the goélands follow you everywhere. even to the staten island ferry in new york city. they make you smile.
the french, you’ve discovered, have an obsession with stalking squirrels.
looks of confusion, of excitement, of curiosty appear as the french discover sticky buns.
the french comment about how ubiquitous the american flag is. “on aime beaucoup notre pays, mais on n’a pas besoin de mettre un drapeau partout! nous, on aime notre pays avec le fromage, le vin…” is the argument one frenchie brings up.
[we love our country a lot, but we don’t need to put up a flag everywhere! us, we love our country with cheese, wine…]
days are spent strolling.
nights are spent reserving and buying tickets for broadway shows, baseball games, and greyhound buses.
the sun comes out.
the highline is where you head.
an ancient railroad track is converted with wild plants as a pedestrian walkway.
a nice method of blending the city with some nature.
if you can’t get to nature, bring nature to you.
art installations line the walk as well.
painted bricks catch your eye.
where does time go? you are already at the end of your two week french reunion. with the end comes the usual goodbyes, but it is also time to… faire les comptes. [do bookkeeping]
receipts are brought out. calculators are used. numbers are written down. who paid for what, who owes what, this is when it all becomes sorted. an illegal gambling operation is what it looks more like as money is passed left and right and to and fro.
then, one of your saddest moments. they leave. this is the last time you see your frenchies.
you don’t bawl, but your cheeks are definitely not dry.
hugs. kisses. and instead of “à la prochaine” everybody says “au mali” to you.
and you know they’ll keep their word.
then you head back to D.C. where you are greeted by a coq au vin.
then more one-on-one time.
then a “see you in mali!” instead of “goodbye.”
then you head toward the airport.