I’m not sure we thought this through. In order to make our 6:40 a.m. flight out of Nice we needed to leave Cannes by 4:30 which meant a 3:45 wake-up. Ouch in spades. Luckily we woke up on time, did the pre-flight hustle, and phew, the cab we had pre-ordered was waiting when we checked out. Good weather and no traffic were in our favor also. We pretty much zipped through security and had an hour to spare at the gate.

The sun came up over a thick blanket of foamy clouds on my side of the plane and was really beautiful. Mountain peaks, some bare and some covered in snow, rose above the clouds, and where there were breaks in the the clouds the Alps were visible below. Dan was in the front of the plane and I was in back sitting with a Canadian couple returning from their fourth full winter in Italy. (An idea I tucked away for later!)

The hour-long flight flew by, no pun intended, and before we knew it we were settled in a swanky business class lounge in Zurich for our four hour layover. There were showers, chaise lounges in a quiet area, a bar, a cooked to order egg/omelette station, treats (Swiss chocolate, nuts, candy) station, and a coffee bar. We had grabbed a bite in Nice, so we tried our darnedest not to succumb to the endless temptation so that we could enjoy the food on the flight home. Truth be told we took an embarrassing amount of small, wrapped Swiss chocolates to enjoy at home later. Seriously. Just to show off Dan actually ate a fresh pear. As are all things Swiss, the airport was clean, efficient, organized, and impressive. There were even little red lights and green lights at the escalators to help manage the flow of people.

Our final leg was eight and a half hours. I amused myself by saying yes to everything that was offered food and beverage wise, taking a short snooze, reading my book (Never Caught, the Washington’s Relentless Pursuit of their Runaway Slave, Ona Judge) and watching three movies (On the Basis of Sex, Green Book, and Vice).

Over the course of the trip, lady pilots flew us just over 9,700 miles and took us to the land of croissants and fois gras and returned us to the land of cornbread and country ham. We left a country that can’t pronounce our last name to spend a week in one that  recognizes it as a French name that carries with it the assumption of  language fluency.

We had a wonderful week in the land of milk and honey but, as always, it was great to be home and to sleep in our own bed.