I had a wonderful evening last night wandering down Blvd St. Michel, Rue de la Huchette, across le petit pont, past Notre Dame, onto L’Ile de St. Louis, and on to le Rive Droit. I managed to get over my initial excitement, but I am still very happy to be here.
Breakfast this morning was interesting avec Madame. I met some other Americans – they are here for a year as exchange graduate students. The proprietaire told me that she was full tonight and I was a bit demoralized. [It occurred to me afterward that I didn’t pass muster as I spoke in English to the other Americans instead of using my French. I think Madame did not like that. Oh well…] I managed to find another hotel, more expensive, but much nicer. I thought about combing the streets for a cheaper hotel, but what the fuck, I’m going to pamper myself. It’s approximately $15. Perhaps I should spring for a shower @$20 later in the week. Maintenant, je depart pour l’hotel d’Elysa.
Tuesday, September 17, 1985, 4:50pm, Hotel Elysa, Paris
I am sitting on my little balcony overlooking rue Gay Lussac and Blvd St. Michel. I am very tired. I walked all over the place today. I went out around noon, down to la rue de la Huchette and got some Greek food – the French version of a gyro. (Now I think it was schwarma.) I walked along the Seine and crossed over near the Louvre and then down through the Tuilleries along the rue de Rivoli, making my way slowly to the American Express office to change my money. L’Opera is right across the street.
I sauntered along rue de la Paix to Place Vendôme, St. Honoré and several other streets and back again to the Tuilleries where I watched some men play boules.
I had also been fantasizing about what it would be like to live here. It always hurts when one’s foolish fantasies come face to face with reality. This is a beautiful city and there is a lot of life here. I would love to live here for a year or so. The reality is that there is nothing I could do here. Not even wait on tables since I haven’t mastered the language. Furthermore, I don’t know anyone and the loneliness would kill me.
I continued to walk angling toward St. Michel taking streets parallel to it once back on the Rive Gauche. I got a little lost and had to check my map once, but otherwise my sense of direction has served me well.
I ended up walking through the Jardin du Luxembourg which is right across St. Michel from my hotel. What a lovely place! Many older people were out here playing chess or cards, or just sitting watching the world go by. The flowers and the fountains were gorgeous!
On the rue St. Germain I stumbled across Les Deux Magots where Hemingway, Sartre, Camus and Picasso used to hang out. The café was crowded (as I am sure it is a tourist spot now) and a street magician was doing some tricks. I also walked down the rue Jacob where Benjamin Franklin lived when he first arrived in Paris. I really do like it here.
I am noticing that my attitude changes when I am tired. I start dreading using my French, I get lonely and eventually depressed. Blacks do not appear to constitute any kind of separate group here as they do in the States. I’ve also noticed that ethnic groups in general do not seem to congregate together a whole lot. Everyone seems to be “just here.” It’s so nice! I guess I have watched the crowds enough for now. A nap is in order and then to find some dinner. I may also check out a bar if I can find one interesting.I would certainly appreciate some company.
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