We spent our last day packing, and sorting through the small mountain of ticket stubs, booklets, brochures and receipts, hoping to narrow the pile down a bit. Our luggage was full when we arrived 6 weeks ago, and there wasn't much room for souvenirs at the end! Rick left a trail of paperbacks around the country as he finished the books he brought to read. (We always appreciated having some reading material left behind by others, so we hoped it wouldn't be a problem.) That had created some room in his suitcase, which I quickly filled.
We had our last dinner in Villefranche at La Serre, where we had eaten before. This time the weather was cooler, so unless you were a smoker, sitting inside was preferable. Once again we had a great dinner.
I had heard a couple near us speaking English, so I leaned over and asked where they were from. They were from Colorado, and were at the mid-point of their trip. They mentioned that my accent gave me away as having grown up in the midwest. No way, I said! I've lived in Washington for 35 years! I don't have an accent! I guess I still do have a little of that Illinois accent, and I'm found out on occasion. I always love recognizing other travelers who are from the midwest though too. And, I can usually nail their accent too!
We compared travel stories, and laughed about the washing machines and toilets - each one different than the last, and in the case of washing machines usually at least a 2-hour cycle.
After chatting with them for a few minutes, another couple in the vicinity made a comment to us in English. When I said I hadn't realized they were English-speaking because they'd been talking so softly, they said, We're not speaking English! We're from Scotland! And honestly, we could hardly understand them sometimes. We did have a great chat with them about their travels, and the trips they've already got plotted out over the next two years. I was impressed! I said we didn't have any trips planned at all. The wife said we'd have to plan something right away just to get through the Post Trip Blues. She's right!
The Colorado couple had gone, but Rick and I were still enjoying talking to the Scottish couple when our cute waitress asked if we'd all like a limoncello, on the house. We would like one, we said, and we did enjoy it.
The Scots weren't looking forward to their climb up 105 stairs to their apartment. It was on the ground floor of their building, and had a great view, but their building was way up the hill.
We said good night, and hoped we'd run into them when they were in California in a few years.
Our flight wasn't leaving until noon on departure day, and the airport in Nice is small, so we didn't need to be there much in advance. A cab would be picking us up at 9:30.
One of the instructions at the apartment, and really at all of our rentals, was to empty the refrigerator when we left. They didn't want any perishables left behind, although sometimes we'd leave coffee or spices.
I thought about the elderly couple downstairs. They were really the only French people we'd interacted with who hadn't been business owners or employees. Would it be an insult if we offered them our leftover milk, butter, fruit & veggies? I was inspired to try it by Michel, from the blog Our House In Provence, who always takes leftover groceries to an elderly neighbor as they head back to the U.S.
So there I was with two bags of food, hesitating at the neighbor's door. A woman happened by on the street and started talking to me in French. I said, Je parle seulement un petit peu français! Je ne comprend pas! She said, Donner? (Give?) Oui!
She rang the bell for me, let the lady of the house know what I was there for, and went on her way. Our neighbor was in her late 80s, at least, and was about 4-1/2 feet tall. We hadn't seen each other until now. Her husband, who had visited us on two occasions, wasn't home.
She came out to greet me with a big smile. She said lots of things in French, which I didn't understand, and I let her know I didn't speak much French.
She kept saying trés gentile (very kind, very nice)
Between the few words I understood, and a little pantomime, she told me she'd heard us upstairs. She wondered if we were the proprietaires (owners). Non. She asked - loué? (rent?). Oui.
I indicated it was trés belle, or is it trés beau here - the view, the village.
Conspiratorily, she leaned toward me and asked if the apartment was trés cher (very expensive). I said non.
We talked about the rain dripping into their place. I said c'ést terrible.
After a few minutes I said, à la prochaine, which means, until next time. She brightened up. She said la prochaine année (next year)! She counted off the months that would be great times to visit. I nodded. She kissed me on both cheeks as I left.
Madame, I truly hope we'll be back. You can be sure we'll stop by to say hello if we are. That conversation was the most fun I've had trying to communicate in France.
We bid our little apartment good-bye and took one last look at the bay.
Our flight home was uneventful - and that's saying a lot for me! Maybe a little bumpy, but all-in-all a good flight. I love watching the little plane on the Trip Tracker on the movie screen at my seat. I like to keep track of what's going on in case the pilot needs a "heads-up" for any reason. I can tell you we were flying at 36,000 feet, 585 miles per hour. Our flight from London to Seattle was 9-1/2 hours long. From the time we left our apartment in Villefranche until we got to our door on Camano Island, it took 21 hours. In the flash of an eye, we had left the cafés, the croissants, the sailboats and the sunshine thousands of miles behind us.
But, you know, I always leave a little part of me in France, waiting to be found again.
Thanks for the adventure, Travel Girl-- a la prochaine.
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