FIRST TIME IN EUROPE

My First Time in Europe – Part 2

We calmed down our starving and nervous bellies in a local Caffè near by, where an italian waiter (one of those who fell deeply in Love with Rio at some point in his life) gave us special attention.

The building had some kind of patio / service area, with garbage cans for recycling, and didn’t had an elevator. We carried the bags through 5 floors with a lot of effort. The apartment was tiny, but comfortable and charming. It had two rooms. My uncle’s room, where my grandma was staying, and the piano room, which was mine and had no bed.

It was a rather compact room, like the rest of the apartment, and the piano occupied the whole place. I humbly placed my mattress under it, and called it home. The room also had a beautiful balcony full of bouganvilles and was completely sound proof (my uncle is a musician).

I confess I was loving it all, even if it seems unconfortable. For me, It all seemed so fantastic and romantic. After all, I was in Paris. Even sleepping in a garbage can – in Paris – would sound romantic to my ears.

My place under the piano also had lots of french newspaper, old and new, glued on the bottom of the instrument (for some acoustic purpose, I suppose). Those served me well for night reading, and a way to practice my french, which I didn’t really used since my old times at the french school.