We walked along a street shouldered by sex and döner shops. We stopped to drink cafés in cups the size of thimbles. We entered Le Fiacre, a legendary venue and met the three members of Met.H.ode, the trip hop band and Miss Rock the booker, a girl who likes to party, works very hard and has a big heart.
Carrot quiche, salad, local wine, conversations about French hip hop and La Haine…
The sound was wonderful, the crowd was really fun and after the show, we all went back to Miss Rock’s house.
We drank bottle after bottle of vodka, ordered from a delivery service and the night faded into day. The sun was shining and we were still drinking. It was 10am and the room was spinning. I upchucked once….twice….thrice and went to sleep.
We got up in time for dinner at La Taupinière with Miss Rock and her boyfriend. We ate duck hearts for the first time (which give one magical duck powers) and glass after glass after glass of Irish coffee. We got hyper. We got silly.
We went to a concert, then to a bar to meet more of Miss Rock’s friends. But when someone decided to order delivery vodka, I had to call it a night. I couldn’t look the bottle in the eye without getting queasy. So I distracted myself by cuddling Miss Rock’s pet rat, Chat.
After 3 nights of no sleep, we wandered Bordeaux looking (and smelling) like zombies.
Le mirroir, chocolatines, les jardins botaniques, deux petits cafés…
We met more of Miss Rock’s friends, drank beer but forced ourselves to leave before the night blurred away.
That’s when we walked through a closet and into Narnia… our couchsurfing host’s house. An immense, white stone staircase, a grand piano, grilled duck thighs, strawberries, whipped cream, cheeses, almond cakes and, bien sûr, wine.
Sleep. Shower. And a gracious lift to the airport. On to the next shows in Belgium.