Cafe Can Can on my Birthday

Another wonderful night's sleep in my cosy Wellie room, awaking to mist on the windows, another  cold wet day with snow forecast. Not as bad as in Christchurch which as well as recent earthquakes has flooding rains. A large cup of hot Nerada tea starts my day, and as I notice Emma leaving I ask if she is free tonight we are having a meal out, and she is welcome. She says she's busy, may be  going to the cinema with friends. Happy, I retire to my room to contemplate the day and the future of my sixty ninth year, sounds a lot but not really in the scheme of things.

Ping! my mobile goes with a message. Who could that be as few have my overseas number? It is Emma inviting me to a birthday lunch at a local French cafe called Can Can. Interesting, I was going to have lunch with Sean Kelly at the AIDS foundation to discuss volunteering, but that can wait. I text back saying Yes, where and when? I'll get picked up because it is raining, Emma signals, and I am happy to get ready and prepare the orange almond cake I had baked, with a glaze to finish it off.

Also to ring Sean and make a date for tomorrow.

 Twelve thirty arrives and Emma is punctually there for the appointment. We pop down two minutes in the car to this cute and tasty cafe at the end of a small arcade in downtown Newtown. It's filled to overflowing and the menu is small but choice, with French classics. We  order quiche with side salad, a 'raclette' for Emma and a salmon with leek for me. Emma's cheesy quiche arrives with mine, steaming hot and very tasty indeed. It is the full French experience with the staff all French and speaking with a charming very French accent. We both reply in a bit of French, no problems there. The clients are varied and all enjoying the food, some are oldWellington  citizens on a lunch out, regaling each other with stories from the past and the present, the internet has changed everything, especially in far-flung Wellington where half its population has travelled and the other half is living abroad, like Emma's three siblings, in London and Japan. 

We discuss life in general and Emma asks me about my francophilia and I have to tell her a long story, which may be related in blogs to come but not for today. Suffice to say, she listens politely and I wonder if it is too much, but then I want to hear her story, which is just as interesting, although she is a mere  forty summers old.