Serendipity in Paris

Many amazing things are happening... I have spiralled my way back to Lake Chiemsee in Germany, little paradise enveloped by the Alps, warm still days with unpredictable yet always intense thunderstorms, like an exclamation point stuck awkwardly in the !!! sentence. I've been working long long hours in the kitchen though, peaking anxiously through the windows at the colors outside, and many thoughts have arisen in my mind. these thoughts are cementing into changes, and as I look ahead to the unknown decisions I can't help but feel.... confused. but I feel it's worth rewinding the tape a bit, back to where I last wrote in Lisbon. For why do I write anyway? if i may humbly ask. i figure writing is for the writer, re-thinking and re-feeling what happened to get a grasp on what is now; i definitely need this so-called 'grasp'. if you care to join me in this catharsis then I am most honored........

Riding the train from Lisbon to Biarritz, I had a week left with my dad before we were due to part ways, him back to US and me to Lake Chiemsee. The wheel of time would come to a confused full circle, 38 years having passed since my dad was here, and he would re-meet some old acquantainces. This was odd, because so much time had passed - we were staying at Francois's house, the 15year old grommet surfer turned 53 with wife and two kids. The town of Biarritz is great, many pretty girls driving scooters with big helmets and skimpy clothes, warm croissants and cheerful little houses. in the Basque country bordering Spain, the coast has waves, with mountains nearby. We stay here a few days.

I walked out of my room one night and the moon was full, and the light was exceptionally clear. This is what they call a 'moment'. Patchy thick clouds covered the sky, the moon sometimes hidden sometimes peaking out between the gaps. Backlit clouds with very precise white rims, yet a very black black interior; and when the moon finally found a large enough hole it stood as an intense beacon, the wind pushing the guarding clouds around. i held my breath, it was so quiet, then a car drove by. there was also a cat. when the moon was covered by the cloud i went to sleep, only to awake several hours later with an sharp pain in my stomach. i went outside feeling the need to throw up, bent over and then I looked up for a second and saw the moon was still there, very orange near the horizon now. Cloudless sky. try as i might the noxious substances in my tummy wouldn't leave and when the moon set behind the mountain I crawled back into bed in enlightened frustration. I couldn't tell if I should feel sorry for my condition or thankful, but I spent all morning in bed and that wasn't fun.

on July 13th we drive north toward Paris, and stoped at Chateau Chenonceaux for the evening. Castle built on rockbed in the middle of a river, with a network of moats around its gardens. We came at night and the castle was lit up outside, classical music playing and tourists crusing about, couples making out. Erase all of that and you see this place as a glorious/repressive powerfigure, defensible by the surrounding water and tall walls, its inhabitants under siege and stranded by the barbarian hordes. The peasant population working the surrounding fields paying tribute or whatever. the whole thing is romantic, noble, and depressing.

The next morning we drive into Paris and turns out not one but TWO friends of mine are here by chance. Paul arrives from a month in Reunion Island this morning, and Mina arrives from touring with a fellow Indian 'gypsie' band. I meet Mina at a restaurant with his troupe from India, with their broad moustaches and flowing clothes. We spend the next day running amok at the Louvre, the Arab Institute, all mixes of old and new, glass pyramids and steel frames with medieval stone monuments around, carvings and artifacts. The evening is exciting as an approaching thunderstorm sparks anxiety all around, we're trying to find a restaurant with my dad, things aren't flowing and fall apart when the crazy rude taxi drivers refuse to cooperate. Th popular belief that everyone is rude in Paris is not true, but the taxi drivers seem to embody that notion with great force. I say goodbye to mina but still I havn't seen Paul. Evidently he's at a certain Hotel Printemps but there are 8 such hotels in Paris, we are even staying at one just in case Paul happens to be there. Finally at midnight we connect after a long sequence of scribbled notes and emails, spend a few hours with him at an Egyptian hukkah bar then I leave the next morning with my dad, start our return to Frankfurt.

These have all been a series of mini climaxes, but the turning point when I arrive in Chiemsee is still to be ahead...

Lyon, Lisbon & More

many days later and I've emerged in front of the 'Praça dos Restourados' in Lisbon, the monument that marks the restoration of the city after a massive earthquake in the 16th century.  it is a city-phoenix, arisen and burbling with satisfaction, the funny portuguese cruising about in picturesque trams and buses.  it's nice to just be able to babble in the local language without having to struggle - it's amazing how the ability to communicate defines identity.  have i mentioned the architecture is cool?  monumental churches and bridges, short stumpy houses with pillars and cute windows.  europe seems to have such limited growth, all the old buildings are just chillin' there uncaring about modernity.

even cooler - super duper dude - was the Basque architecture in southern france.  we drove around the soft lit hills, classy farmhouses, old stone shelters emblazed with graffiti for the independence of 'le pays Basque'. hey, wait a second i though the struggle with colonialism over in like the 50s.  Oh yeah, the basque, kurds, armenians, etc...  we just cruise into the little town, gawk at the historical heritage and draw out our euros.  the pluses and minuse ehh, what's right and what's reality is a confusing mix.  their radical sport 'Jai Alai', i think its called, is growing fast with the tourism, borderline nuts with a hard small ball flung from baskets attached to your arms - intense stuff.  The countryside is magic, fields and steep rocky slopes... 

a few days ago we stayed at Lyon (central-southern France), with a friend of my dad's from Brasil.  she lived in a bohemian part at the top of the hill, narrow mini roads with artists, cobblestone sidewalks, and strategic placings of dog poo.  We ate Berber food from Algeria (kind of like Chef Karim's in SB) with the approaching thunderstorm.  The day stays light till about 10pm, the poor europeans are apparently quite sun starved so they remain outside all day long in summertime, savoring everything until the thunderstorm sends us packing.  We also spend a whole day at the friend's Chateau - vineyard and winery passed down the family line - basking with wines and cheeses....  the luxuries of bourgeoise ancestry are too pleasant to dismiss.

soon we catch the train to Biarritz on the western coast of France...  the crowded trains with backpackers are always an adventure, a study in space maximization.  we shall see what Bastille day on the 14th unveils....  should we run around with american flags and attempt to provoke conflict??  these are the kinds of compelling ideas my dad gets, silly man, hopefully i'll be able to keep away from much bodily harm. .

Europe trip begins here

WHERE?!?

  I´m sitting in front of Lake Chiemsee, in the Bavaria region of southern Germany, listening to bossa nova.  The ´foothills´of the Alps are the backdrop, sheer granite and intense mountains coming out of the flat valley.  This is where I´ll be working next monthö for now we´re just in passing, having spent the last few days with the senior beadle (bob) at a sports trade show in nearby Munich.  Quite fun- blondes in bikinis, motorbike demos, odd new products which cross-breed scooters and camera tripods.  The event was 5 or 6 indoor football fields worth of goods & services, all designed specifically for the enjoyment of us hedonistic humans.  Fun - image - adrenalin - all require a lot of creativity these days.

TWISTs

  Then there was Amsterdam, about a week ago.  For a place that is associated with hedonism it sure is classy; the 17th century buildings and canals merge with the drug & sex culture in a very natural, unselfconscious way.  Not forced in-your-face profit oriented abuse of our mischivious desires like the kind of hogwash in Las Vegas.  It´s Isla Vista meets european San Fransisco, with bikes everywhere, funny sounding trams, and cozy coffee shops (ahhhemm...)  definitely worth an extended visit.  A random coincidence was stumbling into my friend Lauren Slater - we just happened to be on the internet at the same time, found out we happened to be in the same city, met at Haagen Daz ten minutes later, and went dancing.  Its sure to become one of the techno-buff urban myths...  Serendipity through the internet is a groovy thing indeed.