Wednesday 6th November 2024

I have to remind myself on a regular basis, that I'm here for work.

As Fabian had dropped my off the evening before, he said he would collect me this morning so I didn't have to drive, meaning I could lay in bed until seven, get up, have a shower then get dressed, before walking the twenty five steps past reception to the breakfast room.

That 55 euros a night gets you a double room, en suite with breakfast is remarkable, that you are behind a chain fence is another matter.

Choice was limited, and the news playing on the large TV was of Trump's victory in the election.

I ignored it and ate, drank two coffees, and went to wait for a text to say Fabian had arrived.

He did at quarter past eight, and a short blast down the non-motorway dual carriageway to Rethel.

Rethel is a large interesting looking town, but despite having a fine range of bars and restaurants, has no hotels, which is why we stayed 50km away in Reims.

Through the town, over the railway to a small street on an industrial estate, and there was the office and warehouse.

In we go.

After a good morning work, we are taken by the manager to a fine restaurant down by the canal, where half the town were also eating in, but we had a table, and after looking at the fine menu, I had camembert bake, which I thought would come with some bread for dipping.

No, it came with three baked potatoes, a selection of cured meats and salamis along with a full salad.

I thought I had chosen something small.

But it was delicious, all other items on the plate were made better by dipping in molten cheese..

Back to the office for some ad hoc training i had been asked to do, and we were done.

Vanessa, the manager, suggested we go to see a windmill as I was a photographer, so the destination was set, and we drove 40 minutes to the other side of the city to a village in the middle of the finest Champagne vineyards.

We drove through the village, packed with houses and warehouses of the grande Champagne Houses, up to the windmill, and after parking, we saw in the fast fading light, Champagne vines as far as the horizon.

Some 40 years ago, I was stuffing chicken giblets, and here I was surrounded by Champagne.

Its been quite the ride.

A little further along is a lighthouse, though the museum underneath closed for the day, and the tower was shrouded in scaffolding. From its foot, there was yet more Champagne.

Fabian drove us back to the city, to a street lined with bars and restaurants, all brightly lit by neon signs, and after parking we headed to an Irish pub for a tripel I hadn't heard of before, while we watched some rugby on the large screen TV.

We went next door for dinner, it was recommended by Vanessa again. I had Iberian pork with some kind of creamy sauce and fries, while Fabian had a blue local steak. That was followed by, for me, a Special Coffee, which came with four small desserts and an espresso.

We rounded the meal off with a glass of Ratafia Champenois each, a liqueur made of Champagne grape must. The waiter made a great show of using a huge syringe-like device to decant the spirit from the 2 litre bottle into extravagant wine glasses.

Damn, that was some fine eatin and drinkin. And counts as work, for the most part.

Finally, Fabian drove me back home through the brightly lit city to the compound out in the ghetto.

Safe as milk.