Leaving is not easy. The destination before you can be exciting, much anticipated, beloved, but first you have to leave. Home maybe. Or another spot which, chances are, was also lovely, enjoyable, stellar even. I used to move around a lot when away from home. See this place, go to that one, escape for a while to another. These days, I'm slower to leave, more deliberate and very very careful. Especially when traveling with Snowdrop. She's great on the road, but she is a child. Freshly nine. She can be tough on food, jumping from low appetite (just when we are at a place where she can eat) to high appetite (just when we are away from eating options). Too, she keeps herself busy, but lately, she depends a lot on her tablet. If there's reliable internet, she is in her own story bubble. If it's spotty, well, the trip then feels that much longer, for her and for me. Finally, there is the matter of luggage. We travel light -- we have to. I'm responsible for transporting us, packs, bags and all. Snowdrop is reliable with attending to her own stuff but at other times she needs help.
We are leaving Chamonix today after breakfast. My daughter (Snowdrop's mom) has already left. She's returning home, we're going to finish the week in Paris. By train, it's about 3.5 hours from Geneva. So, first a glance outside, at the wet, fogged in mountains...
... then breakfast.
One more check of the room, and another, just to be sure, and yes, a third time as well, and finally we're off. Past waterfalls, past towns without snow, feeling lucky because we had it, and we had sunnier days, and we had the views. Of Mont Blanc. Just not today.
I have to wonder -- will I be back in Chamonix? Last year I faced the same question, the same dilemma. There is so much that's right for a visit here with Snowdrop! And yet, there are other places, other destinations. The girl told us that maybe someday she'd live in Chamonix (for one thing, she could then join all those who raise huskies here). That is her best rating of a trip: if it warrants her return, not just next year, but much later, when she is older and living and traveling on her own.
Back to Geneva we go, this time to the train station. We have a bit over a half hour before our train leaves and we wander over to Sprungli -- that Swiss chocolate shop that promises you perfect confections. A few tidbits for the road...
... and now they've posted the track, and we find our train and get on -- a double decker car and yes, I picked the upper level, but that means I have both our cases to carry up. And the tote bag with all our winter and ski stuff. Moving around in the winter poses its own challenges! And still, I find train travel to be so much easier, saner, gentler (to say nothing of the environmental issues) than flying or even driving. Yes, I'll lug those cases to our seats. And then I will sit down, take in the others around me, imagine their stories, their journeys, look out the window and admire all of it -- how it is that we all came to be here, zipping at 200 miles per hour to our next place in life.
We arrive on time at Gare de Lyon, Paris.
We cab over to our hotel. Le Baume. I will never stay anywhere else, because Paris is no longer just a place to visit. It's a city that allows me to exhale and not worry about anything. And the hotel is my most perfect Parisian place for that. They do everything to support the idea that here, I need not fret about anything anymore. The room is lovely as always, the street is quiet. Thrilled to be here again! As is she:
(They always leave Snowdrop a book or two of crafts and she always loves them!)
We are lucky to have pretty good weather for our brief Parisian weekend. No rain, partly sunny skies. Back in Wisconsin, it was so cold that the heaters could not keep schools warm enough and they sent the kids home. Here, it's just a hair above freezing. They think it's positively Arctic! For us? A lovely winter day.
I coax Snowdrop out for a walk to the Luxembourg Gardens before they close up for the day. It's been a while since I've seen it with a crunchy smattering of snow.
Always beautiful, always giving me that broader horizon that is so often lost in crazy busy cities. Nearly empty today, and in that, too, lies its serenity.
Dinner at Les Editeurs, because it's around the corner and she and I will always find something to eat there that will be satisfactory to both. (We eat French green beans at the start, then she opts for scallops and French fires and I stick with the fish.) It's an interesting restaurant, because no one can say that their kitchen is spectacular or out of this world. But it's solidly good! And that's why, when we sat down at my preferred table (reserved, way in advance) and I looked around me, I heard nothing but French. A packed room, full of Parisians. Because they dont seek out the spectacular. (They dont need to, they live here and can find it anytime.) They want what you and I want when we go to our local eateries back home: solid, good food, good atmosphere, camaraderie.
(Snowdrop gets really into sketching out a graphic story)
(she does think their fries are under-salted!)
(crowds)
Tomorrow we will engage with Paris. Tonight? I close my eyes and think back... And exhale...
with love...
