Le sigh… France.

Eight days, two plane and four train rides, two bus adventures, and a handful of metro trips. An unknown number of croissants, chocolates, glasses of wine, hours of sleep, random songs and dancing, and wonderful memories. I can state quite frankly, I already want to go back.

We wreaked what some may call havoc on the south of France and parts of Paris. Quick rundown for you from where last we left:

Traveled to adorable town north of Antibes called Biot. Ate pain au chocolate, got criticized by boulangerie cashier for not paying together. Met cute little French artisans and an Italian expat living in Biot.

Went out dancing in Antibes two consecutive nights with way two many requests for dances. We are such hot commodities on the French dance market that we’ve decided to bring back dance cards.

Visited Cannes for a ridiculous day of island hopping and a five hour happy hour involving a Russian song about a horse, an old Scottish man, and a fun restaurant owner who in the end simply wanted to look out for the cute American girls who had to make their way back to the train (cute American girls would be us, by the way).

Snuck into first class coach on the train from Antibes to Paris. Camouflaging yourself with the seats is a good idea and not difficult to do.

Wandered Paris for a day and a half, saw a lot, ate a lot, drank a fair amount and then the geniuses that we are couldn’t figure out the change in time and didn’t really sleep the night before our flight…which I will blame for the sickness that still plagues me.

Here’s a brief story in photos of our fun… (you should check out Gill’s version as well… they kind of go hand in hand)

Good times in Antibes. This was still early in the night.

Heated discussion with old Scottish man in Cannes.

I’m going to say wandering Paris in the cold rain did not help our efforts at staying healthy.

You could say it was a love-hate relationship…

Traveling together and staying in small quarters can pay its toll on any travel buddies.

I obviously had way too much fun. Plus, with the extremely basic French I learned before hand, I got by just fine for several reasons. (1) French people are amazingly nice, (2) most of them speak some English, (3) those that don’t could speak with Gill, the fluent Frenchie, and (4) quite a few people actually speak Italian!

That’s right… I went to France to embrace other cultures, which I did and quite well I might say. But I believe I spoke Italian pretty much everyday. And what’s better, a random Italian dude walking down the street stopped to say hello to me… in Italian and continued a very brief Italian conversation. I kid you not, he looked at me and I apparently exuded Italian. And he just knew, he knew the way you know about a good melon.

Well, that’s France in a nutshell. Now I continue on my journey to Italian citizenship…