Rouen, February 1, 2003

Ten years ago today, I was spending some time in the Normandy city of Rouen. I had friends there who let me stay in a little apartment in their building that they owned but didn't use much. Walt and I had been in Saint-Aignan a couple of months earlier and had signed what is called the promesse de vente (shouldn't it be called the promesse d'achat?) on the house we live in now. We'd already sent in the down payment.

Rouen and Normandy were clearly a different world compared to San Francisco and California.

Walt still had a job in California, and he stayed back there to continue getting our San Francisco house ready for showings and eventual sale. I came to France to work out some details of the real estate transaction with the notaire in Montrichard. To give myself time to get over jet lag before arriving here, I stopped to see my friends in Rouen.

That February 1, I wandered the streets of Rouen with my camera. Since I was staying
in an apartment with an equipped kitchen, I could visit the shops
to buy food I remembered enjoying 30 years earlier.

As you can see, it was snowy in Rouen that winter. Snow there is not entirely unusual, but it doesn't happen as often as you'd think, considering how far north Normandy is compared to the U.S. Rouen is farther north than Quebec City, but it, like France overall and the British Isles, benefits from a maritime climate warmed by the Gulf Stream. Well, "warmed" is an exaggeration. "Moderated" might be a better term.

The sidewalks were treacherous but the town was picturesque and inviting.

As I was thinking about February 1, 2003, and looking at old photos on my computer this morning, it dawned on me that I was also in Rouen 40 years ago today, on February 1, 1973. My 24th birthday was rapidly approaching, and I was spending the year working as an English-language teaching assistant in the Lycée Corneille in Rouen. Back then in Rouen was the stay in France when I realized I had become pretty much fluent in the language.

The narrow streets of the old town are essentially alleyways. This is near the

Eglise Saint-Maclou, behind the grandiose Cathédrale de Rouen.

In 1972-73, I lived in a little apartment with no bathroom except a toilet that was in a tiny (water) closet on a stair landing. I had to share the WC with other tenants of the building. My apartment was near the train station, a 15-minute walk from the school where I worked. I don't remember snow that year, but I do remember a lot of rain. What they told me then was: A Rouen, il ne pleut pas beaucoup. Mais il pleut souvent.