I arrived at the station to pick up the Citiz car to scurry off doctorwards and saw that the front nearside tyre was flat.
So I phoned the center for the car pool and then phoned the doctor to reschedule for tomorrow.
Then wended my way home to accompany Patricia to the restaurant to which we had been invited.
Our rendez-vous time was 12.
We arrived outside the joint at 11:33, and there was already a queue.
So we joined the queue and I texted our host to tell him where we were.
The Entrecôte is a funny old place. Three stories of restaurant.
We looked pretty fit, so we were sent to the top floor.
Lots of tables in rows. As we mounted the stairs we saw kitchens on alternate floors.
The waitress seated us, then asked if we wanted wine.
There's one kind of wine. It's their Entrecôte bordeaux.
She then brought our starter - salad with a vinaigrette and some walnuts on top.
Then arrived our meal. Steak pan-fried in butter with their special Entrecôte sauce, then sliced ready for you and served with a mountain of skinny chips. The steak was delicious and perfectly prepared, the sauce smooth and rich. The skinny chips were skinny chips.
As we progressed through our meal she brought extras of steak (the portions were decent rather than large) and refills of chips were available, but only one of us took that.
Then there's a dessert menu and coffee available.
During lunch we enjoyed talking with our fascinating host, who's a naval chaplain in Marseille.
He has a wonderful apartment in Bordeaux that he's having renovated by an architect friend or ours.
Afterwards we spent a short moment in the Apple shop where I needed a connector for doing presentations in churches next week.
Then up to the Nespresso shop, because Pat had never seen it.
It's a breathtaking place, like a temple to standardised podded coffee.
A well-dressed and well-groomed young man offered us samples in beautiful little china cups.
One was supposed to taste of toast, the other of cocoa.
Both tasted of coffee.