Yesterday after a beautiful day out in France, my mother and her husband dropped myself and Rico in the tiny little quaint village, we decided to go for 1 beer, then a walk back down the river in time for tea, and make my contribution of spicy parsnip soup.
Did things go as planned…
We approached a small and cute looking Bar, the door was locked, but then a lady came out to let us in. A bar full of cats, inside it still looked closed, yet somehow we were welcomed in.
We then went on to attempt in a mix of School French and English as to which beers they served.
I’m not really an expert when it comes to beers, so I left the decision making to Rico.
The man at the bar was also explaining something about the beers, saying this one is 8 degrees and this one is 10 degrees.
Extremely peculiar I thought, beers at different temperatures, how little I know, and also wow is this going to be warm beer? It all seemed very advanced for this tiny little bar.
2 Delerium Christmas beers we ordered, it was dark and cold ( the beer ) and somewhat tasty. We sat in the front porch area together with the cats, cats, and beer an excellent combination.
Within a short while, halfway down my glass, I started to feel somewhat tipsy.
We ordered one more but moved into the central bar area where the lady blasted a gas heater in my direction, I knew this would lead to me feeling even tipsier, now I don’t know why, but heat and alcohol do not mix for me.
We chatted and got into deep conversations about consciousness, very deep indeed…
I decided 2 beers was enough, let’s head back to mums make the soup and have tea.
To put it frank in simple words I was DRUNK.
On the way home Rico explained to me about the strengths of the beers, and it clicked, a spark lit up in my head, and I understood finally, the man at the Bar was not on about the temperature of the beer but the strength.
I now understand why I felt like I did.
Lesson learned, I really do need to improve my French and they do not make beers at different temperatures or do they?
Lots of love