18:07 Wednesday

16 June 2010 Toulouse


We hit the pizza place across the street both because we’ve been meaning to and because we are waiting for a call from the plumber.  We each ordered a different pizza (33 cm and not 29 cm).  I had one called capricciosa (sauce tomate, jambon, artichaut grille, mozzarella, huile d’olive, olives) and Eric ordered a bolognaise (sauce tomate, oignon, boeuf, emmental, origan).  They were both quite excellent with a paper thin crust.

We drank a bottle of Bardolino Chiaretto Classico (a rose from Italy; 2009 Cesari).

All together the meal and wine totaled about thirty euros and we left stuffed.

However, before we left we met a fascinating lady who asked if she could steal my pizza while I was still inside.  Of course Eric said it wasn’t his.  We talked and laughed with her on the sidewalk until she walked on her way and we ate our food.  It’s nice eating on the sidewalk like this.

The sun came out while we were waiting for our pizza.  It was hot and nice when we came back to the apartment, and the plumber came and conquered the blocked drain.  Baby steps.  Loads of laundry running regular now.  We also got the call telling us our tickets for the concert this evening were secured.  We would leave to meet at Julien’s about seven.

21:04 Wednesday

Oh, those well laid plans of mice and men… we left the pad to climb in the car and head to the show in spite of the fact that it has started really raining.  There was thunder and lighting and the rain was coming down in buckets.

Eric’s car started having this issue recently were his alarm system stops, randomly, allowing the car starting.  “All this shit went wrong right before you got here; I’m sorry Jim”.  While Eric was fucking with the alarm (and I was writing in my notebook) we received a call announcing that the show was dead due to inclement weather.  (I so much prefer intimate weather.)

Gave up on the alarm and walked back to the homestead.  Eric wanted to stay in but I was hoping to spend at least a little time out where there might be girls.  I took a reconnaissance walk down Bonnefoy to find a place that might work.  The late night activity is really all downtown here.  The local pubs are geared toward the work day nips and dinner time supplements.

I found a place on the corner near the canal which stays open until midnight and looks like it has dancing.  No, I don’t dance; but girls do and you’ll remember that was the point.

Returned home full of useful information.  Nice change.  We ate some bread, some saucisse sèche, some more of that Médoc, and some cod livers from a tin (foie de morue gout fume; riche en oméga 3; Balthor).  Even in defeat we celebrate.

This radio station is still excellent company.  One song goes “he’s got barbed wire in his underpants” and “oh, mama!” and it’s followed by a reggae version of “A Whiter Shade of Pale”.  How can you argue with that?

“Let’s open this, Jim.  I really don’t feel like seeing people right now.  I want to get this shit fixed.”  So we opened a bottle of Les Compagnons du Château La Grave Béchade Côtes-de-Duras and I wrote this blog post while Eric did his taxes on-line.

We’ll try for some excitement tomorrow.  We should be leaving for Orleans Friday morning.  In the meantime we are going to attempt getting the electronic alarm problem fixed and there is also an electrical problem in the apartment (which was anticipated).  “Tomorrow will be an electrical day, Jimbo!”.

Problem solvers are we.


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