Breakfast The French Way

I spent half the night up coughing and the other half listening to the church bell and the trash truck. The lack of sleep didn’t help my illness and I woke up feeling like I had been crushed in the back of the trash truck. We went down to breakfast and found it too cold to sit on the terrace, repairing instead to the sweet indoor dinning room. Here we feasted on baguettes and jam with yogurt and super strong coffee. Sadly breakfast did nothing to help my head or my aching body. After breakfast we set out to find an internet café, but Scott thought it was time to find a doctor for me to see. Seeing a French doctor is my worst nightmare. In the end we agreed on stopping in the Pharmacy. Erin and I head in with high hopes, but after a few minutes of this woman gesturing toward her nose and asking something Erin can’t understand, I start to get a little worried. I can’t tell if she is asking me if I have a running nose or a stopped-up nose. Finally, the bewildered pharmacist calls over her co-worker who speaks some English and sets me up with some pills and something I am supposed to poke up my nose every few hours. I crawl into the back of the car, take the pills, poke and squeeze the spray up my nose, pull some sweaters over me, and drift off as Scott and Erin launch into some French lesson.