Sunday, 30 January 2011
French bars
I guess that the only thing that I miss with London is its pubs, which is not something that you can find in France outside the major cities. Growing up in Sweden during the 80s meant that a pub was a place where alcoholics and losers met up, but no normal people. No-one spent a Friday night in a pub unless you were really, really desperate. This all changed during the 90s when Irish pubs and better drinking establishments started to pop up and it was actually quite nice to hang out there. So living in London it naturally grew on you even more, the habit of going out for beers, or as we called it during workdays, "lunch". So living in France nowdays, there are times when you get the urge, and today was one of those days. You wake up, it's gray and cold outside and you have nothing better to do. Well, you have, but you don't feel inclined to do anything else. Our closest local is what the pubs in Sweden looked like in the 80s, and it's actually quite general for the rest of France, meaning it looks like somebody's living room. My problem with that is that the person who owns that living room has no eye for design or decoration. It's white walls, cold lightning and a distinct lack of atmosphere. But oh! theres a TV in the corner, which really makes it a whole lot better, no? So knowing that we drove to one of the villages surrounding us, and we actually managed to find a place that was open (Sundays are Closed! day in France), which actually wasn't too bad design wise (nice dark wood bar, but still hospital green walls) and it was quite full of people who managed to hide their alcoholism quite OK. As you can see our standards have sunk quite a bit, but once you do realise that you will never find a cosy pub with an open fire populated by trendy young professionals, you have to do with what you find. So we did have a very good time and now it's time for a sallad with thin slices of beef from Friday's steaks and then it's time to paint again.
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