In Nancy, city is a zoo.
Even at 7am, peacocking is taking place by the bandstand, in the park – just beyond the deer enclosure.
I can’t compete, so escape into the narrow centre-ville streets to find the electric sheep.
On the other side of the shut-up electro bar, a scenario is playing out on a wall, by a bricked-up door.
Wanting to play no part in any crime scene real or imagined, I pad away briskly down the narrow alleyway pretending I haven’t seen anything of any interest … thinking of the things I might say if I’m ever interrogated for being seen at the Mouton Electrique at such an early hour.
When I arrive at the main square, I’m back on solid gold ground.
Where I feel a sudden urge to explore the incredible buildings lining the edges, so I amble into the Musée des Beaux Arts where I interrupt the security guard and the welcome desk clerk exhanging an early morning French kiss. I can’t help but smirk and I might even be glowing a little red as I hand over more Euro notes than I care for to enter a fine arts gallery.
And yet for the next few hours I’m completely sidelined by some of the extraordinary paintings and installations on display … none more so than those of Émile Friant.
When I escape outside into the bright Spring sunshine, it’s for a final blast around the old quarter of Nancy and it’s pristine trimmings, trappings and impeccably-manicured street garb.
After a pit stop for lunch in the old town, I grab my car and take the autoroute to Sedan, for an overnight stop in a centuries-old French chateau and a beer in a British pub and a pizza in an Italian restuarant.
On the way back to the castle, I stop briefly to watch a group of locals engrossed in a serious game of boules, while bored teenagers tear it up and down the narrow streets on mopeds and quad bikes.
Despite the evening noise, a deep sleep arrives to meet me at the imposing castle walls.
An Outside World 