The morning after the night before

We woke the next morning a little shell-shocked from the happenings of the night before.

I was due in the big town for my hair cutting in the afternoon so after a shower and the like we headed for coffee in the village first. As soon as we walked into the bar we were greeted by Cap Man clearly a little embarrassed by his behaviour the night before. I just said “Je t’aime” trying to carry on the laugh from the night before. He explained he had a bad head and my husband sat next to him and they formed a peace of sorts I think.

Bully Boy was also in so we just had one cuppa and left.

We headed to the supermarket where there is a great brasserie. We had bags of time before my appointment so we treated ourselves to a 3 course lunch. We arrived at about 11.55am and after initially looking askance they let us in. It became clear that 12 as ever is the important time for lunch. We had a long leisurely lunch with eggs mimosa, terrine, lovely roast meat and chocolate mousse to finish. It is still such a shock when you go to pay and it is less than a third of what a similar meal would cost back in the UK.

I was anxious about my first hair cut in France so walked back and forth a bit but eventually went in explaining that I spoke little French. I don’t like to over-use this as I do speak French to an extent but it is a helpful thing to say for starters sometimes.

I was seated and then put in an apron thing and then had a lovely shampoo and conditioning session. The hairdresser asked how I wanted my hair which I could explain and then she showed me a couple of options in a book until I found exactly what I wanted, a very short cut which is easy to manage and I think shows off my face better. The cut took about 50 minutes to do and it was so nice to see me returning in the mirror even if the grey was very much in evidence. Now I feel comfy, I will probably return to have a colour put in at some point.

We returned to the village and called at another bar where our train driver friend told us the trouble with the Cap Man was not finished as far as he was concerned. There is clearly a code of sorts in the village and their is much disapproval when it is broken. We explained as far as we were concerned everything was now OK.

We saw Yorkshire Terrier man and gave him a harness for his dog having bought one way too small for our Beagle. He came over and was waxing lyrical about how “jolie” I looked with my new hair-cut. He then pointed out he had his done that day too but told my husband his was “trop Anglais”

I will close for now but you can bet the next post will be yet more insanity in the bars.

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