We have had the definitive French experience and I have no idea how to put it into words. Like the first time I stood before Botticelli’s Birth of Venus in Florence or after reading The Hours for the first time, I have stored it in my memory museum so that I can revisit it again and again. It was the absolute embodiment of why I wanted to come to France, of everything I love about this amazing culture.
The Farmer and The Wife graciously invited us to dine with them and a few friends at a local restaurant. Now this is exciting. Lots of things to consider though- what to wear? how to not speak rapid English while believing that perfect French is flowing out of my mouth? how to order something that doesn’t have brains in it? how to try all the wines and not be totally hammered before the 1st course? All this was swirling around my already busy melon for a couple of days.
Of course it was on the evening of the day all our stuff arrived and I was exhausted. I’m still trying to get used to the 8 o’clock dinner time here. Anyway the lovely Farmer Michel collects us to meet up with the others. He says “we are nine tonight” and I start sweating. How the hell will I understand a word once they all get yakking top speed? I’ll be left out, a complete doofus, smiling and nodding, eating rare brains. Continue reading “Falling In Love At Le Cheval Rouge” »