Monsieur Perignon strikes again

Ooops. Found these at the back of the closet this morning. My burgundy boots, from Marina Rinaldi. This color is now getting back in fashion. And as the boots also happen to be more than five years old, I guess they are on the verge of being VINTAGE. Which I guess is waaaay cool.

Got back from France again yesterday. We left Oslo and the whole "World Championshit" hysteria behind late Thursday night. Time for the official signing of the purchase contract for the house, or the "Compromis de Vente". French people do not play around with contracts. Ohno. So half of Friday was spent at a notary's office in a small village by the sea, being read the first version of the contract. In French. Including all the detailed clauses related to sewer, termites, lead and asbestos. I guess what we ourselves are more worried about, is the fact that our pool looks like shit on Google Earth. Anyway. To my big surprise, I actually understood quite a bit of what was read to me. Even though my French is level with that of a local two-year-old. Hm. Hopefully the kid would not be quite as eloquent in the field of "boissons alcoolisée" as yours truly.

This is what it looks like when the snow stays where it is supposed to be. 

Up in the mountains. A truly fantastic sight.

We got to visit the house again after the contract was signed, and we were happy to see that it exceeded our memories from the first visit. It is always very strange going back to see a place again a second time. Most often everything looks smaller, but this was not the case. And the bathrooms looked better than we remembered. "Monsieur Incroyable" even got to try out the facilities, so to say. A bit short-sighted when you are visiting a house that has not been lived in for eight months. So, now he knows how to turn the water supply back on.

Another fabulous dinner at our regular in Cannes, Astoux. Giant "crevettes" and the best sole you can think of. Paired with a nice Mersault. After which our old friend Monsieur Perignon decided to pay a surprise visit to join in the celebration of the big property transaction. Must have been fun.

Some mornings you simply do the world a favor by wearing sunglasses. On such days it is a good idea to leave your rental car safely parked, and instead take the opportunity to explore the local public transportation. Like, for instance, the train from Cannes to Nice. Very convenient. And when you bring a bottle of diet coke and get to hold the hand of the one you love, it is almost bearable. I even picked up another important French phrase. When it says on the train ticket that you should "composter" your ticket "avant" something, it does not mean that the French are so extremely eco-friendly they kindly ask you to COMPOST your ticket AFTER it has been used. Nope. Now you are warned.

 

These next few weeks, waiting for the house to finally be ours, are going to be VERY long. The contrast between heaven (left) and hell (right) is just too obvious these days.