Natasha and I were enjoying a rejuvenating break, strolling along the cobbled streets of Lyon, indulging in spa treatments and dining out at bouchons in France’s gastronomic capital. ‘I couldn’t go out with someone who didn’t appreciate good food,’ Natasha said while we enjoyed a leisurely breakfast. ‘It would be like going out with someone who wasn’t interested in sex,’ I agreed.
‘If you had to, what would you choose between bad food and good sex or vice versa for the rest of your life?’
‘I would have to choose good food,’ I replied after some thought.
‘I agree,’ she said. ‘I don’t think it’s possible to appreciate good sex if your life is void of good food anyway.’

It is, of course, possible to have too much of a good thing. We’d been warned about the rich Lyonnaise food when we checked in and sure enough, the butter, cheese and truffle oil we enjoyed at dinner kept us awake with bellyaches that night.

Natasha had spotted ‘VIP’ next to our names when we’d checked in at Cour des Loges. ‘Don’t you have the feeling they’re trying not to laugh?’ she said after we’d made our salutations to the friendly staff when departing the hotel for a spot of sight-seeing. Before we checked out, Gérard, the hotel’s amazing head of concierge, gave us three tomes of ‘golden signatures’ to pore over. It was more of a question of which rock ‘n’ roll star hadn’t stayed at the hotel than who had. We rather liked John Cleese’s ‘Merci beacoup’ which he’d signed off with ‘John Fromage’. Gérard didn’t ask us to add our own signatures.

It’s a good feeling missing someone. Hot Danish called me several times from the Albert Heijn supermarket while I was making my way from Schiphol airport and I returned home to a candle-lit apartment, a glass of Sancerre and home cooking. Things didn’t run smoothly however. ‘Eww,’ he said, throwing his head up in disgust while we were in bed. There was blood all over his face. ‘What the hell is that from?’ I said, leaping out of the bed. Fortunately HD’s first guess turned out to be wrong; he had a nose bleed. I’d better take him on the next spa break…