A Writer in Paris

This time last year, I was in Paris on a special trip. A special trip for me.















I mean, just for me.

I left on the Friday morning while my darling husband looked after our daughter and I came back on the Sunday evening.

Two whole days in Paris J

Just before I left, I had bought a little gem, pictured here. A Writer's Paris ­– A Guided Journey for the Creative Soul by Eric Maisel. A wonderful, perfectly produced book all about Paris and what a writer can do – must do – when coming to write in Paris, whether for a month, three months or a year (or anything in between), on a budget or not (though mostly it’s all about surviving on a shoe string in the City of Light, because ­– ahem – it’s a well-known fact that writers are broke half the time. Because writing takes time, usually time when you can’t work simultaneously, so one constantly struggles between time for writing and time for earning a bit of money). It has pictures and drawings, lovely use of attractive fonts, and the cover and glacé paper… wow! They make you feel like you’re holding a very expensive and very precious book. Which I guess it is.

Three years before that, I had read Eric Maisel’s A Writer's San Francisco (whose looks were unfortunately not quite as appealing – don’t you just hate that, not being able to get two similar books in the same collection?!) and compulsively turned its pages in the streets and cafés of SF. This time, I would do the same in the city where I was born, getting inspiration from reading Eric’s beautiful writing and from his ideas. Writing ideas generously offered by writers always get my creative juices flowing. (Eric’s even spurred me to write this post!)

I was born to write. Whether I’ll ever get published (other than electronically I mean, as will soon happen with my short stories, nearly ready for the iPad J) is neither here nor there. It’s increasingly clear to me that I absolutely don’t care what will eventually happen to my writing. As long as I keep writing (here and privately on my computer or in my numerous notebooks), I’ll be happy.

A Writer's Paris ­– A Guided Journey for the Creative Soul. So much promise.

And it delivered.

I wrote and wrote and wrote:

on the train

in a little café ironically named “Comme à la maison” (if I was going to end up at home, why go to Paris at all?! Or was that a hint – I was at home!? But I knew that anyway. I LOVE Paris. I do feel at home in Paris. But I also feel at home in Oxfordshire, thankfully!)

in my hotel room at the Hotel Acte V, in the 5^th arrondissement

It was an idyllic weekend in an idyllic city for a budding writer. It even snowed!

Thank you, Eric. Next time, I’ll do exactly as you say and spend at least a month in Paris and go to all the places you mention and I’ll even try to write a novella in four weeks!

Eloping to Burgundy

I am writing this post while sitting by the fire. While it is at odds with what I am going to write about, its heat does remind me of the warmth of the sun on my cheeks and arms just two months ago, when we were in France for our yearly holiday, having chosen completely by chance the best 10 days of the year to get away from it all.

As I hinted at in my previous post, my husband and I eloped to Burgundy for three nights, just the two of us. I had been wanting to show this part of France to my beloved for many years. Finally, we had organised a few days away so that he could see an area that you cannot not visit in your lifetime if you are a Francophile! Which is also a region I happen to know very well as my parents took me through and around it many times in my childhood and teenagehood. I even remembered the cellars my husband and I ended up going to, even though I hadn’t seen them for at least 20 years! Memories, memories!

From Chablis to Épineuil, from Marsonnay-La-Côte to Beaune, via villages full of significance if you are a wine connaisseur, for example Gevrey-Chambertin, Chambolle Musigny, Vosne-Romanée and Pernand-Vergelesses, then to Nolay and back towards Beaune, with one last night in Meursault, it was vineyard after vineyard; red, orange and yellow leaves after burgundy-red, ochre and golden trees; wine glass after wine glass; spit after spit; mmmmhhhh after mmmmhhhh; cash spending after cheque writing (way beyond our initial budget, but then again it did include a few Christmas presents, so…!); delicious meal after scrumptious meal; street visit after museum visit; warm night after sultering day; page after page in our respective books. Carefree, wind-in-our-hair holidays, just as we love them!

Here are a few pictures…

Our chambre d'hôte in Marsannay, "Sur la route des Grands Crus" (and may we recommend the delicious restaurant Les Gourmets, just down the road!?)

















The castle of Givrey-Chambertin

Millions of those, close by and in the distance















Beaune Hospices

















































Collégiale Notre-Dame












Les Halles of Nolay










Meursault
"Les Charmes" hotel











Our room

Our bathroom






The gardens (with private swimming pool at the back)








The main square









Domaine Bouzereaux

Bookmarks

I have a passion for bookmarks, especially those linked to places I visit. At the end of September, my husband and I eloped to Burgundy for three nights while my parents kindly looked after our nearly-three-year-old-daughter. During our little wine and food tour, we spent half a day and an evening in wonderfully inviting Beaune and I couldn’t resist buying three bookmarks to add to my collection. You will see two of those in the picture (I can’t find the third one – no idea where it may be. I always read about 10-15 books at a time, so I went through all the books I’m currently reading and also through my pile of bookmarks but couldn’t find it!)

Me and my bookmarks…

‘So this trip is a success, isn’t it?’ my husband half stated, half enquired when we left the shop (Athenaeum de la vigne et du vin).

‘Why?’

‘Because you’ve found some pretty bookmarks.’

‘Yes. So far I thought it was an awful trip, but now I’m thinking What a wonderful trip!’ I replied in a fake overly excited tone.

You see, my husband always does without bookmarks. He relies on his memory to remember the page number or the passage he last read. So, as I’m sure you’ll have understood, he was taking the mickey out of my strange habit and collection. He doesn’t need these ‘contraptions’, as he would call them.

Yes but when you read 10-15 books at the same time, it’s simply impossible to remember all those page numbers or passages. By the time I found the right page or passage, it would be time to go to sleep/I would be fast asleep (I mainly read in the evening)! But also, even if I read just one book at a time, I would still have a bookmark. I love the various kinds of bookmarks that are now produced around the world – magnetic, long, short, narrow, wide, circular, paper-clip style, covered front and back with beautiful photographs, showcasing a quote or two – you name it. They remind me of brilliant holidays or special days out.

Double pleasure when I open a book – the anticipation of reading and the memory of a place or a moment during a shopping trip. Or simply, a person – many of my friends have given me wonderful bookmarks over the years. Keep them coming!

PS: L, thanks again for the ‘bookworm’ birthday card, featured in the picture ;)