I woke up late (finally) this morning to a quiet and slightly chilly but beautiful and stylish apartment to myself in Como, Italy. The wind is whistling at the windows and it's pissing rain pretty hard. Turned on the TV and eventually figured out how to change the channel to MTV, so I could see what the kids are listening to these days. The signal keeps cutting out everytime the wind picks up. Out the window, the old fashioned TV antennas equipped with new satellite dishes sway back and forth on the tile rooftops. Turns out it's mostly stuff we hear back in Canada. But it's kinda nice to hear a bit of a reminder of where I'm from. A complete immersion into another culture might be a bit too much.
I made myself some breakfast and a caffe americano by using their espresso machine and boiling some water in a pot on the stove. I love italian coffee but I wanted to sip a big cup of something while I watched TV and checked my email.
Maybe it's just the cheeziness in me but I started hearing a few things from the TV while I was half paying attention and typing. A random interview with Arcade Fire was on about their continuing rise in popularity...whom I actually saw in concert a couple days before my trip.
"When you're on the right track you can surprise yourself a bit." - Arcade Fire guy
Hey, its not too deep or anything, but I heard it. Signs everywhere that I'm doing the right thing. Maybe I'm more open to hearing it now. Every day has been so different beyond anything I could dream up. This lack of control and knowledge is so liberating and, necessary. I have no idea whatsoever what I'll be doing tomorrow. It's really damned exciting.
So yes, I realize I haven't posted on my blog in a long while...I've been just too damned busy doing stuff that there's barely been time to reflect on what I've done, which in reality is exactly what I've needed. But I still definitely want to share my experience on this blog, and now that I have a day to relax I can do that. Who knows how long it will take me though to catch up, as my days have been filled with awesomeness.
I also realize I should have bought a netbook before coming so I could type when i dont have internet, check my email and post when I do, and have a place to back up all my photos...for anyone wanting to travel like I have i highly recommend this. My plan was not to be attached to my computer and emails etc while i was travelling...but it's been inevitable when I've chosen to do this blog. Also, typing on italian and especially french keyboards is a pain in the ass, so pardon the occasional lack of punctuation. And as for my photos I've had to pay thru the nose to back them up on dvd...so a portable hard drive or a computer would have been nice.
I'll get back to Como later....you won't believe where I went while I was here...and just prior I lived it up in Rome and then made a spontaneous trip to Pompei...stay tuned for that story too...
Let's pick back up in Paris; I better get started because SO much has happened...
*****
So after little sleep due to a long conversation with Visa the night before, we woke up, had a late breakfast and went to the Number One spot on my list, a place I never went when I lived here before: La Cimetiere Pere Lachaise. So glad to have had my 50mm lens for this...some awesome shots here. Buried at this famous cemetery you will find Chopin, Modigliani, Jim Morrison, Paris' beloved Edith Piaf, and Oscar Wilde. His grave was the most impressive of all, a huge sculpture covered in adoring graffiti, messages, quotes and...lipstick kisses. So interesting...fans from all over the world, including many gay supporters. Grandma wasn't at all impressed though; considering we just came from war memorials where such behaviour couldn't be more disrespectful...so I know where she's coming from. I'm really impressed she was able to walk up the steep cobblestone hills of the cemetery on her new knee too; a pretty huge walk and we just started the day.
We then stopped for an amazing lunch at a random Brasserie near Porte de Gambetta north of the Cemetery. I've been amazed that we haven't had a single bad meal this whole time. I mean we could easily have ordered the wrong thing or picked a bad restaurant...but i think it's a combination of good luck and just that there's great food everywhere.
It was then time to head to the Eiffel Tower; Grandma had never been, but it would be my fourth time climbing to the top. No complaints whatsoever, I'll never get tired of going up the Eiffel Tower, trust me! But we got there and of coruse the lineup was huge, so we tried the handicap line...and we needed PROOF that she was handicapped. Like, a document. Ah yes, the french will never change. They couldn't just LOOK and SEE she had a cane and we could have showed a driver's license proving her age. Nope, can't do that, can you? I guess there is a massive problem with people pretending they're handicapped in order to skip the line for the Eiffel Tower....*COUGH*...ok.
So instead we decided to reserve for the next day and take a bus tour instead! I never actually thought I would like it but it was actually a good idea! We had headphones that told us a bit about some monuments and in between they played classical music...at one point Grandma turned to me with a big smile and said "This is actually kinda fun!" So cute. We eventually got off halfway thru the tour at Notre Dame and went back to the hotel to rest. Then we went out to dinner to a restaurant we tried to get into 3 nights in a row....there wasn't a free table so we decided to wait it out. Thus began a pretty eventful evening...
I had to do laundry so previously while Grandma rested I ran out and found a laundromat. So before we went to dinner I threw my stuff in the wash. A few locals came in while I was there, including a bum who sat and smoked at the other end of the room, then at one point got up and blew his nose in an old fabric softener sheet. Sexy. So I got back to the hotel and we went to dinner. I had set my timer for the dryer and it was going to go off while we were in line so as to avoid having that bum steal my clothes and wipe his ass with my socks I decided to run back to the laundromat and pick them up. In the meantime, the bartender had seen us and knew we were waiting. We only had 10 mins or so to wait, for the first time the whole trip, I left Grandma's side for 10 mins.
I ran to the laundromat, and ran back to the hotel, and ran back to the restaurant. Our table had just become available; perfect timing. Then everyone in the restaurant were coming up to my Grandma, smiling and saying things like "We're glad you're ok" and "wow that was crazy!" etc., including the restaurant owner and some american girls and a man at another table. So I asked what happened! Apparently, as soon as I left, some of the anglophones standing and drinking nearby noticed my grandmother alone, so invited her to chat. Then some other guy wanted her to have a seat so he asked some guy who was sitting to offer up his seat. That guy got upset and they started arguing and then I think the first guy shoved the other guy and tried to punch him! And in the cafuffle (sp?), Grandma was shoved out of the way and fell partially and a stool hit her leg...the whole time she had no idea what the hell was happening nor did most of the bar. Immediately, the bartender I will soon get to know as Thibault, kicked the guy out who started the whole thing. Apparently the guy was a regular patron too, but now of course is banned from the restaurant.
Grandma was ok, and it was more just an exciting little evening...with a small bruise on her leg as a reminder. I told everyone after, of course I leave her alone for 10 mins and she starts a new French Revolution in the bar...can't leave her alone for a second, jeez... :) Just be careful, she might whoop your ass if your back is turned...
So we had a great meal after all, and it turns out the bartender is the son of the owner and is half french. i chatted a bit more with those americans, and we all decided to meet up for a drink later. I took my rabidly violent Grandmother back to the hotel so she could chill out, and I went out for a drink with the americans. We then went and met up with Thibault at another bar, then I took them to the Moose, the Canadian bar where we all had a few drinks. They wanted to go to karaoke after, but I had a pretty exciting day already...
One of the american girls asked me "I don't get it, I dont speak french but Im always really nice to everyone here and I say 'merci' and 'bonjour' and they're mean to me sometimes!" Well, I basically said "Well it isn't your fault...but it is". I've learned that French people just have different personalities than americans. They take a bit longer to warm up to you but they are still nice...and it REALLY helps if you speak french. I think Parisians are just tired of americans coming and thinking the world is one big amusement park for them where everyone speaks theire language and is there to serve them. French people aren't as 'chipper' and 'happy' as americans (or canadians) can seem at first. That sort of attitude can seem pretentious and just insincere, regardless of intent.
The next day was our last day in Paris. Finally got some money from Visa forwarded to a Western Union, thank god. We had alot to do that day but our priority was getting Grandma a new suitcase. Luckily near the Western Union I spotted a luggage store...thankfully because I didn't know where we would find one. I helped her buy a kickass new carbon-fibre Samsonite suitcase. We then set off to Notre Dame where the bus tour left off and hopped back on. Went by and saw the Opera house, Grandma is a big opera fan. Then we passed thru Place Vendome where the Hotel Ritz is, and made our way up the Champs D'Elysees to the Arc de Triomphe. We had a reservation at the Eiffel Tower for 3pm so we hopped in a cab. Got to the tower just in time. Still a lineup in the reserved line though. We got to the top and Grandma was thrilled. I've never seen Paris like that day, a near cloudless sky and perfect sunshine. Very cool.
We got to the bottom and of course get hoarded by the Senegal black dudes who try to peddle their Eiffel Tower merch. There must be an Eiffel Tower merchandise pimp somewhere who gives them the stuff to sell. Because they are all tall, young guys selling the same stuff. If you pay attention, the tattered sheets that they lay on the ground and set up all their stuff on have little strings on the corners...for when shit goes down, like it did when we were there. Turns out it's never that serious, but they're operating a business without paying taxes, so the police can arrest them and take their shit. They're released right away though. This happens all day long. But the hilarious part is that as soon as the police catch one, in the blink of an eye, the others all see it and each grab all 4 corners of the sheet and they are GONE like the wind. You should see these guys run...and watch the Famas rifle-toting military dudes chase after them and tackle them....SO FUNNY...maybe I shouldn't laugh but I can't help it.
We headed back to the hotel to rest, and I had arranged to meet with my old Professor Pierre Tomi from school here in Paris. He taught my favourite course while I was there; Paris History. We even did excursions around the city! Now I don't have a great memory for history, but it was fascinating at the time...and he's so nice and I'm glad he kept contact with me, even though I wasn't the top tier student.
We went out to meet him at a cafe and we hadn't eaten all day so we didn't stay long there...but it was great to see him! He lost weight! He's 75 now but looks great...such a pleasant and courteous man. I knew he would get along great with Grandma even if they couldn't really talk to each other. Grandma could speak a tiny bit of french so they could a bit. Before going to the restaurant we went down the street so Pierre could show us something....ever the tour guide! We looked up and he showed us a sign outside the house where Picasso painted "Guernica"...and across the street, the building where Louis XIII was crowned. Crazy!
I left Grandma again briefly, but this time in the trusting care of Pierre while I returned to the hotel to change our taxi to an earlier time because of the metro strike that was to begin the next day. They walked to the restaurant and I met them later. I don't often meet people that I trust completely, but him I do, and it's comforting. We had a decent dinner, a bit strange as this time we weren't quite sure what we were ordering...She got ribs by accident, it was ok but hard to eat. I had an "ile flottante" for dessert, a sort of giant pile of egg white merengue covered in caramel and creme anglaise...yummy but really sweet. We had a great conversation and in fact, a great Thanksgiving Dinner, I realized after!
We got back to the hotel and started to pack. No more 3-4 star hotels for Brendan...boooooo. I'll miss her though, the breakfasts, the dinners, the taxi rides...but also caring for her and helping her realize a dream of travelling somewhere special, to war memorials and a magical city that I know well. I'll even miss when she rambles, because I know she's talking because she feels comfortable knowing I'm there. I hope one day when I'm 83 in the year 2065 I can go to Paris with my grandson...
The next morning we got up early and left Hotel Madison on Boulevard Saint-Germain and hopped in a taxi. Turns out the traffic wasn't as bad as it could be but it would suck to miss the flight. We grabbed a final breakfast together and headed to the gate. It's easier for her to get around an airport in a wheelchair so we preordered the service the day before. We waited a bit for the guy to come, but I had talked to the desk and they said I could accompany her no problem to the gate. It was soon time to go and she hopped in the wheelchair and we were on our way, but then I was told I couldn't go with her. Suddenly there was a rush to get her to the gate as the guy had to help other people and then I went back to the desk and explained how my Grandpa helped her to the gate in Toronto, and suddenly 3 people were yelling at me in french that it's not possible in Paris unless you have a plane ticket etc etc and now we have to go to the security check. I then found myself getting really emotional like they were taking her away from me. He was about to take her thru the gate with letting me say goodbye, so I stopped him, and he asked me to tell her she will be ok and someone will help her when he drops her off. Still being rushed and people talking and metal detectors beeping I leaned down to kiss her goodbye and she was smiling and I told her everything and she wasn't worried and trusted everything would be fine...then I had to say goodbye and looked back to see this nice young man, but still a stranger to me, push my grandma thru the security check while I was immediately being escorted away from the station...I got really upset and angry that I coudn't help her any longer and that they didn't let me go with her...
I was then left with no one to talk to and feeling pretty choked up as I went to find the gate to the rural train back to town....I had no idea it would be that hard to let her go.
At breakfast before she left I asked her what I could bring her for breakfast and with a big grin on her face she said she maybe wanted a doughnut she saw in a display case...She told me that in 1st grade, in 1933 during the depression and her family was poor, she was always late for school because on her walk to school she would stop by the store window and watch them make doughnuts...I just had a vivid image of a little girl standing in front of a store window all bundled up in the cold, watching with big eyes as they made tasty treats right in front of her...
The funny thing is that I don't see an older person, I see a person who is still young at heart, and still has a passion for living...
So I'm sad that I'm now alone. But I soon realize that all is good, and I'm alone in a city I know and love...now it's time to revisit some familiar places...
No comments:
Post a Comment