I get to Avignon and the atmosphere is one of a carnival. Before I can join in on the festivities though I ride the bus loop twice before finally getting off at the right stop (Barthelasse) and manage to grab a bed at the Foyer Bagatelle, a youth hostel bustling with activity on the island near the city center. I can't even begin to describe the sheer joy I felt as hot water poured over my body in the cramped shower.

To get to the city center I had to walk the length of a bridge stretched out over a river that was catching the last rays of the day's sun. To the west where the sky was darkest the landscape was lit up by a gigantic ferris wheel that is calling my name. Oh yes, I WILL ride it. Once ont he shore of the city center a smile was permanently glued to my face. I don't know what it was but something inthe circuslike atmosphere just grabbed a hold of me. Bonjour, monsieur! Bon soir, madame! like some actor in a Fellini carnival scene hopping down cobblestoned streets. A french girl caught my eye just as a banana wheel popped out of my crepe when I bit it, splattering rather unceremoniously on the floor of the main drag. i felt the usual rigid New York glare melt away and my face took on the stretchy attributes of a mime, shrugging at her with a lopsided grin like some street performer who lost his invisible dog and we both laughed.

Here even spectators are a part of the show; that's the nature of the party. It is the Avignon OFF festival and the lines between public and private and pedestrian and performer are blurred. Yards from where a japanese woman is posing as the statue of Pericles a pair of french teens dressed in rags are playing violin duets while a third plucks at a mandolin. Further down the plaza tecno beats are blaring as some gymnasts put on a modern dance show. The thin streets are packed shoulder to shoulder and the smell in the air is a perfumed mixture of tobacco, liquor, crepes, hashish, sweat, and coffee. I love this place!

Though I'm getting used to the whole alone thing I wish Larry was here with me. If there was one person who would fit perfectly into this particular scene and city it would be him. Every time I turn a corner and witness some new theatrical debacle I wonder what it is he would say, and more than that, what he would do. I think, in becoming more circuslike myself, I'm channeling the Merry Prankster in Larry.

...

Sometimes if I watch human beings long enough and unfocus my eyes a bit and try to forget all I know I see my species in a strange light.

Walking brainpods.
Gently gliding temples of the mind.
Floating fortresses of thought.

I begin to see through the eyes of other animals and our bodies seem so strange. This only lasts until I'm realizing it's happening and then I'm me again and I see legs and arms and all the usual anatomy.


Well, thank goodness I finally realized I could change the keyboard configuration to English. That was driving me crazy. Off to do...whatever.