Unexcused Absences

People often ask us where we live — and it shouldn’t be difficult to answer, but it is. We always say Washington, DC, but the reality is that sometimes our hearts are in Colorado, sometimes our hearts are in France, and sometimes they are in the Bahamas.

Our DC area home is the center of our orbit, and we really look forward to seeing family and friends when we are at home. But those days are rare and treasured as we continue in the fifth year of our Unexcused Absence.

On the race course with friends in Colorado

We returned to Colorado for our fifth ski season this past winter, and it felt like coming home. We spent every single night of the first two weeks hosting dinner at our place and catching up with friends. With our on-hill jobs, maybe 1/4 to 1/3 of the employees around us were newer to the resort than us. And the clerks at the grocery store recognize Heather (mostly because she goes straight from the slopes to the store with no wallet about half the time).

In the Bahamas a few weeks ago

On our recent semi-annual trip to our favorite Bahamian island, we walked into the bar after our mid-afternoon flight and were greeted with Rhonda’s huge smile, a warm hug, and a heart-felt “welcome home.” This put to shame any fancy hotel with their database-driven customer “loyalty” program and a fake-friendly “welcome back to the Ritz Carlton, Dr. Vacation!” greeting from a desk clerk you’ve never met before.

Sunday night community pizza in Lagarde

And most recently, we arrived at Après Ski late Sunday afternoon in France. We had no food (grocery stores are closed on Sundays) and were extremely interested in a group of locals gathered around a small restaurant called “Le Snack Pizza.” We joined the group sitting at a large picnic table and ordered pizzas. As more locals arrived, everybody came to greet us with a handshake or the French cheek kisses (bisou). All the children kissed us except one who ran shyly away to the amusement of the group. We were total strangers in the village, and yet by greeting and sitting with the locals, we were instantly treated as part of the community.

Our favorite vineyard in Champagne

Le Snack Pizza is also emblematic of the cultural differences between the US and France. This “restaurant” was only open one day of the week, Sunday, from 7pm – 10pm. Their menu had four items: pizza (with ham and mushroom); a flamm (sort of a thin pizza with onion and lardon); chicken nuggets; and a “Sandwich Americain” (which resembled a sandwich from the US only in the sense that it had meat between two pieces of bun). Somehow, in France, it’s perfectly acceptable to have a “restaurant” that’s only open one day a week – and then serve four items, only for a few hours.

Our decision several years ago to travel deeply instead of broadly has given us a very different and much more satisfying perspective on the places we are choosing to call home. Now if we could just get the grocery stores in France to consider opening on Sundays…