Tour

There was a fantastic array of characters. The river was colorful with many boats. I would have liked to stay in Paris for a couple of months. This was some fantastic place.

The river, trees, book stalls strung along the river balustrades in lines, bridges, people everywhere, some young artists doing chalk drawings. There was also people doing copies of already existent paintings in the museums, and outdoors they were doing famous already painted landscapes and architecture. Some of this left-lot, were hanging around and sunning themselves on the sea walls, below the ramparts of the embankment of Notre Dame, with laundry flattened on the sloped channel pavement, drying in the sun.

Not sure were Nicole went to live, maybe with her girlfriend. Nicole was a whirlwind girl, a woman of romantic literary charm. She knew the avenues of the cities reputation, posthumous gossip of famous haunts, a book store where great writers had read, a bar where impressionist painters got blurry, hill top streets where artists waited to flatter the portraits of chalk-eyed tourists. This was my first real life experience of real characters.

There was a big blonde guy in animal skins, long hair and beard, with bare arms and legs, a pointed Viking helmet with horns on his head, and always two scanty clad women shorter than he, one on each arm. And I was infatuated with the doctor, a man in his thirties with waist long black hair and neatly trimmed longish beard who wore all white slacks, shirt and jacket, had steel rim spectacles under his dark hair and carried a black leather doctor's bag, like he had just returned from an African medical excursion.

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