The absolute best way for me to wonder the streets (shops) of Aix-en-Provence without the dreaded huff and puff of The Husband in my ears is to keep him occupied. And what’s the best way to keep him occupied (
besides food)? With his new man crush, Mr. London.
We met Mr. & Mrs. London in Aix last week for an afternoon (hour drive for them, hour drive for us, the perfect meet in the middle), and as soon as we said hello, Mrs.London and I went our way, and The Husband and Mr.London went theirs.
First stop; Sephora for some summer nail polish. And let it be said, Mrs.London is way better at picking out nail polish colors than The Husband.
From Sephora we were only a hop, skip, and barely a jump from my friend, Zara, so it would have been rude not to pop in for a quick looksy. As in, looksy what I got…
Are they jeans, are they pants? I don’t really care, they’re fabulous.
And take a look at the shoes Mrs.London picked up…
You know what she said when she saw them, “I don’t know if they’re high enough” (she’s a girl after my own heart, my cousin is), but I told her not to be silly, of course they were. For the record I would have loved to have bought the very same shoe but 1. I live in The LPV, so let’s be realistic, and 2. I’m not a WAG, thanks to a shattered ankle anyway (that would be The Husband’s, not mine).Â
Since we’re punctual, we quickly abandoned our shopping to meet the boys for lunch, who it turns out are not so punctual, so we waited, and because the waiters chose to ignore us, we waited without l’apéro, so we had to occupy ourselves with some people watching… mainly the sweet old man dining alone at the table next to ours. He couldn’t figure out how to work his cell phone. Bless. Although he had no problem finding the volume button… loudest. ringtone. ever.Â
When The Husband and Mr. London finally showed up, they both ordered the all you can eat Beef Carpaccio (of course they did) and got to work while Mrs. London and I looked on in awe. But there was something wrong, it was like  The Husband had lost his mojo. Both him and Mr. London only had five plates and they kept saying how full they were… it just didn’t make sense… until I found out that they had been sampling pints of Guinness at all the different Irish pubs in Aix. So I guess that’s what they do when we shop, mystery solved. (And isn’t it funny how no matter what city you are in, all the world over, you can always find an Irish pub? It’s something to ponder).Â
Soon it was time to say goodbye, but we didn’t really, only à bientôt instead because we planned to visit them over the weekend to watch Mr.London play rugby, and have a BBQ, and that was the plan, but as it turned out, we should have said goodbye and not à bientôt after all, because The Husband ended up having to work over the weekend (work schmirk) so we missed Mr.London’s match. But you know who didn’t miss Mr.London’s match? Prince Albert. Allow me to repeat myself… PRINCE ALBERT of MONACO was there and I wasn’t.
bisou
It's Me, Sara Louise 
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