France- the only problem with this country is that everyone speaks French & my four years of high school training has long been forgotten to be helpful, that is if I were to go beyond the basics stage of discussion.
If you’re up for surprises then visit Franky’s Bar – Cafe Americain. Upon entrance I found it was actually a boudoir with ladies hanging around the tables and two old chaps receiving all the attention. I ordered a Jack & Coke to make my visit legit – after all the front door behind me had already buzzed shut. The bartendress had to be instructed that Jack’s last name is Daniels. 90 Francs. I drank my drink as a lovely mocha chocolata moved closer, thumbing through her Cosmo, sighing every once in a while for attention. I drank, fumbled for my mobile to check my text messages. Ms Sexy finally left and so did I.
“Bon Soir? is that all?”, the head woman asked.
With a naive grin I replied, “Bon Soir, Kiitos.” as the door buzzed again to let me out.
Le Do Re Mi, Rue de Faubourg. Apparently the show next door aired out and the folks are flocking into this brasserie. Brass, Crass & Elegante. French is much easier on the ears than Finnish. The French people enjoy life. Melodic chit chat on the streets – eager enjoyment from the silence of Helsinki.
Paris – truly European – oddly designed streets – architecture galore. well dressed international citizens – all shades all tongues.
Earlier tonight I had a photo shot with L’Arc de Triomph — walking along the commercial avenue — bought some stinky havanita cigarillos – a beer and photographed the Eiffel Tower from the bridge of memory – the Liberty Flame still burning of notes missing Lady Di who touched the meek and humbled the world before her Mercedes began its twirl.
I write with the pen I stole from the Posti in downtown Helsinki at 9AM this morning. Christmas packages mailed of sugar confection for those abroad in the land of reflection.