Let me try to explain it, though. I took a train from Paris to Vernon one morning. Vernon is a bigger (but still very small) town outside of the tiny village Giverny and it’s the only way to get there. From Vernon, I rented a bike to take to Giverny—about a 20-minute bike ride.
Totally worth it.
And yes, I had to do one thing…
Kind of embarrassing. And that stretch of road wasn’t the prettiest of the trip, but still, you could see my mood. J
The air all the way to Giverny smelled like flowers, for they were everywhere. No houses had yards, only gardens. It was absolutely beautiful. Domesticated flowers filled up the gardens, but on the street sides, wild flowers (mostly poppies) grew happily.
I got into the little village of Giverny (by the way, it’s pronounced “zhee-vair-nee,” not “giver-knee” like I had pronounced it for so long) and was so happy to be there. It was really barely bigger than a few roads. I went to the Monet gallery, where they had a special exhibition of more Monet’s than ever. I saw the water lilies paintings and everything. It took my breath away.
After that, I went to the garden. Man, I wish you all could have seen this. So much better than even the paintings of Monet, with air so fresh and cool and plants so green a beautiful I could have stayed forever. Take a look.
This tree was original from when Monet lived there.
Here's a walkway through his garden. (These may have been some of the flower seeds I got you, Mom.)
And his wonderful water lilies area...