A Life in Paris – March 18, 1971

I got a phone call from Dad. […] He had arrived this morning, found himself a hotel, and had taken a nap. The hotel he had chosen was 153 Blvd. St. Germain…

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I got a phone call from Dad. […]

He had arrived this morning, found himself a hotel, and had taken a nap. The hotel he had chosen was 153 Blvd. St. Germain, right between the Drugstore and he Brasserie Lipp, a rather interesting location. […] Then we came back to the apartment so he could meet Mme. Bergeret and get a quick look at the apartment. Then we took a short tour (Sainte Chapelle, the upper terrace of the La Samaritaine, the Seine, St. Michel) and back to the apartment by 5:00 PM for champagne, caviar and conversation with Mab. That lasted until 7:00 PM.   Quite a long talk, I must say. Then we went back to the hotel to wait until dinner time, but poor Dad was so tired from the trip and the time change that we set out right away to eat so he could get to bed early. That meant a walk all the way to St. Michel for dinner at Mitsuko. It was absolutely delightful and Dad enjoyed it very much. Then as we were walking back to the hotel, looking for a café to have some coffee (at Dad’s suggestion), right in front of the Eglise Saint Germain, we came across this little bank of about ten guys playing oompah‐pah jazz and a weird girl dancing and an old lady dancing with another old lady.   Dad was delighted, so was I because it was the perfect example of the weird kind of things that happen in this quarter and why I love Paris so much!

William H. Nelson, Jr.

Notes:
• From A Paris Journal by William H. Nelson, Jr.
• Bill Nelson, Jr. was an American who kept a diary while he was living in Paris for eight months in his early twenties.

Thoughts on Paris – March 2, 1971

So, instead of going to school, I did my washing, at least part of it. Gerd and I had planned to go to the Louvre this afternoon and it was the perfect day for it: wet, cold and snowing…

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So, instead of going to school, I did my washing, at least part of it. Gerd and I had planned to go to the Louvre this afternoon and it was the perfect day for it: wet, cold and snowing! Unfortunately, I remembered that today was Tuesday, and all museums are closed. […] After the movie and my quick letter to JT, I only had time to get dressed for the Opera tonight. We took the chic Métro to the Opera Comique to see Les Nocede Figaro 17 – really a great experience. The building itself is a really happening – four balconies, the whole works – and we had some of the best seats in the house for about $3.50 – just incredible – and of course as it is with most good cheap entertainment, the place was about half empty. We had to rush out at the very end because I was afraid that we would miss the last Métro. On the way out of the building, we almost ran into a man puking in the gutter. Paris does have its seedy side, too. Not all of it is beautiful art and fine music.

William H. Nelson, Jr.

Notes:
• From A Paris Journal by William H. Nelson, Jr.
• Bill Nelson, Jr. was an American who kept a diary while he was living in Paris for eight months in his early twenties.

A Life in Paris – February 19, 1971

The Blvd. St. Germain had been crowded all day again today, and traffic really backed up. Today was the day of the boy’s trial that all the protesting is over. I had heard sirens all day…

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The Blvd. St. Germain had been crowded all day again today, and traffic really backed up. Today was the day of the boy’s trial that all the protesting is over. I had heard sirens all day and we even saw the police helicopter overhead, but it was not until I actually saw some riot police that the true drama of it all hit home. Their uniform is one of the most sinister looking things that I’ve ever seen. Big Plexiglas visors on their helmets, and later I saw a bunch of them carrying big Plexiglas shields. I mean it was like a war. We walked up and down the Blvd. St. Germain and we saw where the police wagons were pulled up waiting for the students. I think the police are really fools. All they do is provoke trouble by creating a confrontation. Gerd and I had to catch the Métro at Odeon, but as we got closer I began to see another problem: one guess where the students were gathering for the march – that’s right: Place de l’Odeon! The Métro was surrounded, and they really were chanting and carrying red flags, just like in the movies (sometimes I can be so naïve!). Just as we started to cross the street to get around the crowd, they chose that street to go down instead of Blvd. St. Germain to face the police. We just barely made it across without being trapped. After all the warnings that Gerald and Pierre had given me, I was a little bit afraid and we went down the Métro entrance only to confront a huge crowd waiting. Just about that time the police must have started advancing because hundreds of students suddenly started pressing into the entrance of the Métro – not paying, just pushing through – and I do mean pushing. The students were really rude and pushed like crazy, but the regular commuters pushed even harder. For awhile we were just like cattle, but we did get a free ride. The lady said that it was ridiculous to punch our tickets when everybody else was just walking in.

William H. Nelson, Jr.

Notes:
• From A Paris Journal by William H. Nelson, Jr.
• Bill Nelson, Jr. was an American who kept a diary while he was living in Paris for eight months in his early twenties.

A Life in Paris – February 10, 1971

When we finally got away to the concert, we just had time to eat a sandwich at a café across the street from the Theatre des Champs Elysees and then on to the concert…

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When we finally got away to the concert, we just had time to eat a sandwich at a café across the street from the Theatre des Champs Elysees and then on to the concert. It was orchestra and Alexis Weisenberg as the soloist for Tchaikovsky’s Concert No. 1 ‐‐ really fantastic concert. Afterwards, we went backstage to congratulate Mr. Weisenberg because he and Pierre are good friends. Then we went to the Odeon Drugstore for some ice cream – then, right around the corner to a real live gay bar (finally), where we had told Franco to meet us. We had a drink there and then went to another place on the Ile St. Louis that was out‐of‐sight! Dancing downstairs in the cellar, and we stayed until 3:00 AM – really fun – I had one dancing session (slow) with Franco that I wasn’t sure I was going to emerge from in one piece!

William H. Nelson, Jr.

Notes:
• From A Paris Journal by William H. Nelson, Jr.
• Bill Nelson, Jr. was an American who kept a diary while he was living in Paris for eight months in his early twenties.

Thoughts on Paris – February 1, 1971

The day began early for a change , at least I’ll presume it was early – I haven’t been able to see the sun yet because of cloud cover…

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The day began early for a change , at least I’ll presume it was early – I haven’t been able to see the sun yet because of cloud cover, and the light is the same all day long. That little fact may seem insignificant, but it is surprising just how much even a city boy like myself depends on the sun! I am continually finding myself on the correct street, but walking in the wrong direction!!! I bought this marvelous little book that all the Parisians carry, but I still haven’t figured out the intricacies of when to turn the map upside down, etc . And I can’t figure it out be cause I can’t see the sun!!! […]

When Gerald and Jacques are together, almost all they talk about is what they had for lunch!! I must admit that it is already beginning to drive me crazy, but I’m sure I’ll get used to it after awhile. I would estimate that one‐fourth of the time spent in conversation in France is occupied by some discussion related to food!!!

William H. Nelson, Jr.

Notes:
• From A Paris Journal by William H. Nelson, Jr.
• Bill Nelson, Jr. was an American who kept a diary while he was living in Paris for eight months in his early twenties.

Thoughts on Paris – January 31, 1971

Finding a place to live in Paris in January of 1971 has been no easy task…

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Finding a place to live in Paris in January of 1971 has been no easy task. All I wanted was a little room near the center of town. That really isn’t asking too much by Dallas standards, but there must be 1,000 or more people in Paris looking for exactly the same type of situation. In those days of continuous searching, I got so fed up with the placement agencies here that I was ready to accept anything!!

William H. Nelson, Jr.

Notes:
• From A Paris Journal by William H. Nelson, Jr.
• Bill Nelson, Jr. was an American who kept a diary while he was living in Paris for eight months in his early twenties.