The other side of the tracks

Damn and blast! Wasted an opportunity last week. We had the perfect "Hello" scenario ie looking after a million euro pad in the centre of Lille we could have passed off as being ours. Peter and Max at home. It could have made the perfect chez nous story. Loft living urban, regeneration, forays to the shops, walks around roads and areas otherwise only driven through. Hermès headscarves and toypoodles tucked into Louis Vuitton poochbags as we teetered around le Vieux Lille checking out the designer shops. Oh well! Back to the other side of the railway tracks - literally - and reality.
BTW yes that is a dead cow sprawled on the floor...and one more thing, it only just struck me why the french version of Big Brother was called Loft Story. Yes, being a bit slow here. It wasn't because the fascinating daily interchanges played out in a loft - oh no sirree - 'twas a play on words or rather because of the way the French automatically pronounce "love" as "lowv" not "luv". Geddit? Yes, Love Story! Going for a lie down...

Tripping. The light - fantastic!

A week ago yesterday was one of those balmy evenings we have been dreaming about but till now have yet to experience this year. And what better for a sultry soirée than a spot of argentinian tango in the Vieille Bourse next to the Grand' Place in the centre of Lille? There is something completely seductive about tango: something that merges control with passion, chill with chili! Somehow we found ourselves lingering for an hour and a half mesmerised by the sight of maybe 30 couples as they moved across the dance floor.

Then yesterday we went for second helpings. The evening not so balmy indeed it was drizzling yet the dancers were still a-strutting their stuff across the rather damp exterior dancefloor. Some went barefoot to avoid mishap. This time I got photos! I overheard a Brit moaning that there is no culture in the UK. Something of an exaggeration but certainly the dance and the venue are something very special.