Out of the water....

I set out last summer to Paris, and my first adventure out of England had begun.  Katy, who was letting me stay at hers met me at the Station, and when I tried to greet her, I realised the charm of a scouse accent was lost, as she didn't understand a word I said.  My first thoughts of knowing that I needed to learn the language dawned on me.  I had a phrase book I had browsed on the train, but no grasp at all to how alien I would feel only being able to speak English.  We took the metro to her place and spoke on the way.  I got a safe feeling from Katy and knew I had met someone who would proudly show me the French way of life.  We arrived at her place and I ate my first French baguette and cheese, as we drunk wine she asked me about the symbol around my necklace.

For the last 7 years I had believed and tried to follow the Raelian philosophy.  It is a deep thing that I would not like to try and explain over a blog, but in short it believes in Intelligent design over mythical gods, or random chance.  I had always been proud to be wearing my necklace in England, but suddenly I felt like it may not be as easily explainable in French.  It has a star of David outside of a Swastika and can cause some people to ask me whether I am Jesish or Nazi.  I would start wearing it back to front, so as not to arise debate that I couldn't defend in the French language.  Plus, I was learning to start to let go everything I understood and believed to be right at this point in my life.  Getting out of the British culture that I had overdosed on and been suffocated with was starting to make me look at life a different way.  I think it was a combination of leaving my twenties and leaving the country.

After a few weeks and spending nearly all the money I had took with me, I set out busking.  It was hard.  Paris was noisy, wet and busy.  I needed a quiet place for just the acoustic guitar to carry, but I found it hard to find the right spots outside.  I busked in the arch at La'Louvre and made 15 euroes in an hour.  Was very pleased, so bought some food and a pint and went back.  to earn nothing in an hour.  And then to be moved on the police!  I decided to try the metro stations, you need a permit to play here, but I thought what the hell.  I aint got nothing to eat, no train fare back and any prospect of money.  I went to the metro close to Pont Neuf and made about 15 Euroes again.  I had some good responses from the Metro station and was quite pleased, I had nearly earned enough to get me West to Orleans and Bretagne, where I planned to go next.  As I was counting out my money I seen a big crowd gathering at a Brazillian guy playing guitar and singing through his amp.  I began to think an amp was much more important than I first thought.

 I  found a car that was going to Orleans, I just needed to pay 10 Euroes for petrol.  I got to Orleans and was struck by it's atmosphere.  It was where Joan of Arc was from and had a staunch militant atmosphere to the place.  Still beautiful, but not like Paris.  I sensed an aggression in the streets walked by 'Punkshwa' with big and many dogs.  I began to feel incredibly English.  The weather turned burningly hot the next day, I went to this outdoor festival to see a contemporary dance routine, it made me smile at it's strangeness.  There seemed to be festivals all over France, very small ones scattered about that all celebrate what they love.  When the summer solstice hit Paris they had a big outdoor brass band spectacular in all the streets.  Truly magical memory that was.  I only spent a few days in Orleans as I had managed to find a car that was leaving for Rennes on Monday, I dared not busk in Orleans, wasn't the right place for it.....Rennes was though.........