Thank you to everyone who took the time to vote for me in the Expat Blog Awards. Thanks to you, Sara in Le Petit Village was awarded with the Bronze!
And thank you for reading and commenting. Each and everyone of you make me very happy indeed.(For a complete list of the winners, click here. They are all very talented bloggers and most definitely worth the read.)
Oh boy oh boy oh boy, what a perfect weekend that was.
(I hope yours was good too because mine was almost as perfect as perfect can be.)
The perfect goodness started on Friday night when my mom made the most delicious salmon swimming in a creamy wine sauce that was pure heaven (having your mom cook for you is always such a treat), followed by the season finale of Downton (I’d seen it, my mom had seen it, but The Husband hadn’t seen it and am I really going to complain about watching that cutie Branson twice? No, the answer is no). And then after a night of sweet full belly dreams of English Manors, we woke up and hit the road to Toulon.
We arrived a little after lunchtime, and with the whole day stretching before us, our only plan was for a little R&R… Rugby and Raclette.
The rugby kicked off with Toulouse vs. Ospreys (that to be honest, we didn’t pay much attention to, sorry Toulouse and Ospreys), warming us up for the match of the day… Clermont vs. Leinster… The Husband’s home team vs. mine. This match is always a big deal in our house but does tend to turn me into a bit of a schizo. Leinster is my team, the first team that I followed, so without question, they’re my boys. But as much as I fell in love with The Husband, I fell in love with ASM Clermont too… RoRo, Morgan, Cudmore, and Pierre all have a teeny piece of my heart so watching my old boys play against my new boys tears me up something fierce.
Well my new boys beat my old boys but that’s OK, since last year my old boys won the Heineken Cup (and kicked my new boys out during the semi-finals), so this year it’s my new boys’ turn.
Rugby over, it was time for the next perfect part of the day… Le Raclette. I was so excited, not only had my mother never had it, but Mr &Mrs London hadn’t either, and they were full of questions about how they should do it. Well that’s the marvelous thing about Raclette, there is no wrong way to do it. All that matters is you get that cheesy melted goodness on your plate and you’re good to go. Bon Appétit!
The perfect day of R&R was finished off with a round of Phase 10 (I lost) and then some Scatagories (I won).
P E R F E C T
The sun was shining and shimmering off the sea as we walked along the port of Toulon Sunday afternoon. Mr. London had already gone to the stadium to prepare for his match against Sale Sharks, while we passed the time with a long lunch. We didn’t have a reservation but somehow still ended up with the most perfect banquette in the packed restaurant, a nice big comfy round one. We settled in with our Rosé and got started on lunch and Mrs. London caught us up on the gossip…
One tidbit was the best, most salacious piece of gossip I’ve heard in ages. And as you know, The Husband loves a bit of scandal. I actually thought his head was going to burst right open he was smiling so wide as he leaned in to Mrs. London soaking up each and every word she uttered. It was that scandalous. (Unfortunately passing on this juicy piece of information wouldn’t be very ladylike of me, so my lips are sealed… but just trust me…. it was royally good. Did you catch that hint?).
And after the perfect lunch of moules marinière avec des frites, blinis au saumon fumé, salade césar au poulet, crème brûlée, café gourmand et Rosé (beaucoup) we walked across to Stade Mayol to watch Mr. London do his thing, and boy did he.
Not only was it perfect because one of Toulon’s nine tries belonged to Mr. London (my mother did tell him that morning that he would score one by the way), but he was named Man of the Match to boot. How’s that for perfect?
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