Tuesday 21st August Dijon

The crew slipped off to acquire pain, We breakfasted heartily and set off for our Dijon walking tour at 11am. Not bad by our standards. Foolishly I allowed the crew to choose a different route in. We did however enjoy the arabesque park en our rather circuitous long route.

Once in the town we followed the owl trail, takes you all round the city and there are little metal plaques won the pavements every 20m. For kids really but everybody uses them for the perfect walking tour of the magnificent Dijon. What a city. Magnifique and my number one recommendation for a long weekend break. It is just very special. Eateries are everywhere, every corner unearths another brolly filled gourmet delight and the competition of course ensure serious quality.

First stop was the gustav Eiffel designed market halles. The market of course dominates the streets all around as well. The queue for the indoor fromage store was a bit of a clue and I purchased some of the burgandy speciality cheese discovered at lunch in st. Jean, eppuisse.

Of course there was the obligatory matress stall

It was yet another absolute stonker and by now we were both gasping. We headed for the Kent cafe on the corner and settled in for some people watching and a beer. You can just spot Collette tucked in to the right of the Mahoney lookalike. Thankfully she waited to order my beer so I did not have to endure another cherry leffe.

the Kent was perfect. We got free water with the beer and rose wine. I ordered a glass of rose for myself having tasted collettes. Very nice indeed and rather refreshing. Classically French we were sat side by side and there was one table about 5 cms to our left which was made vacant by the two American intellectual wannabes students pretending to read the French newspaper but clearly only looking at the pictures and desperately trying to look part of the French scene.

A slightly older and more portly version of meryl Streep approached and took the table and any empty chair in sight including one from our table which she had enquired after.

Her friends sat down with her and my chair was apparently surplus to requirements as they had placed 5 round the tiny table and she had only 3 guests. She was clearly group leader and was impeccably polite and deliriously humerous. She courted the young waiter in her immaculate french and organised drinks and food for her friends. The group started talking. Dutch. They were all very jolly, the lady opposite me was the women from to the manor born, the meek humble friend of Penelope Keith. She spent an hour giggling at her leaders tales and constantly smiling at me as though someone had broken wind and she was letting me know it was not her.

Suddenly the leader whose thigh is a constant companion of my own, turns and babbles some French at me . Yes everything is very good here, I reply in my best French.

Ah what language do you speak, where do you come from?

French you ruddy irriot and I come from England.

In stunning queens Oxford, she reports, this chair is not required thank you! And at that she starts to push it toward where I am relaxing my legs which is about a foot from our table. We are talking no room here since others in tables in front have since moved in and taken up the space the chair had previously occupied.

Staggered by her arrogance having asked for the chair 15 minutes ago and now deciding it was in her way, I was having none of it. I gestured in front of me with a well where the bloody hell do you think it can go look.

She left the chair in no mans land and turned back to her chipper chums and immediately took over center stage again with wistful banter. I ordered steak and chips for the crew and I had poulet. A grande pichet of rose and a large jug of water. The chair was going nowhere.

The luvvies finished their meal and left. I got a beaming smile from miss constipated and a very nice and very friendly au revoir and Bon vacance from Streep. Truth is I rather liked her!

We eventually left the Kent having enjoyed a fabulous 2 1/2 hours over lunch for the princely sum of 30€ including 3€ tip. The market stalls had all packed up and gone and the square was getting deserted. We strolled through to the normally bustling leffe square. It was very quiet with all the luncheoners having drifted off to seek shade and siesta.

Spotted a chef having a fag break in a side street. The conversation in which I asked her if she objected to me taking her photo was challenging to say the least. I still think she has me down as some sort of Pervy. Fair enough!

We followed the owls and took in the sights, what a beautiful city.

And of course we had a quick look at the mustard museum, well come on!

We never made it back to the boat without one more beer stop and We were pretty exhausted but when we finally got back to the boat, I took off on the bike to get beer and wine with thoughts of some experienced guests arriving soon. I got a bit carried away and had to load the steel steed with 38 cans of beer and 8 bottles of wine along with some cheeses and dinner for tonight. Having loaded her up, I realised I still had to return my trolly to retrieve my one euro. This entailed wheeling the bike one handed whilst guiding a shopping trolley as i could not leave such booty unattended. It was a bloody nightmare and within minutes the bike was on the floor the trolley was hurtling toward a parked car and i was prostrate on the floor wondering which to try and save first. Somebody would surely stop the trolley. I lifted the bike and unbelievably the wine bottles had survived as the fall was on the cans side. Yes baby yes yes yes! A lovely old lady was suddenly standing beside me with my trolley. Life can be so good sometimes.

Some sense had been stunned into me as i walked the bike back rather than ride. The crew were staggered with my booty but clearly pleased with my meal offerings for tonight. Then, something very strange happened.

I thought it was the end of the world or had the Dutch found a way of controlling the weather being as they are so very very clever. The pictures do not give the 3d effect. This was like no sky I had ever witnessed it looked like huge heavy balls of dough in perfect patterns

 

I drank heavily just in case iether was true whilst collette prepared the meal. A tagine of chicken with prunes and olives accompanied by haricot beurre. White variety purchased at this mornings market. Washed down with some more rose as I do not like to mix my drinks we were finally ready to retire to the poop with a glenfiddich to make sure the world was ok. It was.

 

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