Well, I was sitting at a table in a bar in Paris...
I was sitting with a young woman who was asking me my opinions on life, love, relationships and travelling alone — you know the basics.
It was an intense discussion to be having at a bar in the middle of our friend's birthday drinks I agree, especially while the Caipirinhas were flowing at quite a pace.
But I do like to discuss the big topics n'importe ou.
I remember she was talking about her burgeoning new relationship and relating to men and asked me;
'Would you just go home with someone for one night while you're travelling?'
I responded honestly with "I'd rather spend a week with someone while I'm here than have a one night stand," and then I met the Italian.
His reputation as a 'ladies man' preceded our introduction, yet he had me and everyone around intoxicated with his warm humour and loud personality.
Gathering everyone together, facilitating conversation and ensuring all were interacting — it's quite a skill actually, not something many people can do easily and sincerely. Introducing everyone to each other and chatting to whoever was near it was a whirlwind to watch.
He encapsulated that 'Italian' ideal that I've encountered over the years; the grabbing life with both hands, never passing up an opportunity, taking extreme pleasure in the small gifts that life presents and taking no shit and proclaiming it all loudly to whomever is near. I love that.
He cornered me outside the bar to steal a cigarette and hit me with the line "Jennifer, your eyes are incredible, this colour — how do you call it?"
To which I replied "What is this? Are you trying to seduce me?"
And him, all wide-eyed surprise tells me "Ah, well...Yes!" and laughs loudly.
So I told him with a smile, "Look how about you drop the seduction thing and let's just go inside and enjoy ourselves, non?"
A little direct, sure; but you know that's how I am.
So we did, we went inside and had a ball.
There was dancing on the bar, in Paris mind you, that's how much fun we had.
And in the end I was seduced, not by 'come on' lines but by effervescence and laughter and perhaps a little persistence.
We spent a few glorious days together in the Parisian heat of August, all salty summer kisses and slippery embraces.
It was hot, on all counts.
I stayed in his white walled, herring-bone wooden floor, quartier latin appartement as the white, ceiling to floor curtains picked up the occasional wisp of wind and the sunlight flickered over the white bed clothes.
I wore a white sheet, mostly, while I was there and set up playlists on his massive desktop macintosh and watched the white jellyfish-like JBL speakers quiver with bass lines of tunes I loved.
Making passionate love on a hot summer's afternoon with Miles Davis' 'Ascenseur pour L'echafaud' playing in the background is an experience I would hope everyone gets to experience at least once in their lives, in Paris if you can manage it. And if your lover is also happens to be Italian, top that off with a home made pasta as a late lunch a stroll down for a nap in the Jardin du Luxembourg and you could call that a perfect day. With an apero to follow, bien sur.
Is it any wonder I didn't get much writing done in Paris? Or that I kept falling asleep in parks?
He leapt out of bed one morning to jump on a Velib to cycle to the neighbouring quartier to find a boulangerie that was open for fresh croissants. Incredible how many places shut down in Paris for August. Closed for the summer, boarded up for the month as the owners take off to the countryside or the coast. You've gotta respect that. Fuck it, we're outta here - Its summer and the sun is shining for everyone. Can you even imagine half the businesses in Sydney closing down for a month? Its be chaos.
I lay on the cast iron day bed in the lounge half submerged under copious pillows and cushions, of course in shades of white and caught myself musing 'My god this is actually my life'. He returns with fresh croissants and presses oranges for juice; breakfast is served, followed by an espresso and a cigarette, but of course.
As grateful as I was for all this, It was easy to leave — it felt right, and as though I had been blown wide open by passion, excitement and energy.
It's an incredible feeling, that opening up to a new lover.
He was dynamic and fun, a big personality with the added attraction of that classic latin sensibility of being able to seize the moment and sup from the pleasures that life presents you.
He told me just before he left to attend a weekend wedding in Lisbon that if we were living in the same city he feels that we could really be together.
The shock on my face prompted him to say, "You know I'm not trying to scare you, but I have to say I really think we could be together."
It was not what I expected to hear form him. In fact I hadn't expected any of it, which is one of the glorious freedoms of travel — the unexpected.
Not something that could have happened back home, for a million reasons, including how far Lisbon is from Brisbane…
A new connection has been made and my current reality is; who knows where I will end up?
Better to have taken the risk and made the connection than to not, non?
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