Voici Angouleme

 

After many attempts, we finally persuaded Monica to go to Angouleme! Jeff hadn't been in some time, and it was a fun trip overall. A mix of retreading familiar grounds, but with a fresh and wide-eyed perspective. 

For the first time, we stayed Sunday night. On Monday, the village was a charming ghost town. That afternoon, Marie Claude brought us to her hometown for a walkabout. That evening, Monica and I were planted at the CDG Ibis for early flights the next morning.

Paris Museum Day

Poor Diogo was sick as a dog and had to miss the Mayan exhibit. But Xavier, Alexander, and I had a great time.

A day in Bordeaux

After spending a few days in Angoulême, the disorganization of the booth situation was an unnecessary annoyance, so I was glad Jeff was willing to take the train to Bordeaux for a day. I'd never been, and was glad for the jaunt. 

We walked around the city center, and explored the nooks and crannies a bit. 

The best part was our leisurely lunch at the charming Spanish cafe El Sitio. The fellow working (I assumed the owner or at least manager, given his knowledge of his business) really took care of us, setting us up with amazing food + wine combinations. 

If you get to Bordeaux, I highly recommend you stop by. Worth looking for.

France 2015

A year ago, though my mom was ill, she seemed to be responding positively to her treatment, so I decided to attend Angoulême Festival. Given her condition, I was to keep my trip to a week with just a few days in Paris after the show.

Her health took a turn late November, and she passed away Christmas Day. I thought it would be good to get away from my routine a bit, so I proceeded with the trip.

It started off on a stressful note: to dodge the first of a dozen blizzards to hit Boston, I had to fly a day early. But, boo hoo, an extra day in Paris didn't kill me. 

I met up with Xavier and Alexander at our usual meeting spot near Gare Montparnasse, and enjoyed a lovely lunch before boarding the train.

Xavier was speaking English only for my benefit and Alexander's (who is from Slovakia), so it was slightly amusing when his countryman explained to him in English that he needed access to his luggage. 

We saw this guy (easy to spot) throughout the weekend, and on the return trip.

So, um...why Lille?

The original plan, as part of Xavier's P.T. goals was to exhibit at the comics festival in Lille...but, it was unceremoniously postponed until March.

Locked into part of the original plan, we ended up spending 2 days in the small charming city in the north of France. Not exactly a tourist hotspot, at least in November, which added to its sadness and its charm.

Lille had lots of pretty old architecture, and pretty mid-century modern architecture. And, its share of cute boys. 

The saddest part was probably the natural history museum which was torn right from 1890, with its 1000s of taxidermic specimens and rocks.

The lovely surprise was the musee de beaux arts, which Xavier and I both loved.

And, it was the super-lean Alexandre with the lip piercing who clued us in about the lit professor at Vice Versa. I have another drawing of Alexandre, which I'll post after I color.  

Vice Versa

Xavier and I made two visits to Lille's only open gay bar—Vice Versa. Sunday night was a strange crowd, the bartender (if he wasn't outside smoking) was throwing ice at the window; many patrons were really sad/angry looking; and (we learned the next night from Alexandre) that the wasted dude who kept dropping his pants, "inviting" anyone over to his exposed ass is a professor at the local university. Vive La France!

Hardly a pretentious Euro-tour!

In late January of recent years, I've traveled to France for the annual bande dessinnee festival (larger than Comic Con International!). This year, I chose not to, because I felt it inappropriate to leave poor Aggie for that long given her rapidly declining health. Since I had no new book to hype, my primary reason for wanting to go was to see my dear friends. While that is reason enough, it couldn't outweigh my impulse to stay and care for Ags.

I have wanted to go later in the year, particularly to see Xavier, who had been hit by a car (leg broken in several places, ankle badly mangled...in traction for months, walker for months, crutches for months). But we agreed to do a holiday in November as a physical therapy goal of his (punchline, for those of you worries about Xavier, he did great walking about Belgium and Scotland, and even did a day bike trip to Holland!).

I was excited to see Jeff for a day in Paris. It's always lovely to see him, and this time, the added benefit of seeing him on a Sunday—when the shops were closed. I dragged myself from CDG to Les Halles and found his place with no maps or wrong turns. I was excited I could remember the way! 

Jeff was groggy but managed to convince himself to go shopping. I said, 'I thought the shops were closed?" to which he replied, "Le Marais is always open!" I was filled with dread, because no one can get me to open my wallet like Jeff can. I walked away with a new pair of jeans, a new down-filled jacket, and bag. He's a great shopper.

He delivered me to Gare du Nord to transfer to Lille to meet Xavier after a joyful afternoon in Paris.

The streets of Paris

Yes, this is pretty much accurate. I admit a few bits of the story were removed for sake of the one-pager. The funniest part in reality was Jeff's violent reaction.

Also funny, which couldn't be included was both Xavier's and Jeff's reaction to the excursion. I thought we were near a shop I wanted to go to, and Xavier insisted we try to find it even though I didn't know the address. I was concerned about being gone too long, and Xavier said, "Oh, Jeff always complains that it takes me an hour to buy a croissant because I get lost or distracted. He won't even be out of the shower by the time we get back."

We didn't find the shop, and indeed, our croissant purchase basically took an hour.

When we got back, Abby was still Skype-ing and Jeff was just getting out of the shower and said, "Oh, I told Abby not to expect you back for an hour."

It was funny to me how well they know each other, and lovingly make fun of their foibles.

I am excited to see them both next month!

No one gets this one

After an emotionally exhausting few weeks, and a roller coaster of a 2010, I finally unwinded enough for, hrm, I'm not really sure how to describe...I guess a relaxed state in which emotions freely flow.

So this is me with my heart on my sleeve. No one gets this drawing, so I added color. Abby suggested that it should be pinned to my sleeve, near my shoulder. I guess no matter how you look at it, one's literal heart on their sleeve is kinda gruesome.

Onward for a bit of tourism and shopping in Paris! Wheee!

Jeff insisted we cross this very romantic footbridge. The chain link fence on either side was covered with locks placed by lovers, with their initials carved into the locks (or written on them). I wonder how many of those hearts are still connected...



Every once in a while, I stay in closer contact with someone I meet at a convention. One such fellow, Sylvain, could not attend Angoulême this year, so I attempted to draw him instead. It doesn't look quite like him, the face is too long/chin too big.

Since he's now "stationed" in Taiwan for the forseeable future, I was inspired to discuss meeting up in Japan. This is now not likely to happen in part due to finances and in part to the horrible events late last week.

Early Friday morning, I headed out to NYC and was asleep on the bus all morning, so by the time I heard the news of the earthquake and tsunami, everyone was abuzz. So awful.

Obviously, events such as this can really put your own problems and stresses in perspective. That said, it's been a rough month, certainly testing my faith.

We must bury him

Jeff is obsessed with Psylocke, and he and Xavier have an adversarial relationship when it come to Psylocke vs. Spider-Woman. It's fun to hear them go at it.

On the walk home Saturday night, I noticed a dead cat on the sidewalk. It was pretty sad, but we had to move on. Though Xavier was very upset and wanted to try to bury it.

The next morning, Diogo saw me and Abby off at the train station. We made our way to Jeff's place and walked around Paris a bit.

Throughout the weekend, we had been talking about men's and women's outlook on sex. So, when Abby commented on my gallantry, I reminded her that I expected certain things in return, in general. Though she was quite safe with me.

Still not a morning person

First day of the Angoulême festival, I agreed to get up early and help Xavier set up.

The second day, I was a bit tired, a bit hung over, and not needing to be at the festival early, I only got up to see Xavier off.

He has this skill to wake up and be instantly chipper but non-annoying.

On this day, I was on a panel "Mainstream vs. Indie" comics, which was fun.

Actually, I am a morning person; I typically am up by 7. HOWEVER, I definitely need to ease into the day with minimal conversation and maximum neck-pinching and head-squeezing (reduces my recurring and debilitating headaches).

There are other sketches of this day, which will remain UN-posted. Those in the know—and you know who you are—know why.

Casual convention

This year, through some SNAFUs, we were very limited in booth space, so I wasn't exhibiting. This was a little sad, but it was also really nice to be able to walk around Angoulême and the festival with out much of an agenda.

While I was on a panel, and had a few scheduled signings, I was mostly roaming about, looking at the gorgeous books, admiring the charming village, and hanging out with friends.

I finally made it to the museum of comics, which (no knock at the comics museums in the U.S.) is Smithsoneon caliber.

Of course, I ate and drank a lot. But the long walks and steep hills to climb in Angoulême burned off more calories than I could consume, and my 30" waist jeans were beginning to fall off. I had dropped a lot of weight in 2010, and finally broke down and bought a slimmer size. And here, I admitted to myself that I'd have to drop down again.

Euro-tour two-thousand and eleven

Typically when I travel, I am sad at the airport, to be leaving behind my life and all. There's often too much time on your hands for "thought" and of course, the terminal itself isn't all that comfy.

Once I board the plane, I am Ok, and once I land, I am really excited to be where I am at.

But this time, as I sat in the airport, I was nothing but happy! Given what 2010 was like, I just sat there realizing how lucky I am...on every level...for everything. And most particularly, my emotional "journey." I really am proud for dealing with stuff and not postponing for another day.

I said my good-byes over the phone, and then boarded for France, looking forward to the festival and seeing my friends.










Arriving at CDG, I was surprised to feel sad...since I'm usually elated on arrival.

But looking around at the couples, I felt kind of alone. I was meeting up with Abby, and with friends, but it just wasn't the same.

Onward to Paris to meet up with Xavier, and then Jeff, and once in Angoulême, Marie-Claude. M-C took us to this lovely bakery/cafe and ordered a brioche.

This time of year, it's served in a similar way to King Cake in New Orleans...but instead of a porcelain Baby Jesus, there is a porcelain shoe baked inside.

Since I got the shoe, I was crowned King!—and I can expect good fortune for all 2011. Yay! I also must buy the next brioche, apparently.

That night, I shared raclette with Jeff. It's basically a giant wedge of cheese, served against a heating element. As the cheese begins to melt and ooze off the block, you slop it on to the meats and veggies they bring you on a platter. It was sooooo good, but I felt like a pig for eating so much cheese.

Fini

My last day took many unexpected turns. I was drenched while doing some light shopping, spoke French to some clerks, then cleared out my work email.

After the weather cleared, Xavier and I hiked up one Lyon's steep hills looking at the stunning views, in search of the jazz bar I had been to before. That evening's program called for "electric jazz" so it was on the "maybe" list as electric isn't my fav.

We ended up at this lesbian lounge, where shoes-off is the requirement. The place is filled with slouchy pillow-y seats and a very funny and nice lesbian owner. By the time we left, she had dressed herself up as Elvis. It would be a great space for a presentation. They served outrageously huge (non-alcoholic) drinks.

We next met some of X's friends at a geek game cafe, where we played Dutch board game "Finster Fleure" (I think). Each player gets 4 tokens; each token has a different character set on them. My character set was the dog, the scared boy, the fat kid, and the skinny Asian boy.

Later, dinner at a fancy pizzeria and then drinks at a gay bar. A patron was obsessed with Xavier's jacket (he was pretty wasted).

Oh—the cougar pictured here I saw the next day at the airport. Au revoir, Lyon.

Lazy Lyon

After my signing on 2/3, I definitely slipped into full relax mode. I slept in late, and then took a walk along the Quay, enjoying the sunshine and the views.

Usually comic conventions inspire me to think of ideas for new projects, or how to ramp up things as a business, etc. This was no exception, and on this day, my mind was scrolling through many ideas for next steps.

In the afternoon, Xavier and I grabbed a hot cocoa from his favorite cafe where his friend Charlie was hanging out. Charlie lives in London and was very happy to practice English but his real love is actual English accents.

That night, was an early night in for us, and we talked about comics, looked at comics, and then talked about comics some more.

It was a very good feeling this day, to be so lazy.

Tourism with a capital T

After an amazing 4 days of the festival, Abby and I spent an exhausting day doing the tourism highlights, as she had never been to Paris before. The path was determined by the pastry shops she wanted to check out and not the monuments.

Not sure why I didn't draw this bit: That evening, we met up with Jeff for dinner and ate in the Japanese section of Paris. We tried to get into a Karaoke bar, but were denied. We think it was a front for a brothel for Japanese business men. It was fun listening to Abby talk in Japanese and awkward as the madam at the door scowled at us and funny again when we were denied entrance.

The next day Abby left for NYC and I left for Lyon where I discovered I had lost my drivers license and had more than 700 work emails to wade through. That night, Xavier and I ate a gay owned cafe, where the owner warned me I wasn't allowed to leave until I eaten my entire plate. It was a charming chastisement.

Les Gens d'Angoulême

Not all, actually.

Let's see...clockwise from left is a Brazilian reporter (cuter in real, not as wide-eyed); woman carrying around her dead-looking baby; androgenous...boy? dunno; shaggy, scruffy, freckly guy Abby liked; skinny waiter from Lyon; cute Bastille waiter who gave me and Abby fresh-squeezed OJ gratuis; very tall guy at the festival with a very pronounced mono-brow.

Brrrr—!

Admittedly, I was not prepared for the severity of the weather in France—yet I opted for a day excursion to Versailles. I loved all the portraits and statuary Louis XIV commissioned of himself. The crazy hairdo and the leg-stance were just priceless. The opulence of the palace was a bit overwhelming, and not surprising that there was a revolution against the excess. Despite the lack of flowers (or sun) I walked through the gardens and along the grand canal growing increasingly cold.

I was wrong in yesterdays post: my dinner with Jeff was later this evening. But when I did, Xavier informed us of cancellations to our party to Angoulême. Since our accommodations are all in private homes (the village doesn't have enough hotel space for all), it was important that we find replacements or pay the bill ourselves. Jeff suggested I pump out drawings from the start of the convention to help pay the bill. I did, and because we partially filled the space, everything turned out alright. It was only a mild kerfuffle.

But, in preparation for the festival, I had to do laundry and buy some paper and pens (a bit of an adventure to find shops at addresses that didn't quite exist—or at least, not where I looked...). My errands took much less time than I'd expected (thanks to Jeff!) so I had about an hour to kill, so I walked to the islands and into Notre Dame. I knew up front the cathedral is a tourist trap, but it was 1000x worse than I'd anticipated. At least it was warm.

I grabbed my bags from the hotel and met up with my party for lunch before heading out to Angoulême!

Obrigado Lisboa—Bienvenue a Paris

I awoke early on the 24th to enjoy a harrowing cab-ride to the Lisbon airport. I meandered through the maze-like terminal, checking in, passing through security, and arriving at my first—first one there! Lisbon is very hilly and there was a solid 10 minute drive from the gate to the plane on a little transport bus, up and down the uneven landscape. Must have been a feat to build the airport there.

I arrived in Paris, and lugged my bags up to the 6th floor—will save my hotel commentary for later—and ultimately arrived at Paige Braddock's signing at Les Mots a la Bouche. Paige gets oddly stressed out about signings and boothings, but she did great and had a nice turnout! The next day, I bummed around town, did some light shopping, hit the Pompideu Centre and people-watched. I had dinner with Jeff, too, but that sketch is on the next spread. Until tomorrow!

Au revoir

See what a difference inking everything makes? My time in Paris was tourism-packed, and I made a point to see things I had not seen before: Latin Quarter, Palais and Jardin du Luxembourg, Montmartre, Sacre Coeur, the Victor Hugo square place. So many cute guys walking about, sunning themselves. Of course, I don't fare so well in the sun. Mid-night, I awoke and my arm (which falls asleep often during the nights) had fallen asleep worse than ever before. I couldn't feel it all the way up to my shoulder. I was freaking out a little, and it took a long while for any sensation to return. My flight home was uneventful.