I never would have thought I'd spend a Christmas in France, but there I was, landing in the Montpellier airport just before 11pm on Christmas Eve, leaving the glamour and hustle of Paris behind for the much sleepier and bucolic French countryside in the south.
My aunt and uncle live in Prades-le-Lez, a small town outside of Montpellier. Their daughter--a cousin who is my age--was also home from school for Winter break. Being in a home, with family, was exactly what I needed after a month of incessant work and traveling. There were no sites to rush around and see, nor uncomfortable hostel beds in a room shared with seven strangers. I was perfectly content to just lounge on the couch with their little dog Gypsy and a copy of The New Yorker while catching up with relatives who I don't get to see nearly enough.
Even though it was great to still spend Christmas with family, this was my first Christmas without my family. We started the day at a neighbor's house for a champagne brunch, and then came back to open some gifts. I had asked my family to send me some toiletries and other items I couldn't find in Spain, and there was a package for me underneath the Christmas tree in the living room. As I was opening it I knew there was nothing to be really excited about in the box, but my mommy had wrapped up everything so it looked like a box full of presents! To anyone else, I'm sure it would have looked ridiculous that the gifts from my family were boxes of gum, deodorant, and floss. But to me, that they came wrapped up like little pieces of home was the real gift.
There was a delicious dinner with a barbecued capon as the main dish (which I learned is castrated rooster, in case you were wondering), followed by a traditional French Christmas dessert called bûche de Noël, or a Christmas log. I think they thought I was raving about it just to be polite, but it was actually one of the best desserts I've ever tried. So, all in all, it was a great day, but I don't know if it really felt like Christmas without my parents, brothers, and grandma; it was just December 25th for me.
The next couple days were spent hiking and exploring 1,000 year old ruins in the nearby villages (there's nothing like that in America), plus an excursion to an ancient Roman aqueduct. There was even a little medieval town where people still actually live. Being with my uncle is like having a personal tour guide. He seemed to know about everything from geographical formations to Roman history, and it really helps when sightseeing to know what sights you are actually seeing.
My aunt, uncles, and their children lived in France for six years while I was growing up, so I'm glad I finally made it out there to see them.
My aunt and uncle live in Prades-le-Lez, a small town outside of Montpellier. Their daughter--a cousin who is my age--was also home from school for Winter break. Being in a home, with family, was exactly what I needed after a month of incessant work and traveling. There were no sites to rush around and see, nor uncomfortable hostel beds in a room shared with seven strangers. I was perfectly content to just lounge on the couch with their little dog Gypsy and a copy of The New Yorker while catching up with relatives who I don't get to see nearly enough.
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| Heaven in a log |
There was a delicious dinner with a barbecued capon as the main dish (which I learned is castrated rooster, in case you were wondering), followed by a traditional French Christmas dessert called bûche de Noël, or a Christmas log. I think they thought I was raving about it just to be polite, but it was actually one of the best desserts I've ever tried. So, all in all, it was a great day, but I don't know if it really felt like Christmas without my parents, brothers, and grandma; it was just December 25th for me.
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My aunt, uncles, and their children lived in France for six years while I was growing up, so I'm glad I finally made it out there to see them.
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