16 hours of sleep. That sounds like a ton, until you divide it over 5 nights and realize you are flirting with Edward Norton Fight Club like insomnia. It doesn’t take a mathematician to figure out that is less than 3 1/2 hours of sleep a night. Why? Lets just say between my natural inability to fall asleep mixed with work stress and a burning desire of France FOMO I just cannot get shut eye. I only write this because I know in a month when I’m sleeping 12 hours a day and only working 2 I can look back and feel justified.
Where to start? Well, if the immediate increased waist line has any correlation with happiness then I’d say we’re doing pretty darn good. Food and wine. This sums up the extent of the past 2 days. Quality and quantity. A freshly baked baguette slathered in copious amounts of butter has become an obsession. And I mean an ungodly amount of butter. It seems wrong. Even writing this is sounds disgusting. But oh Lordy it is not! It’s almost like cheese but it’s butter but it’s cheese. And yes, thats what I had for breakfast...and lunch, and snack, and dinner, and after dinner snack, and right before bed.
We ventured into the hilltop castle town of Gordes just down the road from our place and enjoyed a 3 hour lunch with breathtaking views topped off with mouth watering gelato. On our way out we passed by a crepe shack and all agreed we will be back tomorrow for more. The heat was like tiny bee stings on our skin as we trekked back down the cobble stone road to our car and have never been so in love with blasting AC. A simple dinner in and some pool time and “voila,” the makings of a perfect day.
So... our French pretty much sucks. And the French are not keen on lazy Americans trying to get by only speaking English, so Shi and I have been trying to step up our game. We’ve realized that if you can fake 10 seconds of a conversation, and then make a joke about how crappy your French is, they are much more willing to help you when you ask if they speak English. If you don’t follow these steps you get shunned. No soup for you.
So to kick off our Friday we bucket listed a massive check box for me and went to Chateauneuf Du Pape and wine tasted at Chateau La Nerthe. This is heaven to me. Drinking wine at one of the oldest wineries in France with some of the richest history and even stones in their wine-cave imported from Rome 800 years ago that date back 2000 years when Jesus was turning water into wine. This wine region is everything! I tried to contain myself, but ended up spending most of our money and made it out with a case of life changing wine. A prefix lunch at Le Chateau des Fines Roches, which is the castle you can see from Chateau La Nerthe where we just wine tasted at, and then the heat said “it’s pool time!”
We went for a family walk around our local village and picked a bucket full of blackberries that tasted like candy for a pie Shi and Bro are promising to make for us today. Then dinner at the only restaurant in town, that in my opinion could have a Michelin Star, filet of beuf, bottle of wine, forget about it. A couple days in and I am getting really used to this lifestyle. It’s Saturday, no work, so tonight I am sleeping, or die.
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