After our BlaBlaCar from Lyon, Dijon welcomed us with warm, gray arms. After lunch, including a tartelette aux framboises that was so delicious I almost cried over it, A and I delightedly took all the flyers and brochures that promised free entry into museums from the tourist office.


Dijon’s a charming little place, and the fact that we stumbled across a little free library with a copy of Le Petit Prince inside only cemented my love for the city.


After checking into our adorable Airbnb (where I was greeted with the lovely surprise of a bichon frise trying to lick my face), I pretty much spent two hours wandering through centre-ville and its various shops, and although I failed to find warmer gloves for my child-sized hands, I did get to drink in the quaint architecture and cobblestoned streets under a sheet of fine rain.

A and I met up at the H & M, and then had our dinner highlight: while paying for our food, the restaurant owners went, “Oh, you’re from the United States! We were wondering why you were speaking such good English!” They were super nice, and now I feel kind of bad for lying about being a student to get the discounted menu price…

Peanut salary struggle aside, we haven’t even been here for a full day and I already want to live here. Why is France like this?


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