From My Window...Looking Onto Theirs...
ParlerParis.com
Wednesday, April 20, 2011 • Paris, France
Dear Parler Paris Reader,
I apologize for rehashing the same old theme -- but there is no question that I'm in the right place at the right time...Paris.
I know this because almost every day something synchronistic happens that surprises me...even though at this point, it's pretty much to be expected. A long time ago I started a journal of the synchronistic events, but they became so regular that I stopped making note of them and just started to enjoy them.
To refresh your memory about the term..."Synchronicity is the experience of two or more events, that are apparently causally unrelated or unlikely to occur together by chance, that are observed to occur together in a meaningful manner. The concept of synchronicity was first described by Swiss psychologist Carl Gustav Jung in the 1920s." (Wikipedia.org)
Yesterday was one of those 'stop and take notice days' when the coincidences are so beyond the norm that it gives one the confidence to know that you're in the right place at the right time and your 'greater destiny' will be fulfilled. Paris has always represented this, having known since the day I stepped foot in the city that I was destined to have a home here.
What I noticed was that the book claims they lived at number 26, while the movie notes number 36. Number 26 is south of rue de Bretagne (I have visited a couple of different apartments in that building) while 36 is across the street and a few doors down from me, and I can see this building from my windows. I have written author Tatiana de Rosnay to ask why as there doesn't seem to be anything online about this conflict in the story and there also doesn't seem to be much reason for the difference, so it's puzzling.
The yesterdays coincidences took shape, all centered around rue de Saintonge. In the morning was the signing of a Promesse de Vente(pre-sale agreement) of clients who are purchasing an apartment on rue Poitou between rue Charlot and rue de Saintonge. We were one of the first to see the apartment and knowing that if we didn't make an offer on it immediately, it would be gone to another buyer in the blink of eye. Our clients quickly agreed to it, then came to Paris two weeks later to sign the first set of documents chez le Notaire (at the notary's office).
We all arrived for the signing: the clients, our consultant, the sellers, the sellers' agent and myself. The sellers, two women who I had never seen before (or perhaps simply hadn't noticed), were long-time residents of the quartier and were proud to tell us that they had recently renovated an apartment on rue de Saintonge (my street) for investment and rental revenues.
"A quelle adresse?" I asked. Quarante-Six (forty-six), they answered. "On the second floor."
"Well that's right across the street. My windows face your window," I exclaimed! And would you believe that they had photos of the apartment, one of which showed the view from the apartment and there it was...one of my windows and my red geraniums?!" Imagine my surprise?!
I had always wondered what my apartment and windows look like from my neighbors' windows across the street. They have a perfect view of the geraniums (this year their being particularly big and full and beautiful thanks to all the gloriously sunny weather) and of course, whatever goes on inside, since I never close the drapes (except in the bedroom). We all have wonderful views of each other and manage to co-exist as voyeursquite happily. And there it was, one of my windows plain as day!
At that moment, Lynda noticed that passing the table were the couple who are guests at "Le Saint-Tropez" on rue de Saintonge! She had welcomed them on my behalf while I was in New York this past weekend, so she recognized them. They are regular clients of Parler Paris Apartments, one time having stayed in my other apartment, "Le Provencal" their first time. "Quelle coincidence!"
It was another one of those synchronistic coincidences one cannot explain. If it had been a restaurant in the neighborhood, we would have understood, but with 5,000 eating establishments in Paris, for them to have chosen the same one not in the same district is something of a marvel, n'est-ce pas?
After a nice chat and reconnection, we all hopped on the same bus together and headed 'home' to rue de Saintonge laughing all the way about how small the world really is and particularly Paris!
Adrian Leeds
Editor, Parler Paris
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