
I spent last week in the gastronomic capital of the world, Lyons, where amongst the many delicacies that I ate was one that some 50 years earlier I said I would never ever eat again.
Over the years I have put many things in my mouth, some cooked, some raw, mostly dead though the odd thing that was still alive, also a couple of things that are best forgotten though someone once said, “You should try everything once except incest and Morris dancing.”
Back in November 1973 I spent my honeymoon, with my wife of course, in Paris where one day we found ourselves in the Samaritaine department store, I remember buying some striped socks. However, our visit coincided with lunchtime, and we found ourselves in the restaurant on the rooftop terrace with fabulous views across the City of Lights.
Continue reading “the pink shoes get gassed”