Blue skies, lovely weekend, weather wise. A Saturday saunter out for lunch at a riverside café and a walk through the park to purchase floral decoration for the windows. Geraniums duly potted and installed outside the front windows. Lovely.
Sunday, skies still blue, saunter out to the pub, stomp home in a blue funk. Never in the history of personal Goonerdom have I been so p*ssed off by an Arsenal performance. Attempted to walk off the anger by climbing the steps from Passage Gonin and taking a meandering route home through the Croix Rousse. Only really successful following lovely meal cooked by la bienheureuse, a stiff gin-tonique and a couple of glasses of wine.
Meanwhile, the infamous ash cloud and train strikes have thrown la bienheureuse's business travel plans this week into disarray. A flight to Allemagne on Monday morning was predictably canceled, but a train ticket to Bruxelles from Lyon for the second leg of the trip was successfully booked yesterday to replace the original one from Köln. However, this morning she learned that the train this evening has been canceled due to a rail strike in France that is now almost into its third week. Most of the regional union committees have voted to resume work, but not the one in the south east, which includes Lyon. Ho hum, there was me feeling smug because for once I decided to go by train to London for Saturday's late afternoon game. Ever the sucker for punishment. Still, at least it means ma bien-aimée spends the whole week in Lyon.
