This episode of the Boulevard Days story really fits in somewhere between 3 and 5, but the exact chronology isn’t important. It’s about one of the eventful loops along the journey of trials, once I’ve settled myself in Paris making a life for myself.
I’m playing my regular morning pitch down at Metro St Lazare, and this guy stops and talks to me. He’s interested in where I come from, it becomes apparent because he’s an anglophile. A student engineer it turns out. “Let’s go have an espresso coffee up in the daylight” . He’s not from Paris, but from a small town, a bit like myself, keen to explore the city now and he’s got a book called ‘Paris Pas Cher’ - Paris on the cheap. It suggests all these places you can get a cheap meal, or free entertainment. So we start to work our way through some of them.
There was a little restaurant near Pigalle where the table wine is served in baby’s bottles and you drink it like a baby - not recommended. Various styles of couscous meals of course, with mint tea, that’s normal. Do you know what they call a Royale? It’s lamb shank, chicken and Merguez. Yes, you get the sausage as well.
In some out of the way quarter, a Borscht and Blinis restaurant where a really ancient old man and woman who slowly cooked the peasant style food, came out and sang Russian folks songs afterwards with traditional instruments and all the costume. It was a bit weird at times, but they were all experiences. I knew I was alive.
We went on a short trip back to the home town of Poitiers in a little Renault 4 and I discovered the french family way of eating for the first time. Hours spent at the table, then more food, more wine. Guy just wanted to share his culture, and learn about mine, as people naturally do. He played me an LP by his favourite French singer, Maxime Le Forestier, and suggested I might learn one or two of his songs. I was there for the whole weekend, so why not? This then became my secret weapon back in the metro because every so often a grumpy old man in a suit would heckle at me in passing “Why in English? Sing in French” So I could immediately switch and make them stop in their tracks.
For the rest of the story in order, you can always start here:
I’m sorry I have to stop a little short here for a Sunday post, and that’s because I’m still immersed in writing my playscript for a few more more days in preparation for this coming Friday 22nd when I’m hoping to present the whole of Act One and some other bits, at the very least as a read through.
Thanks to Frankie for pointing out that a link was broken in the version that went out by email last week. I’ve tracked it down to a missing trailing slash “/” in the url which shouldn’t normally matter, but does when it gets to the booking site. Oops. This one is corrected, to book a seat for the little soiree in Newport with refreshments included:
https://thelittleboxoffice.com/andyroberts/
Be seeing you,
Andy