Mont Blanc amazes me.  We arrived Chamonix last Tuesday afternoon on the bus.   Fortunately, the sky was blue and the alps were clear.  Surrounded by needle peaks and massive snowfields,  Brewster declared right away that he liked Chamonix.  Matt and I smiled.  Great minds think alike.

The name of our Airbnb was The Love Cocoon.  Located on the pedestrian main street in Chamonix five minutes from the bus station, it was perfect.  The UTMB, a long distance running race was happening so the streets were filled with extremely fit men and women with sleek camelbacks and windbreakers strapped to their backs. Also walking around town, were climbers, mountaineers, and long-distance hikers with hiking poles attached to a backpack. Chamonix is a sporty town!

The four of us dropped our bags and grabbed our cameras and started exploring.  Flags, flowers, bars, restaurants and gear boutiques line the main street.  So much action!

 We were starving,  so we found an Italian restaurant with a table for four and happily shared pizza and pasta.  Sadie and Brewster ditched Matt and me after dinner in search of gelato.  We savored the end of our meal and walked slowly back to our tiny apartment.

We knew we wanted to hike in the Alps the next day.   The Aiguille du Midi Lift was closed from the Plan de l’Aguille  to the top so we opted for Le Brévent gondola across the valley from Mont Blanc.  Right out of the Chamonix, our view of the massive Mont Blanc was fantastic.  We loved watching the hand gliders launch from the cliffs and soar down valley.  From the gondola, we  transferred to a tram and went straight to the top of Le Brévent.

The view was absurd!  I felt so small in the presence of such greatness.  We took our photos and soaked it in.  Mont Blanc made our beloved Alta seem quaint.  At the summit, there were other families, climbers and hikers.  Everyone was in awe.

We hiked from the top of Le Brévent to the Planpraz about 1200 feet down.  We boarded the gondola just as it started to rain.  We rode down with a French couple form Normandy who had been hiking for five days.  Matt and I agreed that our group was not quite ready for the hut-to-hut trek but it was something to work towards.  It’s been 14 years since I was pregnant with Brewster.  I wouldn’t have wanted to know in 2004 that we’d be pushing pause on our adventure travel for 14 years,  but now that Sadie is nine and is old enough to travel, hike and enjoy some of the places we love most, we are entering a new chapter.  And our adventures will become greater over time.

The rain was coming down hard when we landed back in Chamonix.  We ducked into a local favorite, the Poco Loco for a couple crêpes-to-go for the kids.  We darted back to the Love Cocoon and changed our clothes and Matt and I went next door for some Nepali food – cuisine near and dear to my heart.  We ordered lamb vindaloo, dal bhat and beer enjoyed our authentic meal under the awning,  staying dry despite the rain.  About half way through our lunch, the staff started scurrying around.   Clearly something was about to happen.  Matt asked our waiter what was going on and they said an Indian tour was coming through and 125 people would join us for lunch.  The restaurant was quite small, so in no time we were surrounded by Indians talking, laughing and eating their food with their hands. A couple basically sat down at our table with us.  Something Americans typically wouldn’t do….It reminded me of the Indian’s small sense of personal space.  I felt like I was back in Nepal and I loved it.

The afternoon dragged on in a rainy day way.  At dinner time, I convinced everyone to go out for fondue.  We found a place which was like the Buca di Bepo of the Alps.  The kids rolled their eyes and declared they did not like Swiss cheese.  So they both had steak and frites which really was a burger without the bun and fries. Matt and I stuffed ourselves with delicious cheese and wine and decided that it really would have been more apropos if we had hiked uphill rather than down. Oh well.  I thought of my dear friend Christy Foran who brought her fondue tradition to San Francisco after college and all of the good times the girls shared over a bubbling pot of cheese.   Christy, your fondue is as good as it is in the Alps!

Feeling like I need some exercise after that meal, I googled Chamonix yoga before going to bed.    I found a studio that offered  a self-practice everyday from 6:30-8:30am which sounded like  exactly what I needed. Not wanting to set an alarm on vacation, I left it up to chance to wake up.  In the morning,  I looked at the clock: 6:40am.  I was happy.  I found the studio as one  yogi was staring his ashtanga series.  I joined him for an hour of yoga.   It was serene and felt great.

The Cocoon was quiet when I returned from yoga.  Matty was just waking up so we laced up our shoes and went for a morning walk.  Runners from the UTMB race were finishing and we stopped to clap for each one.  We kept thinking about our friend, Dom Layfield who is a long distance runner and wondered if he was there….we’ve since seen on Instagram that he was!  There were a few different races.  But the runners that we saw finishing started in Courmayeur and ran 120 km around Mont Blanc. What an intense race!

Clearly, the Hutchinsons are not nearly as hardcore but we loved the energy!   After waking the kids, we packed up and planned our last few hours on a train up Mont Blanc to check out the Mer de Grace Glacier.   The ride was 20 minutes straight up the mountain and we were dropped off across from raging waterfalls and the largest glacier in France.  We first checked out a crystal exhibit filled with quartz and amethyst and then walked down to towards the glacier.  About half way down to the ice cave Matt looked at his watch and discovered that our bus to Annecy left in an hour.  We all agreed to bail on the cave, take a gondola back to the train and head back to Chamonix to go to catch our bus.  It was perfect timing as we boarded our bus to Annecy with only a few minutes to spare.

An hour and half later, we arrived in Annecy, a city nicknamed the “Pearl of the French Alps”.  We conveniently stayed a few minutes from the bus station and again, we dropped our bags and went out to explore. I had never been to Annecy and wasn’t expecting such an idyllic, picturesque town.  Three canals flowed through the old medieval town and there were bridges everywhere. The canals all lead to the large lake at the tip of town.  The city looks like  Disneyland, but it is real!  

We had dinner on the canal.  Brewster ordered beef tartare not really knowing it was raw. I give him credit for trying it, but I don’t sense he’ll be ordering it again.  There was no shortage of ice cream shops to chose from for dessert so everyone went to bed with a full tummy.

The next day, we rented bikes and rode down along Lake Annecy.  Our family is not quite ready for a Backroads Bike holiday, but we had a blast!  The bike path was flat and wide and I loved riding past the lake chalets, luscious gardens and rural castles.  About 10km down the road we stopped in a tiny village, Duingt for a little picnic.  On the way back,  I was so proud of Sadie for her biking efforts.  Undoubtedly, she was exhausted and sore.  We were riding side by side, very, very slowly.  I shared some thoughts on mental grit.  I told her that her body in fact could ride but it was her mind holding her back.  Shortly after our chat, she put the pedal to the metal and cycled fast all the way back to town. I couldn’t even keep up! My heart was happy!  And the quiet was as delicious as the pace.

We relaxed at our apartment in the afternoon.  Matt and I drank a tasty 5euro bottle of white wine.  We found a delicious Cambodian restaurant for dinner and clearly Matt and I enjoyed the cuisine more than the kids. Over dinner we talked about our next family trip.   Matt is coming back to France late October and  the kids have a two week school break.  We thought traveling to  the French Riviera, Corsica and Florence sounded like an adventure.  But no rush to that trip when we are still on this one!

Matt and I work up early this morning and went for a morning stroll and coffee on the canal. I needed a little more sweat, so I ran along the river before waking and packing the kids up.

I write from the TGV heading to Aix-en-Provence via Lyon.  I think our train is going over 100 mph.  The French have this train travel down.  It’s the way to go!

We’ll be back to our Aix-en-Provence apartment in a few hours.  I am excited to share our French pied-à-terre with Matty!

After settling in a few days to our new life in Aix-en-Provence, we headed north to Paris to meet Matt on Saturday morning.  This was one of two trips that he was making to visit us in France.  Months ago, I planned this trip and by the time the day arrived, I was grateful that Matt was on his way.  We had so much to share with him already!

Matt flew direct to Charles DeGualle and arrived at 11:15am.  Sadie, Brewster & I left our apartment early Saturday morning and walked to a bus station where we took a shuttle to the Aix TGV station.  Thanks to our local bus passes, the kids rode free and my ticket was only a few euro.  We arrived at the grand Aix-en-Provence TGV station to find a crowd of travelers.  Some waited for a train to Zurich, some to Madrid.  We were taking a train to Marne-la-valée-Chessy-Disnesyland .  Months  ago, I researched the TGV to Paris and found a discount train, Ouigo, that sold a cheaper tickets than SNCF which is the higher end TGV train.   Our tickets were quite a deal!  Sadie was only 5euro with the purchase of my adult ticket.  However, maybe you get what you pay for and going through Disneyland turned out to be a hassle.  We were delayed an hour and spent most of the ride listening to babies crying.  Families packed the train.  Our ticket checkers looked like they worked at Disney wearing goofy hats.  Paris-chic it was not….

While we were stopped on the TGV, Matt texted that he had arrived in Paris.  He headed to our Left Bank Airbnb.  The Marne-la-valée-Chessy-Disnesyland station was packed.  Fighting our way through the crowds, we lined up to buy metro tickets to Paris.  Quick does not describe me at the ticket machine.  After struggling with the French directions, I figured out how to buy our tickets as the line behind me grew.  Nothing that screams “tourist” louder than a fumbling patron like me at a ticket machine.   

The three of us unnecessarily ran for the RER train to Paris only to wait ten more minutes  before departure.

En route, we realized that a few central Paris stations, including ours were under construction.  We had to amend our travel plan. We mapped out an alternative Metro plan which was not nearly as direct.  Somewhat exhausted, Brewster looked at me and said one word:  “Uber?”  Yes, this was indeed a time to Uber.  We walked outside, ordered an uber and we were off headed through the streets of Paris.

Matt waited for us outside our apartment we reunited with big hugs on our 6éme street, Rue de Prince.  Before we arrived, he ate an omelet at Rue de Racine across the street and had already fallen in love with our neighborhood.  After dropping off our bags, we headed down towards Saint-Germain and stopped at a sidewalk cafe so the rest of us could eat. 

As we sat at the bustling cafe, it hit me that we were in Paris!  Surround by beautiful old buildings dripping with flower-filled window boxes and French boutiques, I took a moment to soak it in.  The kids happily ate a burger and chatted with Matt about their week in Aix.  We were all trés content!

We walked a couple blocks to the Seine and marveled at the Parisian architecture.  Every direction was a photo.  Brewster captured his with his Fuji camera, Sadie with her iPhone. We crossed a bridge to i’ile del la Cité and walked past, Sainte-Chapelle and stopped at the Notre-Dame Cathedral.  We photographed the outside and decided to go in.  Surprisingly, the line to go inside moved very quickly.  We took our time in the church, marveling at the stained glass windows and time-line of the building.  We learned that it took over 1000 years to complete the Cathedral.  Hard to imagine that anything like that would be built like it today.

Saturated with Notre-Dame history and beauty we headed back to the Left Bank via a gourmet ice cream store, Grom.  We took our cones to the magnificent  Luxembourg Gardens.  The Parisians take very good care of their flowers in this park.  It is gorgeous!  So many people were there like us, enjoying an August afternoon.

Matt was fading after his redeye and so we walked to our apartment through the Odeon Plaza. He tucked himself into bed and Brewster & I went out to window shop in our neighborhood. About 8pm, when the stores closed, we walked home and spent the rest of the evening relaxing.

Not surprisingly, Matt woke up before dawn. Four espressos later, at 7:15am, he was ready to explore.  I hopped out of bed and joined him for an tranquil Sunday morning Parisian stroll.  The city was asleep and it felt as if we had it all to ourselves.  We walked across the Seine to the Tuileries Gardens adjacent to the Louvre.  A few joggers passed us, but other than that we were alone in the meticulously manicured gardens.  We meandered back to our apartment via a boulangerie to pick up some croissants.  After waking the kids up, we packed up our cameras, maps and water bottles and left for the day. 

We started with a metro ride up to Sacré-Cœur in the Montmartre District.   The Catholic Church sits high above Paris so it was a nice vista to begin.  Taking our time, we wandered around the stairs of the church and found a sidewalk cafe to lunch. 

Pigalle was our  next metro stop located down the street from the Moulin Rouge.  The Montmartre neighborhood is Paris’s red light district and the Sex shops did not go unnoticed by our kids.  Sadie giggled at the shops while Brewster looked straight ahead.  Matt and I thought it was funny, and were glad our Airbnb was not in that seedy hood.

We metro-ed to the Musée D’Orsay and waited in a short line to buy our tickets.  Straight up to the 5th floor we went to see some of the world’s finest Impressionist paintings and sculptures.  I loved them all!  Monet, Rodin, Degas, Renoir, Pissarro, VanGough, Picasso and so many more. I was pleased with kids art history knowledge thanks to  EVA: their elementary visual arts program (shout out to PCEF for funding art in the Park City Elementary schools and Stefanie Kimche & Molly Pennell for teaching) .  Sadie’s favorite was Vincent VanGough and seeing his paintings live excited her.  I loved the open feel of the Mussée D’Orsay, an old train station as much as the art.  It is Paris’s finest.

We needed to go home for a siesta as we had 9:30pm tickets to ride up to the top of the Eiffel Tower.  Matt napped while the three of us chilled out.  And about 7pm we headed out to the 7éme by metro.  When we arrived at St-Michel, our stop, it was closed due to the same construction we encountered on Friday.  We started walking along the Seine and remembered reading that bus 69 went to the Eiffel tower.  How lucky that one was coming our way!  We hopped on the local bus and got off at Parc du Champ de Mars.  We enjoyed dinner under the Eiffel tower.  The view was better than the food but we didn’t really care.  Walking over towards the Eiffel tower, the lights started blinking.  Every five minutes at the top of the hour, the lights flash.  We were excited.

We all took several photos and headed to the tower.

Our trip up the to the top took nearly two hours.  There were long long lines even with our reserved tickets that I secured months in advance.  However, being up close inside the massive metal structure kept our attention and spirits high.  By about 10:45pm, it was our turn to go up the elevator to the top.  Matt joked that the elevator could stop “anytime now”.  It took us higher and higher and higher.  Finally, we were at the top!  Wind whipped through the observation deck and we joined in with the crowd of visitors taking photos.  We passed on the 20 euro glass of champagne, but appreciated the romance of being at the top of the Eiffel Tower at night.  It was a moment to remember!

We opted to take the stairs down over waiting for the lift.  Outside the Eiffel Tower, desperate for a taxi, I waved one down.  I started talking and clearly he did not understand me.  “Brewster, I need you!” I called out.

Brewster began talking and next thing I know, we were piling in headed to our apartment.  The taxi driver talked the whole ride and both Brewster and Sadie chimed in.  I later asked what he was talking about and he told us that Paris is the best without the Parisians.  He said they were all are all out of town on their August holiday so there is no traffic.  He thought this was the best week to visit.  He also told the kids that there are over 200 museums in Paris!  OhLaLa!

Our last day in Paris was way more chill.  Everyone woke up late with sore feet and stiff legs. Regardless,  I planned the day starting at the  Musée de L’Organgerie.  I wanted to see Monet’s Water Lilies. WOWzah.  They are the most beautiful serene paintings I have ever seen. Monet painted these pieces during the War so people could sit with them and feel calm while they lived in the hectic violent world.  They took sixteen years to paint.  I loved, loved, loved each and every painting.

We walked out of the Museum and strolled through the middle of the Champs D’Élyses to the Arc de Triumph stopping at a few stores.  Brewster bought some sweat pants in anticipation to our trip to Chamonix.  He left Aix-en-Provence with only shorts.  I asked him to indulge me and they were amazingly different and cool because they were not only French but from the most expensive Adias store in the Northern Hemphisphere.

After our walk, we took the metro back to our apartment to relax and have a snack.  Later, Matt and I took two cans of beer and strolled back to Luxembourg Gardens to put our feet up on the garden’s green metal chairs .  We sat and watched the children play with the sailboats in the pond.  Sadie called and wanted to come to the park.  Matt gave her directions and ten minutes later she appeared feeling very proud of herself for navigating a few Paris blocks on her own.

Just as we were leaving, I took one more sip of my can of beer and OUCH, a bee stung my lip.  It swelled up and hurt me significantly.  My family found my pouty lip funny.  I laughed with them.  Since no one felt like venturing far for dinner, we walked next door to the local sushi restaurant.  It was delicious as was the ice cream that we enjoyed at our nearby ice cream parlor: Il Gelato Del Marchese.  They made a few flavors we had never seen before: Parmesan, Avocado and Iranian Pistachio to name a few.  I stuck with Carmel.

We all slept well and the next morning, we were packed our roller bags and took a direct bus to Gare De Lyon.  We arrived with plenty of time to catch our TGV to Chamonix, the second stop on this forever summer holiday.

Sadie and Brewster attending school in France was a high priority for adventure in France.  I wished for them to have an authentic experience using their French language skills that they acquired in their Dual Immersion Program.  I wanted to go before Brewster started high school. He is in 8th grade and Sadie is in 5th.  Unenrolling them from the Park City public schools was quick and easy. Their schools were very supportive.  The only paperwork required was a notarized letter stating our dates that we’d be gone and my intention to continue their education

It was difficult to find a school in France though.

Always in the back of my mind, I thought if I couldn’t find a school, I’d home-school them.  However, as my friend Whitney reminded me, the goal of my adventure was the French school experience.  I am talented at many things, but teaching 5th and 8th grade are not on that list.  And selfishly, I did not want to spend all-day-every-day with my wonderful energetic children. I wanted them making French friends, learning at a French school.

In Park City, Sadie’s 4th grade French teacher is from Chamonix and she assured me that I just had to go to the Mairie de la Ville (town hall) when I arrived and with the “right” visa, they would assign me to a neighborhood school.  Sounded easy enough.  I researched the schools near our apartment in Aix-en-Provence and found a primary school 3 doors down called Ecole primaire Jules Ferry.  Brewster would be in college and our neighborhood school is where Cezanne studied, College Mignet.  I was excited.

I practice patience, but I couldn’t wait.  In December, I emailed the college received this response:

Mrs Hutchinson,

As for now it’s impossible for me to say if we’ll have space or not in 4ème (more or less the equivalent of 8^th grade) next September.  It’s much too early.

But I must tell you that in case of space available, I will give priority to students who are meant to stay one full year or more, which is not the case for your kid.

Not exactly what I was looking for….I continued my search and emailed a few private schools for back up over the next few months and either received messages that they were full or worse, no response.    I started to worry.  I was not panicked but concerned.

In the middle of June, I was home in Chicago for a few days and I had dinner with my parents who are extremely supportive of my adventure.  They were excited about my apartment and plans to go to Paris and the Alps with Matt in late August.  And when we inevitably reached the subject of school, I quietly said that I hadn’t quite nailed down that detail.

“What?”  My dad looked up from his burger.  “The kids aren’t enrolled in school?”

“It will work out. It has to” I explained wishing that I had more of a concrete plan.  I explained that the French teacher told me that I had to get their first and then find a school.  But honestly, even when I said that plan out loud, it didn’t sound good to me.  We were arriving in Aix-en-Provence on a Wednesday and had plans to go to Paris to meet Matt on Saturday for a week of travel.  I was not leaving myself very much time to find a school.  But I felt like I had exhausted all my options.

Back to Utah, I googled all the schools in Aix-en-Provence and started cross checking with emails that I had sent and distance from our apartment.  There was one school that was near by and I hadn’t emailed them: Ecole Privée Val Saint André. 

I went into my sent email folder, copied & pasted my standard email and pushed send.  The next day, I received a response that there was room for them!  I couldn’t believe it.  I googled everything that I could find on the school and quickly learned it was a small international school with favorable reviews.  The following day, they sent me an application along with the tuition information since it was a private school. I held my breath when I opened that document. There was a cap on what we could spend for a semester for school, but it was reasonable. I was quite certain that we could swing it, and in two days, the kids were registered and tuition wired.

Our one missing piece was solved!  Someone at a school would be expecting us when we arrived….I was excited!

The school sent us about 20 pages of information all in French. I had no idea what time the school started, if the kids had a uniform or any of the fine details. I had a moment of compassion for all the families in my town who do not speak English for their first language.  It’s a disadvantage!  Before we left for France, I spent an afternoon with Chrissy Nichols – Sadie’s French teacher next semester – and we went through all the information.  She was immensely helpful.

We went to Target to buy some blue collared shirts which were their uniform.  It was news to Brewster that he had to wear a uniform. He was not happy.  It was sinking in, and he shut down and walked out of Target.   Sadie couldn’t hold back her excitement to wear a uniform.  I was dealing with two different kids with two different personalities.  The ride up to Park City from Target was quiet and difficult,  I said to Brewster that I wished I had found a school without an uniform.  But we had to go with the one school who responded to us.  It’s not like we had a lot of options.

So flash forward.  A few days ago, we went to the school to meet the headmaster.  The kids were nervous.  Of course!  They will be going to school in French.  Hard not to be.

We were greeted incredibly warmly.  The headmistress is very gracious.  She spoke to the kids in French and it was a proud moment for me to witness their language skills.  The three of them had a conversation for over a half an hour. They asked questions and she shared many details about the school day.  They have orientation next Monday, 3 September and start school on Tuesday.  Sadie will go to school from 8:30-4:30 and Brewster will either start at 8am or 9am and finish at 4pm, 5pm or 6pm depending on his schedule.  They have longer days because neither of them go to school on Wednesdays.

They were excited about this fact!  And…..only the primary students where a uniform. Brewster does not have to!  He was so relieved and I was too….we were all so happy!  We had a quick tour of the school and noticed the simplicity of the classrooms.  They have sport off campus 3 hours a week and need to wear white collared shirts and blue track pants.  We went to H&M in Aix-en-Provnce that afternoon and dropped them off at the school to have the VSA patch sewn on.

For all the parents out there….you know what I mean when I say, what a relief to have that visit behind me!  I want what my children want and I am so impressed with their courage as they begin this journey at a French school.

The next day, we left for Paris to meet Matt and spend our last week of summer traveling to Paris, Chamonix and Annecy.

By the time August 21st arrived, we were ready to go to France!  Bags were packed, visas obtained, good-byes said….We flew out of Boston on Air Portugal through Lisbon to Marseille.  When we checked in, the woman at the desk asked us how long we were going to be in France.  “Four months” I said.  She asked “Do you have a visa?”

“I sure do!” I smiled as I responded….Silently, I thanked her for asking.  She had no idea!

We boarded the planet 6pm and scored with an empty seat next to us.  The three of us held hands as the plane took off.  I cried.  It was an victorious moment.

The flight from Boston to Lisbon was only six hours.  We had a two hour layover but no time to spare once we went through Immigration and security.  By 11:15am, we were in Marseille.  We high-fived and rolled our bags outside.  I ordered an uber to Aix en Provence. I thought initially, we would have arrived in Aix by train, but my landlady had emailed me that it our apartment was only 20 minutes from the airport. Why not treat ourselves to a ride? When we were in the car, we were all very happy not to be on public transportation.  Luckily, our uber had a large trunk to fit our 3 large suitcases, travel roller bags and backpacks.  He was a fast driver!

Catherine, our kind landlady was waiting at the apartment when we arrived.  All three of us were so pleased when we walked in to our new home!  The tile floors, faded brass door knobs, white walls, old fashion key latches, and small efficient kitchen contributed to an unmistakably French home.  We have a jack and jill bathroom separating the toilet from the sinks and bathtub/shower. (Bonus!  I love baths)   The kids share a room with bunk beds, and my room is spacious and lovely.  There is an office with a wooden desk, printer and futon and our family room has a piano!

Catherine and me

Sadie was like Eloise in the New York Plaza Hotel  opening every door of every closet, cubbord, and room in the apartment after arriving.

Just as Catherine was ready to leave, it started to rain.  Like in Utah, Aix has been very hot and dry so Catherine was quite pleased.  We said good-byes and the three of us started to unpack as the storm continued.  At one point, I said “Darn it.  I wish I brought a speaker” and Brewster said “Got it!” and pulled one out of his bag.  Brewster is my hero!  We hooked up the speaker and played some National in honor of Matty, another hero in our story.

We had so much fun unpacking!  Starting fresh is not something that we often have a chance to do.  The kids said it reminded them of camp.  Me, I was in a state of disbelief that we were really in our French apartment and this was really happening.  Blessed.

When the rain stopped, we headed out into the town of Aix.  Catherine had pointed us in the direction to the main square and so off we went!  About three blocks from our apartment, we entered a narrow pedestrian street.  There was an alley off that street, and down the way, there was another alley and another pedestrian street.

This is the great old city center of Aix en Provence and it is truly amazing.  It is a  labyrinth of pedestrian streets surrounding main plaza called the Rotonde.  In the center of the Rotonde is this fountain.

Stopping at the Bureau of Tourism for a few maps was our first priority.   We then headed to the supermache to buy some staples and that point, we hit a wall.  Exhausted, it was time to go home.  Unfortunately, we walked the wrong way and it didn’t take us long to become lost in the jungle of streets.  At this point, we were very very tired so we had to dig deep.  Brewster took charge, looking at the map and navigated us back to our apartment.  Hooray for Brewster!  Sadie and I laughed later saying it was a good thing that we weren’t on this adventure alone.  We’d be like the blind leading the blind.

When we arrive home, I made a spaghetti dinner and we ate and then crashed hard.  We slept about 12 hours and not until 11am the next day did we wake up for Day 2!  Sadie and I went to our neighborhood convenient store to buy some milk and fresh fruit.  After breakfast, Sadie started playing the piano.  We invested in an iTunes app to learn piano and Sadie said she hopes to be proficient by Christmas.

A few hours later, the three of us headed back into the City center.  This time, we had a more confidence and energy.  Our first stop was to the cell phone store, Orange, to buy French SIM cards.  We all agreed it would be good for all three of us to have access to data and texting while in France so Sadie too signed up for a cell plan.  And so now we have French phone numbers and google maps wherever we go!

We went to a cafe on the Rotonde to celebrate and recharge.  The cafe culture is real in Aix.  So many cafes with so many people sitting with an ice cream or coffee in the middle of the day talking and often smoking.  The kids are shocked (and disgusted) by all the cigarettes.  Sadie said that she could understand how old people would smoke, but why would young people smoke when they knew it was bad for them?  Good point Sades.

Bus passes were next.  We bought them at the office of tourism and were pleased to learn there is a direct bus from outside our apartment door to Sadie and Brewster’s school.  We  came home via an outside artisan market and then chilled for an hour or so until it was time for dinner.  We decided to check out the pizza place around the corner.  Sadie gave me a “talking to” as we sat down. She said “Mom, you have to stop pretending to understand what they are saying when they speak French to you.”

“What do you mean?” I asked.  She laughed and said, “They asked if you were picking up an order.  And you answered ‘yes 3′”. We giggled.  I, of course thought they asked how many were in our group and so I answered “3”.

We sat at a table outside under a near full moon and ate tasty pizza in our very French neighborhood.

I knew that securing a visa to live for a semester in France was not going to be a cake walk.  However,  I didn’t realize that the process would turn into the most stressful event of my forty-four year old life.

Last winter, when I started planning for our adventure,  I first found an apartment in Aix en Provence through a site called sabaticalhomes.com .  My landlord is Canadian and she sent me her website showing me her apartment. It felt like a magical match so I put down the deposit and in January I bought plane tickets to France.  Committed,  I started looking into the visa process.  It took me a few hours to figure out exactly what I needed to live over there.  We’d be there for more than 3 months but less than a year so I needed a long-stay visa.  I  I found  most of the information on line on the French Visa Website.

To obtain a visa, you have to complete the check-list.  Although the list was pretty long, I was confident that I’d be able to gather all the needed information easily: proof of an apartment, copies of our passports, additional medical insurance for our stay  in France, bank statements showing financial independence, etc.  I needed to apply for the visa on-line and then physically go to San Francisco since is Utah’s assigned consulate.

As it worked out, the Hutchinson summer camping trip was planned for California in July.  Since the visa process normally took about 2 weeks, I thought we had enough time to go the Visa Department in late July and leave for France 21 August.  I don’t like to should myself,  but we “should” have gone earlier to San Francisco.  Maybe in May or June, but we didn’t.  Hindsight 20/20.

Our visa appointment was set for July 27th at 2pm.

Preparing for our appointment, I gathered all the items on the visa check list and placed them in my “France folder”.  The night before we left for California, I pulled out my folder and reviewed it one last time and realized that I was missing something. Somehow I never noticed that I needed a background check.

I immediately google it and see on someone’s blog,: “The background check is not hard to obtain.  It just takes a few weeks by mail”.  A FEW WEEKS?  I was dying….

I quickly found a Criminal Bureau of Investigation office in Salt Lake City and made the plan to go in the morning before leaving for California.  After a nearly sleepless night, I drove down to Salt Lake City at 8am.  Unsure if I would be able to leave the CBI office with what I needed for my visa, I was a ball of nerves.  It turned out, a background check costs $15 and takes about 5 minutes to pull.

I left all smiles.  Report in hand, I drove back up to Park City to complete a few last things on the checklist before our departure. I took the kids to the local UPS store for passport photos and then swung by Matt’s office to make copies our passports.  A few hours later we drove to California with our passports and the “France folder”.

The following Monday afternoon, we were on a ferry returning from a beautiful adventurous day on the Channel Islands.   I sat on the outside deck of the boat and Sadie came to join me.  She sat on my lap and casually said, “Did you know that you left your Passport on Daddy’s work copier?” 

WHAT???  My stomach dropped.  “How do you know that?” I demanded.

“Daddy just checked his email and his secretary told him.”  A four letter word slipped out of my mouth. 

Panicked, I texted Shelby, a coworker of Matt’s, and she graciously offered to  fed-ex the passport to me in San Francisco.  Pioneer Day,  a Utah-only holiday was the following day, but she would  send it Wednesday so I’d have it for my 2pm Friday Visa appointment. All I needed was an office address to send the passports where someone could sign for it.  My dear friend Chantal came through and Shelby sent it to her office on Market Street in San Francisco.  At about 1pm on Friday,  Matt double parked our car on hectic Market Street and Sadie and I ran into Chantal’s office and picked up my passport.  I left smiling.   We were ready for our visa appointment.

The four of us walked into the SF Visa agency at 2:02pm and sat down in the waiting room. We were not alone.  The room was filled with people obtaining visas.  When the person in charged called for those with 1pm appointments and it was 2:30, we knew we were going to be there for awhile.  We didn’t even have our books or a deck of cards!

Finally, finally, finally it was our turn.  For the next two hours, we sat with a woman who went through every document needed for a French long-stay visa. I had everything in my “France folder” so I was feeling good.  They asked us dozens of questions, fingerprinted both Brewster and me and at the end charged us a small fortune for the visas. 

The appointment took forever.   It was nearly 6pm, when we wrapped up.  I kissed our passports, handed them over as the lady assured me that the process usually took about two weeks.

I paid extra so that the passports would be overnighted to Matt’s dad, Poppy, who lives in New Hampshire since were were flying to France from Boston.  At the time, I thought I was clever to buy us 10 extra days in case the visas were delayed. 

As long as we had the visas by August 21st, we were all set.

On August 10th, Brewster, Sadie and I kissed Matt good-bye and flew to Boston.  We spent a week on Cape Cod with my family and then I went to visit my lovely friend Steph in Nantucket while the kids spent a few days with their Poppy in New Hampshire.

About three days into our vacation on the Cape, I texted Poppy to see if he had received our passports.  He had not.  I didn’t think it was a big deal.  We still had over a week before our departure. I went on line to track them.  I then learned that our passports were in Washington DC at the French Consulate. 

I emailed the French Consulate to check in and two days later, I received this response:

Dear Madame,

Our records show that your applications just arrived at our Embassy on the 14th of August. There apparently was a substantial delay with your applications. We will take note of your departure date, but please understand that there are certain stages of the visa processing that we cannot expedite.

Regards, Consulat général de France

UhOh.  It’s now Thursday, August 16th.  I needed them to process our visas STAT and overnight them by Friday in order to have them in time for our departure on Tuesday August 21st.

Fully consumed by this situation, I thought of nothing else.  A few hours later, I received an email that said they were missing documents.  They asked for:

 – Invitation letter redacted by your host in France and also a copy of his/her identity document ( Catherine Stieltjes )

– A parental autorization and a copy of the identity document of the father ( for both childrens)

– Proof of school attendance ( for both childrens)

I rushed to pull it all together and felt severely annoyed that they never mentioned these documents in San Francisco.  Thankfully, my landlady in France responded to my desperate email in just a few moments and sent over a scan of her passport.  In less than 15 minutes after I received the Consulate email, I responded.  I hoped the Consulate had what they needed to process our visas.  But time was ticking. 

I was obsessed.  How was this going to shake out??

The rest of that day was not great.  I was agitated, emotional, and nervous.  Sadie had an earache and felt lousy.  Brewster retreated silently to his room in the Cape and by 12n he was fighting back tears.  “Mom, what are we going to do?”  He too was concerned.

I assured him that we’d likely get our passports in time and if not, we’d change our flights to France and it was no big deal. I had to shift my energy.  It worked and by the afternoon, spirits were a little  higher, but I was still reeling inside.

Right before I went to bed on Thursday, I remembered a powerful story my yoga teacher, Amanda told me. (I love love Amanda.  She married MC Yogi and is traveling the world painting Buddha murals.  Check out  her work on her website 10,000 Buddhas).   Amanda and Nick were traveling to India and there had been a delay with their visas  (the same situation as mine).  Amanda said she was freaking out a couple days before her departure because she didn’t have a passports,  She started chanting to Ganesh to remove all obstacles (That is the superpower of Ganesh!). Inspired,  I pulled out my beautiful Mala beads that my lovely friend Whitney gave me started praying to Ganesh.  I slept with my beads.  (footnote: these powerful mala beads are made by our college friend Logan who makes yogic jewelry.  Check out her website Silver & Sage)

Friday morning, I was up early.  Wearing my mala beads, I paddled out to the middle of our tranquil Cape Cod pond (Long Pond) and sat down on my board.  I closed my eyes and repeated a mantra to Ganesh 108 times: Om Gam Ganapataye Namaha;   I needed a solution, but I also needed peace.

I know that suffering is attachment.  Admittedly, I was attached to going to France on Tuesday, August 21st and it was driving me insane.  I needed to remain flexible, but I also needed my passports.  I finally found the courage to call TAP (Air Portugal) to see how much it  would cost to change our plane ticket in case our passports did not arrive.  News to me, our flights were non cancellable nor changeable.  If we didn’t get on the plane on Tuesday the 21st, we would have to buy new tickets.

I was beyond bummed out and overwhelmed.

I spent  most of Friday morning writing emails to the Consulate with the word URGENT in the subject line. I called the San Francisco Visa department which proved to be useless.  No one knew when our visas would be granted and they said they did not have a phone number to the French Embassy in Washington DC.    By 2pm Friday afternoon, I realized that something had to happen soon or I would be buying three last-minute-one-way plane tickets to France. 

Talking to my sister Mara who is both amazing and solution oriented, we reviewed my limited options.  She asked me, “Did you try calling the Consulate in DC?”  Deflated, I responded,  “I did.  The menu to visas is a recording that says that the only way to inquire about the status of a visa is email them.  There is no one to talk to”.   

“Why don’t you dial a different department at the Consulate and see what happens?”  Mara offered.  I knew she was feeling sad.  My sisters are good like that..they want what I want.  They feel what I feel.  Having two sisters, I am doubly blessed.

“OK, I’ll try.  Nothing to lose.” I said, feeling  hopeless.

I dialed the French Embassy once again in Washington DC.  Instead of choosing the visa selection on the voice mail menu, I picked another number hoping to talk to someone live.   

My wish was granted when a French woman answered.  I launched in quickly with my sob story:  “I know you don’t work in the visa department but I am desperate.  My name is Sara Hutchinson and I am trying to track down my passports before Monday.  I believe they are in Washington DC and I have a flight on Tuesday”.   I continue on and on and on.  I finally paused, she kindly said “Oh, I am so so so sorry.  It’s just so horrible.” She continued to agree with me sympathetically.

I said sincerely , “You sound so nice. I wish YOU could help me.”  

Pause. 

“What is your last name?” She asked to my surprise.  “Hutchinson.  H-U-T-C-H-I-N-S-O-N.” I spelled it out slowly, praying that Ganesh was finally removing an obstacle.  The French madam  asked me to hold and a few minutes later she came back and said, “You are very lucky.  I will transfer you to someone in the visa department”.  A moment later, I was connected to someone who might be able to help me.  YES! 

The man one the other end of the line was not nearly as sympathetic nor as sweet as the French woman.  He was all business.  He sternly asked me for all of our information which I had: passport numbers, visa application numbers, birthdates.  A few moments later he verified that our long-stay visas had been granted that afternoon.   Our passports were scheduled to be sent to San Francisco on Monday by overnight mail.  From there, they’d be sent to us in New Hampshire.

“Wait!  Can I come to DC to pick them up? I’ll come to DC.  Please! ” I begged.  “Will you set the passports aside with my name on them and I will pick them up on Monday?”

“No.” He said.  “That is not my job.  You need to email the embassy for your request.  I don’t know if that is possible.”  Before I we hung up, I asked him what the subject of my email should say.  He suggested, ‘I verified my visas are ready, can I come to DC?”

“OK.  Thank you, thank you.”  I wrote an email with that exact subject line and waited for a response. About an hour later,  I received this email:

Dear Madame,

We will exceptionally allow you to come to the Embassy to pick up your passports. Please come between 9 am and 4:30 pm. 

Regards,  Consulat général de France

Relief!  With Mara’s assistance we booked my travel to DC on Monday. I changed my Nantucket flight, booked an overnight train from Boston-DC to arrive at 7am and then bought a one-way flight back to New Hampshire on Monday afternoon.  Mara insisted that I go to DC Sunday night so I would be at the Embassy on Monday morning when they opened.  I pretty much do what Mara tells me to….

A few minutes before 5pm, I opened my computer to send one more email to the consulate confirming that I would be at the Embassy on Monday.  That is when I saw this:

Madame, 

Your visa was granted today and your passport will be sent back on Monday. We cannot have you come to the Embassy to pick up your passport, as this is against protocol.

Regards, Consulat général de France

I felt sick.  I read the email over and over again.  Who sent this and why?  I knew that I needed to go to Washington DC on Monday and be there when the Embassy opened but now I was worried that I’d be turned away.

I spent the weekend in Nantucket with my dear friend Steph consumed both by doubt and hope She did her best to decompress my stress with a yoga class, a long run and massage.  By Sunday night I was anxious to travel to DC.  I needed to have an answer.  Would we go to France on Tuesday or not?

My 7:30pm flight from Nantucket to Boston was on time when I arrived at the airport but weather was moving in. Nerves once again filled me knowing that my  connection from the Boston airport to the Amtrak station was only an hour.  With any airline delay my travel to DC could be derailed. (no pun intended 🙂

While I waited for my flight, I searched my email for my Amtrak ticket. I wanted to make sure that I had everything all set in case I had to run to my train when I arrived in Boston. 

I couldn’t find my train ticket anywhere.  I did not have a confirmation email from Amtrak so I called American Express.  They didn’t see a charge so I went to amtrak.com to rebook the ticket. The train was sold out.  I panicked.

It was 7:15pm when I started googling flights leaving Boston after 9:30pm,  Disheartened but not surprised, there were very few options and all of them were expensive.  It occurred to me to check Southwest Airlines and was relieved to see a 10:25pm flight from Boston to Baltimore for under $200. Figuring, I could take a train down to DC early in the morning to make it to the  Embassy by 9am, I bought the ticket. Next  I booked a cheap hotel near BWI and then patiently waited for my Nantucket flight to depart.

The fact that I never bought a train ticket was divine intervention.  Not only was the Nantucket flight 40 minutes delayed but also,  there was a fire that night on the tracks in Trenton, NJ and the Amtrak train I was going to be on was delayed for hours. I would have either missed my train because of the flight delay, or worse, would have been stuck on the train in the middle of the night with no options.

I arrived in gritty Baltimore after midnight and ubered to my hotel.  Right before falling asleep I chanted to Ganesh praying for my passports.  I didn’t sleep well, so it was easy to wake up at 6am to catch the hotel shuttle to the MARC train station. I rode the 7:08am train from BWI to Union station in Washington DC and ubered to the French Embassy.  I arrived a few minutes before 9am.

I walked through an iron gate to a guard station.  Through bullet proof glass, a French guard said “Do you have an appointment?”

“No.” I replied.  “But I do have an email that says that I can come to the Embassy to pick up my passports today.”

“Do you have a copy of that email?” He asked.

“Yes” I answered, relieved that I had a printed copy .(Thank you Cousin JB for that suggestion!)

He took the email and my photo ID and walked away to make a phone call.

I thought, this is it.   If the guard says no, I am leaving DC without passports. I didn’t see a way I could talk the guard into helping me.   If I am let in, I may be golden. 

Please, please, please, I prayed.

A few minutes later, he came back with a visitor security badge.  Elated, I walked quickly to Building B though the metal detector, a gate, and an another gate.

I saw the sign for the Visa department and walked in.  The office was empty and I went straight to the window and a man said, .“Are you Sara Hutchinson?”  He handed me three passports and said softly,  “I am so sorry”.

I started crying.  Tears flowed down my face as  I pressed my palms together in Namaste and raised them to my heart center.  “Thank you.” I whispered.  “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Relief washed over me.  It was over. I was holding my passports and we going to France on Tuesday!  WowWowWow.

One other remarkable thing happened that day.  My father-in-law texted when he heard the news and asked if I could catch an earlier flight back to New Hampshire.  I called American Airlines and said that I was flying out of Dulles at 3pm to Manchester and asked if I had any earlier options.  She looked up my reservation and said, “Did you say Dulles?” 

“Yes” I respond.   

She said, “You are flying out of DCA.”

“Where is DCA?”  I asked.  Clueless. 

She said “Ronald Regan International which is a second Washington DC airport.”

“WOW” I said.  “I am glad I called!”

Again, I felt the power of my angels.  Without this phone call, I would have gone to the wrong airport.  That may have broken me.

Looking back, I learned a few lessons:

• • • • When dealing with any visa situation or bureaucracy, leave plenty of time.
      • Remain patient & read the fine print.
      • Pray, chant, believe & don’t give up.
      • Be kind to everyone you talk to as I never know who might be the one to help me.
      • Keep it all in perspective.  Steph reminded me that my passport project wasn’t exactly like waiting for a liver transplant.

True that!

When I first moved to Park City in 2004, I was pregnant with Brewster.  Matt had passed the Utah bar and scored a job two years prior in 2002 at Fabian & Clendenin in SLC.  We were living at my folk’s condo on Park Avenue and I didn’t have many friends. I was practicing yoga at Silver Mountain Sports Club & I met two pregnant mamas, Lisa D’Agostino & Jane Perkins.   Our babies are all the exact same age, and I love and am so grateful to them both for being some of my first friends in Park City. It’s hard to make those friends…..

Jane and I both birthed boys the same month (December, 2004) and shared a nanny named Lindsey.  At one point when the boys were little, Jane asked me to be if I wanted to be in a mediation circle.  Of course I said yes knowing nothing about mediation….The joiner in me shines…..

So, I hired a babysitter and drove over to Jane’s beautiful home.  She lead me outside to the back yard….There lies some of the very little (and coveted) water in Park City.  We sat on her little bridge and sitting area at the Quarry Mountain stream.  Jane introduced me to a new group of women.  None whom I had ever seen…..Thirteen years later, these women are some of my closest secret-keepers of my life.  Together they have shared incredible highs and lows in our lives.  We have picked Angel Cards and talked about dreams, disappointments and intentions for all those years.  Jane, Ruth, Senti, Stacey, Ruth Pam, Kristi and Becca are my mediation soul-sisters.

Senti and Stacey both studied in Santa Monica and earned Masters of Spirituality: An OMAzing program.  They have taken their learnings and started a program in Park City called LifeCourse Education.  I highly highly recommend the workshops and classes.  I took their six week class “Transformative Personal Highlights”, when they first started teaching and then took the workshop again last year.

I love and loved the amazing work that Stacey and Senti are sharing with the world!  The work so effective….One of their exercises at the workshop is to create what they call and “Ideal Scene” . I drew a circle in the middle of a blank sheet of paper and circled the words “I AM” . And then I drew lines with bubbles at the end. I filled the bubbles with a bunch of things that I wanted to attract in your life.  I only had to be 50% believable.  It helped me identify what it is in my life that I want.  And….to be specific.

A few months after Matt & I had  agreed that a semester was “do-able” in France with the kids, I signed up for a second LIfecourse clas.  October, 2017 was time for me to plan!  Brewster was in 7th grade grade and I knew I wanted to go when he was in 8th.  I  didn’t want to mess with his high school credits.  The time to go to plan to France was now.

I created an ideal scene of my life in France: living in a French apartment with the kids, walking them to school, to face-timing with Matt, sitting at a cafe…..During the few weeks of my Lifecourse, the ideal scene for France unfolded.

It wasn’t just happening during class time.  Stacey and Senti assigned homework.  I had to  take e one item from that “ideal scene” and add action.  That is when I started looking for an apartment.

I have a favorite morning meditation that I often listen to created by Johnathan Lehmann.  It’s just 10 minutes and if you want to listen, click here. He talks about  seven affirmations that set us up fora  great day.

The first one is very powerful: Make plans and remain flexible.

I always wanted to live in France for a year and I definitely wanted to go with Matt and the kids.  I thought Chamonix would be a fantastic place for us to live.  The kids would go to school and Matt and I would head out to Mount Blanc to adventure.  We’d travel all over Europe having the year of our lives!

Matt owns his own law firm in our town and a few years years ago he broke the news to me.  “I can not go to France.  No way.  I am just too busy.”

While I whole-heartedly understood his news on a cerebral level, I was disappointed.  I tried to talk him into it.  I pointed out that with the power of intention he could do anything that he wanted.  He astutely responded  with the reality that if he left town for a year, his clients will find a new attorney.

Darn.

The dream was on pause for a few years.  It wasn’t until two years ago in September, 2016 that the door opened up once again.  My dearest friend, Whitney and her family came to Park City and stayed at Stein Erickson Lodge.  Our families match up perfectly: Henry & Brewster;  Lila &  Sadie; Greg & Matt; Whitney & me.

On the Sunday morning that they were in town, I met Whitney for yoga at the Lodge.  We headed to the Spa after and were having a “life talk” in the hot-tub.  I brought up France and my disappointment that we couldn’t go at because of Matt.  Whitney encouraged me to be open to all possibilities.  Maybe go for a summer?  Or a semester?  I remember feeling like a spoiled child who knew what I wanted and couldn’t have it….No, I want to go for a year.  I was stuck.

I didn’t decide that day to change my plan from a year with Matt to a semester with just the kids.  But Whitney reminded me to be flexible.

On a grey April day in 2011, the seed to live to France was planted.  Our son, Brewster was wrapping up Kindergarten at our local neighborhood school in Park City, Utah.  His sister, Sadie was not yet three years old.

I was sitting in a Park City Hospital room at with Matt.  Matt dislocated his shoulder on New Years Day. He suffered and skied until the end of the season.  (That’s what ski-crazy people do)  When the chair lifts stopped running for the season, Matt made an appointment for surgery.

As we waited for surgery, I checked my iPhone email.   The Park City School board approved a dual-immersion program at our local school the night before.    Brewster’s school, Trailside, was going to pilot the french dual immersion program starting with the first graders that Fall.

Wait!  That’s us!!!!

I vividly remember feeling like we won the lottery.  Not only do  I love love love the French culture, language and country (not to mention my beloved St Barths) I love the idea of teaching a devloping brain a foreign language.   And right down the street at the public school.  Utah’s connection with the LDS church and missionaries make languages an educational priority.    I can’t drink full strength beer on tap here in Utah, but my kids have an option for DLI funded by the state at their public school.  We’ll take it.

It was a no brainer. We signed Brewster up!  He was going to spend half his days at school speaking and learning French.  Sadie was three years behind him and she too would be in the French DLI program.

It was that day in 2011 that I thought: I’d love to live in France with the kids.  I’d like to put them in a french school.  I am to make that happen.   Yes, I’d like to try and make that happen.

And here we are in 2018.  We leave for France in six weeks and will be there for four months.