I picked up the phone and ordered. Twenty minutes later I was enjoying my first meal in France: A cheeseburger, french fries, a pickle, and of course, a delightful Cote-du-Rhone. Bon Appetit.