Pardon My French
I’ve been incredibly privileged to follow adventure to breathtaking scenes of inspiration and have found joy in documenting these wild scenes along the way. I often use the images I take on my travels as references for my art. In this ongoing series Veronica Ventures, I delve a little deeper into the experiences that feed each of my landscape paintings. For my first installment of the series, I revisit my honeymoon in France back in August 2019, modified from its originally posting on Park City’s Gallery MAR blog.
The view from our Air BnB in Chamonix
For years, I would drive up the road to our little A-Frame in Utah, humming The Sound of Music’s “Edelweiss.” My then-fiance and I lived in Midway, UT on Edelweiss Lane in a small town known for its Alp-themed everything. We dreamed of the day we could visit our beloved home’s namesake: the land of the Edelweiss flowers.
For our wedding, we opted out of registering for gifts. We had no need for a toaster or a new china set. Instead, we registered for experiences: Two croissants and cappuccinos in Paris: $25; A tram ride to the top of Mont Blanc in Chamonix (we’ll even promise to shout your name from the mountaintops!): $75.
WE DREAMED OF THE DAY WE COULD VISIT OUR BELOVED HOME’S NAMESAKE: THE LAND OF THE EDELWEISS FLOWERS.
Almost a year after we said “I do,” we were finally in a financial position to say “Au revoir” (thank you cheap tickets and Air BnB!). So we jet set off to the French honeymoon of our dreams. Hopefully all those half-hearted Duolingo French lessons we crammed in were about to pay off. Now all that stood between us and paradise was a plane ride and a few hours of train rides through the French countryside…plus a rather important missed stop and a few incredibly helpful train workers outside of Lake Geneva (turns out wild gesturing and Google translate can get you almost anywhere).
Finally, we arrived, exhausted and grateful in Chamonix-Mont-Blanc. Stepping off that final train felt like walking out of reality and into a shimmering painting. The brilliant night lights and bustling shops in the valley contrasted beautifully with the majestic hush of the mountain backdrop. Strolling through the shops in the valley, I contemplated how many souvenirs, vintage ski posters, and paintings I could realistically bring back in my one carry-on suitcase.
In the morning, the abundance of bright, sunny flowers in the valley reminded us that it was summer, but the mountaintops told a different story. These mountains whispered of winter, leaving traces of ski runs etched down their sides.
STEPPING OFF THAT FINAL TRAIN FELT LIKE WALKING OUT OF REALITY AND INTO A SHIMMERING PAINTING.
We rode up to the top of the Aiguille du Midi to behold Mont Blanc for ourselves and to inhale the freshest, crispest air I ever breathed. The view that awaited us was that of a watercolor painting, with its freshly reserved whites and its delicately textured shadows. Looking back at photos, even I doubt the credulity. No place actually looks like that… clearly this is a green screen, right?
The foggy romanticism of the clouds rolling over the mountains of faded hues beckoned to be painted. And paint I did! Find my new painting “Alpine Dreams” in the Shop.
The breathtaking view from the top of Aiguille du Midi
“Alpine Dreams,” acrylic, 24” x 48”
After several days of hiking, lift riding, pastry eating, and French drinking (the holy trinity of wine, champagne, and cappuccinos, of course), it was time for our next stop on our Voyage de Noces: the quaint town of Annecy – fondly nicknamed the “Venice of France.”
The alpine city, Annecy, at dusk
Swans and paddle boats dot the turquoise, flower-lined rivers of Annecy,
Swimming through Lake Annecy, referred to as “the cleanest lake in Europe”
This storybook town had perfected the art of escapism with its crystal blue and green waters, flower boxes on every corner, castles on the mountainsides, and swans floating through every river. I was shocked we didn’t find fairies twinkling in the night sky.
After Annecy cast its fairytale spell on us, it was time to end our trip in the iconic heart of France. Only Paris can get away with being this breathtaking in the rain.
Strolling through the courtyard of the Louvre in the rain
From left to right: Our view from our Air BnB, my husband and I kissing in front of the Eiffel Tower, and the rainy stroll through the Louvre’s courtyard
We only had a weekend to act as Parisian as we could (because nothing screams “local” like my Chacos, DSLR camera, and incessant picture taking).
So we walked to the Louvre, sipped wine along the Seine, tried our first crème brûlée (a religious experience), and kissed in front of the Eiffel Tower (because you know I wasn’t about to leave my honeymoon in Paris without that picture).
All in all, our honeymoon was – and please excuse my French – magique.