Celebration

It is such a joy to be back in Paris. Of all the cities she has visited in the world certainly the City of Light is by far her favourite, even when there are so many bittersweet memories attached to it.  She tries to avoid thinking of these memories, maybe new nice memories are in the make. It is good to be here with her best friends. When they came with the suggestion of this trip, it did not take her a lot of thinking. The money is never a problem, Anthony’s divorce settlement gave plenty of room for pleasant things.  And travelling is always a pleasure, the life with Anthony has made her accustomed to this. She is one of the few people known to herself to never suffer from jet lag. 

Kate promised her friends to show them around and not limit them to the obligatory tourist sightseeing. Of course they wanted to see some of these things, but they have asked her to show some of the daily life of Paris as well. Two of the girls have never been out of Canada before, Melissa did visit New York but never went further than that. They started the trips through Paris enthusiastically but after two days the jet lag has hit Kate’s friends hard. So she asked them to stay in their hotel rooms today and take it very easy. Tomorrow things will feel a lot better to them.

On her own she can take a trip to memory lane, visit all the places that are so dear to her. So she goes to Pont Neuf, walks to the middle and looks into the Seine. She half dreams away, remembers the embraces and kisses shared on this spot, but the traffic prevents her to completely getting lost in her memory. The average Paris driver seems to think that you can speed things up by using their car horn. One that honks right behind her makes her almost jump and she decides to get off the bridge and go to the riverside. She wants to sit on their bench again, where she has felt as close to heaven as possible.

Kate is disappointed when she sees that the bench is taken by an international mixture of people, so typical for the city. When she passes it she hears all kind of languages but no French at all. She decides to walk on, only to see that the next two or completely occupied too. When she comes near to the next one she feels her heart skip a beat: he’s sitting there! Her mind tells her it’s not possible, but her eyes don’t lie. He looks up from his book and his mouth opens without words coming out. They both can’t speak while she sits next to him.

After minutes that seem ages he is the first to find his voice: “Is it really you? Am I getting crazy?” When she is able to answer her voice irritates her, she sounds like a kind of frog: “I’m crazy too, Justin. And I have been insane!”                                                                                                                

They sit silently next to each other, the book seems to function as a borderline between them. She looks at it: Jean Paul Sartre’s “La Nausée”.  He notices what she is looking at, tells her he wanted to reread the book and this is a proper place for it. She nods, her hand reaches out towards him. It takes a while, but then he takes it in his hand.

“I want to explain…”, she clears her throat.                                                                                    “Only if you want to”, he reacts. She nods, her eyes are full with tears. Her free hand wipes them from her eyes. Of course she wants to! This man gave her so much happiness in such a short time and yet she abandoned him like he was a stray dog that had followed her for some time. She starts about the sweet memories she has: the lovely days they shared in this area, the afternoons they spend in little hotels when they hardly left their room; ‘til the bitter end.

“I remember far too well waiting hours at the Gare du Nord for you. Sitting on a bench, my suitcase at my feet, glancing at my watch every few minutes. At eleven o’clock the reality of you not showing up hit me like a brick. Like a zombie I stumbled out of the station, took a taxi and went back to my hotel. I was lucky I could get my old room again.” She can hear the hurt in his voice. Even after more than three years has passed. “I loved you so much, trusted you so much. I would have done anything you wanted.”

She goes on: “When I got to the hotel that day Anthony was sitting on our bed. He was so excited, he told me not only the conference had been a success but he was going to be rewarded by the Minister. We had been invited by him to have dinner and Anthony would officially hear that he had been appointed as Undersecretary of the Delegation at the United Nations in New York. We had to fly back that evening. I realised that he would not get this job if he was going to the Minister on his own. These functions require people in so-called normal family situations. I could not get myself to hurt him and ruining his future at the same time. He had been so busy that week, hardly aware at all of my existence, let alone me having an affair. I know, it was more to us, but to him it would be like that. You have to realise that we were a couple since we were teenagers. I simply could not leave him.”

“Why didn’t you warn me in any way of this. Leaving me in this uncertainty was so cruel. I don’t know if I can ever forgive you for hurting me this much.” His expression is angry and sad at the same time though his hand fondles the hand he is holding. She is crying now, but he is not able at this moment to hold her, telling her everything will be alright. 

When she is stable again, she tells him about the pain she caused to herself. She felt so guilty and sneaky towards him while he thought so highly of her. Months later she had confessed to Anthony what had happened in Paris. First he forgave her, seeing clearly that she had chosen him above her English lover. Their relationship was not the same after the confession and had caused their marriage to be wrecked after all. Anthony now was somewhere in Asia at an embassy with his new wife, his former secretary. When he informed Kate, he had told her that he trusted his new wife completely. She would never betray him.

Justin tells her that he stayed in Paris a few days longer, first hoping that Kate might pop up after all. Of course he knew better that that, he expected nothing else than that she had gone back to Canada with her husband. When boredom and loneliness crept up on him he had gone back to London and had picked up his old life at the bank. For months he had felt numb, just functioning like a sort of robot. The plans had been so nice: he would have showed Kate Europe. He had been waiting for her with the tickets to Brussels in his wallet. It would have been such a nice start.

“We could do things now, Justin. We can travel the world if you want.” There is hope in her heart and she thinks she sees a sparkle in his eyes. Can she restore what she once ruined?     

“First I need to get to know you again. I need a clean start, need to forget my moments of misery.” She feels she might have a chance to win this love of her life once more. She nods, she understands what he needs. She suggests that they could start with having dinner together tonight. She will have to tell her friends they will have to spend the evening without her, but they certainly will understand. He tells her the name of a restaurant; it’s not familiar to her. According to him it’s new and quite cosy. She tells him she will dress up for it and he nods approvingly, telling her he needs to go now.

She is sad to see him go, but feels delighted to be able to see him again tonight. That really is a new thing, they always met in the afternoon.

Her friends are happy for her and when she is dressed, they have a good look and give her their approval. She orders a taxi, it arrives soon at the hotel; the restaurant is not very far, but part of the distance she has to walk. The taxi driver explains how she can reach the spot. He looks at her dress in a funny way but she tries to ignore him. When she gets near the restaurant she sees that there is something wrong: it is almost a hamburger joint. The people are mostly sitting outdoors and are noisy. It looks like they are all Americans.

A boy starts talking to her: “You look beautiful, madam. Are you going to celebrate something?”
“I fear it’s the opposite”, she answers in tears while she is certain he will not be there.

Photo courtesy of Hera Bell, http://www.glamourmakeoverphotography.com/

Being in the Way

Teenagers can be very tiring I noticed when I tried to sleep in my cabin on the ferry. Especially when there are some 20 of them and no adult in sight. I noticed them already in the bar the night before. They were having drinks and became louder and louder. In the night the boys wanted to meet the girls or the other way around,  and I happened to have a cabin right in between theirs.

So I stepped dead-tired on the train the next morning. I was the first in the compartment, so I found myself a very strategic seat, a bit near the door but yet not too near. It was 3-persons bench and opposite me was a 2-person one. I put my backpack next to me, crawled in the corner and tried to get an extra nap on the non-moving train. After some time more people came in, without disturbing me. I wasn’t really asleep but felt like a person that was looking at things almost unaware.

It was all too good to be true: right after there was an announcement on the intercom that this was the train to London, my self-chosen solitude was over. A woman with backpack and two suitcases came over and behind her a man with a lot of luggage. I had never seen a person dragging so much along. They began to make a sort of still-life with their luggage and I put my backpack between my feet. Most of their suitcases were put on the floor too, but it was too much so he put some on the bench and sat next to me while she sat on the opposite one with a backpack. Immediately the train left the station.

They looked like they were even more tired than me;  they must have travelled a long way.  That was proven when he produced a printout.  I could read that it looked like a reservation for a hotel somewhere in London and that this came from a Spanish website. Together they studied the map of the London subway. It seemed they agreed,  my knowledge of Spanish is totally none.  She got the backpack from her bench and put it on top of a suitcase and made a gesture that he should come over to her. She looked quite ravishing to me but he was too tired to feel tempted and shook his head and said something. She shrugged and joined him in yawning.

After a few stations some people had left the compartment and no new people had come in.

She sort of woke up, got up and I thought she would go for the toilet. But she went the other way and called the man. He took a look at her, next to two empty benches, looked at the luggage, shouted something back and sank back on the bench again. She came back and was now totally restless. She couldn’t find a nice way to sit, even took off her shoes and sat on her knees on the bench. Because of this she gave me a generous view on her bottom cleavage. She had this nice coloured skin all over her body. She must have been born this way or taking sunbaths in the nude, I couldn’t help think. But she moved in another position already, a bit like mine and pulled down her sweater.

When I heard the intercom calling my destination being the next station I got up with my back pack and moved to the doors. I heard some rustling behind me.  The train stopped and I got out, but I couldn’t resist having a last look on the couple. She had taken my place and snuggled up against him. He had his arms around her and they kissed.

====================================================

A Dog in the Brewery

We love visiting breweries. So it was not unexpected that you could find my wife and me on this afternoon enjoying a blonde beer in the brewery in my hometown. It was not very crowded, it just felt cosy.  The people were four elderly men accompanied by a woman of half their age. They were testing the different types of beer and the woman was sounding like someone with a lot of knowledge about this.  Maybe she had been brewing herself, like my wife.  She had attracted the attention of the brewer himself who was testing a new  product with two other men.

At another table was a couple of around fifty with their son who seemed to have Down’s Syndrome. Except for his looks you couldn’t tell his problems. His parents didn’t have to consider this a long time before they gave him a beer too.

In came a father of around forty and his son of around sixteen. In everything it showed that this should be special for the boy. It felt like this was a divorced father and his son. This was his weekend and father had decided to make it worthwhile. So the boy was going to have his first beer.  They had some discussions before ordering, the bartender gave advice.  And he came with a bowl of water for the dog that the father had bound to the table.  The boy shook his head, “Did you really have to take Tommy along?  Now you will have to go out of the bar again soon.”  The father assured him that the dog was okay; he had delivered a short while ago, according to the man. And where else could the dog have stayed?

The brewer walked up to the lady who knew so much about beer and poured some of the new brew in her empty glass.  She had a good look at it,  swirled  her glass, nodded approvingly and then had a careful sip.  She made a gesture to the brewer: PERFECT! He poured some more in her glass and toasted with her.  One of the elderly men had ordered a new round for the others.

We asked the bartender for two more beers and after a short time the parents with the handicapped child did the same.  The divorced father had emptied his glass and was waiting for the boy to finish his. He asked him if he liked it. The boy seemed to shiver a bit and said that it was lovely.  So the man wanted him to finish his beer, so they could have another one.  The boy asked his father to take it easy on him and just order one for himself.  This he did.

When the beer had been delivered, the father stood up and went to the bartender.  He came back with a bundle of paper towels and started to pick up something on the floor next to the dog.  He went with the bundle to the toilets and then emptied his glass in one gulp.  “Come, we go” he said to his son.

The boy’s glass still wasn’t finished but he didn’t complain.  He unbound the dog and they went.

The other guests sniffed the air and drank their beers in great haste.  We did the same.  The brewer went to the brewery rooms behind the bar.  The stench was really awful.  Within five minutes the whole bar was empty for the bartender.

====================================================================

Interfering

For years and years two blackbirds consider my garden as their territory. At least I think these are the same birds. They can reach the age of five, so there must have been a change a few times.

In the spring they are both very busy collecting material for their nest, that must be very near my garden. After that they almost seem to have disappeared. But in a few weeks they return and bring their children along. These look almost fat and are quite clumsy in their flying and walking the first days you see them. After a few weeks you will only see the couple again, the young have moved out.

This spring it was the first time Henry the cat was here. Why she’s called “Henry” is another story.

Till that morning I only had seen her chasing flies and without any success.

We were having a late breakfast in the weekend when we were disturbed by a lot of noise coming from the garden. Henry was being attacked by the blackbird couple. She almost crawled on the ground forward while the birds were swooping towards her head. Then I saw the reason for the aggression of these birds. A little one was trapped near the shed. It must have been very frightened, it seemed to be paralyzed by fear for the cat.

Should I let nature have its way? I could be very proud of Henry. Catching her very first prey.

But this seemed to be a very unfair thing to me. It was like former Russian president Yeltsin on bear hunt. His staff would drug a few, so they would not be able to move a muscle. In that way he was able to shoot them. I’m being told this method is used for hunting parties of some Royal families as well.

Anyway, I couldn’t bear to watch this and got out in the garden. I grabbed Henry and put her inside.

She almost went crazy and jumped against the window in the door.

The young bird was still sitting in the same position. It’s brothers and sister were on the fence with the mother. Papa went down to the ground to the little one and sort of showed what to do. He flew from the ground back to the fence. The little one’s heart seemed to beat in it’s throat and it didn’t follow.

It took more than five minutes before it was able to move again. There were some trials to lift off the ground, but they didn’t succeed. The father flew to the ground and back on the fence and sort of yelled. Finally it took off and made it to the pick-nick table that is in my garden. After a little rest the next step was made. It landed next to the father.

After I got a new cup of coffee the whole family was gone.

Henry was still jumping in front of the door, it was now okay to let her go. Immediately she ran over to the place where the young bird had been trapped and sniffed all around.

The father reappeared on the fence and looked at this scene for a while. Then he flew away with a sound that really resembled laughter.

=====================================================

Relaxed Life and Proper Money

While staying at La Tour Blanche in Forest-Montiers we noticed that there is not a single restaurant or bar in the little village. A lot of houses are empty. According to Wikipedia 547 people live here. But that was in 1999. It must be much less nowadays. It’s a typical situation for the north of France. Of course you can find enough places where you can eat or drink in the bigger towns like Rue, Saint Valerie sur Somme or Abbeville. We thought there would be more than this. Exploring a region is something we always like to do.

So we drove on a warm and sunny day to Ponthoile. It seemed even smaller than Forest-Montiers. In the middle of the village you can see 4 different roads, they lead to Forest-Montiers, Morlay, Nouvion and Noyelles. Very cleverly at that spot is a building that reminds of an inn, a public-house. Nowadays you can get your petrol over there from an ancient petrol station. There’s plenty of room in the building so there’s also a bar and a little shop where the local people do their shopping.

After getting some petrol we decided to sit in front of the building enjoying a perfect draught beer. You could see that the elderly lady behind the counter and bar was very experienced as a bartender.

She was very friendly and we almost felt tempted to stay inside. But the weather was so nice on this wonderful day in the spring of 2009 that this would have been a shame to do.

While we enjoyed our beer, people who came on bicycles followed our example. They sat down with a lemonade, spoke a sort of Flemish and went again very soon. On the right we could see the graveyard where a few people were taking care of some graves. An official looking man was walking around with a bundle of keys that would have made a warder jealous. He checked the doors of a sort of shed that was next to a perfect lawn. On that lawn we saw two elderly couples laying in the grass.

A man from that company walked over with two empty beer glasses. Before he could reach the building a car stopped. The driver let the engine run and a woman ran inside and came back within seconds with a few packets of cigarettes. She jumped in the car and they drove away. The bartender/shopkeeper must be very efficient. The man went in the building and came back with two filled glasses and walked back to his company. I have never seen this before. In the Netherlands you would get plastic cups, they would never trust you with glasses. And I couldn’t imagine that this would happen in the UK either.

After four more cars with men behind the steering wheel and women who ran in for cigarettes, the man came back and delivered the glasses to the bartender/shopkeeper. She obviously knew who to trust.

When I wanted to pay, a woman and a girl came with a car and went into the shop department.

They didn’t need to wait a long time, they were served very quickly and yet in a very friendly way.

I had to pay for the petrol and the beer so decided to pay with my credit card. The lady frowned when she saw the card and sighed. She messed a bit with the machine and nothing happened. She wiped my card, sighed and tried again. But nothing happened. She said a French word I didn’t know. Probably not a very nice word.

From the back of the building an elderly man and a younger woman appeared. The man took the card from her hands and also the machine and then I had paid within seconds. The lady said that she was never going to get used to this modern paying. Why did people not pay with proper money? The girl and the man laughed out loud. When we left the lady was still shaking her head.

=====================================================================

The End of the World

It was July 29 1960 and we were heading to our most beloved spot in the forest, Sandy Plains. The children living on the edge of the forest were used to going in groups and walking long distances. On this day our group consisted of my oldest sister and me, the boy and girl from next door and a girl of the same age as my sister. My sister was 12, the rest was of the same age or 2 years younger. I was 3 years younger and I was very pleased that they allowed me to go along.

When we reached Sandy Plains, we decided to stay there the rest of the day. Like always we had taken sandwiches along and a bottle of water. Our mothers knew that we would stay away for some time. The weather was wonderful and the sand almost reflected the light from the sun. It was very white and clean; there should have been sea to complete a perfect beach. Instead it was surrounded by ancient pine trees.

We all sat down on the warm sand and suddenly the boy from next door started to talk about the end of the world. According to what he heard we would all perish at 2 pm. Nobody had a watch, but we knew it was about noon, so we had some time left. We discussed how it would happen. I had read about the atom bomb in a political magazine and about the crisis in Germany where the West was in dispute with the Soviets. There were predictions about the cutting off of Eastern Germany. I knew everything about Nikita Khrushchev, Walter Ulbricht, John Kennedy and Willy Brandt, the mayor of Berlin. In the Congo were troubles around Patrice Lumumba and I had seen pictures of Belgian and French people fleeing to Europe because of the violence.

My sister said that there was nothing to be afraid of, we always stayed out of fights. The Netherlands couldn’t do anything, we had no atom bomb. The prime minister, Jan de Quay, was only worried about the wild youngsters called “nozems”. They scared the elderly with their noisy mopeds and their black leather jackets and greasy hair. My sister was sure she would never have a boyfriend like that. The other girls agreed about that. I didn’t know about this. My knowledge came from that political magazine that nobody read in our family and it had nothing about these youngsters.

Every week we got a set of second hand magazines. It belonged to a system that gave you the right to read the magazines in a week and after that they were replaced by newer. We had the cheapest edition: our magazines were 6 weeks old and very much maltreated but we were allowed to keep them and get a newer set anyway. I was supposed to be happy with Donald Duck and another magazine with comics. The other magazines were mostly meant for housewives except for a silly one. It had pictures in black and white of girls in bathing suits. They were film stars and posed in Cannes or such places. And there were jokes about women who had to go to the doctor. It was not my cup of tea. So I read this political thing that always looked like new.

We all agreed that we must be on one of the better spots on earth. We could be seen from outer space and be saved. The boy from next door thought God might do this, the oldest girl knew for sure the Martians would come. But maybe they were no saviors but attackers. My sister knew that if there was going to be a Flood, we would be safe. We were on quite a high point on Sandy Plains.

We ate our sandwiches and drank the water and the sun kept on shining. We all lay down, became quiet and almost slept for some time. The sun was much lower in the sky when we looked around us again. We were sure the hour was later than 2 PM. So we were spared if anything had happened. We decided to go home and see if everything was still there.

Near home we could hear some mothers calling that dinner was ready.

============================================================

My Special Gift

Anxiety made it impossible for me to sleep that night. Still I was very much awake when I was standing in the hall of the airport waiting for you the next morning. I felt sharp as a needle. It was so unexpected, I thought we would be sending messages and chatting on line a lot longer. I was afraid to push too hard and to scare you away by doing this. So it wasn’t me who decided to meet in the real world, you were the brave person who did this.

So here I was with the feeling that my heart was beating in my throat. What if you didn’t show up, things like that happen often. Relationships starting on the internet are not always very successful.

I had read very sad stories about people who had sent everybody away for weeks because their internet friend would come over and who ended up being alone for weeks feeling miserable.

But suddenly: there you were and it was so easy to recognise you. You looked like a gift waiting to be unwrapped, so lovely. I ran over to you and there was no hesitation: we kissed full on the lips.

And you pushed your body to mine. I held you and we really felt like we were fitting perfectly together. After some minutes I realised it was no use standing over here for ages. So I grabbed your suitcase with one hand and with the other I grabbed yours. I was not letting you go any more!

We walked over to the car park, stopping now and again to look at each other and to give a new kiss. We hardly talked, just managed to talk about the flight you had. I had to let go of your hand to pay the parking meter, but I immediately grabbed it again. When we reached the car I suggested with a croaky voice that we were going straight to the bat cave. You agreed eagerly.

In the car I suggested putting on the radio but you said you wanted to concentrate on the sight of me and the landscape. We drove on the highway and I really wanted to get home quicker instead of the 45 minutes it normally takes to go from the airport to home. My hand got on your knee and you let yourself slide downwards from your chair a bit. My hand reached the border of your stocking and found your soft skin.

Next to me a horn honked. Maybe I got too close to the truck next to me or maybe the driver was jealous. I withdrew my hand and said I didn’t want to ruin our first time together with a car accident. So I would concentrate on the road again. You agreed and sat up straight again. It did take us the normal 45 minutes and we were not very talkative, I could only feel this painful longing to hold you close to me.

We were very happy to finally arrive and we rushed into the house. I wanted to offer to show you the house, but we just ran upstairs. How you knew, I don’t know, but you immediately chose the right door to my bedroom.

I scraped my throat and suggested that I should unwrap my present and started to fumble with some buttons. You took over hastily while I concentrated on undressing myself.

We jumped in bed at the same time and our bodies found each other. We kissed like I never had kissed before and our bodies got tangled up in a knot that I thought of being impossible to be ever undone.