Old Journals

February 24, 1992

[Paris] Shared an overnight sleeper with two Spaniards and an Argentine. When I returned from the cafeteria car, the beds were made and the old man was telling stories about his experiences in the Civil War and in Matthausen concentration camp. A moving train at night is an incredible place to hear stories. Like a campfire. I hardly slept.

Spent the day with Patrick. Now I’m waiting for Lobna’s 5 pm phone call.

When the train pulled into Paris Austerlitz station this morning, I was so happy to arrive, to be here. The atmosphere of the city engulfed me; I suddenly knew that this was where I belonged. Don’t know why, can’t explain it, but Paris holds more drama for me than Salamanca or Madrid ever did. I want to stay a while. I want to live here a little.

The immediate problem will be finding an apartment. Patrick is already on the case.

5:05 pm Yeah! She just called. Here goes nothing…

Posted on Feb 24, 1992 in Old Journals | 1 comment