Monday, May 30, 2011

Notre Petite Maison


My brand new beige peep-toe espadrilles from Enzo Poli. Could not decide on which color to get, so I got them in black, too. Perfect summer shoes, and the wedge heel makes them wearable throughout a long day. Only drawback is that they make me taller than Mr. Incredible.

Spent all Sunday doing nothing but lounging by the pool on the roof terrace of our hotel. Ouch, sunburn! My last night in a French hotel in a while, I guess, as we - as of today - are the insanely happy owners of a villa 10 kilometers north-west of Cannes. My usual "yay!" does not quite cover this. I hear that people say that the greatest moment of their life was when they had a baby. Well, I wouldn't know, would I. So I guess I would have to say that owning (well, technically, there IS a bank involved, too) a house in Southern France also feels pretty awesome. It is somewhere up there on the top of my list together with marrying Mr. Incredible seven years ago. In case you were wondering.

Met up with the French real-estate agent this morning, at the house. The owner then explained to us all the technicalities of the house. Like the heating, which I did not think we would need to know much about, but it turns out that this is also the source of hot water. And it might be that we would want to take a shower at one stage.

I was also introduced to our gardener / pool boy. I hate to disappoint you, but real life is nothing like you see in the movies. Ours will hereby go by the name of "Quasimodo", although that is not his real name. But I guess you get the picture. And he does not wear tiny bathing shorts. He wears tired old soccer shirts. Today he was Figo. The most frightening thing about him, though, is perhaps that he does not speak a word of English. Or Norwegian. So, I have a very good reason to start taking my French lessons very seriously again.

Long flight home now. With Luftwaffe via Frankfurt. Our travel habits seem to be changing from now on. The normal thing for us is leaving home with two pieces of luggage. And returning home with five-ish. Now we arrived in France with five pieces, returning to Norway with two pieces. Being two EMPTY suitcases. Weird.

Still, it feels ok to have a second toothbrush permanently stored in a different country.

Yay.

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