It’s getting dangerously close to real life around here. I found a new doctor, joined a gym, shopped for groceries, and went to the movies in my neighborhood.
But this is Paris and I came here to make sure my life was more than shopping, cooking, eating, and sleeping. So I stopped by a favorite wine bar last week, did I mention drinking? I ordered a glass of Brouilly and the bartender replied: “Non, non, monsieur, aujourd’hui c’est le Beaujolais Nouveau.” Of course it was. All over Paris were signs proclaiming the arrival of this year’s vintage and I was lunching at ground zero. Tasted pretty good, too. More a testament to the context than the wine, but still.
I jumped into the cultural life of the city when Tia and John, the lovely propriétaires of my building invited me to Paris Photo last week. This is a gigantic marketplace: galleries from around the world displaying and selling contemporary and historical photography create a comprehensive survey of the history of the medium. Two hours was as much as my brain could absorb, but just being there made me feel part of the city.
Then I got carried away and booked tickets for a futuristic La Boheme at Bastille. I’m not sure what to expect—the only image I’ve seen looks like a spaceship has crashed in a snowy forest— but Dudamel is conducting and I can always close my eyes, listen to the music, get off the spaceship and return to Paris at the beginning of the twentieth century.
This all followed a propitious return to the city. I rented a van to haul my stuff and what Jess had stored in our house and as I approached the city, a rainbow appeared. No kidding. A rainbow. I’m not making this up and it gets better. We unloaded at her house, drove across Paris to my apartment where I found a parking place in front of my house just as the clutch gave out. Couldn’t drive another meter. When I finally reached the rental company they told me not to worry, those Renault vans are famous for faulty clutches, and they’ll send a tow truck.
So I’m getting there. The bureaucratic details are being ticked off my list, I have a comfortable work space in my little house, central heating, a good baguette only a block away, and all of Paris within minutes on the Métro. I’m home.
©2017 Ron Scherl
This is so wonderfully cool! We get just one go around and you are living your dreams! Congrats to you Ron! I cannot wait to raise a glass with you in your new home town! Bisous!
Merci, Eugenia,
Come on by. I’m always thirsty and would love to see you.
The comment from the bar tender made me laugh. In looking at your pictures again, I noticed they weren’t the same and made a wonderful triptych with the couple and the red trees anchoring and framing the images.
Good to hear you are happy and content with life.
Good Eye Karl,
I was hoping people would look closely enough to see the changes.
congrats again!
how about pix of the perch?
Congratulations, Ron! You made it. Will see you next year in Paris. Happy Thanksgiving!
Peter
Thanks Peter,
I’m looking forward to seeing you here.
Sounds incredible to journey from living the village life to dwell in Paris. Very excited for you and eager to hear about what living in Paris is like, the people, the places, the food.
Thanks Nancy,
It’s amazing how much there is to do here, which is exactly what I needed after the slow pace of a rural village. Stay tuned.