We got talked in to the St. Patrick’s Day Ball at the Movenpick Hotel. We were warned that Tom should wear a suit or tux, but decided that the only sport coat we brought from the States would have to do. I was thankful for the designer top sister Margaret gave me last Christmas. We live fairly simply and weren’t inclined to buy fancy duds for the one evening. I did splurge on manicure and pedicure (hey, it was my birthday treat) and a pair of fancy stock
ings. Alas, the manicure shot is the only one I have to share as in my haste to get to the ball (pumpkin syndrome?) I neglected to bring the camera along. [Small factoid: what we call a "French manicure", which is also called a "French manicure" in Beirut though people are more likely to speak French than English (so why not "manicure francais"??) is basically unknown in France. How do these things start?]
The Movenpick is right on the Mediterranean, and a short taxi ride for us. We wanted a “service” taxi, the type that picks up multiple passengers and may not go directly to your destination, but costs only 2000 Lira ($1.33). Generally these are ancient Mercedes, with multiple bash marks and, often, assorted colored fenders. But this was our magical night at the ball, and we happened to get a cushy, newer service, and arrived in style.
In the outer hall outside the banquet room, waiters circulated with trays of shrimp and salmon canapés, and gin tonics, wine and champagne. I passed on the champagne, memories of next day headaches from bubbly white wine masquerading as the real thing, but when a French friend later asked why I declined a waiter’s offer of the bubbly and I saw that the bottle was actually Moet Chandon, I dove in.
There must have been several hundred people there. Lots from the British Isles. People were well dressed but relaxed, having fun. Robert Fiske came in blue jeans and a rumpled sweater; if you are that famous the dress code apparently does not apply.
There was a bottle of Jameson’s Irish whiskey and Bailey’s Irish Cream on each table. A four course meal was served around 11 pm. We had to remind ourselves it was fundraiser. We never did actually learn what the funds were for…
A band imported from Ireland didn't start until after dinner and played only one set--perhaps too busy with all the alcohol? But no one seemed to care, as canned dance music played and dozens of people danced, including a happy nun in full habit, and us (which is probably what saved us from hangover). When we left at 1 am the party was still going.
ings. Alas, the manicure shot is the only one I have to share as in my haste to get to the ball (pumpkin syndrome?) I neglected to bring the camera along. [Small factoid: what we call a "French manicure", which is also called a "French manicure" in Beirut though people are more likely to speak French than English (so why not "manicure francais"??) is basically unknown in France. How do these things start?]The Movenpick is right on the Mediterranean, and a short taxi ride for us. We wanted a “service” taxi, the type that picks up multiple passengers and may not go directly to your destination, but costs only 2000 Lira ($1.33). Generally these are ancient Mercedes, with multiple bash marks and, often, assorted colored fenders. But this was our magical night at the ball, and we happened to get a cushy, newer service, and arrived in style.
In the outer hall outside the banquet room, waiters circulated with trays of shrimp and salmon canapés, and gin tonics, wine and champagne. I passed on the champagne, memories of next day headaches from bubbly white wine masquerading as the real thing, but when a French friend later asked why I declined a waiter’s offer of the bubbly and I saw that the bottle was actually Moet Chandon, I dove in.
There must have been several hundred people there. Lots from the British Isles. People were well dressed but relaxed, having fun. Robert Fiske came in blue jeans and a rumpled sweater; if you are that famous the dress code apparently does not apply.
There was a bottle of Jameson’s Irish whiskey and Bailey’s Irish Cream on each table. A four course meal was served around 11 pm. We had to remind ourselves it was fundraiser. We never did actually learn what the funds were for…
A band imported from Ireland didn't start until after dinner and played only one set--perhaps too busy with all the alcohol? But no one seemed to care, as canned dance music played and dozens of people danced, including a happy nun in full habit, and us (which is probably what saved us from hangover). When we left at 1 am the party was still going.
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I was wrong about Spring, at least this year. We have now had several weeks of coolish (~65 F) weather with occasional showers.
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