Mary and Gilles visited us several times while we were in Paris. It's about a 35-minute train ride from the local train station at Bois-le-Roi to Paris, so Mary and Gilles came in last Saturday and we had a wonderful dinner together. They took the last train back to Chartrettes, which left Paris at 12:30 in the morning and took probably an hour to get there; that's friendship!
Then Tuesday they came into Paris in the morning. Gilles and I went to the famous Paris Automobile Show and, though I'm not the car nut I once was, I had a great time with Gilles, looking at all the lastest, greatest and sleekest cars ever. My favorite was, as always, a Ferrari, but at 368,000€ (somewhere north of half a million dollars) I decided to forego buying one right now, though i'm sure I could have gotten a car show discount. Soon, I'm sure...soon.
And that day Laurie and Mary had lunch with Martine Aubry, the head of the French Socialist Party. Well, they had lunch in the same small restaurant as Martine Aubry. Mary said that Martine politely pretended not to recognize her, and Mary returned the favor.
Then Wednesday Mary and Gilles drove into Paris to take us and our boatload of luggage back to Chartrettes. Again, that's true friendship, since driving into and out of Paris is a chore not taken lightly. I'll do it when hell freezes over.
Now, I'm writing this Friday morning, sitting on the deck of Mary and Gilles' house. The view is over a beautiful green forest and if I look closely, I can see boats on the Seine River, about half a mile away. I could get used to this. Last night we had a wonderful, 4-hour dinner with Mary and Gilles and Jamie and Hervé - all our French family - here at Mary and Gilles' house: champagne, wine, salad, wine, lamb, wine, potatos, wine, cheese, wine, apple tart, and wine. Again, I could get used to this! I realize, as Mary is right to point out, that this isn't daily life here. First off, everyone would weigh 400 pounds and die at age 35 if this were daily life, and secondly, I couldn't afford even the wine bill, but it surely was wonderful to spend an evening with dear friends who we see way too rarely.
Yesterday we walked through the town in which Jamie and Hervé live, Samois-sur-Seine. We had two objectives: first, we would like to live in France for a year after retiring, and Samois is a likely place to do that, so we wanted to see more of the town; and secondly, to find the grave of Django Reinjardt.
Jazz enthusiasts will recognize that name, but for everyone else: Django Reinhardt was a guitarist who, along with the French violinist Stephane Grappelli, created a unique and still popular form of jazz in Paris in the 1930s. Because Django was a gypsy, this form of jazz is often called "gypsy jazz," though it is better described by its French name, "manouche jazz." (For you Seattle readers, the Seattle jazz band "Pearl Django" plays manouche jazz, and is known as one of the best manouche bands in the world.)
Django Reinjardt lived the last years of his life in Samois-sur-Seine and died there when, returning from a performance in Paris, he suffered a severe stroke. He was 43 when he died. After only a little searching we found his grave in the Samois cemetary. On it were guitar picks, left by his followers 57 years after his death. In the park on the river is a memorial to Django, and every year Samois presents a jazz festival in his honor, named for him.
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| Statue of Django Reinhardt |
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| Samois-sur-Seine |
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| Samois-sur-Seine |
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| Samois-sur-Seine |
That's so cool that you saw Django's grave! Did you leave him anything?
ReplyDeleteCarla