I took a few photos in the town just to have a little record of my walk.
I have never gotten anything from this bakery even though it is the closest one to our apartment.
We have this kind of sign in Minneapolis too.
Post office near center of town.
Multi-story sporting goods store. There are a lot of sporting goods stores in town, but this one seemed to be about the actual business of selling athletic gear (and luggage and sunglasses and that sort of thing) to people who intended to use it.
I browsed the clearance racks and found a tee for my daughter and a dressy-looking shirt in a performance fabric for me.
Off to the bookstore to stock up on French reading material. I bought a stack of cooking magazines and something that looked kind of like Scientific American. Will dole these out to myself over the upcoming year.
I wish there was enough time to read the backs of the novels and choose one I am really going to enjoy, but it takes me about 20 times as long to make that sort of assessment in French as in English. So I settled for a mystery novel by an author I already know I like, and a thriller by an author I don’t.
With a little time left before meeting our friends, I stopped for one last French-style protein-free petit dejeuner. Apricot juice, espresso, bread, butter, and jam (strawberry and raspberry; I think they were homemade, as they were exceedingly low in pectin). Delicious. I could only eat half of my half-baguette.
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Back to the apartment, and pack pack pack. We spread random small items on the table and stuffed the suitcases.
They are significantly reorganized from their initial state. Three whole suitcases were devoted to items we will not need for the rest of the trip: rope, helments, harnesses, puffy coats, long underwear, hiking boots, beach gear.
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We split up for dinner. The two youngest boys ate square white pain de mie spread with butter and (for the 7yo) jam and (for the 3yo) processed orange-colored cheese slices.
The 11- and 13yos were sent into town with money, and they chose to go to the French McDonald’s for one last time. The younger one’s Happy Meal came with a fresh wedge of pineapple labeled “P’tit Ananas.”
Mark and I and our oldest went out for a nice restaurant dinner at Le Cap’Horn. We split sushi to start (salmon maki and a fancy maki stuffed with tomato and spicy tuna and shrimp and then tempura fried; not very Japanese, but I wanted the French interpretation of the fancy maki, and it was good).
Mark ordered “gambas à la plancha,” shrimp that came with flavorful rice and also their heads and legs. I ordered a starter as my plat: three petite “taquillos” stuffed with avocado and sushi-grade red tuna. Very nice! I didn’t share. The 17yo ordered wok-seared prawns in sesame-soy sauce with noodles and pickled vegetables. It was great.
Dessert: a sweet strong wine for Mark, a cheese course of fresh chèvre with myrtilles for me, and a cheesecake mousse in a glass with red berries and speculoos crumble for the teenager.
I didn’t talk much, but listened as my husband and son talked college planning. He thinks he’s picked his major, and must write the applications when we get home, and there’s much to discuss.
The future looks bright.
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