Arc of a Life: Escapades of an Adventurer by Andrew Reilly;

Author:Andrew Reilly;
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Mint Associates Ltd
Published: 2021-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-FOUR

A Moveable Feast

“Paris is a Moveable Feast.” ~Earnest Hemingway

THE ROTARY SCHOLARS WHO would be studying in Paris arrived together by bus, and we then set off on our own to find accommodations for ourselves. I had an American friend with dual citizenship who had an apartment where I stayed for the first night, and in the morning I set off to make my own living arrangements. With my final check from Rotary I went to the bank I had used before in Aix-en-Provence, Credit Lyonnais, but they would not open an account for me because I did not have a fixed address yet. I explained that I could not get a fixed address until I could get the funds from the check to pay the first month’s rent plus the security deposit, but to no avail. C’est la France.

I did have the office address of the president of one of the Paris Rotary clubs, however, and after leaving the bank I paid a visit to him in his office. There I met a young woman, Dominique by name, who was one of his sales ladies and whom I would later come to know quite well. Quite well. Monsieur Roche not only lent me money to move into an apartment, but also asked the lady mentioned to bring out a bottle of Champagne with three glasses with which to welcome me to Paris. He then took the three of us out for lunch. C’est aussi la France.

After lunch Dominique and I stopped at a kiosk to buy a newspaper with ads for apartment rentals, and from her office I phoned one of them. The apartment was in a suburb just outside the city with only a ten-minute walk to the metro, and it turned out that a gay couple had one of the rooms for rent. I figured this would be quite comfortable, as gay men tend to be clean, tidy, and civilized, and also give great parties. They found me to be sufficiently civilized as well, so we shook hands and I moved in that afternoon.

One often hears stories about how rude Parisians are to Americans, but I never experienced that (the bankers were quite polite in refusing to open my account, for example) and this perhaps is because my French is good and they like my accent, the way Americans often find a French accent charming when they speak English. What seems to matter most, as in so many other aspects of human life, is openness and appreciation, both of which seem to go hand and hand with charm.

Americans at times appear to the French as innocent big children, and they envy that in their jaded old-world hearts, although they would rarely admit it. Here is another surprise. French women often prefer American lovers, despite what you may have heard. Why? I can sum it up in one word—enthusiasm!

Following in Hemingway’s footsteps, I intended to make Paris a moveable feast of my own. I browsed the aisles of the bookstore, Shakespeare and Company, imagining conversations between Hemingway and Ezra Pound and F.

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