Retro Blogging: Beyond Bourges

27 April 2009 - 28 April 2009

Le Printemps de Bourges music festival had come to and end and it was time for me to set my sights on Madrid, Spain. I had been accepted as a volunteer with Pueblo Inglés- a wonderful program that offers native English speakers an all-expenses-paid week in a beautiful little Spanish village in exchange for... speaking English (more on this later).

I was having such an incredible time in Bourges with Cécile and friends that I stayed a few days longer than I originally intended. This meant I had significantly reduced the amount of time I was giving myself to get all the way down to Madrid and the only form of transportation I had prepared was my thumb. On the morning of my departure from Bourges I packed up my rucksack, grabbed my hockey stick and left the house with Cécile and Alex. They were going to drive me over to the autoroute to help me get started. But instead of arriving at an on-ramp for the E09 we pulled into the parking lot of the Gare de Bourges (train station). Cécile presented me with a train ticket and told me that everyone had pulled together their money, some even juggled on the street for tips, and they were able to raise enough cash to get me from Bourges to Bordeaux to make up for lost time.

I was stunned.

Speechless.

Overcome with emotion.

Truly grateful.

And truly humbled.

These people had welcomed me, a complete stranger from a foreign land, into their group without a moment's hesitation and treated me like a member of the family for the whole week. To top it all off with such a generous and selfless act of kindness brought a tear to my eye. Cécile, Malika, Quentin, Adrien, Aurélie, Yannick, Laure and Alex represent the best of humanity. I feel so honoured to have had the opportunity to spend a week with them. I will never forget them. And I truly hope we cross paths again one day. They are the reason I travel. They are the reason I love this world.

I boarded the train to Bordeaux and watched the beauty of the French countryside whiz by as the train headed south-west. On board, I met a young, Vietnamese girl with a French accent and a Czech name. A unique combination- Lenka's parents are from Vietnam but they were living in the Czech Republic at the time of her birth. She has been living in Bordeaux for years and offered to show me around the city a little. When we arrived in Bordeaux we exchanged numbers and agreed to meet up later that day, but first, I had to find a place to sleep that night.

I walked outside of the train station and found the tram stop that Lenka recommended I take to the city centre. I stood in front of the electronic ticket kiosk and tried to use my elementary school French skills to figure out which of the twenty different ticket options was right for me. Before I was forced to make my best guess, a 30-something couple came up to me and the woman started speaking with an Irish accent. "Excuse me?" she said. "Do you need a ticket for the tram?" They explained to me that they were on their way out of the city but they had four unused tram tickets left. I offered to pay for them but they insisted I just take them and they wished me a good time in Bordeaux. Well, it was certainly off to a great start!

When I reached the city centre I found an internet café and put in an emergency surfing request on couchsurfing.com. I was able to breathe a sigh of relief when a girl named Adeline said she could put me up for the night. She gave me her address, then I went to meet Lenka at the turtle statue in Place de la Victoire. While I was waiting in the square, I grabbed the yellow road-hockey ball out of my pack and started doing a little stick-handling. Moments later a tiny, little girl of about five years old came over to me, pointed at my hockey stick and said in her tiny, little voice, "Qu'est-ce que c'est?" I told her it was my 'bâton d'hockey' and started to explain the greatest game on ice to her. It didn't take long to realize she didn't give a flying baguette about the rules and regulations of hockey- she just wanted to play. So, I handed the stick over and let her try to keep the ball away from me. Her stick-handling wasn't bad, considering that it was her first time and the stick was about twice her height. Then it was my turn to keep the ball away from her. She giggled uncontrollably as I weaved the ball through my legs and around her. Soon we were both laughing and I thought about how cool it was that travelling with a hockey stick had created this spontaneous, memorable moment.

Lenka arrived with a friend and we headed for Adeline's so I could drop of my things. Then, the four of us went out for some Thai food. After getting to know each other a little over some jasmine rice and khao rad gang, Lenka and her friend retired for the evening and Adeline gave me a wonderful walking-tour of the city at night. We reached the Garonne river and stopped to admire the beauty of the lights shining around the Pont-de-Pierre and the Place de la Bourse.

The following morning I bid farewell to Adeline and met Lenka for breakfast. She showed me a few more of the sights and I purchased a compact sleeping bag for the road ahead. For a long time I had fantasized about hitch-hiking through Europe. Finally, the first test had arrived. I parted with Lenka and started walking down the Cours de la Somme. My target was the A63 South. I walked through the city for almost an hour, carrying about 25kg on my back and front. It was cold and it was raining but I was smiling. When I left Canada I dreamed of the adventures I would have and the challenges I would have to overcome, but the truth was, in nearly eight months abroad I hadn't really been faced with any adversity. For the first time, I was giving myself a physical and emotional challenge, and I was excited!

I didn't want to start my hitch-hiking adventure with a time-costly error, so I decided to stop at a gas station and make sure I was going in the direction of the autoroute. A kind looking, older man was coming out of the shop so I approached him with my best French accent. He told me I was only a couple of kilometres from the autoroute and asked if I wanted a lift. Incredible! I found my first ride without even sticking out my thumb. The man told me he and his wife were travellers too, as he escorted me over to his RV! His wife was waiting in the passenger seat of the vehicle. After an introduction from me and an explanation from her husband she seemed happy to have me on board. I climbed into the back of the RV and sat in the little kitchenette as we pulled out of the station. The couple explained to me that they bought the RV when they retired and had been enjoying trips around Europe ever since. They would have been pleased to take me further than the on-ramp but I was heading south and they were heading north. When we pulled over a few minutes later I thanked them very much for their kindness, told them to have a great trip and they wished me the same. I stepped down from the vehicle, waved goodbye and took my first steps down the ramp to the Autoroute-63.

Shimmer and Shine: Backstage with R7 in Paris

I tried to sleep. Really, I gave it a good effort, but my excitement was just too much to be contained by the dimensions of a single bed. I gave up, got up, had a shower and finished packing my bag. Julie was awake at this point and we pinched each other just to make sure that this wasn't a dream. Then I picked up my rucksack, grabbed my hockey stick and headed for Victoria Coach Station (Julie was taking a later, speedier train to Paris).

I managed to get some sleep aboard the 8-hour bus ride and before I knew it I was in Paris! Julie met me at the coach station and we took the metro over to the hotel. We had just enough time to drop off our things and get a little cleaned up then it was time to head to the venue for concert #2. It was an absolutely beautiful day, so rather than spend 10 minutes on the underground, we opted for the 45-minute walk to La Cigale and enjoyed the streets of Paris. It was everything I had hoped for; beautiful, full of life and full of French people!

When we reached La Cigale there was already a couple hundred people waiting in line. I dusted off my old French-speaking skills and told the head security guard that we had tickets and backstage passes waiting for us. He took our names and ducked inside for a minute then returned and told us that we were on Ben's guest list. I could hardly believe this was all really happening. We got to enter the building before the hundreds of fans that had been waiting for so long. I've never felt so VIP in my life.

We walked through the historic theatre and reached the backstage door. An enormous man greeted us with his right arm fully extended in our direction. A quick flash of our R7 VIP passes and he immediately lowered his arm and raised the corners of his mouth to a smile. He stepped aside and opened the door for us- we were in! Our only instruction was that we couldn't go all the way back to the dressing room area because the theatre was too small. So, we went through a set of doors and onto the side of the stage, just out of view of the audience, to watch Piers Faccini open up the show.

A few minutes later, the stage door opened slightly and I was stunned to see Ben Harper sneak in quietly. He saw me right away, shook my hand and said it was good to see me again and he was glad I made it. Then we stood there, rocking out to Piers Faccini together. I saw Piers open for Ben back in 2007 in Toronto. He's a gifted musician with a unique and haunting voice. Ben is a big fan and once said that Piers pays attention to lyrical detail like very few people that will ever come along and write a song. The Paris crowd definitely agreed and gave Piers a huge ovation when his set was over. Piers left the stage and joined us at the side but the crowd didn't give up- they wanted more.

Ben told Piers he had to go back out but opening acts don't usually get encores so the roadies had already started tearing things down to stay on schedule. Piers thanked Ben for his support but said it was okay. The crowd continued to chant and Ben tried to convince Piers that the stage was his. I suggested Piers go out and do my favourite song of his, "Each Wave That Breaks," and Ben backed me up emphatically. But by now it was too late and most of the equipment had been removed from the stage. Ben was totally disappointed and said, "That ain't right, man." It was so cool to see what a true fan of music Ben is. He didn't care that it would have cut into his own set. Piers deserved an encore and Ben wanted him to have it.

Once everything was reset Relentless7 took to the stage and rocked La Cigale to it's knees. Julie and I watched from the side of the stage again. It was a total dream. There I was, watching my favourite musician of all-time... in concert... from backstage... in Paris.

After the show the band came out to chat with us. I was having a really good talk with guitarist Jason Mozersky when someone came by and told him they had to go mingle in a private room. I thanked Jason for everything and told him we'd see him the next night, but he said, "You guys should come next door and hang out". So we did! Jason took us over to the private room complete with a buffet of fancy-looking French food and an open bar. I enjoyed a glass of red wine with bassist Jesse Ingalls and had a couple of good conversations with Jason, Jesse and Ben. Ben asked us if we had a good time and I basically told him it was one of the greatest nights of my life. His response was, "Tonight was nothing. I'm really sorry you guys couldn't come back to the dressing rooms, but there just isn't any space back there. Tomorrow night in Bourges will be better. It's a big venue, lots of room. You guys will get to come back and hang out with us. Tomorrow is the party."

I didn't think it could get any better than this, but apparently it was about to.