Chapter 28: The Feast

nerd blog post #31

I received over 300 telegrams voicing concern about my lack of posting yesterday. Don't worry, the nerd blog is still up and running. I hope I didn't ruin your Sundays entirely by failing to post.

After posting, eating and showering on Saturday, Viktor and I took the metro to Chinatown to meet up with Cynthia, Merrill and some of their friends from when they studied in Paris during their undergrad. Viktor and I ate delicious sammys and then all of us went to the Louvre. I didn't go in, but it was amazing to see it from the outside.. A beautiful building. From there, Viktor, Cynthia and I wandered around and then settled at a cafe for awhile. Returning back to his land, we ate a good dindins on the patio of the cafeteria, and then went to meet his clown friends.

The clowns were of the British, Canadian and American variety. It was great to be with other Canadians (there were four of us!) and also with fellow theatre peeps. I had forgotten how much I love theatre friends. I felt instantly at home, and we had a great time together. By the end of the night, I almost felt (and deeply wished) that I was joining them at Lecoq for their first day of school today. We saw some street performances, and I really loved the city crowd, all enjoying Nuit Blanche. We walked around forever and I saw Notre Dame, Montparnasse, Shakespeare and Co. and other various famous places.. Because we were there early (by Nuit Blanche standards), the lines to go into places were crazylong. Instead, we enjoyed what we could without waiting. We eventually got thirsty and went to a bar called Shannon Bar, where we sat and talked and had beer. Those rose sellers are in Paris, too, and a stranger bought me a rose! I gave it to Viktor afterwards. At the end of the night, Viktor and another clown and I headed back to his land. The rest of the night was one of the biggest adventures I have ever had. Is the suspense killing you? Good.

side note: When I met the other clown from Viktor's land, I was overjoyed to hear his name. My response was ecstatic, "NO WAY!! We call my dad Raffi because he looks like him!!" .... I guess some personal anecdotes should be left unsaid.

On Sunday, Viktor rested and met a family friend, and I took off with the hit children's singer for the day. We ate crepes, met Cynthia and the gang for famous macaroons (they weren't that impressive), and then Cynthia, Bananaphone and I went to Champs Elysees and l'Arc de Triomphe. There was a special aerospace/airplane exhibit there that was very cool. I thought so much of my brothers and dad, who would have loved it.. They would have loved it so much that I would have become bah-red and wanted to leave. But for real, it made me a bit sad that I couldn't see people who would have enjoyed it more than me, enjoy it more than me.. You know?

Cynthia had met a Frenchman the night before named Romain, and we met him before their date, and then left them. Little Toy Train and I ate at the caf and hung out for awhile until I met Viktor again and called it a night. This morning, my train was at 630am, so I got up at 530 and took the metro to the station, boarded the train, and went right back to sleep. Arriving in Rennes at 852, I had to hurry straight to school to teach at 915. I'm pretty tired, but still have to do my German homework before this afternoon's class, and then go to the soiree planned for the first year students at the Irish pub. I feel like my old self - running around with no sleep and enjoying it immensely!

It's crazy, Paris. SO much to see. Everywhere I turned was another great monument, or something I'd read about. The feeling there was indescribable.. And though I've heard contrary, I felt nothing but warmth from the Parisians I encountered. Everyone I talked to was friendly and helpful. I think people are nice everywhere. Maybe my optimism is blinding, but I think strangers, even in Paris, are lovely.

My amazing friend, Wray, gave me the Hemingway book called A Moveable Feast as a going away presie, which is a memoir of his time spent living as a writer in Paris in the 1920s. I saw many of the places he wrote about, and it was so cool that they're still there and still running, almost one hundred years later... The title of the book originates from a quotation from a letter Hemingway wrote to a friend, "If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for Paris is a moveable feast." Though I don't live there, and I'm not a young man, I definitely felt full from the sights and feelings that Paris gave me.. I can't wait to go back.

I'm happy to be home now, where the pace is slower and the coffee is equally tasty! The clowns have said they'd like to visit, and I'd like that a lot.

Signing off,
Hincks.