Monday, January 15, 2007

A Long Night in Lyon

An "anonymous" person (not so anonymous really thanks to the magic of site meters) recently commented on the "fact" that I am always drunk, and apparently slutty, therefore must be a trashy bitch. While I've had trouble with similarly "anonymous", albeit different, people in the past (women and men no doubt), I can not disagree with this new person. In fact, it makes a great intro to my next post:

Getting drunk in Lyon!

So after all of our adventures traipsing around Lyon that day, Cat and Chris had made plans for a fun night out. The Wallace...again, plus reservations at a restaurant that they had been craving all day.

The Wallace was our first stop, if only for an apertif or two...or three. The pub was already crowded, but surprisingly it was full of teenagers. The bar was a popular haunt for teens after school, made more popular by the fact that you can be 16 and drink in France. What amazed me was how well-behaved the kids were, sipping their beers and wine and having fairly intellectual conversations. Of course I drank when I was 16 too, but if we had been "allowed" to from such an age, I bet the alcohol abuse would have been a lot lower. By having a lower drinking age, these kids in the bar were taught how to drink responsibly, thus taking out an "illicit thrills" they may have gotten if it was all taboo and illegal.

Back again

The restaurant was located in "New" Lyon, which meant a semi-long trek through the streets of the city. Thanks to my comfy new pirate hooker boots and the amazing sights, the walk didn't seem that long. Oh and I'm sure the "beer" jacket helped as well.

Along the way we passed by a square which houses the Opera House. Posed stoicly in the middle of the square is a statue of a chariot, driven by racing steeds. The statue was beautifully lit and sculpted by the same guy who did the Statue of Liberty.

On closer look though, the horses seemed a bit more, erm, equipped? Glad that all the horses I've ridden don't have those horseshoes (though my old horse would have loved to get her wicked hoofs on a pair).

We finally reached the restaurant, which was perched on top of a hill (many hills in Lyon). It was a nice, "hidden treasure" sort of a place, which had an unassuming cafe/bar on the bottom. But if you looked a little further...and walked through the kitchen and up the steepest, rickitiest stairs you've ever'll find the cutest dining room...

...with the nicest view, even in the dark of night, that looks out over the city and the other river in Lyon, the River Rhône (a major shipping artery that runs through Switzerland and France).

We started off the meal with an aperitif (yes...again) of Planter's Punch, followed by a Red Martini. And a bottle of wine. Or two. See, we didn't want to order food yet since a French couple, friends of Cat and Chris, were coming to join us, so we couldn't do much but order more wine and snack on a tasty appetizer of goat cheese. I'm not a fan of goat cheese by any means, but this fresh, gooey, warm melted goat cheese was deliciously mild and incredible spread on chewy, nutty bread. Sigh.

Sooner or later, the couple came and joined us and we dug into our meals of venison, duck and...and...dammnit, I can't remember what I ate! Too much wine at this point.

What I do remember was capping off the night with a delicious Creme Caramel (can't resist) and a generous toast with Chesnut liquer. The French sure love their Marrons (chesnuts), eaten roasted on the street, or blended with vanilla, or crammed into squishy pastries...this liquer, was sweet, heavenly and divine. But like the gorgeous Lemoncello I forgot to bring back from Italy, I forgot to smuggle a bottle of this stuff back from France. Sigh. Now I've gotta find a place in Vancouver that sells macarons AND Chesnut Liquer.

After we were considerably full and slightly soused, we walked back to...The Wallace. Yes, we had already been there twice that day, but by now it was absolutely heaving with hard-partying expats and locals alike. And then there was us, who didn't need to drink much to catch up.

Soon the dancing started, which Cat eagerly jumped into, as she flitted around the pub and talked to absolutely everybody. It seemed that the Wallace was a very small world indeed.

As for me, I did the most inane thing ever, the type of thing that when I explained it to my friend Leanne, she exclaimed, "I thought that kind of thing only happened in movies."

Yes, well sometimes I think my life should be a movie. Case in point:

I went upstairs to use the bathroom since the one downstairs meant you had to walk through the urinal. Yes, the urinal was pretty much in an alcove, wide open to the bar for all to see in wee wee glory, and the door to the stall was on the other side. Not wanting to impose on the peeing individuals, I went up the staircase to the open lounge up top.

Here was a similar set-up but with the sink open to the lounge, instead of urinals. Which meant that while you washed your hands, people in the lounge had a clear view of you. Which is what happened to me. I looked up in the mirror and could see people staring at me from behind. A bunch of guys were sitting on the couches and one or two of them kept looking my way.

As in trying to get my attention. I purposely averted my eyes from meeting theirs and kept washing my hands.

After I was done, I quickly walked past him, nose up, while one guy started to say something to me.

The nerve of these French guys, I thought to myself, so forward.

I was half-way down the stairs when I noticed I felt a little...breezy.

I put my hand to my skirt and realized I had tucked the entire back part of my skirt into my thong. No wonder the guys wanted to talk to me, they wanted to tell me that I was flashing everyone in the bar!

Mortified, I pulled my skirt out, covered my poor, exposed ass and avoided the upstairs for the rest of the night. Ross of course, thought this was all too funny.

Slightly Em-BARE ASSED?

Luckily we all had a few more drinks and I forgot all about it.

Until later as we were leaving and a French guy gestured to my bum with his buddy and laughed. And laughed...and laughed.

Sigh. Talk about making an ass of yourself.

Today was an oddly productive day in which I spent money I seriously can not afford to spend...all because I'm on my no-sugar, low-GI health-kick (I refuse to call it a diet), everything is so bloody expensive. Not to mention it was Capers, an organic market that charges you an arm and a leg and a torso. Why does eating well have to cost so much?

I felt pretty adventurous in the store though, especially after watching Nigella Feasts last night in which she made an "antioxidant salad." If eating the healthy stuff can make me looks as radiant and glowing as Nigella, then I am all for it.

Antioxidant Salad: Chop up mangoes, empty out a pomengranate, top with blueberries and a dash of lime juice.

I, of course, forgot to get the blueberries (I was so enraptured by the pomengrantes, I've never had one aside from the juice that's oh-so trendy can fruit be fashionable?), but I'm sure a box of blackberries I got from the market for 99 cents (wooot one bargain) will make a good substitute.

I haven't made it yet but I'll let you know how it turns out. Then continuing my culinary adventure, I bought a Watermelon Radish. It's green with a pink inside and is quite sweet...still a radish though. I wanted to be blown out of this world by a radish/watermelon hybrid but it wasn't to be. I was slightly dissapointed. As I was with my Young Coconut.

Now, I thought I was buying a ready-to-eat coconut but I don't what to do with it. It may not have its shell, but it's hard as a rock and I have no idea how to get into there even anything in there? So until someone kindly tells me how to get to the sweet sweet coconutyness, it's gonna sit in my fridge next to the Organic Valencia Peanut Butter and Organic Spinach Feta Hummus.

In other non-organic news, I have the new Damien Rice CD. I don't know if it's as good as "O" but it's certainly up there. Although there is one song in which he screams "Fuck you!" over and over again...and somehow makes it sound like poetry.

Oh yes, and the Golden Globes are on tonight. In some ways I actually prefer the Golden Globes since the actors and presenters get to drink at their table all night and by the time they get on the stage they are soused.

I bet Judi Dench is gonna get tanked.


M said...

I'm paranoid about the skirt into undies mistake! I don't have very good luck with skirts for some reason!

Indiana said...


Damn, some people have all the luck. ~grin~ I am feeling slightly jealous now. And where is the photo of the skirt in the g-string. ~lol~

Anonymous said...

Grr.... time zones... did I miss anything interesting?

Steph said...

Jebus! If those haters think you're an Alco, what the hell would they make of ME!!!

You're all class. Much like my good self :P

Anonymous said...

I've never understood what people get out of posting hateriffic comments.

I have mine set that I have to approve all comments. Pretty much anything that doesn't call me awesome in some way gets axed. ;)

I can't remember if your comments need approval. But, I'll find out... right... now...

Anonymous said...

I am just guessing here but I bed that you have a nice ass Wanderlust so even though it was embarassing at least they were admiring the view.
My ass on the other hand is to be shown in low light and only during a single person showing.
Anything more than that and people would be poking their eyes out with sticks.

Expat Traveler said...

I say live it up while you are young and still in your twenties because you either become more responsible or just lazier in your 30's and don't go out as much!

The drinking thing though, I totally agree, lowering the age would have less alcohol abuse. However remember in the states its the big 21!

What great pics for your night out! Ah the river rhone - also runs into Basel - a lovely place to live!

Wanderlusting said...

M - yeah I was paranoid about it I know why. I also have bad luck with the whole wind blowing it up too. Maybe I oughta start wearing pants.

Indiana - Ha, well they aren't that much fun. There's a difference between people who don't agree with you and people who go for the jugular just because. This latest person has been reading my blog religiously for the last 6 months or so, and is even a friend of a friend, and then suddenly BLAM! I'm a trashy bitch. Must have set them off someway...

Dan - hmmm. Not much...yet

Steph - Yeah, I think when they said trashy, they meant classy. At least I tell myself that.

Peter - Yes, but all positive comments all the time must get boring, no? I don't moderate mine and I don't even exclude anonymous comments...even though it's always the anonymous people that are haters, never anyone who wants to show themselves.

Rachel - Erm, I don't know about that.

Expat - the funny thing is, most of the time I DON'T go out. Ross and I just usually sit on his couch and don't move for days. But I guess when we DO go out, we go out with a BANG!

Kass said...

Obviously anybody that feels the need to comment anonymously about your "escapades" is lacking excitement and adventure in their own lives.

Lets pity them because thats all they deserve.

Do you know who it is?

Wanderlusting said...

Kass - No...I mean even though I love playing detective and I probably shouldn't be because it doesn't deserve all this recognition...but I just love to solve mysteries. I could easily find out though, all I have to do is ask my friend whom she thinks it is, set up a little trap perhaps? Can't tell if it's a guy or girl though, but I do know their IP and that they live in or around Vancouver. And yes, that comment would have been their 35th repeat visit to my blog (since November). And that they spent 3 hours reading it...dear me. This is what makes it so intriguing. Why, after reading my blog for so long, for so many times, for so many months, would you suddenly say something so dumb? They negelected to mention that I also like ice capades as well as sexual escapades...

Meanwhile what I would really like to figure out is why the hell it didn't snow last night when they said it was going to?

Kass said...

I know what you mean. I also know that you aren't doing it because it got to you (right? because we all know and love you, you trashy bitch lol) but because you're curious and want to blow their cover (thats why I'd do it anyway? lol) I would be tracking them too. What internet provider do they use? *scratches chin* I wonder if they'd been to my site (I use sitemeter too).. It sounds like its just a jealous and judgmental person, why visit so often? Why spend so long? Maybe to just work themselves up into a frenzy and make themselves feel more superior by judging you and what you do. I can think of some people that would fit that category.

What are you talking about you crazy bint? It DID snow, or at least it did in my neighbourhood??

Wanderlusting said...

Kass - well no it does't bother me because trashy bitch ain't really an insult. Those who know me...or actually even read my blog, know that I am far from promiscious, and that I'm so rarely called a bitch that I actually get excited and feel complimented when someone calls me one. Therefore, the "insult" is so unbelievable that it only proves that person did it out of sheer jealousy and frusteration.

Plus insinuating that I am drunk all the time is like telling Paris Hilton that she's a whore.

Oh and btw, in case you were wondering, they didn't come from your blog.

AND and It didn't snow here! Bah! I hate living downtown sometimes. Too close to the water thus no snow.

Vegas Princess said...

Uh, hello! You are on vacation and celebrating parties! That doesn't mean you sit at home drinking yourself into oblivion. People are just idiots and have no lives so they must make fun of your great one. Just rememebr for every ugly comment you get ten friendly ones. And I for one love your posts!

Ah, France, when all there si to do is eat, walk and drink. My kind of place.

almost famous kiwi said...

You got me Karina, it was me, I was the one who posted it. Yes, I flew to Vancouver and typed it up whilst sitting in a tree outside your apartment.
My god was I really on for three hours? I remember having that bottle of wine, followed by a 6 pack of beers, then I passed out and when I woke up and had my wake up margarita I must have lost track of the time.
It's amazing how time flys for a sad lonely anti-social creature. Oh well, at least I have your blog to live vicariously through.