Aix marks the spot… NOT to go!

Posted: October 31, 2016 in Travels

Married to my frenchman!

After what was a whirlwind week of family, logistics and friendly fun, I am now extremely content in wedded bliss. Da daa da daaa: I now pronounce me Liz Georjon. ๐Ÿ˜

Our wedding was amazing, if I do say so myself. We had been running around like crazy the week leading up to it, but our day was filled with excitement, ease and nothing but smiles. We succeeded to bring the French and English together, enjoyed the moment with happy kids and truly relished in our ‘special day’. โ˜บ๏ธ Or a few special days really! ๐Ÿ˜‰ The taco truck outside our Toulouse 5th Avenue flat the day after was absolute brilliance. ๐ŸŒฎ It was El Taco Fancyoso indeed.
The week after our wedding left us with still a few Americans in Toulouse and we finally were able to relax, take it eeeaaaaaasssyyy ๐ŸŽถ and shop a little, tour a little and eat at our favourite restaurants. Although sadly my illustrious husband had to return to work. ๐Ÿ˜ž

Given it was the birthday of my most favourite tรฉmoin and auntie… us gals decided to discover a very well-touted part of southern France that we’d not seen before. I’ve listened to countless stories about the beauty and charm of Aix-en-Provence. We should’ve gotten the hint from the moment our metro journey began that morning… how we failed to join each other until Matabiau Train Station was just silly. ๐Ÿš‡Though we managed to persevere and pop! ๐Ÿพ went the champagne.

Nous sommes arrivรฉes ร  Aix-en-Provence and spent the rainy evening in our very comfortable hotel lounge where the martinis ๐Ÿธwere dry and plentiful. ๐Ÿ˜ฌ there was a delicious dinner from a local couple’s charming Le 18 restaurant to follow. But that’s pretty much where all the charm ended. Oh sure there was also that one big fountain in the middle of town, in the roundabout. ๐Ÿ˜…

We awoke with hangovers ๐Ÿ˜ต and massages to remedy them, which really were quite lovely. In centre ville Yelp failed us terribly (three times over) to find anything decently non-French for lunch, lest we settled for canned tomato sauce gnocchi. Inundated by the constant swarm of flies, we sat in awe regarding the weird phenomenon of aix-tra short-legged dogs and the hipsters who walked them. There’s not a whole hell of a lot else to do in Aix unless you’re super aix-cited about Cezanne, or an art student. Un petit plus du vin ๐Ÿทwhile dodging flies was entertainment enough for us.

The next day we roamed aimlessly until our train ride home for husband-made tacos and me in a humex-fog. ๐Ÿค’ Trying to find a bottle of wine for the train was a total aix-ercise of frustration. ๐Ÿ™„ Trying to find the fucking train station was a total fucking nightmare. ๐Ÿ˜ฃ How is it, this ‘charming’ little Provence ville has big yellow signs pointing to literally everything aix-cept the gare des trains?!! And since when do the French call bus stations gares also (bastards)! ๐Ÿ˜ค It was absolutely crazy. Our only shot in hell was a taxi to Marseille, but the taxi-drivers were non-aix-istent. โ‚ฌ65 later ๐Ÿš• we waited in line to change our seats to the later train, and found a little peace in Gare Marseille Saint-Charles… without all the flies.

I felt a little bad for having suggested this charming fucking short-legged dog village, pour l’anniversaire de ma tante, especially when there ARE truly amazing parts of France we could have just as easily ๐Ÿ˜‰ gone to. But thankfully it was only a two-hour delay and just me and AJ, who aix-traordinarily masks her inner-irritation so well. ๐Ÿ™ƒ๐Ÿ˜˜

We finally did make it home to my incredible husband that night for leftovers and cocktails. ๐Ÿ˜ƒโค๏ธ๐Ÿ‡ซ๐Ÿ‡ท That’s when he finally decided to reveal that he never thought Aix was really all that interesting. ๐Ÿ™„๐Ÿ˜œ

I love Paul Cรฉzanne, really… but ๐Ÿ˜ต๐Ÿ˜ด

These martinis didn’t have any Martini Rossi

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