On our last full day in Tours, we decided to just walk around the city before eating lunch down by the river.
We decided to have a picnic lunch a-la-Ernest Hemingway. We grabbed a baguette and a rotisserie chicken to eat by the river. We were already blocks past the grocery store, so we didn't have a bottle of dry white wine like Hemingway always drank, especially with his chicken and baguette lunches.
I got chickened out pretty quickly as did Lindsey, but Mona scavenged that chicken. Weird thing was, the grease was a strange neon green color, but the chicken tasted good.We went out for Moroccan for dinner, which just reinforced my desire to go to Morocco. God that food is amazing.
Tours was everything I think of when I think about a smaller French town. Kind of quaint in a great way - amazing architecture, delectable cuisine, châteaux, croissants and wine.
After an anxiety-ridden airport experience, Tours was just the thing I needed. Besides one day of feeling terrible, I only have good memories of Tours. It was another city, like Belfast, that wasn't too touristy, and I can't wait to have an excuse to return.
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