Hudson.

Although I do consider myself an urbanite, heading out of the city is interesting. I felt my body literally unfurling in the seat of the car the closer we got as we drove north to Hudson. By the time we reached the grassy fields surrounding the little town, my lips were loose and I was humming out loud. For an antique lover like Xavier, Hudson is a little haven. The main street in town, Warren Street, is lined with about 40 antique shops.











Frenchies were everywhere in Hudson! We would be dancing along, singing a tune in French or Marguerite would be in the middle of recounting a tale of her school days, when someone would chime in in French. We all appreciated the above sign. We agree that "faire-ing la gueule" (pouting) is a forbidden activity. When we lived in Paris, Xavier and I had a running joke about the pervasiveness of "la gueule" on the metro. It was the one thing we have never been sad to leave behind.