Date-crashing in France

When thinking back and writing about trips that took place more than a couple of years ago, it serves as a genuine test of my memory; a test I frequently fail. Unhelpfully, past-Tom did not leave many (or any) written records and in some cases very little photographic evidence remains due to the changing/breaking of phones and laptops. What is left for these places is not a descriptive narrative, but instead only the most memorable of events and fleeting flashbacks of emotions and general impressions.

This is the case for me in Lille, France -  a city I remember enjoying without any real sense of why. I recall stopping there en route from Ghent to Paris and preferring it to the far larger and overly-touristy French capital. I faintly recall enjoying strolling around the quaint streets, enjoying the atmosphere and admiring the architecture. But most of all, I remember one particular evening spent with a fellow traveller and some locals.

It was early evening, I had just arrived in Lille, and I went directly to the hostel to leave my bag. As is common when staying in a hostel dorm I immediately struck up a conversation with another guest in my room. Josh was a student from London who was spending a few weeks travelling, like myself.

The hostel had a bar and it was happy hour so we made the only logical decision available to us and immediately fueled up on BOGOF cocktails. Sufficiently lubricated we headed out into the city in search of food and more alcohol.

A combination of time and alcohol means I don’t remember the specifics of how we got there - be it our second or fifth stop - but towards the end of the evening we found ourselves in a relatively classy rum bar surrounded by people considerably better dressed than ourselves.

I have always enjoyed people watching and even imagining stories for those I see and this was something myself and Josh were doing together. We speculated and invented extravagant stories for the many people passing our table on the way to the bar, some more realistic than others….

On the table next to us was a couple quite obviously on a date; from the emanating awkward atmosphere we safely guessed it to be a first date. We both agreed that it didn’t seem to be going well, making jokes and speculations from just a table away.

After some time the guy departed to the bathroom and we took our chance to test the accuracy of our predictions. We were surprisingly accurate; it was a first date and no, it was not going particularly well. Apparently they had little in common and she was not feeling it.

Before her date returned she asked the two of us to stay in order to prevent her having to return to the awkwardness of before. Consequently, the unfortunate date returned to find two extra guys sitting at his table.

For the remaining hour or so of the date we joined the couple. In fairness, the guy took it well and whilst clearly not thrilled - and with weaker English than the girl - did engage in the conversation at times. Only when the bar closed did we part ways and heading in the same direction as the girl she informed us that a second date was not likely to be on the cards.

I may remember little of Lille itself, but, in a country famed for romance, I distinctly remember spending a night crashing - or rescuing, depending on your point of view - a first date unlikely to be followed by a second.

Posted: 22/09/2021
Written by: Tom Taylor (@tomtayloor)