I live in the most beautiful city in the world. There is no doubt about it. France may be a place full of bureaucratic nightmares, stiff and starchy people, and smelly metro systems, but they do one thing correctly. Christmas, or Noël. Every street is adorned with some form of Christmas ornamentation. Whether it be lights down the middle of the street, or a lit tree in a square, they do their best to make it look as nice as it feels. However, as I write this, something is missing. The lights, gifts, hot chocolate, even the snow, is all here. Trees, strange men in santa costumes, the obligatory car-driving-through-half-frozen-puddle-ruining-your-shoes kind of days, it happens here. But 5000 miles away is where Christmas really is. The 16 foot trees we could barely get in the truck, let alone the living room, the made up Scrabble words. The Disarono and anythings. For the first time in my life, I will not be there for that. It is a little bittersweet.
But, I know they will have a good time without me, and I will too. For I will be in Norway, the second prettiest place in the world, besides the view I have right now from my room.
More to come this weekend about my adventures. Happy Hanukkah!
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