Running Away From Home
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
Tuesday, 21 February 2006
Somewhere over the Atlantic enroute to Paris…
So far so good
Had a bit of a scare a few minutes ago with my precious laptop. As I was attempting to put my computer bag in the overhead compartment when we boarded, someone bumped me and I dropped it. Yes, it was padded and well secured, but these things are fragile and, frankly, I lost my last laptop to an airline mishap so I’m nervous about such things! Anyway, at first opportunity, I went to boot it up and it didn’t wanna! Eeeeeek! I had a bad moment or sixteen at that point. Relieved that we are on our way to France at this point, not India or Nepal yet so that my odds of finding a place that could repair IBM thinkpads were excellent. Fortunately, these Thinkpads have a restore function and I was able to tell it to restore my data back to last night. I lost the e-mail I got since 7 p.m. Monday, which wasn’t a lot (but if you sent me any and haven’t heard back, please let me know!) So far it seems to be working fine though, which is quite a relief! I’ll be more careful in future. I’ll also subject this to some tests to be sure all is well once we get to Eric’s flat later this morning. Er… this evening… um…
My body clock thinks it’s 6:00 p.m. Monday night. My watch, set to Paris time, thinks it’s 3 a.m. Tuesday morning. They’re both right.
Now my watch says it’s 9 a.m. Two extremely good meals and what passes for a nap later and we’re almost there. It’s light outside, we’ve been given enough coffee that I think I can function and my eyes feel like somebody rubbed ground glass into them. I’m an old hand at traveling, but this is the hard part – the last little bit of a long distance trip. You’re tired, you’ve been cramped in a small space for many hours, you’ll be disembarking into a strange city where you might possibly not know the local language and you still have to locate your luggage, go through customs, find your way to where you’re staying and get your balance before you can rest awhile. And you really need to rest! At least I do. But no rest for awhile and we’ll try to stay awake until nighttime so we can deal with jet lag.
Yet it’s been nice so far. The sense of relief when we were truly airborne over the ocean, heading for Europe, was amazing! We made it! We got out! New life beginning. Lena and I have been cuddling in our seats and holding hands like a couple of newly weds the entire trip, we’re so excited and happy! One of the amusing fringe benefits of this is that the flight attendant assigned to us is a really sweet older gay guy named Rick who, realizing that we’re dykes, has gone above beyond and over the top in making sure we’re well taken care of and have everything we need. Traveling in comfort with friendly people and good things like roasted peppercorn duck breast for dinner and amazing raspberry preserves for breakfast really does seem an auspicious way to begin this phase of our adventures. It’s a far cry from psycho landlord anyway!
Somewhere in Paris I’m sure I’ll be able to find a wireless spot from which to send out e-mail and post this to my blog. I think that most of the McDonald’s have wi fi here LOL! Not that it seems reasonable to go to McDonald’s in Paris, but I do have my internet addiction to feed! I suppose it might be amusing to see what passes for a big mac here. I do recall going to a Burger King in Amsterdam years ago just because I was curious. Not worth the effort. Anyway, until I have internet again, I’ll just keep up this offline journal and add to it until there’s a chance to post.
I tried to post from the airport, but the signal was really weak and funky so I don’t know if it worked.
Tuesday night
11 Rue du la Perche, Paris
Damn. I ran away from home and landed in a fairy tale. Of course, like every fairy tale, it has castles and magic and glitter and such but also the occasional monster, evil stepmother or thicket of thorns to challenge the heroes. I’ve had my share of dragons and thickets this past year. I guess that means I can relax a bit and enjoy the good stuff, eh?
So we ran away and ended up in Paris. Last time I was here my French friends were all out of town for awhile and there was a major transit strike that had the city paralyzed so I never got far from the train station and ended up going back to Belgium.
Today we took a taxi from the airport to where we’re staying (a neighborhood that our friend Gernot likened to San Francisco’s Castro district – trendy and rather gay.) We drove through much of the city and so really had a chance to get flavors of neighborhoods, people, the general tenor of the city. It’s lovely – dense, bustling and chaotic in that way that only someone who was born and raised in cities can appreciate. Fortunately, Lena is from New York City and I am from Chicago originally so we like the urban craziness. Paris however, is much older than either of those places and it shows. Hmmm… shows isn’t quite it – maybe “vibes” older would be more accurate. You can feel that it’s been a major metropolis for a millennium or more.
There is a friendliness here that I really like. People coming and going meet your eye, smile and say “bon jour!” as though they mean it. Even the young woman in the airport who had a conniption fit at something she was doing to help us was friendly – made it clear somehow that it wasn’t personal that she was upset, it wasn’t directed AT us – she was just exciteable and upset, but still cheerful to the people. Even in those instances where the legendary Parisian snobbery about their language is apparent, it is with a sense of humor. The airport staff who joked about Lena’s weird French (it’s a pastiche of Quebecois and Algerian French, fluent but highly idiomatic) were amused and upbeat rather than rude. I’m letting her do most of the talking, arranging and negotiating. I can understand a bit if people speak slowly, but I really don’t count French as one of the languages I’m functional in beyond the very very basics of “I need a ticket to…” or “I would like a cup of coffee” or “Where’s the toilet?” The stuff you get in first year conversational French (which I took years ago.) I won’t get lost, but I’m unlikely to spend the afternoon discussing philosophy or post modernist art.
Every city has so much its own character and, like people, you never know for sure until you meet them if you’re going to like them. We’ve only been here about 10 hours but, thus far, I am finding that I like Paris. It feels familiar and pleasant, like an old friend. I’m a bit surprised actually since I’ve never felt particularly driven to visit here the way I have other places. I remember the first time I was in London, how disappointed I was to discover that I didn’t much like it. I found it grey and depressing and unfriendly in the extreme. I hadn’t been prepared for that – I so wanted to go there and see all the places I’d read about for years and all the history. And, once I was there, bleh! Not horrible really, but more the way I feel about some American cities like Portland or Washington DC – I’m sure they’re perfectly nice places full of lovely people, but they aren’t places that suit me at all. London was like that and it didn’t improve with time. I’ll go there for a purpose if I need to, but not just to hang out or soak in the energy. Paris, on the other hand… I could see spending time here, see living in this energy the way I could see living in NYC or Vancouver – they *feel* right to me!
Eric’s flat is much bigger than we expected, quite spacious actually for the two of us. The bath is, as he warned us in his e-mail, “designed for pygmies” having a tub that nobody over the age of 10 could possible sit in, but that just make it amusing – I’m a shower person anyway! There’s a certain amount of the typical “single male” thing here, combined with some signs of excellent taste. He has some really nice furniture in leather and metal that’s almost sculptural (not comfortable, but attractive) and the more typical battered and stained old sofa with a throw cover on it as well as the mattress on the floor and a pile of laundry in the bedroom with a lack of real cooking utensils in the kitchen.
We’re not here to cook though. That is so not any priority we have right now. We went out, after we were settled into the flat, and bought a few provisions: bread, cheese, fruit, pate and cream for our coffee. This is France after all. The bread is astonishingly good and not to be missed, even for me who usually doesn’t eat much bread or other wheat products. The cheese likewise. And there are a million little shops here and there that sell pate and sausages all superior to their American counterparts. We don’t really need anything more. It’s nice to have the use of this apartment so we can buy simple groceries rather than eating in restaurants. The prices here are high, particularly in this neighborhood. The dollar is weak at present, so we’re not getting the exchange rate we’d like and, although it’s listed at about 20% over the dollar, the Euro seems to buy less in Paris. Our successful traveling depends on us being, if not actually frugal, at least sensible with our slim savings. Thus the cheap standby tickets from our friend and staying in Paris being contingent on guesting with people and avoiding high hotel and restaurant fees. We’ll save those for when we must.
It’s cold here and rather overcast today. When we arrived it was snowing lightly, though it didn’t stick to the ground at all and had turned to an indifferent rain by the time we reached the flat. Not freezing, but just above. I was glad I had kept one pair of good, insulated leather boots to wear on the plane and thought to bring a winter-weight scarf for my neck. We were shivering until we got here and were able to dig through our luggage and produce sufficient layers to offset the chill. The heat was off in this place as Eric has been gone since the weekend, so the cold had settled in. We’ve got the heater going and it’s taking the edge off, but we’re glad of the silk thermals we packed and I have no regrets about stuffing my down vest into a corner of my suitcase. A good down vest is a traveler’s treasure – it’s light but very warm, squishes down real small to fit and, in a pinch, can be put into a stuff sack to make a spare pillow if, like here, you arrive and find a single pillow for two peoplel
Wednesday 22 Feb. 2006
We went out this morning to explore the neighborhood. Lots of little galleries with a few pieces of art, most of it quite good. Also the little ateliers, shops that sell couture – generally a particular designer or style, only a small handful of dresses or shirts or jewelry. And cafes everywhere, all of them with at least a few tables available at the sidewalk, though in this cold drizzly weather everyone is inside. This is a good city for walking, though the old stone sidewalks are quite narrow, they’re in excellent condition and the flow of foot traffic is constant.
I found a lovely café with wireless internet, though we didn’t have our computers with us. It’s only about 8 blocks from the flat and is open 8 to 8 so I’ll go back and upload all of this plus do e-mail either later today or in the morning. The signal was good and we were able to use Skype to call Gernot here in Paris since we’re not having luck with the local phones (though my cell phone works here, it’s pricey to call.) He’ll be over any minute. It will be great to see him, it’s been a few years. For a long time, he and his wife Cathy were frequent visitors to San Francisco, but they haven’t been able to get away in awhile. Lena was over here to translate for Lama several years ago when he taught in Europe, but I didn’t come with her for that trip. Since I now know that Skype is working, I should be able to make calls to Nyondo and all my other loved ones if I can work the timing right. We’re 9 hours ahead of the West Coast so, while I’m writing this in the afternoon, it’s barely dawn in the U.S. If I try this evening I might catch people in the morning.
Looking forward to more explorations. I am rapidly falling in love with this city – it’s just lovely! The people are so pleasant and friendly and there seems to be much good will and warmth. One thing I’m noticing is how the French girls all seem to have such lovely hair. Yes, obviously they work at it, but good hair, well groomed seems to be very important here. Made me need to come home and brush mine better LOL! I’m enjoying watching the fashion parade as well. The styles here are very much in accord with my own personal taste.
