Les Honeymooners

The perfect French honeymoon spot: the Irish pub.

Molly and Dodge, our next door neighbors and good friends from TCI, arrived today on a leg of the European honeymoon trip. I take full credit for steering them to this side of the pond for their post wedding shenanigans, convincing Molly during a couple of late night wine-fests last spring that it would be the best way to get their life together off on the right foot.

After stops in Rome, Siena and Santa Margarita in Italy, they met me during a driving rainstorm at the Nice train station. First stop (after a quick call on a local cafe to let the rain slow down a bit):  a place to get some roadies for the hour or so drive. Today's lesson in French culture is that the truck stops (or whatever they are called here) on French highways don't sell alcohol. However much that makes sense, it's still inconvenient during times such as this. Ever the creative improvisers, the newlyweds quickly produced a special bottle of Chianti they had bought for us from Italy (sorry Toni), got three plastic cups out of the gas station coffee machine and we were set for the ride home.

Savannah bestows the newlyweds with wedding gifts from Provence (not including my socks)

We had fun the next couple of days catching up on the island gossip and getting a first-hand recap of the wedding (held on the same day that category 1 Hurricane Tomas struck the island - hey, if your wedding can't survive a little 80 mph wind, the marriage is doomed anyway.). Savannah and Lindsey showed off their improving piano skills (Molly is something of a mentor and inspiration to them in this area). I tried to convince Dodge that Pastis actually tastes good. We drank at a cool little Irish pub that we discovered in Aix, and ate at one of our new favorite restaurants in town - Le Poivre D'Ane. And Chico happily reminisced with the parents of his friends - Buck and Basset (the boys), who he dominates despite being a fraction of their size.

And we all got a little homesick

It was a nice pit stop for all of us, and two days later we put them on a train to Paris (with Dodge having successfully stolen a pair of my prized sweat socks) for a fittingly romantic conclusion to their honeymoon.

(TCI visitor count: 10 and 11)