Tuesday August 10th
I slept badly - with a lot of pain. I am not going to be able to put off this knee surgery and hip replacement for much longer. I don’t think the fall in England did it much good either. Tony is hopping on the metro this morning to go to the Australian embassy and vote. I haven’t voted for years, which leads my girls to say I have no right to make any statement on the government! Honestly though - I don’t consider any of them fit to lead. Why can’t we have Barack Obama? Although even he is stonewalled in every major decision.
Though Tony suggests I come and visit the Eiffel tower while he’s at the embassy, I demur. Nothing could top the day Tony proposed to me under the tower in 2003 ( the queues were too long for us to get up to the top…where he had planned to do it.) I saw the views from the top of the tower a few times when I was in my teens and have no need to see them again…..though I am happy to look at the tower on the skyline from a bridge on the Seine - but I don’t want to spoil the most beautiful of memories.
So I sleep in. I’m almost used to the noise of the mornings here. It’s a one way street and the buses and police cars use it - not unusual to hear police hooters ( I know no other word to describe that “bee barb bee barb” noise they make) at any time day or night. But I’m woken up by HORSES! From the French windows ( naturally) I see a whole brigade…or whatever it’s called of mounted police…cute gendarmerie in knee high boots….Stunning horses, fifteen all together. They’re coming down the street two abreast - 14 of them. Behind, at snail’s pace, is all the banked up traffic….it was like a May Day Parade.
Tony voted without problem….no-one there at the embassy except an under-secretary who didn’t even ask for his passport to prove who he was. No problems..but no sausage sizzle either .
Tonight we went to the Auberge Deux Ponts. Five years ago we were just starting dinner when a quiet man of indeterminate age stopped to read the menu. I don’t know what I was doing at the door ( maybe I sensed he needed a hand) but he thought I was the owner and asked in pretty dire French what the cost of individual dishes was. I explained in French that it was Carte Formule….an all inclusive price, and within minutes he had joined us, shared our wine - and our love of all music - ( he told us he was a musician and songwriter, but he shone his light low) and it was one of the best nights of our whole trip. The food was terrific and the company superb. We felt as if we were strongly connected and had made a new friend. We met for coffee the next day and he had been to the Orsay and was blown away by the art. He was informed, creative, intelligent, sensitive and passionate about all things in a quiet shy way. In other words - not your average American!!!! It was only months after I got back home that I discovered Tim was a well known songwriter, had four or five albums, and had written an exquisite song called Second Avenue which Art Garfunkel made a hit ( though Tim’s version is better). We’ve stayed in touch - mostly through FB - and going to the Auberge tonight was an hommage to the night we shared five years ago. Alas, the little place had changed hands - and though the new owner was a charming Frenchman, the food was terrible! Mostly precooked or frozen and heated in a microwave. We did raise our glasses to Tim though - and agreed the night would have been so much better with his company. We had asked him to join us in Provence but he wasn’t able to. It’s funny how you have no way of knowing, when you meet someone, what part they will play in your life. Or would we actually want to know in advance? I guess not. We walked home with me humming Second Avenue, Tony’s arm around my shoulder as it was suddenly quite cool.
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