We drove into the airport, and we got dropped off. At British Airways, Mark turned in toward the counter. We had to check our bags, so when the desk person said "Toulouse", the gig was up. Or it would have been if I knew where Toulouse was. My first guess of Spain was incorrect - we were headed to France!
Edinburgh had a choice of two executive lounges where we could use our cards, so we stopped in at the first. All of a sudden our 10am flight jumped to 2 hours delayed - and we were just going to London Heathrow! Apparently the aircraft coming from Heathrow had a fault, so they had to switch the aircraft, as well as all the passengers and catering. What that meant to us was that we had 10 minutes before our flight to Toulouse took off when we landed - and when the delay hit 2:45, we weren't going to make it at all.
We spent a good half hour figuring out if there were other ways to get to Toulouse after the gate agent told us we couldn't get on another Heathrow flight, and that the flight we could get on when we got to Heathrow was an 8pm that landed at 11:30pm. At one point Mark told me we had a seven hour drive to our hotel; thankfully I had just misheard him and it was only an hour.
We had switched executive lounges at this point, and we ordered lovely salads for lunch. Neither of us were feeling up for the free beverages after being a bit hungover the day before.
It was settled then - we got the delayed flight to Heathrow, were near the front of the queue to get rebooked, had them call the rental car company to make sure they stayed open, and got tickets for Toulouse at 8pm. We also got 10£ each in vouchers. As they were finishing up, I asked if I could put my frequent flyer number on the ticket, and he told me to find a different counter upstairs.
Upstairs was also where the lounges were, so up we went and stopped by the counter. I asked if we got any compensation for the long delay, and she printed out two more 10£ vouchers. Both Mark and I almost said something about already having some - but by keeping our mouths shut, we were able to have a fine dinner with a drink each at the pub grub place before boarding the flight. (I skipped over the hours of waiting in the lounge. It really made the whole experience bearable.)
At the Edinburgh airport, Mark revealed the full itinerary, so I knew we were headed to Carcassonne. All I knew about it was there was a medieval game named after it. I didn't know that it was a top tourist site in France - and that it was marvelous.
Getting to Carcassonne wasn't hard, but our hotel was in the castle. Literally within the castle walls, which meant that cars weren't able to get up to the door of the pedestrian-only walks. Getting to the meeting point for the hotel, we found a pair of snuggling French 20-somethings, but no one staffing the booth. We drove to the parking lot, and a code box thwarted our passage there.
I pulled up Skype, Mark turned on his hotspot, and the concierge picked up our call and agreed to meet us at the meeting spot. After getting free private parking (he was clearly not excited about us going to public parking and him having to wait), we barreled through the tiny streets in the hotel's tiny van to the courtyard in front of the stone building. Even in the dark we could tell it was captivating.
The giant kingsized bed (and the "pillow menu", which we ignored) was waiting for us. We set an early alarm to be awake for breakfast, so then we could do some roaming before checkout time. I didn't change my cell phone clock the hour forward before going to bed, since we used Mark's alarm.
Quite a few snoozed alarms later, I got in the shower with bottles of yummy smelling stuff I found on the counter. After skipping around the room in a robe and taking another wander out on the balcony that overlooked parts of the historic castle (no tourists out yet), I joined Mark and headed down for breakfast. It was tables of fresh, sweet, hot, or otherwise delectable goods - the fruits I added to fresh goat cheese yogurt for my favorite dish; Mark piled up the meats and cheeses for an open-faced sandwich. Both of us seriously considered seconds on the salmon before instead deciding to have a macaron (not macaroon - that's something different, I learned the other week) for our breakfast dessert. I was slightly perturbed that he had to be prompted to wish me a happy birthday, but the gorgeous setting he had brought me to alleviated most of the poutiness.
Mark asked me the time when we got back upstairs and I said it was 10:00am - plenty of time for a game of Carcassonne at Carcassonne! He asked me to arrange the chairs outside so we could both see the game. He brought the bag with the pieces outside, and I went to get a towel to lay down since the slats on the table were too gappy to lay down the pieces. He helped me unfold it, then just stopped helping. Odd, but I moved the bag more toward me on the table, and I saw a glimpse of a black box that I could only assume was a ring. I reached in and got that and the card out.
I opened the card - I've always loved how Mark writes cards, with so much love and sincerity. I read through his few paragraphs, which included the fact that the extra pages were pictures of his maternal grandmother and grandfather and his mother's writing about their love story.
You see, it was his mom's mom's ring that he had gotten resized and checked by a jeweler. Seventy years later, he had been offered it by his mother as we were talking about rings (because yes, we had done our talking about rings when he was in Colombia and I had gotten pictures of the ring to make sure I liked it). The box had a little light to make sure the first time I saw it in person, it sparkled.
I answered the ring and the letter with a kiss, then put on the perfectly sized ring. After sharing more smiles and kisses, he said, "So this means yes then?" I told him I hadn't heard him ask a question - the formalities of "will you" and "yes" were exchanged and we sat on the balcony, dumb with happiness.
When I asked if we still had time to play the game, we checked our phones - and instead of the 10am I thought it was, it was actually 11, and now, 11:45 and just fifteen minutes until check out!
We threw everything into bags, I stared at my hand all the way back to the car, shuttled by the concierge, and we headed off to hike a quartet of castle ruins in Lastours.
Sweaty and satisfied, we headed to our hotel across the river from the Carcassonne castle (but still in Carcassonne). Our room was two floors up and gave a gorgeous castle view across the river and the pedestrian bridge. We had a bit to enjoy the view from our terrace (just big enough for a table and two chairs) before getting dolled up for dinner. Since we were in so late the night before, we had missed the dinner that was included in our hotel package.
We were ready early, and I wanted to finally experience the walled city we had stayed in the night before, so we walked up the winding cobblestone walk, up and around to the gates on the side of the city away from the river. We found the single main street running through the five blocks of pedestrian-only (and tourist-only) shops. After peeking into the church across from the Hotel de la Cite, we stopped to look at the restored section of the city, where "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves" had been filmed. With another hour before our reservation, we started at the lounge inside the hotel with exquisitely crafted cocktails.
This dinner was extra special - Mark told me that it was meant to be the precursor to a champagne toast on a balcony the night before, before our travel was delayed by 8 hours. I am so much happier that it happened after our engagement. Mark wasn't nervous and could enjoy the three courses as much as I did. He also said that the hotel asked if he wanted a knight to present the ring. Since we were in a castle, I guess they have a knight on retainer. He had (thankfully) decided against that. If I ever wanted a knight in my life, I could get him to dress up in his Medieval Times attire from college.
We wrapped up the dinner and went to pick up the bill at the front desk, since the meal was included in the room package. Unbeknownst to Mark, the champagne he had ordered for the night before was still being held for him and included on the bill. Our to-go containers were a bag holding the bottle of French champagne and a bag holding two sturdy plastic wine goblets.
We wound down the front of the walled city, casting shadows from the spotlights illuminating the walls for those across the river to enjoy. We padded over the pedestrian bridge that led straight to our new hotel, and popped that champagne in our sweats while finally playing Carcassone on our balcony overlooking the splendid medieval city. Best birthday ever.
