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<blockquote data-quote="BillB" data-source="post: 2247544" data-attributes="member: 9985"><p>With details of the battle in mind I climbed the tower. Jackie was forced by her knee to stay in the car as the climb would have given her almost unbearable pain. I made my way to the top and gazed out at the battlefield. The broad sweep of the sloping ground just ahead of me was plain to see, as was the area where the French army lined up and ordered their crossbowmen forward. Just about where I’d parked my car was the spot where the Black Prince had commanded his men. After reading up up on the course of events on that late August evening almost 700 years ago the action was plain.</p><p></p><p>I stood up there for about 10 minutes, studying the lie of the land, working out what had happened where. At the point, overlooking the main scene of the action on the sill of the tower is a diagram pointing to the areas where the French army lined up, where the Genoese advanced, the stretch where the French knights, clad in full battle armour, made their initial charge, riding down the Genoese because they thought they were running away. I was then looking at the view that King Edward III had had as commander of the English army. That was another advantage - his view was clearer and more comprehensive than the French king’s.</p><p></p><p>Climbing down the steps I paused at each level, gazing out at the same view that had faced King Edward. Very little of the landscape has changed in the intervening years - no big buildings were situated nearby, no apartment blocks, no power stations belching smoke or steam.</p><p></p><p>I went back to the car and we had a short discussion about how to spend the rest of the day. Our very loose schedule had been thrown out by the closure of the museum so we agreed to drive towards Boulogne and find a small restaurant where we could have some lunch.</p><p></p><p>The traffic was light and our progress smooth, even Boulogne’s streets being calmer than usual, and we were just wondering where to park to find a restaurant when we came to a sign pointing to the Old Town (La Vielle Ville). We had once had a very pleasant lunch in the old town where there were a goodly number of places to eat and right behind the sign was a parking area with plenty of slots free. Naturally, I turned in, parked in the nearest empty space, and read the official sign telling me what the charges were. Surprisingly reasonable, I thought, considering we were in one of France's major ports.</p><p></p><p>We strolled slowly, Jackie’s knee allowing no faster pace, through the old gateway leading to the Vielle Ville. We passed the cathedral and carried on to the street where most of the restaurants were situated. At one point I spied a familiar facade and stopped. “Isn’t that the place where we had moules à la provencal some years ago?” I asked Jackie. She was studying the frontage of La Belle Epoque, as the restaurant was called. She agreed and as we only wanted a light lunch we went in.</p><p></p><p>As soon as we stepped through the door I knew that we had eaten there before - the decor consisted of many photos of the adorable Audrey Hepburn in all sizes and at all stages of her career. However, our appetites drove us to reading the menus and though there were many temptations we both settled for the Salade Nicoise, which turned out to be a delight. We chose the house white wine to accompany it and I should say that I have never been disappointed by the house wine in any French restaurant and La Belle Epoque was no exception.</p><p></p><p>On the way back to the car we once again passed the cathedral and decided that we’d try to have a look at the interior, our last effort some years previously having found it closed. This time it was being renovated but we managed to sneak in for a quick look and were totally ignored by the workmen.</p><p></p><p>That evening the hotel offered us the menu we had enjoyed the night before, but with a change of dishes. We accepted but insisted that the starter should be the same as yesterday’s - the carpaccio of scallops.</p><p></p><p>I chose the French whisky again as my apéritif and it reinforced my initial impression. Later on, after our return, I bought a bottle for my collection.</p><p></p><p>The storm had subsided so I slept soundly all night. After breakfast we began our drive home</p><p></p><p>When we crossed into Belgium we found the coronavirus lockdown had begun. Every motorway stop had closed its restaurant and was serving snacks such as slices of hot pizza. Being regular customers at an Italian restaurant in Luxembourg which is owned by Italians and the pizzas are made in a genuine wood-burning oven by Italians we never order pizza anywhere else. So we had to settle for a cheese and ham sandwich.</p><p></p><p>A few days after our arrival back in Luxembourg we received a call telling us that Jackie’s knee replacement surgery had been postponed indefinitely. Having undergone one procedure on her spine which had successfully banished the pain she was suffering, she is now faced, for the foreseeable future, with the agony of a knee joint that has lost all of its cartilage. How I wished I could take her pain onto myself.</p><p>However, in May surgical procedures were once again reinstated and Jackie received an email with an appointment a few days later for her knee replacement. The operation went ahead successfully and after several weeks of rehab treatment she is now virtually back to normal.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="BillB, post: 2247544, member: 9985"] With details of the battle in mind I climbed the tower. Jackie was forced by her knee to stay in the car as the climb would have given her almost unbearable pain. I made my way to the top and gazed out at the battlefield. The broad sweep of the sloping ground just ahead of me was plain to see, as was the area where the French army lined up and ordered their crossbowmen forward. Just about where I’d parked my car was the spot where the Black Prince had commanded his men. After reading up up on the course of events on that late August evening almost 700 years ago the action was plain. I stood up there for about 10 minutes, studying the lie of the land, working out what had happened where. At the point, overlooking the main scene of the action on the sill of the tower is a diagram pointing to the areas where the French army lined up, where the Genoese advanced, the stretch where the French knights, clad in full battle armour, made their initial charge, riding down the Genoese because they thought they were running away. I was then looking at the view that King Edward III had had as commander of the English army. That was another advantage - his view was clearer and more comprehensive than the French king’s. Climbing down the steps I paused at each level, gazing out at the same view that had faced King Edward. Very little of the landscape has changed in the intervening years - no big buildings were situated nearby, no apartment blocks, no power stations belching smoke or steam. I went back to the car and we had a short discussion about how to spend the rest of the day. Our very loose schedule had been thrown out by the closure of the museum so we agreed to drive towards Boulogne and find a small restaurant where we could have some lunch. The traffic was light and our progress smooth, even Boulogne’s streets being calmer than usual, and we were just wondering where to park to find a restaurant when we came to a sign pointing to the Old Town (La Vielle Ville). We had once had a very pleasant lunch in the old town where there were a goodly number of places to eat and right behind the sign was a parking area with plenty of slots free. Naturally, I turned in, parked in the nearest empty space, and read the official sign telling me what the charges were. Surprisingly reasonable, I thought, considering we were in one of France's major ports. We strolled slowly, Jackie’s knee allowing no faster pace, through the old gateway leading to the Vielle Ville. We passed the cathedral and carried on to the street where most of the restaurants were situated. At one point I spied a familiar facade and stopped. “Isn’t that the place where we had moules à la provencal some years ago?” I asked Jackie. She was studying the frontage of La Belle Epoque, as the restaurant was called. She agreed and as we only wanted a light lunch we went in. As soon as we stepped through the door I knew that we had eaten there before - the decor consisted of many photos of the adorable Audrey Hepburn in all sizes and at all stages of her career. However, our appetites drove us to reading the menus and though there were many temptations we both settled for the Salade Nicoise, which turned out to be a delight. We chose the house white wine to accompany it and I should say that I have never been disappointed by the house wine in any French restaurant and La Belle Epoque was no exception. On the way back to the car we once again passed the cathedral and decided that we’d try to have a look at the interior, our last effort some years previously having found it closed. This time it was being renovated but we managed to sneak in for a quick look and were totally ignored by the workmen. That evening the hotel offered us the menu we had enjoyed the night before, but with a change of dishes. We accepted but insisted that the starter should be the same as yesterday’s - the carpaccio of scallops. I chose the French whisky again as my apéritif and it reinforced my initial impression. Later on, after our return, I bought a bottle for my collection. The storm had subsided so I slept soundly all night. After breakfast we began our drive home When we crossed into Belgium we found the coronavirus lockdown had begun. Every motorway stop had closed its restaurant and was serving snacks such as slices of hot pizza. Being regular customers at an Italian restaurant in Luxembourg which is owned by Italians and the pizzas are made in a genuine wood-burning oven by Italians we never order pizza anywhere else. So we had to settle for a cheese and ham sandwich. A few days after our arrival back in Luxembourg we received a call telling us that Jackie’s knee replacement surgery had been postponed indefinitely. Having undergone one procedure on her spine which had successfully banished the pain she was suffering, she is now faced, for the foreseeable future, with the agony of a knee joint that has lost all of its cartilage. How I wished I could take her pain onto myself. However, in May surgical procedures were once again reinstated and Jackie received an email with an appointment a few days later for her knee replacement. The operation went ahead successfully and after several weeks of rehab treatment she is now virtually back to normal. [/QUOTE]
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