Today, a kind of safari party with Isabelle Carlier, only instead of the wilds of the savannah or the parquet, we took to the marshes of Bourges. Over five gruelling courses of the Marais Cathedrale Food Tour, we met local artists, shared audition flyers, and digested a new, non-circular circuit of the city, all before the acid reflux of a script consultation between Niemczyk and myself in the evening.
On a cathedral/heritage note: as we passed around the front of that already-explored building, a member of our party named Francoise promised to show us 'the ass of the cathedral', so that we expected to be taken to its rear. Instead, she pointed to an obscure, high-up sculpture, amongst the angels and devils and so on, of an ass: a disembodied derrière with just the hint of a pair of balls hanging beyond.
Not wanting my assumption - that this was some 13th-century apprentice craftsman's cheeky, illicit signature, unnoticed by his superiors (with the exception, surely, of the almighty one) between countless more sacred motifs - to be corrected, we hurried on to the cheese course before Niemczyk could get a photo. Watch this space!
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