Friday 17th May - Old Bordeaux

D's day gets off to a flying start as he reads the news that LUFC have thrashed Norwich and made it to the Playoff final. Things are not so good when, having taken some time to write yesterday's blog, it just disappears while being saved. The replacement post is of inferior literary merit 
Today we are going into the centre of Bordeaux. There is no hurry as the Musee des Beaux-Artes does not open until 11.00. Yesterday's recce of the tram system pays off and we arm ourselves with 48 hour passes. We are going to get good value from these as it is quite a long ride into the centre.
The tram does not disappoint and delivers us to the Palais de Justice, just a few minutes walk from the MBA. The building is around three sides of a square but only the north and south wings are in use. D struggles to get a decent photo.
The galleries are arranged in date order and the collection is quite wide ranging. There is nothing really famous and after a couple of hours R claims to have had enough art for "quite a while".
D has a cunning plan that involves catching a tram north along the west bank of the river, before catching the water us to ride back south.
We ride the tram as far as the Cite du Vin and spot a place for lunch. The dish of the day is Fillet of Ling with pressed potatoes. Very tasty. 
The water bus is not too busy and takes us back to the old quarter of the city. So far the rain has held off but as we disembark we need to break out the umbrellas.
Bordeaux's Old Town is largely traffic free but beware of cyclists and electric scooters. These can be hired at several places but we chicken out.
Our plan is to seek out a suitable spot for dinner this evening without getting totally soaked. We manage this and then get the tram home. We have worked out a system. Stand on the tram platform at one of the ends. The priority seats for the lame are just inside the end door. When people see R's walking stick they jump to their feet and offer her a place, usually vacating one for D also. These seats give tremendous views, either over the driver's shoulder or out of the back of the tram. 
For our meal tonight we have chosen Édouard in Place du Parliament, a quaint square in the heart of the Old Town. D manages to find the way through the narrow streets, noticeably busier than earlier in the day. There is a throng seated outside the restaurant but we opt for inside, to avoid the skmokers and insects.
The starters are good and the steaks do not disappoint. While we eat there is quite a heavy downpour and we congratulate ourselves for our indoor choice. 
Close to the tram stop for home is the famous, or possibly infamous, Frog & Rosbif where we enjoy a nightcap. 

The tram home stops at Stalingrad where the drivers change over. It is almost like a formal ceremony as the two shake hands on the platform before the new man steps aboard and greets us all with a cheery "Bonsoir messieurs-dames". Best of all he is wearing his lead boots and gets us home before the rain starts again. 

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