If you’re a woman who likes to travel around all over the place on your own, you often have problems explaining things. But, that’s not the case at the Le Bristol Bar in Paris. Mademoiselle Lili really feels at home there.
For example, Venice. As a woman on a business trip, you’re often simply ignored. It’s always the same: I’m sitting at a restaurant table with a rumbling tummy. People sit down next to me, and are instantly handed the menu. But not me. When I ask for it, the waiter gives me two! menus, and turns away again. After 20 minutes, they serve up pasta to the neighbouring table, and I haven’t even placed my order. If I could I would like to say: “Does a woman always have to be accompanied by a guy to get some pasta in Venice?” But unfortunately, I don’t know enough Italian to say that.
If I’m in a foreign city in a beautiful hotel, I like treating myself to a nightcap before going to bed. I have always loved the charm of big hotel bars, and the film “Lost in Translation” just made me love them even more. Hotel bars are transit zones where complete strangers meet. It’s the luck of the draw, and sometimes the perfect pair comes together. In New York, without thinking I smiled at a man who was also drinking alone, and he immediately joined me. After about six minutes of small talk, he asked me the price for a night. I thought he meant the price for the hotel. But then the penny dropped. This time I wasn’t lost in translation because the man was an English speaker. He apologised, but I made sure to down my drink as fast as I could. Since then I always wonder whether the minibar in my room might be the less complicated alternative.