Tags: party


Au coeur du Lyon?

We are all, I suppose, getting older. But I, as you may know, am an ageing baggage whose skirts are occasionally Too Short and who will insist on dyeing her hair. (Right now I'm brunette. I felt like a change.) It seems that while I get older in body, I remain frivolous at core (well, at part of my core, anyway).
And in oh-help-just-over-a-week, I have a landmark birthday. A birthday, indeed, that my PhD supervisor once informed me was the beginning of old age. I seem to remember saying 'Bah humbug' to that at the time, and I still think it. But all the same...
The marquis, who as we know is wonderful in almost every possible respect, decided that I should have some kind of special celebration. So he's taking me to Lyon for a long weekend with flowers and champagne and traboules.
Being me, I am particularly excited about the traboules. I've spent the night in Lyon twice, but on neither occasion was there time or opportunity to see the city. I've wanted to see it for many years, since that first visit when I was 14 or 15. And now I'm getting to go. (Eurostar permitting. Those of you who know me well will know I'm a claustrophobe and I'm particularly antsy about tunnels. They catch fire. I know this. I told them so in advance.) We're off tomorrow morning and back late on Sunday. I am taking my posh dress and high heels and, yes, the laptop, because I have a deadline.
I am so looking forward to this. Because, you know, traboules. (And Roman remains and architecture ranging from the 12th to the 19th c. and silk weaving and, well, traboules. Yes, I am a bit fixated on those traboules. I've seen them elsewhere, but these are the really famous ones.)

This means that this year we are not having our usual summer party. (Various people have asked.) We are hoping to have one in the autumn, work permitting.

Skirt of the day: long burgundy silky.