Christmas in Provence: Part I

      On Saturday night my FWB finally called me back. I was thrilled to hear his voice over the phone. He was at his cousin's 30th birthday party and I'd left him two messages about my possible trip down south. All I needed was for him to tell me the timing worked fine.

      ¨You didn't think we were going to let you spend Christmas all alone in Paris, did you!?,¨ he exclaimed. I laughed. Then a few minutes later I hung up and bought my fairly pricey, but totally worth it, train ticket for Sunday.

       Sunday I ran around town doing laundry and packing and generally preparing for Christmas in Provence. I went to the Conrad Shop again and picked out a tire-bouchon levier with a cap cutter for all the bottles of wine I suspected Mr. FWB would be opening on Christmas.

        At 18h30 I made my way to the Gare de Lyon after spending the afternoon with a good American friend making cookies, trying to kill kill kill time and my impatience to see the FWB, when it was finally time to get on the train.

         When the train finally rolled into the station at a little after 11 at night, I grabbed my suitcase and descended onto the platform and looked around.

          There he was, on the quay, smiling large and wide, waiting for me.

*  *  *   

           We drove back to his village that night and I have to admit I wasn't quite sure how to act around him at first, because I didn't quite know what was going on. He made no mention, whatsoever, of the email I'd sent him. But that didn't stop him from getting cuddly that night. And from death gripping me like I'd been gone for a century and planting kiss after kiss after kiss on my forehead, cheeks, neck. He held my hand and stroked my palm with his thumb and I nearly bawled. I'd been so scared of never seeing him again that I was so relieved to be there, beside him, curled into his arms. 

*  *  * 

             On Christmas Eve morning we slept in...slept in so much that we woke up in time to shower and eat lunch with his parents! I adore his parents. It was just the four of us and of course, it was delicious. FWB's mama can cook. We had marinated mushrooms and salad to start and then a gratin of ham and endive in a béchamel sauce followed by cheese (the FWB obliges EVERYONE to have the cheese course, beware!) and fruit. 

               Then he and I took off on more Provincial escapes, including a stop in Vaison-la-Romain to buy cheese (oh, more cheese!) for Christmas day and then to his friends, who make artisanal olive oil and confit d'olive (delish). We were in the Drôme department of France, and the mountains were green, lush and snowcapped. 

                We zipped through winding mountain passes and then went on to a tiny village called Brantes (see right) and then ended the day near Montbrun in a beautiful city called Montbrun-les-Bains, which was lit up for Christmas (see left). 

Then we made our way back to the house for light dinner ( soup, delicious fish and veggies, and pineapple for dessert!) at 8 pm with his parents, ended up watching television in the living room with them until we were all sleepy, then tucked in at about 11 pm for the evening.  I was content and smiling like an idiot.