I’ve posted before about the foibles of French restaurants which seem to follow a rhythm known only to themselves.
They usually advertise in big letters that they are open tous les jours (every day), and add in small letters underneath ‘apart from Monday, Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday’. They never open for dinner before 7pm and they randomly close at lunchtime. There is at least one pizzeria that doesn’t serve pizza.
While we were on holiday we discovered a new phenomena. The restaurant that is open, but doesn’t serve food. It was on the evening of The Big Walk. We’d come back and we were knackered. It was 7.30pm and the supermarket was closed; worse, the bar was also closed. So after a quick shower and change we headed out to the little restaurant in the village which we knew would be open because we’d gone there on Friday to buy pizza and asked. It was open – there was a nice young man sitting at a table eating and chatting to a lady behind the counter who was presumably the chef.
We asked for a table for two, only to be told that the kitchen was closed and no more food would be served. We joined in the joke by saying we’d had a long day in the mountains, the supermarket was closed, we were staying in the campsite and had no food in the chalet etc. But it was no joke and the kitchen was not opening. No matter how hungry we were. At this point the nice young man (sitting at a table eating remember) became concerned. He was also staying in the campsite and said we were welcome to have what food he had in his tent. Hah! We smiled and declined his gracious offer while staring daggers at the witch behind the counter who would see us starve rather than make us a cheese sandwich.
Song of the day
I said yesterday this time of year is my favourite. Cheesy I know, but like Justin Hayward, I wish it was Forever Autumn 🙂