The Inlaws Visit Episode Two: There’s No ‘H’ in Winery

This is the second of several Blog Posts which will document the recent visit of Abbey’s parents: Due to the traumatizing and irritating nature of many of the events that transpired during their visit their names have been changed to protect the innocent. Abbey’s name was not changed as she knew good and well what she was getting herself into when she said “Yes” when I asked for her delicate hand in marriage (her “yes” was immediately followed by “this is weird!!”). Abbey’s parents came to visit, and this is their story.

We are now roughly twelve hours into the visit of Garcon and Centieme – the former being Abbey’s father and the latter her mother, for those who were confused – and exhaustion ruled the evening. Tucked into our beds, we were all blissfully oblivious to the fact that we would not be getting the proper amount of sleep in order to catch our taxi the following morning. After four years of post-college education, I have forfeited the ability to sleep past 8 or 9 AM, so I woke up around 7. Centieme and Garcon were slightly slower to rise as was Abbey – she was feeling slightly worse than the day before, her sore throat had progressed to an unrelenting cough and headache which did not make for a pleasant night’s sleep. Regardless, I woke up, showered, and went downstairs to make coffee for everyone only to find out that while the Marriot provides each room with ground coffee and a coffee maker, coffee filters were nowhere to be found. I therefore curled up on the couch for twenty minutes or so with Frantz Fanon’s “Wretched of the Earth” and enjoyed some violent description of the process of decolonization while the remainder of the family showered, shaved, bided, etc.

Centieme was the first to join me on the ground floor of the villa and, fortuitously, had packed a bag with coffee filters! If only this were to be the largest hurdle we would overcome on this rainy Saturday. The coffee brewed, Garcon descended the stairs, followed shortly thereafter by Abbey…followed shortly thereafter by an overzealous taxi driver who had arrived 15 minutes early. Garcon chugged his coffee, Abbey scrambled to locate her scarves, and I…walked outside with Centieme and waited by the Cab. I then realized I had neglected to turn the coffee pot off. After remedying this situation, I joined the family in the Taxi van and we were off. Until we politely requested that the driver return us to our villa as we had forgotten the address and directions to the winery that Garcon had arranged for us to tour that afternoon outside of Epernay (in the Champagne region of France). I couldn’t tell if this change of events irked the driver or if he was simply being French. Regardless, Garcon ran into the villa, located the folder with the information, and we were on our way.

We arrived at the train station (which was in Paris…for the record, we had caught a taxi and a train and a metro into Paris in order to catch another train that would take us two hours East of Paris, passing the Marriot on the way). By divine providence we decided to Abbey should buy a heavier sweater because the temperature had dropped below anything we had yet experienced in France…it was wintry and drizzling. Garcon and I enjoyed some coffee as we awaited our train…which was…get ready for a surprise…delayed. It was only delayed 15 minutes, though, and we would surely reach the winery with ample time before our 1 PM tour. After boarding the train, Abbey and I talked, Garcon slept, and Centieme knitted. Two hours later, we arrived at Epernay. The train ride – though delayed – would turn out to be one of the more efficient modes of transportation experienced during this visit.

After arriving in Epernay, we usurped the place of a group of Asians in the taxi cab line (using the “confused American” look I have perfected while walking the streets of Paris) and were in a van on our way to the winery. We arrived at the winery 40 minutes ahead of our 1 PM tour time. It was cold. It was rainy. It was beautiful scenery. Abbey bundled up as her and Centieme stood in the entranceway to the winery – nobody was there yet, but there was at least a roof over their heads. Garcon and I separately explored the winery’s exterior. I wandered up and down the hillside to look at…dead grape vines while Garcon peered in windows and pretended not to be growing more irate by the minute. 1:00 PM came…and went…as did 1:15 and 1:30. I continued to take pictures of dead grapes, Abbey and Centieme stayed huddled together for warmth, and Garcon stopped pretending not to be annoyed culminating in leading the charge back into town towards the one boulangerie that we saw on our way in that was open…which was now closed…[expletive]…we kept walking…we found a bar. Abbey used her newly charged cell phone to call a taxi and in the 15 minutes between our arrival at the bar and the taxi’s arrival to pick us up, Centieme, Garcon, and I took out our frustration on a bottle of champagne and shared our adventure with the highly hospitable owners of the establishment. We finished the bottle and the conversation in time to wait a few minutes for the taxi. I was feeling the champagne (something about drinking champagne in Champagne enhanced the effects of the alcohol), Garcon was smiling, and Centieme was – and I quote – “three sheets.” The rest of the day was actually quite fun – we enjoyed a stellar lunch at a local eatery in Epernay, wandered the city – exploring markets and boulangeries and cafés as we strolled – and caught our train back to the Marriot after purchasing some cold medicine at a pharmacie for Abbey. We arrived back at Disneyland and decided – what the hell, why not go to one of the overpriced restaurants in Disneyland for dinner…HA!

After ruling out planet Hollywood and…I don’t know, Mickey’s Rip-off Buffet, we settled on a steakhouse…quite Parisian, I know, but we all thought soup would be good for Abbey’s mysterious illness which - suprisingly - had not improved after standing in the cold rain for almost two hours. We were seated and perused the menu. It was apparently bring 17 of your favorite 0-7 year olds to dinner night because the place was running rampant with screaming children. Even if the “American Cheeseburger” was worth 27 Euros (I wish I was kidding) and the 25 Euro “Carrot and Coriander Soup” cured all illnesses, the ambience was completely ruined by these miniature human beings. We left our table, took some pictures in Disneyland to prove we were there, bought some wine, pizza, and soup (for the now much sicker than earlier Abbey) and retired to the villa for the evening. So ended Day 1.5-2.5 of the Inlaws visit...we'll call it day two.




Afterword: in the winery owner's defense, they have contacted Garcon and felt terrible about not being at the tour, additionally, they have since sent a "sorry we didn't show up for the tour" gift and neither Abbey, nor Garcon, nor Penny, nor I hold any sort of grudge against these fine folks and will all happily continue to drink their wine