Esoteric Paris

When was this first phrase that “in Paris they were awakened by the sound of a tram making a sharp turn just opposite their house”? Yes, already thirty years ago. Then he wrote the continuation of the book “ Brainin, who is always with you, or the bell tolls for us .” It was “a lampoon about all of us,” and the continuation was supposed to be connected with the appearance in Moscow of the cheerful Seryozha Sherstyuk, an artist, writer, philosopher and artist in life, who, alas, died nine years ago. And then everything was fresh and new, and the action of the future book was transferred to unprecedented Paris. If Moscow of the first part was hell, then Paris of the second was supposed to become a love purgatory, a springboard before an unprecedented paradise.

However, Paris itself was unprecedented. Nowadays there is no desire to delve into manuscripts that were probably still written by hand, and you won’t even find them. Having dismissed some part of the text up to the unexpected appearance of Sherstyuk along with Max Dobrovolsky, Basil and Geton in a cafe in Montmartre, the author was forced to return to the first phrase, with regret to learn that there had been no trams in Paris since pre-war times. Maybe they were calling in Hemingway's "Holiday", which everyone was raving about back then? (Moreover, Hemingway himself was one of the heroes of the first, Moscow, part.) Although no, the search engine does not detect the word “tram” in his Parisian text. Most likely, the tram was heard by the heroes in a dream in which it was walking, jingling at the turn in Cherkizovo, where they were then renting an apartment, or even earlier - in Shchukino, where he lived with his sister and parents in the 50s. In general, you can come up with anything, but if you get into trouble from the first line, then, most likely, you will remain there later. The writings of the new “Divine Comedy” in three parts had to be abandoned. Who could have said then that the tram would be launched in the center of Paris exactly by the end of last year, 2006, and, therefore, there was something prophetic in the book, from the very first line. Once you start writing, don’t stop.

Then Paris was Plato’s inaccessible shadow on the wall of that same hellish barracks. And it was as difficult to figure out where the tram was and where the Dome cafe was, as it was from a Soviet-French phrasebook from 1962, at the end of which there was pasted a precious map of Paris, passed from hand to hand with trepidation and love - to understand what is there and is actually visible.

And life turned out to be a system of disappointments, leading to the main loss, which you still can’t see behind the shallow passing days. The real Paris fell apart, never to be seen. Or seen in too much detail - in thousands of photographs on the Internet, in hundreds of stories and recordings. Everything turned out to be wrong. So a contemplator of real Platonic ideas, coming out of his barracks cave outside, comes to a disappointed horror from what he sees, naturally blaming his own imperfection and saying: “Oh, if only thirty years ago... during my lifetime...”

And the hero of the current novel is looking for a new esotericism, where he could hide from the tourist hordes and profane Parisians, whom it is already sickening to look at; he is looking for a certain house, and in it there is either an attic, or a secret room, or a basement, which he learned about from the Internet, and with his help he is trying to get inside. In general, without a camera and a hidden plot, you’re lazy and there’s no need to go out. And the international passport was scrapped and not renewed, because from the hole in humanity in which he managed to be born and survive, you can’t even go out to people, so as not to frighten anyone with your original appearance. And they, these foreigners, are boring and uninteresting to us.

And then you come out at random from a search on blogs for a “walk around Paris”: “We’re going to France! The train is cool, modern, even the display shows whether the toilet is occupied. But here they meanly communize my favorite player, which I use with such I was diligently selecting music for the trip! I put it on the table and reached for a pencil (and I had already forgotten about the player, because I didn’t remember anything at all on the train). A man passes by, supposedly stumbles, turns around, mutters something and staggers , leaves. I remember about the player, but it’s not there! Then four people told me that that guy had white headphones (like mine) dangling behind his back. I was hysterical, it was very offensive, and even at the beginning of the trip.

We are entering the suburbs of Paris. Where are we? "The French are not known for their cleanliness." But here there is garbage, garbage and... blacks all around! Brazil is so unique! At 12 o'clock we are driven to the hotel. It turned out that the group in whose place we were accommodated had not left yet, but were only supposed to leave at 15:00! And instead of three hours of rest, taking a long-awaited shower, we wandered around our Brazil. At 15 we were given 30 minutes to change clothes and taken to the real Paris! Here we saw his true face! Beauty! Dream!

"Notre-Dame de Paris", an incredibly beautiful cathedral, an incredibly beautiful altar, a huge organ, bright stained glass windows! Then we went up to the observation deck! Paris in all its splendor! Next we saw the Moulin Rouge! "Red Mill"! We weren't invited there. Well, it is not necessary! Although I wanted to.

We climbed Montmartre! The view is wonderful! For the whole city! Then they gave us time to take a walk ourselves, I went with Dasha, two romantics. We dreamed of coming again, thought how wonderful it would be to get married in a church - dress, music, flowers, priest. We bought a T-shirt for ourselves and, satisfied, went to the meeting place. We, tired after the road and excursions, were taken by metro to the hotel. I don’t remember what they fed me, but the room had a shower and a soft bed.

The next day, French breakfast: bread or bun with jam and tea (coffee). It was enough for us, although not everyone is accustomed to eating like this. We were taken to the Champs Elysees. Beauty! They let us go for a walk, and the meeting place was the pyramids near the Louvre!

Louvre, my dream... We saw the Venus de Milo, and the goddess of victory, and the main masterpiece - Gioconda! And I and several other people became her “victims”. At first she winked at us, and smiled, and twitched her eyebrows, in the end we turn around, and our group is not there! They left without us! Following the “sorti” signs (I don’t know how to spell “exit” correctly in French), we somehow got to the monument, where our two groups, into which we had previously been divided for the Louvre, met. Nobody here! Two options: either they left or didn’t come. Everything worked out well - look, they are leaving! We sulked at them for not warning them that they were leaving, and then they took us to Versailles!

A very beautiful castle, which, however, was under restoration in many rooms. A beautiful view of the fountains (though not working) in front of the castle! Well, then we arrived at the Eiffel Tower! Dreams Come True! We went up to the second tier (three in total, for the third you have to pay 11 euros!), again a view of all the splendors of Paris, which you never tire of admiring! We went down, we had free time. Yulechka and I decided to treat ourselves to ice cream (the heat was 25 degrees) for 3.5 euros, when we also treated ourselves to ice cream for 120 rubles, under the Eiffel Tower in Paris! We bought some souvenirs and then took a boat on the Seine. You wave to passers-by, people on other ships, and they answer, you listen to Paris and French music, and then we, incredibly tired, are taken to a hotel in our Brazil.

In the morning, breakfast, then a sightseeing tour by bus to reinforce what you have heard and seen. A trip to the perfume store. Well, there was nothing interesting there, everyone was crowded, it was impossible to pick up perfume. Then, in our free time, we went to the souvenir shops, bought myself a bag, two silk scarves, and other little things. Then we were taken to a choreographic school, where we were supposed to perform.

We drove for two hours due to traffic jams, we were late, which is why we painted on the shaking bus. We performed so-so, we can do much better, but those who watched liked it. And then we go to the water park! Huge slides, fast, exciting! I’ve been climbing for a long time, but I’m going slowly, what kind of nonsense? I think: “Where is the slide?” - and here there is almost a vertical descent! Cool! Only half of the slides are outside, and in the water park in the evening it’s cool, to put it mildly, but there are more impressions than the water park itself!

And then everyone who wants to go for a walk through Paris at night! At eleven at night, and still have to pack my suitcase! We were walking, it was a magnificent night, there were hundreds of lights on the streets! We went into a huge store with cosmetics and perfumes! Sorry for not long. Then we went to a cafe, they bought us tea and 2 cakes, I had a croissant with chocolate and a very tasty cake with custard and fresh strawberries! That's great!

And then we ran to the metro before it closed, got confused in the stations, but still got to the right place, from there we walked another 15-20 minutes through our black quarter. Everything would have been fine, but those in front suddenly decided to turn around, and well, we got lost. There are several more hotels like ours, rare people told us the wrong direction, but then someone recognized a familiar street, and we got there! It’s half past two, the next morning you have to get up at seven thirty, and still have time to shower, suitcase and sleep!

The next day - Disneyland. My friends and I rode on the coolest and fastest rides and were satisfied! Only it was terribly hot, we were thirsty, and water cost 2 euros - well, we drank from special drinking fountains. Then at 4:30 on the train - and already to Moscow. Lots of impressions, photos and souvenirs! I am very pleased!"

In general, thanks to the unknown but charming Verda tero, from whom I took everything on LiveJournal without asking. Life is superficial, like a simple advertisement of itself. Who would think of writing about Paris without at least agreeing on payment for travel there and back, or better yet, accommodation for two? Why go there at all if it’s interesting here?

The main thing is to go out with a camera, take pictures, and then, like Antonioni in “Blow up,” zoom in, trying to somehow unravel what he saw. Or enter into life from a different side - from an accidentally understood plot, as, according to rumors, the famous director himself is now doing, having gone from the outside into the unknown. But what does Paris have to do with it? It seems that this is just a word that once drove us crazy, until we emerged from the cave into this light of Plato’s idea. And what do we see?

...He went to the dark window and saw how the Parisian tram, having knocked out an electric spark, was turning away from their house with a quiet singing.