Ze holidays, part 2

Day 12: I get a ride on a BIG motorbike for the first time in ages, bloody good. Then I remember that as soon as I get back on my island I get to drive a stupid 50cc Vario again. Booh. I spend the weekend with friends, catching up, playing with the kids, eating more delicious food and other nice things. I am starting to feel a bit tight in my jeans. For the 25th time, I answer the following: "Gosh you are BLOOOONDE!" (I know, I can't help it), and "But that's impossible, you dyed your hair right?" (No, I didn't, because otherwise it would look even and the same color everywhere and not like this. One of my friend's daughter told me that my hair is funny because it is two different colors. Well, that consoles me, at least it's funny.)


Day 14: more friends, more food and drinks, more happiness.


Day 15: so I have booked a train to Marseille for the wedding I am attending on Saturday, but of course as it is France and I come back once a year, to annoy me there has been a train strike for a week already. My train is cancelled and I am kindly informed my ticket will be refunded. That, of course, is not taking me to Marseille. For once bless Air France, for an indecent amount of money I book a flight for the next day and I pack my fancy shoes and my dresses to be a decent maid of honor. After all this is the whole reason why I am in France in the first place, I'm not gonna let a strike get in my way!


Day 16: after 24 hours on the shore, going to the beach, drinking coffees in front of the ocean, I realize how much Paris is now too much. How could I live there for over a decade, in this craziness, stress, concrete everywhere? I missed the ocean so bad. More coffees with friends, it's sunny and bright, for the first time since I'm here I am wearing a skirt, yay!

Later that day:

- You're happy over there?

- Yes, I'm happy.

- You look happy (and blonde).

- That's because I'm happy (and half blonde).

- I'm happy for you.


Day 17: one day to go before the ceremony, today my friends are getting married at the city hall. The day starts by waking up at 6.30 with their baby, then some running around to set up stuff, pick up stuff, organize stuff. Finally we get to the city hall, most of the friends that live far away (Colombia, Thailand, Guinea-Bissau, and me!) are here and it's awesome and there is lot of hugging and laughing going on, they both say "yes" and we all go drink to celebrate. Then of course, the guys insist on watching the football game and France kicks the ass of Switzerland and more happiness is added to the day. How easy it is to make guys happy.


Day 18: my mission is to help things run smoothly and that includes staying calm while the bride's nerves are a mess. The bride and her two maids of honor go to the hairdresser together, the poor woman dealing with my hair is close to having a heart attack when she sees what she has to deal with, but she does a very good job nevertheless. The rest of the day is a bubble of happiness and joy and some tears like one of your best friend is getting married, everybody is smiling and shining and we have a great time. During dinner, a bad cold which I was ignoring all day is finally hitting me fully but I try to kill the germs by drinking and end up on the dance floor like everybody else. One of the best thing in the world is this: having all your good friends in one place at the same time, with champagne and music.


Day 20: back to Paris for the last evening. Brother #1 is back from Australia and Brother #2 is hosting dinner, and this is the best last night I could hope for.


And now, I am ready to go home. I miss the fish, my friends, my little shack on the beach and the water. And I can't fit in my jeans anymore !!! I remember the time when I never wanted to come back from holidays. Now, I do. And that is just great. Until next time, homeland!

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