Amid estimates of property, equity warrants, offers and negotiations held records, I still set up a few slots for vacation this past summer (almost entirely) in Lyon. Among
release triggers, there were, in bulk, balances with the Mom, oh regretted remnants of a childhood spent too quickly, all that to say we have done business dream and robbed the Kookai the "street of the Republic" - in the end beauty tests Petit Paume, a concert live @ XX fourvière on the roof of a van, hand in hand under the stars and fireworks July 14 unforgettable.
Side Out Of Town, back to two memorable weekends of my beloved land, I named the Lower Normandy.
arrived by Friday evening, we landed at Caen and savor a good night before heading towards the Channel. The weather is bad, but the bottom of the air is rather mild. We win Carroll and Antonio'm walking in the beautiful valley of Lude. It leads to the sea and offers a small ridge where you can admire a magnificent panorama, nostrils filled with spray. And while the cabin is perched high Vauban, who dominates by far, the bay of Mont St Michel.
The popular ride, we meet Sophie and Valentine, cousins of Anthony, on the beach, and we offer the first swim of the year, jumping in the waves and avoiding the roller. 
We end the day with our hosts Judith and Xavier, who invite us to eat mussels and fries at a restaurant made of unusual bits and pieces to deco doubtful, whose terrace merges with the beach. They bring large pots steaming on the table after a looongue wait and let us serve large ladles, and we gorging fries delicious. The night did not passing clouds but the good mood does not leave me as I cuddled the many kitties of the pretty house that welcomes us at Angomesnil.
decidedly The clock is ticking too fast. Anthony showed me around Granville and rocks that promotes the melancholy mood before I go back, torn, which referred me to the train through France one week to awful.
Indeed, after a weekend so delicious, I'm not greedy like that, go back to her lover and enjoy the pleasures of salty air. But then, if I want to have this chance, I take a train to Granville 20h the following Friday. Which generates at least from Lyon at 17:30. So I ask politely to leave an hour earlier on Friday that easily comes and gets the approval of top executives. O rage oh despair, half an hour is far too insufficient to cover the miles of underground passageways that separate the Gare de Lyon station Vaugirard Montparnasse 3 (until then unknown to the battalion ...). So I start by asking for a quarter of overtime to catch the train from 17h. And that's when my ordeal began, that insomnia has set in, the guilt was almost too much to ask all fall through. The boss refused, at first Madame, which ensures that it will "last 17h carat", then sir, who maintains that "it's like that when we bump, bump it." After a scholarly organization that gets me at least the conscience not alter my work, I approach, at 16h40 on Friday, and trembling, a last attempt to get permission supreme. I plead the cause of my weekend and ran away as fast as a "good will go, it annoys me" savior. 6h later, I found serenity and a radiant smile came on the platform Granville. An evening stroll on the beach makes escape the hassles of urban remnants, and the announcement of next program promises a peaceful night, back in the house Angomesnil. We leave on the boat to Xavier Chausey!
Time is radiant frankly disgusting after a week in the words of my Normans, I get all excited and observed sea.
Three hours later, here we are moored in a bay of islands, ready to explore its treasures. I discovered the rock elephant and "monks", the small houses of Normandy and the beaches quiet.
In return, our online mackerel attached to the boat is finally shaken! The creatures wriggle, yuck, it's ugly, dying.
We put foot on land exhausted, skin tanned by the salt air and the reverberation from the sea. Some whelks in bed, dreams filled with beautiful images and the laughter of the best day of the year.
I go to Lyon full of courage to face one last week before new beautiful pictures, Corsican, this time ...
