Before I begin writing about my time with my treasured international guests, I want to give a shoutout to my newest (and second) follower, my mama. Hi mom! Thanks for following my blog, and for loving me even if it’s trash.
My two-week Christmas vacation kicked off on December 22nd, when I took a train to Paris, two days ahead of Megan and Alex. There was a very sick child on the train, which is all I have to say about that. I arrived at my hostel Friday evening and spent most of the night rolling around in my bunk listening to a very bad and loud band play covers of the important hits: the Macarena was played twice. I arrived in Paris ahead of Megan and Alex so that I could take advantage of my Pass éducation, which grants me free access to all national monuments and museums. Thus, in the interest of getting my money’s worth, on Saturday I visited the Louvre, Le Musée de l’Orangerie, the Musée d’Orsay, and the Palais Royal, to which I never found the entrance. Walking around Paris by myself was fun and I enjoyed the freedom of visiting the galleries at my own pace, glossing over the things I find boring and spending more time with the things that really captivate me. And maybe, listening to Drake.
My second night in the hostel, I snagged a pair of earplugs, my first, and slept like a baby. The next morning, Megan and Alex arrived after a long series of planes, trains, and automobiles. Our first order of business was to walk to our Airbnb and then to explore until it was time for our Christmas Eve program to really begin. That evening we took a very touristy and extremely fun boat tour along the Seine. It was a new way to see all of the bridges that cross the river and the major sights that flank it. The tour guide was very good at her job, succinctly describing everything in perfectly timed French and English. As we passed the Eiffel Tower, it lit up and began to sparkle in the darkness. “She has the button for that shit,” Alex said, and I think he was right. This was also a good place to drink tallboys, which, I am now wondering, would be called boaties, instead of roadies? After our tour, we walked about 35 minutes to a restaurant where we had made a reservation for a traditional Christmas dinner. This is not a food blog and I couldn’t do justice to how delicious our dinner was, but suffice it to say, we had a long and lovely meal, and rang in Christmas five pounds heavier. We FaceTimed with mom and dad (first feature, mom) and realized that we looked like weird triplets, so we dedicated some time to capturing that look before bed.
Christmas Day was spent wandering around the city, seeing some sights and attending to Megan and Alex’s jetlag, and my own sympathetic sleepiness. On the 26th we visited Vaux le Vicomte, which is a lovely privately owned chateau with a very interesting history. An unhappy one. The weather was bad but the gardens and fountains were excellent, and were improved by the presence of Megan and Alex who are able to identify and discuss plants and grading in a way that I find equal parts captivating and baffling. The interior of the chateau was decorated for Christmas, but ultimately the effect was creepy and noxious. Each room was a staggering display of Christmas kitsch, complete with enormously fragrant trees, colorfully sprayed with some chemical that certainly reduced the number of Christmases we will experience.
The following day we continued our castle garden inspiration tour and went to Versailles. The weather was worse, as there was some rain and I had previously trashed my malfunctioning umbrella in a fit of rage, but the chateau was incredible. Apparently I didn’t take very many good pictures of the gardens, but this is not surprise, as we mostly dedicated our time there to drinking a bottle of wine, and eating a galette des rois, though a little prematurely. Alex found la fève and was therefore king for a day, complete with castle. In this way, I learned the phrase “dilly dilly.” Miss you, America.
The next few days saw us to Colmar, the town where I live, and from which we traveled to Freiburg, Strasbourg, and to a nearby ski resort, where none of us skied. We embarked with every intention of doing so, but upon our arrival and my subsequent utter meltdown about the “tire-fesse,” we decided to try our hand at showshoeing. It was a success. We also had a running game of gin for the entirety of the trip, but after Megan and Alex left, I discovered that the deck had been tampered with, and therefore the entire tournament is void. This matter can only be resolved via a second visit.
OUIOUTHERE 
Thank you Steph, I am thrilled to be able to read the details of your visit with Megan and Alex. Happy New Year!!
Love you!
Mom
Love you mama