05 Sep 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.
09/05 Montpellier, Spain
As we crossed into Montpellier, we were followed by a young Austrian girl after crossing paths on the platform. The three of us wandered through the gardens and down along the Roman aqueduct. Eventually we ended up strolling down the narrow streets gazing into the many store windows. I was attracted to an antique brass figure of a dancer, very Degas. It was absolutely gorgeous and about a hundred years old or so I was told with a price tag to match. I managed to haggle down their asking price about thirty percent and gave it a second thought, but then discovered they only accepted cash and the bank was closed through lunch. I took that as a sign. Jim and our young lady friend were across the way at the Brasserie. Jim was purchasing a pair of decorative eggs and while I waited for his purchase to conclude I wandered across the street into a marionette’s shop. It was cluttered in curious items of all different colors and shapes. My eye was attracted to a kaleidoscope by Apres Ca Pluie. What interested me was that it did not use pieces of colored glass to create its rainbows but clear glass. It utilized the surrounding colors to make its mural. It dawned on me that it was the perfect souvenir so I bought it. I carried it into Nimes and when I located the post I wrapped it up and sent it home.
We wandered about the countryside like on a kind of scavenger hunt, through Marseille, Alxen Provence and Toulou. After a few days we ended up in Aries. Down along the river’s edge I found what I was looking for, another Picasso museum. I enjoyed the way the exhibit was sequentially numbered and laid out to the progression from drawing to porcelain. It was worth the trek. I tried to persuade Jim to check out a small hostel along the Rivera named “Letrajas” but it required us to take a private train off the main line out of Cannes. When we reached Cannes we made a few attempts to call ahead a secure a reservation but had no luck getting through. I didn’t think it wise to blindly spend money on train ride that could turn into a quick round trip so we decided to hang around Cannes for the day instead.
It was mid evening and we were still searching for a room through the streets of Nice. I knew my way around but that didn’t help. Eventually we crossed paths with a young man who explained that he had a friend that knew a guy who had a cousin who was married to a guy who runs a place that he thought would have vacancies. Typically the ingredient for an unsavory long walk but it was at this point the only choice we had. We made a phone call and followed the directions we were given. Well they sounded easy enough but it did take us some time to find the place and when we got there the rates were a bit higher than had been quoted over the phone. If I wasn’t so tired and it wasn’t so late we wouldn’t have stayed there on principle alone, and I’m sure that that’s what they were counting on. We ended up on the fourth floor as close to the roof as possible. The rooms ceiling were about seven feet and slopped down to four feet over the beds.
The guitar was obviously not well and could no longer hold a tone so I removed the strap from her. I planned on keeping it as a token of our relationship and placed her broken body over an air vent extending from the roof just above our window’s ledge. Then we headed out for dinner but, damn, Jim was impossible to get along with. He didn’t want to eat here so we walked up the street to another place and he didn’t want to eat there either. It was like riding a carousel. I told Jim I was just going to leave to go sleep if we were going to keep walking up and down the street. “Pick a fucking place. Chinese food again! Well there’s an unexpected change of pace!” Once the meal came he disliked the taste, got all bent out of shape and continued on loud enough to not only offend the staff but to make me feel uncomfortable. All my entrees still hadn’t been delivered. “Jim if you don’t like the food send it back to the kitchen politely and preferably after they bring everything to the table. If you don’t like the service, don’t leave a tip.” Jim perceived that advice as an invitation to spew all over the place. He just stood up on his soap box, called out a lot of names and four letter words. I was either too tired to do anything or maybe I had just gotten to the point where I could successfully tune it out. I did tell Jim that I would no longer tolerate his childish behavior anymore and told him point blank that if he felt that way he should just go on his own merry way and save me the trouble, but one more issue no matter how small I’m gone. I walked back to the room by myself. When I got up to our room I decided that a air vent was not an appropriate burial for such a loyal friend and guide so I retrieved the her broken body from the air vent and headed down towards the shore. I met a small group of locals that were kind enough to share a cigarette. They inquired about my broken guitar so I shared our story. They agreed that a proper burial would be by flame, so we gathered round and performed last rites.
Burning in the twilight, where the wild geese flew crying, into the night, when spring arrives in a woman’s eyes
burning in me as bright
I know, she’ll fly away from me, into the setting sun, on the wings of another dream, before the night has come
Last of the leaves have fallen and touched the untouched snow,
where the cold blowin wind, where I have been, has come and soon must go
I know, she’ll fly away from me, into the setting sun, on the wings of another dream, before the day is done
Like an enchanted gondola my guitar had meandered me through the channels of life. Even though I lost a good friend I shall remember and carry the lessons and memories we shared forever.
