In the morning I walked down the Boulevard to the rue Soufflot for coffee and brioche. It was a fine morning. The horse-chestnut trees in the Luxembourg gardens were in bloom.
If they did not turn up on Monday at the latest we would go on ahead up to Burguete in the mountains, to start fishing.
We went out to walk around under the arcade to the Café Iruña for coffee.
It’s rotten here in the hotel. Do you know a place called Botin’s?” I asked the barman.
Parigi era una festa...
Prendemmo il treno per la Spagna, attraversando la frontiera fino a San Sebastián, per poi dirigerci verso le strade affollate di Pamplona in festa per i tori.
Breve citazione, solo per riconoscere il luogo. © dell’autore e dell’editore.
