Bordeaux is an amazing French city and by that I mean- limestone houses, thousands of blue doors and a boulangerie wafting the smell of baguettes on every corner. Oh, and the women, those ‘I just rolled out of bed and happen to look this sexy’ French women.
We rented an apartment with Air BnB and our host was not only one of those aforementioned French women, she also had this eclectic apartment full of My Little Pony trinkets located smack bang in the centre of everything. As we stood on her balcony overlooking the cobblestone street, I don’t think we could have felt more French if we wanted to.
After exploring the historical sites we stumbled upon a macaroon shop, which sold unusual combinations like chocolate and foie gras. I’m not too sure it was a unanimous “Yum” from all three of us but it was worth trying something so ridiculously French.
We spent most of our first day in Bordeaux hitting the shopping district. All I can say is that the French economy owes me. It owes me a lot. I found a fantastic LBD by Sandro, a pair of ankle boots I had been searching for, for over 2 years and a huge but “necessary” make-up haul in Sephora.
Post shopping exploring of Bordeaux streets and alleys.
Over lunch we ate pumpkin soup with bacon and enjoyed glasses of rose while resting our weary shopping bag laden arms.
For dinner I found a restaurant called La Belle Campagne that emphasised seasonal and fresh produce, which was all locally sourced. It sounded exactly like what we three foodies would truly appreciate- a French experience without the typical heart attack inducing foie gras and duck confit.
(Nothing beats hysterical, laugh until you cry laughter with friends over French wine)
The food was simple and delicious, but what we were all squealing over was their creamy creme brulee. There was no sharing, we each had our own and loved every morsel.
Following dinner we wondered the cobblestone lanes down to the Miroir d’Eau where we posed for photos of the water reflecting the Bordeaux lights. Unfortunately I got carried away and started dancing in the fountain, while singing ‘Singing in the Rain’ and I rolled my ankle. Hobbling to the nearest bar, we ordered a bottle of rose to ice my ankle with (for purely medicinal purposes) and then an Über to send me home.
It was the end of a fantastic day and I crossed my fingers my ankle would be fine by tomorrow. If only Rose and cheese were the cure.