Finally, after some nice rest, we get up, scrape the scum off our bodies, sprinkle our lithe, finely toned bodies with manly cologne, put flowers in our hair and get some coffee. Poor Chris has finally broken his calm, placid, even-keeled state to proclaim that the pain coming from his tooth is now unbearable. Poor guy: medical help is not going to be easy to come by, especially since it is saturday.
Today’s drive will take us through the mountains to Lyon. It promised to be a very beautiful drive but, strangely for the first time, all we can think about is not throwing up. We wind up and down, right and left, left and right, down and up through the hills and over the dales. Jane, stop this crazy ride! So we stop in a town called Puy en Levant, a pilgrimage stop on the way to St. Juan de Compostella. I suppose it’s a nice town-it has a bunch of old stuff, narrow streets, french stores, even an organ grinder with a monkey. Maybe I’m still too ill from the drive.
Stephan and Pierre and everyone at the Sonic in Lyon are very welcoming. Their boat is right on the river and we can sit on the deck, watch the sunset and make the same jokes over and over again. That’s what we do-repetition=funny. Golden rule of comedy, fyi. Tonight we play with Cotton Wood, a gentilhomme who comes from the nearby countryside.
After rudely devouring more than our share of all of the food made for everyone else, we test the limits of everyone’s patience 1. by being too quiet for some serious drunk fellows, 2. by being too loud for some other non-drunk people 3. by making Pierre take Chris to the hospital, saturday night, for some emergency medical treatment for his tooth. That is way beyond the call of duty and deserves both a statue and a monument in the Sonic’s honor, especially since it may be the last year of this venue’s existence.
