Christmas Markets and Fake Winter

This may be a case of you-always-want-what-you-cant-have, but it doesn’t feel quite like winter yet. I understand the weirdness of this statement coming from a native Californian and I am not sure if living in France has corrupted me, but I want snow and I want to be freezing when walking around Christmas markets. Yes, hot wine and raclette sandwiches are always delicious but having the weather in the one digit range magnifies that amazingness of it all.

I know that as soon as it actually gets cold I probably will complain. Last year I thought I was going to freeze to death. It started snowing before Thanksgiving and most of my friends had trouble getting home for Christmas because the huge snow storm forced airlines to cancel most of their flights. But bundling up in over four layers of clothes and still losing feeling in your fingers, toes, and nose seems to be part of the experience.

Nay and I did a serious amount of Christmas markets this weekend. They were of course enjoyable but I couldn’t help but reminiscence of last year’s experience. It was my first time living somewhere with snow and my first real winter. It was also my first Christmas market. It was the afternoon but Paris was already gray so the lights brilliantly illuminated from all of the stalls. The Champs Elysees was glowing and there was a strong smell of spices in the air from the various stands selling hot wine. People packed the sidewalks trying to maneuver and find the perfect gift… or perfect snack! I stared down the Champs in awe as a light snow began to fall. It was one of those moments I knew I would never forget. I will always remember how happy I was right then. It was one of those moments I fell in love with Paris again.

On the other hand, I really love that I have things to look forward too. Of course nothing tops the first experience of it all but I love that I can get excited for things happening again this year. I also value that Paris and I have moved in to a more mature relationship. And speaking of which the only French thing I believe I will have a relationship with. Not to generalize, but through investigative research I have decided that Cocos and Frenchies don’t mix. This puts a smile on my parents’ faces because then I won’t be sucked into the French black hole and never leave. However, there are plenty of non-Frenchmen here so there is still the possibility… (sorry parentals!) It’s not like Frenchmen are horrible creatures and I can’t explain exactly what it is, but I am pretty positive my heart is going to choose a man from another country. No offense.

Christmas markets and my views on Frenchmen. There you have it. A few minutes in my brain.