SNCF PIS LIL 0728 1040

We checked out altogether too early and toddled over to the
station, where Bonnie got a croissant but complained
bitterly when she couldn't get coffee, which in the
inimitable French style you have to get at the fast-food
place next door, where you stand in line to buy a token
and then stand in line to put the token in a machine that
makes your cuppa.

I knew enough to independently find and consult the map
of the train, so we got in our right seats the first time.

The ride was uneventful although pretty warm. We got to
our stop almost on time.

Lille is a pretty impressive little city, and I'd go back.

We alit at Lille-Flandres station, and our bus as to leave
from Lille-Europe, the two stations separated by a few
hundred meters and a shopping mall which we thought we could
get across. Well, it's a possibility, but not a practical
one. Further, Bonnie was convinced that the mall was the
station, a forgivable error, because it looks just like an
airport terminal only bigger. Eventually we found our way
outside and across the way to the Lille-Europe left luggage,
where we stored our stuff, which left us free to explore the
city, which is pleasant and civilized and full of Michelin-
starred and plated and bibbed places, all of which were
closed for vacation, worse luck.

We ended up at Le Morisson, because Bonnie was tired and cranky,
and the place was full but not packed, so we could get seated
right away. I was put off by the smell of the place, somewhat
mildewy with a bit of eau de old meat, but we were here, so
we were here. There was a decent smell behind it all, so I
figured it was the carbonnades a la flamande, so I ordered
that. They'd just sold the last serving, so I went in the
opposite direction, toward maximum risk, and got the tartare.
Guess what. It was ground in a shockingly unclassical way
and looked like a trayful of supermarket burger. But guess
what also - it smelled good and was ground just within the
time we were seated. It was also really fresh meat, a little
fattier than is generally considered ideal for the dish, which
meant that I liked it. It came with minced red onion, minced
capers, and various other condiments, all of high quality. Also
an egg yolk, which was perfectly fine and probably laid within
a day or two. The food was very good, all told. Bonnie more
cautiously got quiche lorraine, a monster serving, which she
wolfed down, giving me just the tiniest taste at the last
moment. It was pretty good, too much nutmeg I thought.

I had a Kasteel red ale, which as it turns out wasn't what
we think of as a red ale but in fact was a quite sweet-acid
cherry-flavored high-alcohol beer. I should have remembered
that we were in Wallonia within 10 miles of Belgium, so all
the beer was Belgian-style; I should have had wine instead.

Off to the Palais des Beaux-Arts, which has a significant
collection of northern French and Flemish works, including
lots of stuff by Watteau de Lille, who was either the brother
or the nephew of the famous Watteau de someplace else, producer
of pastoral scenes that are almost indistinguishable. The
Flemish influence of the collection can be seen in the
presence of Rubens and Van Dyck as well as Francken and
Jourdaens and other such. For me the highlights were a Picasso
portrait and a Sonia Delaunay abstract, but then I can't see
that well any more. My total favorite, though, was a madonna
and child in the basement, not particularly well lit, not
labeled, that to my tired old eyes looked like a Memling.

At closing time we headed back to the station area, but not
wanting to put money into the hands of the mall, plus the
offerings being unspeakably dull, along the lines of Burger
King and Starbuck's, we figured there would be a bar in the
casino opposite the train station, which there was, called
La Barriere. I got a weird beer whose name I forget and
Bonnie a glass of what was supposed to be Ch. Haut Lartigue 11
but I doubt it. We amended our orders - I switched to hot
chocolate, she to kir, which was good enough to make her get
two (I must admit I helped with a sip or few).

Flixbus LIL ZGJ 2020 2125 2AB

Eventually it was time to catch the bus, in which we found
some guy camped out and using both of our seats, which we'd
paid E2 each to reserve. He vacated meekly enough.

The bus lets you off on the far side of the train station,
most unpromising. We took what turned out to be an unnecessary
E10 taxi ride to the Hotel Hans Memling on Kuipersstraat,
about a mile up the way, but we'd have had no idea how to get
there, as there was no place open to give us a city map.

The hotel was closed when we got there, so I rang the emergency
intercom and got instructions on how to get a key and get in.
This involved a small amount of multilingual misunderstanding,
but we were in soon enough.
--- Platinum Xpress/Win/WINServer v3.0pr5
* Origin: Fido Since 1991 | QWK by Web | BBS.FIDOSYSOP.ORG (1:123/140)