Le Chopp’ing

When one thinks of France and alcoholic beverages, usually the first drink to come to mind is wine, followed closely by champagne. But here in the North we think beer.

So if you want to be a good Lillois, you better get yourself to a beer bar ASAP, and I know of just the one.

A great beer bar can be found in Vieux Lille, called Le Chopp’ing.


The beer bar.

It has 18 different beers on tap, most of which come from Belgium (and are, therefore, delicious). Not only are they on tap, but they are also reasonably priced. It’s only 5euros for a pinte (pint or 50 cl) or 3.50euros for 25cl.

When I say pinte, I mean it for the size alone. The beer wont be coming in a generic pint glass like they have in the States. These beers come in their own special glasses, as is required by all great Belgian beers.

While I often vary my drink choice in order to experience as many Belgian beers as possible, I highly recommend trying the Rince Cochon for two reasons. First, and most important, it tastes good. Second, there is a tiny cute glass pig on the stem of the glass.

The bar has two big flat screen TVs for watching football (soccer) and rugby games, lots of high, round tables with bar stools, as well as some sidewalk tables for when it isn’t raining. If going on the night of a big game, be sure to get there early, as the place is small and fills up fast.

Check it out:
Le Chopp’ing
16 bis, rue Royale
59800 Lille

Laissez-moi danser!

One thing I don’t like about French house parties is that nothing happens at them. After giving everyone la bise (cheek kisses), all there is to do is find a seat, sit in it, and talk. All night.

I miss going to house parties where there is an activity. Back home, I would often have board game nights and Wii parties with my friends. Here, it’s all talk and no action.


Cranium. The best game ever.

Now that I speak French reasonably well, I am able to partake in said conversations, but when I first moved here and spoke very little French, it was miserable. I was miserable.

All I wanted to do was dance!

I loved going to dance parties back in the States. If I ended up at a party at someone's house that wasn't a dance party (and there was no cranium), I would turn it into a dance party.

It turns out, however, that I am not the only girl in France who just wants to bouger mes fesses (shake my butt). Dalida was a very famous French pop artist in the 70s.

I just discovered her song, laissez-moi danser, and it pretty much sums up my feelings on this issue.



Let me dance!
Oh, let me!
Let me dance and sing in liberty all summer
Let me dance!
oh, let me!
Let me follow my dreams

Des Oiseaux de Nuit (Night Owls)

When the French party, they party all night long. They like to stay out until at least 6am. This is especially true of the boite de nuit (nightclub) crowd, but house parties can last until an equally late (or early, depending on how you look at it) hour.

I am bad at partying until the wee hours of the morning. In California, the bars closed at 2am, which meant they started kicking people out around 1:30am, which meant I was usually home and in bed asleep by 2:30/3am!

I have not yet been able to adjust to the French way of partying.

They start their parties around the same time as I did in college (around 9/10pm), but then just keep on going and going and going like the energizer bunny until, if it were a weekday, I’d be waking up to go to work.


Clearly he was modeled after French night life.
source

The drink of choice on these ridiculously long evenings of partying is vodka redbull. Having had a bad experience and not liking the effect of the combination of these two substances, I abstained from the drink my first night at a Belgium nightclub. This resulted in me tired, cranky, and wanting nothing more than to be at home sleeping, sitting in a corner looking miserable by 3am.

Round two at a Belgian club, I decided to give this drink a try, thinking that maybe the only reason the French (and Belgians) are so good at staying out so late is because they are fueled by energy drinks. Despite my best efforts to “get wings,” come 3 am, I was tired, cranky, sitting on a bar stool and asking FBF if we’d be leaving soon.

My Made in America body doesn't want to be up past 3 regardless.

I have not remained completely untransformed, however. It has only taken two years, but I am now able to stay up an entire extra hour before hating the world. Just last weekend I was dancing at a house party until 4 in the morning!

At the rate of half an hour of additional party time per year I reside in France, it should only take me 4 more years to enjoy partying à la française!