Repatriation

Although we arrived in France back in April I feel like I am only just starting to get my bearings. Spending six months on a tour bus visiting Europe was wonderful but not helpful in making me feel at home in Paris. 

Grégoire, however, is taking to Paris like a fish to water. After a matter of weeks he fell back in love with his mother land. Feasting on duck confit, nutella crêpes and tiny cups of espresso, he is re-assimilating at an impressive rate. Yes, these days he looks, walks and smokes like a Parisian. I have to trot to keep up with him, I can store things in his new French man purse (he claims that the English translation of sac makes it sounds much girlier than it is) and I enjoy knowing that he has matches on hand. 

Here is a fun set of before and after shots. This top photo was taken in 2007. We stopped for fried chicken on our way home from a weekend in Manzanita Oregon. Note the bud light being consumed directly from the bottle, the country style table cloth and Greg's van T-Shirt. 

This second shot was taken last weekend a few blocks from our apartment. Note the ever so French mustache, the man in the béret behind Greg, and of course the cigarette au bec.

Oui, a frenchman in his native environment is both a beautiful and dangerous beast.