This particular Saturday was a special one; The Lions were playing the Wallabies (Rugby of course… the Lions are a team made up of the best players from England, Ireland, Scotland, and Wales, and the Wallabies are the Australian national team), so that was the boys sorted, and les soldes were on (for those that don’t know, sales in France only happen twice a year; in the winter, and in the summer, so when they’re on, all hell-o-operator breaks loose), so that was us sorted.
It was 11 when we arrived. I had wanted to get there at 10 to have time to peruse the shops before the chaos commenced, but The Husband dragged his feet (this is what he does… if I say I want to leave earlier than planned, he says OK, but then deliberately takes his time getting ready so we end up leaving close to the later time… he can act like he doesn’t do this on purpose but I know he does).
When we got there, we found Mr & Mrs London plus Mr. London’s baby brother waiting at the fountain outside the pub. The pub said they weren’t opening for another twenty minutes. Now the smart thing for the guys to do would have been to find a nearby cafe, have a coffee and wait the twenty minutes, but since that would have been the smart thing, they didn’t. Instead they went off in the 32ºC/ 90ºF heat, in search of another pub that would be showing that match and that was opened. Mrs. London and I went off in search of bargains.
Each store was so jammed, and it was so hot that we decided that shopping was a no go. A place in the shade with a chilled glass of pink was a much better option. (However in one of the jam-packed shops, I found an olive green handbag that I just had to have; originally €40 marked down to €12! WINNER WINNER CHICKEN DINNER! So I didn’t leave les soldes completely empty handed… that would have been wrong.)
We found the boys in the pub they had originally been waiting outside of. They had walked all around Aix, in the blaring heat, only to come back to where they started. Yeah, that sounds about right.
Now since they are boys, and they’re in a pub, watching rugby, you’d think they were drinking beer, right? Not our boys. They were drinking Betty Boops; a champagne, manzana (apple schnapps), watermelon juice and pear juice cocktail… well la-di-da.
We left them to their little umbrella cocktails and went in search of sustenance. And by sustenance I mean tapas. And Rosé. Let’s not forget the Rosé. But there was one thing we weren’t counting on, finding the tapas and Rosé in the hottest spot in Aix. I swear it was like sitting on the sun.
I mean look at that tapas plate… it’s glowing red it’s so hot! (OK, maybe it’s not glowing red because of the heat and instead it’s taken on a red hue from the light shining through the red canopy we were sitting under but still, it was hot. Being trapped under that canopy was sheer torture).
Put it this way… it was so hot I couldn’t even drink my Rosé. I COULDN’T DRINK MY WINE. That’s crazy hot.
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