The Incredible Journey - 11 June, 1994

 

In 1994, I did what most white South Africans my age saw as a right of passage. I went on a tour of Europe with a schoolfriend and her girlfriend. I was in my early 20's.

These are the letters and faxes (this was before everyone had email, Children) I sent home and entries from my diary. They are all real. I couldn't make this shit up.

  

The trip started in January 1994. To read the posts in order, go the Itinerary Post. 

 

 

 

11 June - Toulouse

  

Tante M took me to Paul's house to say goodbye to everybody again.  Leontine cried when she realized she wouldn't see me again.  I'll miss them. 

 

I took the train to Toulouse and was met by Oncle R.  He had arranged dinner at my cousin (his daughter), Alexandre.  He also arranged for Sabine, my cousin from my mother's other brother, to come with her husband.  

 

I would never have recognized Sabine.  I met her when we came to France when I was a kid - about 7 years old.  Her hair is bright red and she is clearly in the whole on-the-dole*-while-I-make-art brigade.  But she was real cool and we got on well.

 

[ * Dole = welfare

I have to say that my view on this has changed considerably.  I envy artists the courage they have to live a poor life to pursue their art.  We should spend a lot more money on the Arts and support them.  We are, as a society, becoming too technology focused and forgetting to use our right brains.  Bring languages, music and art back into schools! ]

 

Sabine, on the other hand, looked much the same as when I'd first met her in 1977.  She's clearly living the picket fence life.  She wants to return to her home town.  Good grief!

 

Drove back out to Oncle R's house, which is pretty far out of Toulouse in a small village.  His house is directly on the street - there is just a curb in front of his front door - and his garage is cut into the rock face and the graite forms the back wall.  You turn directly into the garage from the street.  I am sure this was all safe when all that was passing was the odd horse, but nowadays if you open the front door for air, you might find your arm ripped off by an articulated lorry.

 

 

 

12 June - Toulouse

  

Oncle R has satellite!  Watched Farewell my Concubine, which was amazing.  I even found a late night adult channel!  Confirmed my suspicions - seen one, seen 'em all.

 

Yesterday Oncle R took me to visit his friend, Daniel, an opthalmologist because I made the mistake of mentioning contact lenses.  You have to learn to avoid medical topics with relatives who are retired surgeons.  I could not offend Oncle R by saying there was no need for me to go.  When I asked Daniel about disposable contact lenses I was told they didn't exist for people with astigmatism, so I told him about the pair I had tried back home.  He was flabberghasted.  So I taught HIM something.  Perhaps South Africa isn't so far behind the rest of the world after all.

 

We went out for lunch and I had a real cassoulet.  Yum, except they did not serve it with anything.  No rice, just by itself.  I miss my mom's cooking.

 

Oncle R and I argue constantly.  If I say black, he says white.  I think he just wants to debate.  Perhaps it is because he lives alone and he is relishing having conversation.

 

[My uncle said something to me during one of these debates which I didn't get at the time.  I can't remember exactly what we were talking about but he made the point that people are not productive for the full eight hours they are at work.  I was saying that when you are at work you are at work and he was saying that you are lucky if people are truly productive for half of the working day.  

  

It was years later that I recalled this conversation and finally got the point of what he was saying.  People do waste a lot of time in the workplace.  Meetings should be work, but they are often a waste of time.  People chat.  They stand and gossip at the water cooler.  They surf the net.  They make calls for their personal administration tasks - doctor, dentist, etc.  

  

This realization has also freed me from the tyranny of the eight hour, 9am to 5pm day.  I am very productive, and I get what I need to get done, done.  So I know when I get can in at 10 and when I can walk out at 4.  I also know when I have to stay till 7.  And I never take work home with me anymore.

    

For that freedom, I owe my Uncle R. ]

 

 

 

14 June - Toulouse

 

Oncle R took me to the opthalmologist to have a retina test.  He put a glass thing up against my eye and then shone a light right into the retina through it.  I thought at one point I was going to kick him in the goolies as he bent over me, it hurt so much.

 

I went up to Toulouse and went to see La Haine, which had been on at Cannes.  It was excellent although, without English subtitles, I know I missed a lot as they were speaking argot (slang).  

 

I met Alexandre at a little flat where she was working on some costumes for a production.  I went with her to a rehearsal of her play which the troupe were going to take to a festival at Avignon.  It was a workshopped piece, very well done and very funny.

  

At one point she is in a plane and the pilot is flying over Barcelona and she points and yells "SAGRADA FAMILIA!" and he pulls up on the throttle to climb above the spires.  It's the kind of humor that you get in a play that those troupes would bring to you when you were in primary school, but that kind of humor is still fun.

  

We had a very late supper at a restaurant opposite her flat.  As a full time actress, she keeps strange hours.

 

The next day she had to run off somewhere so I arranged to meet her at a friend's flat.  I took the bus there and managed to find it.  It was clear that Valerie is poor and on benefits but the atmosphere was amazing and dinner for all and sundry seemed to materialize out of thin air.  The only thing is that Valerie is pregnant and I think that its sad and irresponsible when you have no money.  These are not circumstances to rear a child in.

 

We were supposed to go out to a chateau where underpriveleged people live and are encougaged to get back on their feet by participation in the arts.  Alexandre was pissed off because the bus had broken down and we could not get out to the chateau so she went home and I went out with Valerie, her boyfriend Laurent, Frederic (Laurent's partner in an act called Les Scouts - street theatre), and some of their friends.

 

We went to see a live band.  The group was from Paris and they were very good.  There were 3 guys, the first of whom played accordion, synth, pianoflute, recorder, trumpet, trombone, guitar, drums on pots and the violin on a saw.  The second sang, played accordion and various other home made percussion instruments.  The third guy played guitar, banjo and double bass.  I enjoyed it, and slept the night at Valerie's.  

 

The next day Valerie was very sweet and did her best to make me feel at home.  Alexandre met me there in the morning and then rushed off to do something or other.  I went back to her flat and showered then my cousin Cedric (Alexandre's brother) came and fetched me with his friend Nicholas to go to Alexandre's play.  Les Scoutes were on first and they were very good.  

  

Alex's play was very good.  Seriously.  A lot better than I expected it to be.

 

Afterwards we sat around chatting and we got a lift home with Laurent.  Alex went to bed and I went to Laurent's to play cards with him and his friends.  We played a game called Troup de Cene (Arsehole).  I don't remember the rules.  I got home at 4am.

 

 

 

 

The trip started in January 1994. To read the posts in order, go the Itinerary Post.