One wouldn’t immediately link France and Bulgaria. Even less so their cusine. So it’s perhaps surprising that last night we were sat in a French bistro, eating moussaka and listening to a female acapella group sing Bulgarian folk songs.

One of our three A’s… Cafe Gourmand in Gorron has recently changed hands and a lovely French lady, Jessica has taken over. She’s extended the opening hours and has introduced a musical evening every other Saturday. So despite having eaten an extensive lunch we rolled along there yesterday evening to sample the music and food. You’ll appreciate the fact that we subjected ourselves to two cooked meals in a day purely in the interest of bringing you this extensive and informative blog….

The moussaka was very nice and the music too, though perhaps it was more suited to a different venue. The trio battled against small talk at the tables and food being served whilst they performed, as well as the poor acoustics. Nevertheless it was an enjoyable evening and we’ll try to continue supporting Jessica in her enterprise….though maybe we’ll have to eat less beforehand…

In preparation for our stay in Berlin, I’ve begun an online German language course with Babbel. It’s excellent and I’m finding it somewhat easier to learn than French. I think this is for two reasons. My late father had A level German and possibly my affinity for the language has been genetically enhanced, though it’s more likely that my regional origins and it’s latent ‘patois’, allow me to pronounce German with more ease.

A guide book to Berlin has been purchased, which along with articles on all the major tourist attractions and tiring walking tours includes insights into differing cultural aspects of the city. Always one to delight in the absurd, I read about the musical background of Berlin and found a paragraph on early 1920’s home grown cabaret music or ‘Schlager’. These were silly, surreal songs like, “Mein Papagei frisst keine harten Eier”, which translates to ‘My parakeet doesn’t eat hard boiled eggs’. I feel we should go to Berlin post haste, in search of such a discerning feathered friend…