As you know from yesterday’s post, I am not looking forward to dreading the upcoming marathon trip to France on Saturday. Besides the short-tempered spider monkey 2 year old and the prospect of mid-Atlantic tachycardia I was also worried about how we were going to get from the airport into Lyon to our snug little Maison des Chaumes in Villers-la-Faye.
When we lived in France we simply drove ourselevs to the airport, parked our monstre vert in long-term parking, and then picked up our car and drove ourselves home when we returned.
This time our only solution, we figured, was to rent a car at the airport and then drive ourselves up to Burgundy and then figure out how to drop the car back off again in Dijon. Problem was the last thing we’ll feel like doing when we FINALLY GET TO LYON (that heavenly moment seems sooooooooooo far away right now) is schlepping the bevy to the car rental agency, which will undoubtedly be closed for a coffee break. We didn’t, however, see any other choice.
Even in our own car that Lyon to Villers drive is always hellish. I am never able to sleep on the plane trip and it is always when I sit down in the car in Lyon that I hit the travel fatigue wall and my eyes just cannot stay open one second longer. Problem is I feel like I have to stay awake to make sure that Franck, who also has not slept very much, doesn’t fall asleep at the wheel. Often I jerk awake after drifting off for a few minutes and then shout over to Franck “ARE YOU STILL AWAAAAKE!?!?!?” before I even wipe the drool off my chin.
Anyway, my freinds Isabelle and Charlotte and I were skyping back and forth this week and they both asked me what time we were getting in and how we were getting up from Lyon. I told them very matter-of-factly that we were renting a car and left out my concerns about the car rental being closed for a coffee break, falling asleep at the wheel, or drooling.
Later that same day I got a Skype from my friend Isabelle. “You are NOT to rent a car!” she wrote in caps. “Hors de question!!! I have talked to Charlotte and we have arranged for Marco and Martial to come and get you and the bevy in two cars so their is enough space for the luggage. I don’t want to hear any protests because it’s decided. You have no say in the matter.”
People may take longer to get to know in France than many other countries but once you’ve made friends, they are friends for life. And they are the best, most loyal friends that any person could ask for. They don’t even mind it when I drool.
Maybe I won’t need that valium after all.