Yesterday afternoon, I bumped into comedian/actress Elf Lyons at the Soho Theatre Bar. She had only recently returned from Australia and, next week, is off to Paris. I had just been to Shepherd’s Bush. I think I may have annoyed God at some point.
I have been to North Korea twice (in 1986 and 2012) but have only been to Paris once (in 2000). I think this was a good decision, if you can call it a decision.
I was fascinated by North Korea; I can’t say that Paris held the same attraction when I went there, although Montmartre was nice.
I was in Paris on 21st March – exactly 15 years ago.
I was staying with two French sisters.
One of the local schools was called Lycée Lino Ventura, after the Italian actor. This seemed slightly odd to me.
I said to one of the sisters:
“Maybe in Britain, we should name a school after Michael Caine.”
She mis-heard Michael Caine as my cocaine.
I managed to break my denture when I was there (don’t ask). Later, after having my denture repaired, I tried to thank the dental technician by saying: “Merci beaucoup,” but, because of the remnants of my Scots accent which makes me pronounce -oo- sounds idiosyncratically, it apparently sounded like I was saying to her Merci. Beau cul which means “Thankyou. Nice ass.”
I am not one of life’s great linguists.
In the evening, we went to see the English band Oasis perform in concert at Le Bataclan Club. The rowdy audience had been indulging in English football chants, a large flag of St George was being waved and there were groups of very obvious Brits. At one point, Noel Gallagher said: “Is there anybody out there who isn’t from flippin’ England?”
That is my main memory of Paris.
That I heard Noel Gallagher unexpectedly use the word “flippin”.