New Years Eve – French style
We’re safely back from Belgium, where we celebrated a French-style new year with Marjory and her friends at their place outside Brussels. Aude had a great time, and I spent most of the trip telling everyone that “J’ai un rhume” and that I was avoiding “faire les bises” so as not to spread my germs. It was international diplomacy at its finest.
Marjory and her friends made a superb dinner that left us all stuffed afterwards. We started foie gras and champagne, then moved on to a starter of tabbouleh with fresh grapefruit and prawns, followed by a salade Perigourdine, then filet mignon in a Roquefort sauce, with cheese and dessert afterwards. It was dinner as only the French can do – plenty of good food to satisfy the senses, plenty of over-indulgence to make sure you don’t do it too often.
As midnight approached, we opened more champagne and the party really started. There was dancing… and music… and bed! At least, there was for me – I realise that the French like to party late into the night, but by about 1:30 my bed was calling me. Two cold tablets and I was out for the count!
The following morning we were treated to a guided tour of Brussels – and I use the word “guided” loosely. Marjory was nominally our guide, but we could have been visiting Moscow for all she knows about the city. My GPS let me down and we got an even more detailed tour of town on the way back to the Chunnel, but we made it in the end, despite technology’s best efforts to send me in the wrong direction.
