The Little Man has indeed revealed herself to be a Lady and a big fan of France as she wriggled for the first time under the hand of the J-Bunny while I was scoffing a croissant. It’s a very very curious sensation, a Little Lady living inside of you. And getting curiouser and curiouser.
Yesterday she put her head right down in a place I could never have imagined something move, very low down, which made me squawk and moo like a cow, but that was cool, she has a big round head now that I imagine must fit in numerous nooks and she’s testing it out like I do in bed. Good for her.
I’m on the train now to Berlin. The Love is asleep, he’s tired after smashing half a bottle of luscious Lussac St Emilion in the sun yesterday afternoon with the S and G-Bunnies over lunch. I had a sip but it gave me indigestion. The Lady knows what she Likes and Dislikes. Fair enough. The G-Bunny has a Little Man or Lady too, about the same size as mine, and she interestingly informed me when prompted that the French are even stricter on cheese and alcohol and all those funny things you’re not supposed to eat than we are in Australia. Her sweet eyebrows raised ever so slightly when I sipped the St Emilion. I was surprised. For some reason I imagined in France they’d be more relaxed about that sort of stuff, hélas non.
Then after lunch we met with the divine D-Bunny who was all flushed with joy at seeing us and the Lady, as we were with her and the Love was especially, with joy and booze and the D's face was all bright in the sunshine and we drank coffee to try to sober up the Love and the D pulled out a huge packet of Carambars and Mi-Cho-Kos which made my heart leap and we chatted and chatted and hugged a lot and kissed and then meandered in the sun up the rue Mouffetard where we stopped at Jeff de Bruges to get a box of our favourite chocolates with lots of vanillons in there though the Love finds them too sweet and then past St Etienne du Mont which is the Bunny Sister and my sacred little place and all the way down the streets behind the University where all the students were drinking kirs and Leffes and Pelforths and Pastis and Panachés and Perrier rondelles à terrasse and they smiled at us as we passed, I think because of the Lady. I’m getting lots of extra smiles now because of the Lady and her rapidly growing visibility. I even got a touch and big beaming smile from the ticket inspector which could have been strange but I liked it a lot.
Anyway the Love had a demi at Penis to break up the walk (it always makes me laugh that they would call so conspicuous a café Panis, the J-Bunny doesn’t think it’s funny but I do) and I had a Perrier menthe and that got his wooz back on so we metro’d it back to Crime (otherwise known as Crimée, but it’s pretty dodgy around that part of the 19th, so Crime or Crimey has just stuck) and I bought a bottle of vicarious rosé which he then drank over dinner with the J and G Bunnies. Then the G opened a bottle of red. And it was all over.
So he’s sleeping now and he looks so peaceful.
The fields and cows are rushing by – no drought here – and the landscape is becoming slightly more and more German. Straighter lines, less stone. The Love and I had such a lovely landing in Paris but we’re both glad to go on another adventure, somewhere we’ve never been before. We adore Paris, but it is home. I have no picture in my head of Berlin, apart from loose images from films like Goodbye Lenin. Tonight we will eat steak with the Battle ROYAL company we’ve come here to work with – what will they be like? Will they like us? We’ve got four weeks of rehearsals before we do the show – will I fit my costume? Will I get to be hoisted up on cables? With the Lady like it? Will our music be good?
Oooh, now we’re in Germany. Words on buildings read ach and ich and ahn rather than ère and ille. Ooh, unfamiliarity, hello.