11, rue Payenne

It was a most eventful flight to Charles de Gaulle, followed by a just as eventful train ride to Châtelet, possible the ugliest and most inhospitable station in Europe. Actually it's a disgrace and I don't understand why somebody hasn't had it fixed yet. It's been like this for many years. The French never lacks money when it comes to grand gestures and big infrastructure spending. Come on, get on with it.

But Paris! Oh, Paris! I love it. You will never understand the feeling. The sense of complete and utter satisfaction and exhilaration I feel every time I arrive. Not at the airport, not at Châtelet, but when I leave the Métro station and place my foot on the pavement. Then it comes, the serendipitous feeling. Calm, assured, relieved, at ease, overjoyed.

Catwalk

It's weird but since I left work three weeks ago I've felt disorganized and stressed, for no apparent reason. But actually there's a very good reason. I've had so much to do and I've not really been handling my priorities as a pro. But now I've almost done everything that needed to be done, and feeling more and more secure.

Today's been a good day. For a moment it looked as if I would be angry and disappointed because I was meant to see someone but she cancelled with very short notice. But instead I had a very nice evening, with some stadtbummeln, very good sushi, a nice drink and a fashion show in the open. (I do so like fashion shows, which might not be what people think.) And I began the day with long run, which went ever so smoothly.

Today I've also begun reading Wilfred Thesiger's account of him and two Bedouins crossing the Empty Quarter, in the south of the Arabian peninsula, on camel. It's a fascinating read, and as something of a desert fetishist myself, it was unavoidable that I read it, sooner or later.

Madame Bovary

Much to my surprise I did yesterday actually manage to have a whole day for myself, in solitude. I was not at home all day, but a little excursion is nothing bad in itself. It's what you do with it that counts.

The Tbilisi photos

At last, the promised photos of Tbilisi. If you click on the photo you will magically be transfered to the whole album. Go nuts!

Tbilisi

Weekends away

Since I quit my job I've had far too much to do at home. Both necessary things and things that are not really necessary but which I've decided to do. So apart from three days of leisure I've been keeping myself busy. Far too busy. But I'm coming to the end of the pile.

And I shouldn't complain, not really, because all of these things needed to be done. And I've had time to see my friends. What I haven't had is time on my own, just me doing nothing. But that time will come. Maybe tomorrow? Thursday? Oh, whatever. (Or rather, whenever.)

Next week I'm finally flying to Paris. Long overdue. But before that I think I should turn of my phone, pull down the curtains, and idle away.

A week at home

Been home for a week and it's been of week of much joy. Been working more than I had planned but not more than I could handle. But mostly I've been having fun with friends.

Usually when I come to visit Lisa and Maeby, Maeby is already in the apartment when I arrive. Now she was out and I was there when she came home and in one of the more heartwarming displays of affection for some time she ran through the apartment, jumped over the sofa and through herself over me, knocking of my glasses, and then began licking every part of me not clothed.

But I'm also rather tired since I have not slept nearly as much as I should've. But there's always time for that. Eventually.

Whilst getting rather to go out this morning I listened to Oasis. They really were quite extraordinarily good in the 90s. (What's the Story) Morning Glory ? was the soundtrack of my life then. I think it's the best album ever recorded. But that's just me. It's a pity they later lost it so completely. But there are a couple of good songs as late as Heathen Chemistry, especially Born on a Different Cloud. That I do love.

Streets of Tbilisi

Back from Tbilisi. Long night of traveling. Planes, trains and automobiles. Here are a two photos, more will follow.

The lining

Driving fast in a taxi on the dark deserted roads of Tbilisi in the night. Pet Shop Boys on the stereo. I ask not for more. My last day of my visit to Georgia is coming to en end and it's been one hell of a week. How am I going to adjust to a regular life after this, when I'm no longer traveling the world as the government's good cultural shephard?

Well, it's up to me. I have to act, and continue to live my dream.

Oh, yet another power cut. The third so far this week. Good thing the hotel has an emergency generator.

I'm getting more and more sure about myself. I hope I won't get to full of myself as a consequence. Instead I hope it'll make me more at ease and, well, less in need to show off. Still not there.

Smoke

Took it easy today, too humid for any activities requiring use of muscles. But the screening was again sold out. And I wonder why the hotel lobby (where I am sitting this very minute) is so cigarette smoke infested? Been fine so far in Tbilisi, even though everybody smokes all the time, but here in the lobby it's too much and my eyes and nose revolt. Gotta go!

The Man Between

I think the best time here is the evening, at my hotel, when the temperature is more humane. The first night alone, sitting outside drinking a cup of tea and looking out over the city, talking to Emilia on the phone, and yesterday and today enjoying the hospitality of my new gentlemen friends, by the pool. (Although I'm afraid I disappointed them today because they wanted me to say all my favourite movie one liners and I fail utterly. Sorry chaps!)

But the days are just packed as well. Today I was at the Georgian National Film Center on a visit (I admire their work), followed by a stop at the embassy (well, technically it's not an embassy but let's not get in to that right now) and then a walking tour around the old town of Tbilisi. Tonight's screening was sold out again, and more so. People had to stand in the aisles because more tickets were sold than there were seats. Yeah, I'm still not sure how the managed to pull that one off.

While here I sometimes get the feeling that I'm in a Carol Reed film, it's the ambiance of the city which reminds me of the Vienna in The Third Man or the Berlin in The Man Between. Although it's hot here so maybe Our Man in Havana would be a more appropriate reference? 'We should all be clowns Milly.'