Quimper to Paris

I left Brittany much the way I got there. Lugging, schlepping, cars and trains and steps, a taxi, the Métro …  It was a trip full of connections and changes.

I left Penmarc’h, and all the beautiful lighthouses, rocky beaches and ardoise-roofed stone houses behind, and drove my Europcar rental to the Quimper train station, or “gare.” I like the car. I purposely got a Fiat 500, just like I drive at home, to make it less disorienting. The sunroof didn’t open, but never mind that. It handled the Brittany roads with their narrow lanes and ubiquitous rond points (roundabouts) very easily.

Happy Bloomsday

I first went to Ireland when I was 19. Soon after arriving, I went to a bookstore and bought a copy of James Joyce’s Ulysses, which I pretentiously carried around. My parents took my younger brother Colin, me, and two of our friends for a few weeks in the country, a week in Dublin, and then a week in London.

While in Dublin we met a friend of my father’s who was a photographer for the Irish Times. He asked me what I was reading and what I was drinking. I had Ulysses under one arm and a Guinness on the way.

New essay – “Super Bowl Sunday on the Seine”

I went to Paris, ate a few falafels, and decided to write about it. The essay showed up in The Montréal Review today. For a look, click here.