Moving day in Paris and Gyorgyi mentions to a friend that I can drive a car, a truck, a carg0-van. She adds, its most likely this crazy Canadian can even drive a spaceship.With that in mind, she christens our moving shuttle “The Spaceship”.
After years living in large European cities with convenient and reliable underground transportation. Gyorgyi finds it a task driving a car let alone the Death Star-2.
In my life I’ve moved with three kids & various animals fourteen times over the years. My experience in the building and design industry, not to mention owing a trailer, taught me a few lessons with commercial vehicles. Try backing a trailer hitched to a temperamental SUV into a 15′X15′ camping spot. On one end the river, the other two sides fringed by 5′ drops. Throw in three embarrassed teenagers directing and redirecting as I reverse for the umpteenth time in order to get it positioned for optimal camping enjoyment. Now that’s an undertaking worthy of an honorary PhD or at the very least a pair of plastic wings. Driving our little spaceship through the melodramatic streets of Paris could be a challenged, however with todays GPS and a focused co-pilot, I’m sure we’ll manage without incident. (famous last words)
Gyorgyi’s old apartment is fully packed devoid of personal ornamentation. The perimeter walls seemingly inching us out with the boxes and overstuffed storage bags used to transfer ones life between addresses.
Our brawny crew members in the cross Paris move are Philipe a colleague/friend of Gyorgyi and the spry Jonathan, a friend of a friend. As luck would have it Philipe is an experience Spaceship driver and I willingly hand over my command post.
As Captain of the Starship Enterprise, Philipe navigates the intricate streets of Paris in our dwarf galaxy with 2 count’em 2 First-Mates. Our Parisian captains english is excellent however his delivery of one word in particular has us doubled over in laughter on the complex highway orbiting Paris know as le Périphérique. The word in question – FOCUS. As we approach a crucial interchange, Gyorgyi and I, who are in possession of the GPS, are not paying attention to the road and fail to alert Philipe of an upcoming, quiet significant off-ramp. On our second rotation around what seems like planet earth, Philipe reminds us as responsible co-pilots we must “FOCKHAS ladies FOCKHAS”.
I’m sure you can imagine the entertaining tendrils his pronunciation of FOCKHAS produce within the fatigued minds of two easily amused friends. The remaining move through Paris changes from FOCKHASED to hilarious for the balance of the afternoon. By the time we break for lunch I’m sure Philipe is reevaluating his kind offer of helping Miss Gyorgyi and her one woman comedy crew with the move.
Hours later as our hectic day winds down we watch the evening sky as it dances with hues of rose & violet. As if on cue the Basilique du Sacré-Cœur is illuminated for nighttime viewing. Our exhausted limbs ignore the remaining unpacked boxes scattered throughout the apartment. Victory is ours, Gyorgyi’s Paris move is accomplished…..
Our final mission: to stop giggling over the day and FOCKHAS on sleep.