Good morning, world! How are you today?
I’ve been going through some of my pictures and deciding what to post on Christmas Day. There are a few that I might just end up posting anyway.
It’s going to be my 6th Christmas in France and to be honest, me no likey. AT ALL.
Where I grew up, Christmas starts in September and ends a few days into January. It’s that long and important. The countdown to Christmas starts 100 days before and you see reminders of it on television and print media. Christmas trees are put up as early as October and Christmas lights that adorn one’s house won’t be taken down until late January, sometimes even February. The Christmas spirit is so tangible that you could almost taste it, I kid you not.
What’s not tangible, however, is the holiday spirit here in France. Yes, there are lights and decors and Christmas markets and even street cafés have their windows decorated with snow and Santa Claus but the spirit is just not there.
I feel like the French just can’t be bothered to amp it up. The huge Christmas tree in front of the Notre Dame doesn’t even help.
I see Christmas in Paris, but I don’t feel it, which is a shame because it’s supposed to be the most wonderful time of the year.