Thursday, 12 April 2012
Memories were made of this
On 19 June 1994, I remember the day exactly, I went out with an American friend of mine to do some shopping, the same friend who sent me off on a cookery course. We both lived very near Paris and both of us were coming to the end of our three years' stay in France.
Almost everyone I knew seemed to be leaving Paris that summer but although we had been there three years, we had been offered another couple of years. Maybe. I wasn't too happy about staying on because I loved it. It may sound contradictory, but I thought if I stayed longer I'd never want to leave.
So all in all I wasn't on top of the world that day, and a shopping expedition sounded just the thing to take my mind off things, especially as I wasn't doing the shopping, just observing. We went to the rue de Rivoli, one of the famous roads in the centre, famous names, famously expensive. Some of it, it has to be said, is just expensive tourist tat. It runs past the Louvre and the Tuileries gardens. Its main advantage to me was that it had the English bookshop, WH Smith, many times rescuing me from certain boredom.
Sue, my friend, asked my advice on a coffee cup she was planning to buy for a mutual friend. I said I thought she'd love it, that whenever she drank from it, she would be reminded of our times in Paris.
Of course, I was slow on the uptake, and the coffee cup and saucer were bought for me. Every time I saw them, I did remember Paris, but now they are in several pieces - the cup and saucer not the memories - and about to be consigned to the bin.
I did consider trying to find a similar set but I can't find any and it wouldn't be the same anyway. Unfortunately then, it seems as though the memories will eventually follow the same fate, unless of course I record them somewhere.....