Troyes and Lavender

David spent the weekend at Benoit's enterrement de vie de jeune garcon (VDJG), the boys' equivalent to the VDJF. On Friday night he boarded a train for Britanny, and I had the weekend to myself.

I didn't have any plans or anyone to visit, and intended to order takeout sushi and feel sorry for my lonely self all weekend. But seeing Sex and the City on Friday with my girl colleagues sparked a dangerous need for fashion in each of us, so late that night we decided to go shopping the next day.

So Saturday we set out a few hours later than intended, with Dilek's boyfriend in tow. Caroline drove, I dozed in the passenger seat (I'm a lousy navigator…thank goodness for GPS), and we cruised southbound to Troyes, the home of a factory outlet. Troyes was a good 250 km south of Paris, but we figured why not, no one had anything better to do.

When we finally reached Troyes, it was 4:30 and we only had 3.5 hours before they closed. Caroline and I split off and managed to cover only one of four buildings. We went into a Hugo Boss store - my first time - and tried on a few dresses just for fun. Here's a picture I took in the dressing room.

Not Hugo Boss jeans.

Afterward, we met in the parking lot and fussed over each other's purchases like the girls that we are. Then the long drive home through the French countryside, including a stop at a car wash in the middle of nowhere.

Sunday morning I went into Paris to meet Alban and a friend for brunch. I arrived at metro Ecole Militaire a bit early and found myself in the throngs of an antiques market. I walked around for a bit, and finally took a prime spot at a corner café terrasse and ordered a noisette while I waited. "Noisette" is the French word for hazelnut, and the name of the coffee drink because of its warm brown color. In fact it's just a tiny coffee with milk, which is perfect for me because ordering a café au lait (coffee with milk) gets you a large mug.

In fact, I prefer a half coffee half milk mix, but it's not so chic (or easy) to order this, so I usually just take what I'm given and add sugar to soften the blow of the strong French coffee flavor. However, on Sunday I received the ideal; a full cup of coffee and a tiny pitcher of milk. Which meant my drink was in fact two or three, because each time I drank a few sips I'd refill it with milk.

So I sat alone at the terrasse, sipping my never ending coffee and watching a man on the corner selling lavender. He had plenty of customers, and was selling off the flowers as quickly as he could tie the bunches. After brunch with the ever charming Alban and his delightful girl friend (but not girlfriend) I walked back to the corner and bought myself a bouquet. The seller grabbed a large bundle, sqeezed it between his knees, and wrapped the stems in raffia string. Then he used a knife to trim the ends and delicately fussed over it before handing it over: he plucked out a loose leaf, tucked in a stray stem, and shooed away a bumble bee. It was quaint. I took the flowers in my arm and decided to browse the rest of the antiques market before I went home.

Having an armload of lavender turned out to be like carrying around a cute baby. Everywhere I walked, people oohed and aahed and bent their heads to smell it. I tilted up the crook of my arm to let them take in the scent, and gave mentally practiced directions in French when people asked where I bought it.

At home I had enough to fill two vases, but I think I'll pull some out to dry it. The apartment smells great. However, I might have a slight allergy, because I had a fit of itchy eyes and sneezes the first night. But there's no way I'm giving it up, I'd rather suffer though the discomfort.