It is some years later. La Femme has been bounced around the world for a while by her employer, and has returned home for a significant birthday. Rather than having a do at home she has invited kith and kin to a restaurant for dinner.
She and I are driven by mum and dad.
The appointed place, near Cambes, specialises in local products, and our single long table is on a pier, which juts out into the Garonne. About 14 of us are installed. Nibbles and champagne cocktails are followed by melon halves, which have had a slug of cognac in them for eight hours. There are two bottles of white and two of red on the table that are continuously being replaced when empty by our own private waiter.
Lobster kicks off the proceedings (yuk!) but I have some paté with toast. Next comes a fine filigree “nest” of cheesy thing and salad, then an assortment of cold sausages.
A gorgeous salad of potatoes and other local stuff is next. The restaurant’s home made steak haché with ratatouille, more green salad and the inevitable frites follow up.
A formidable array of cheeses follow, and (grace a dieu) one is edible.
After a short break, the sweet trolley is wheeled in complete with 4 bottles of local “pudding” wine.
We have been at it for around three hours when la Femme heads off to the restaurant with enormous cheque book. When she returns, she is accompanied by the manager who makes a little speech and presents a “birthday” present of a bottle each of cognac and armagnac. Waiter appears on cue with new glasses.
Brother-in-law organises some cigars. It has been a hard day’s night.
Multitudinous cross-farewells and kissing take forever and then I spot mum and dad with elder sister and brother-in-law driving off. Seems they are going straight to the coastal holiday home for a few days. Others disperse gradually until only myself, la Femme, other sister and younger brother remain.
We are to use brother-in-law’s BMW (which is going in for a service on Monday), and……..did you guess dear readers?
The keys came my way. Thought I might have learnt by now.

How many units?

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mel

There weren't any "units" in pre-cambrian Aquitaine, but in today's terms I would think (oh m***e) 40 - 50 perhaps. It was a lonnnngggg evening.

Also, drink drive limits were for pansies in those days in France. The French for pansy appears to be pensée. How sweet.

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mel

Ahh yes, now I know why I said, I'd got a pensée Whine Advisor at STWC.

He phoned yesterday to say that a £10 voucher was on the way as order for CB'09 and Servin 1er Chab missed missed the new year bash.

I respect that attention to detail.

Ba - I dont know if I can find the charming La Femme on the web again, without massive search. As for the drink drive rules at the time, I dont think there were any rules, unless the Gendarme (spelling) caught you after a dangerous driving accident, wreckless speed etcetera involving personal injury.

The Town Mayors were in charge back then. all the locals would wend their way back after a Big Do in the Town........Same in Spain after a Fiesta or any particular event........ I know that for sure.

In rural France back then, you could drive for 15 minutes and not see another car during the day. Driving through to Quimper one year, late at night, I saw no cars for miles and miles after 11:00pm.
It's still very different from the UK.

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Duncan

Pensée is indeed a pansy, but of the Picardy variety. The wimps to which you refer are pédés.

No, I was looking for the flower. Wrongly, as it happens, but I felt I ought to know the name for the flower. Thinking in a haphazard way.

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mel