I took a seat in the sun by a small table on the corner of the street. The street was on a hill. I ordered coffee and a Camembert sandwich. I’m in Paris. Montmartre to be precise. Rian, our show was to open in Theatre de la Ville in two days. This was a day off. The coffee tasted just right with the baguette. I’m living the dream!

People look at each other here. There is a conversation in a glance. Our hotel is beside the Montmartre cemetery. I like being close to these places. I get a sense of peace where the truth of impermanence lives.

The avenue is lined with slim and tall trees with luminous green leaves. At night we took ourselves up to the steps of Sacré Couer (http://www.sacre-coeur-montmartre.com/). Our music drew the attention of local youth who expressed themselves with great energy and humour. Most appear to be from Tunisia. Soon we were seeing each other through our music. Wide eyes and open arms marked the close of a meeting of cultures ages and minds. We felt proud of our people. My Irish drum is the same shape as the mainstay North African equivalent. Apart from the absence of a hole! We laughed! The Tunisian drum has a hole in the frame where the player puts the thumb.

There is a hotel beside the stage door that looked very inviting to my eye. I decided to try it out after our second night. As a stranger I was made welcome there. This was a place where one might have bumped into Piaf, back on her day.

We brought our music in there later and Michael our director took to the table and calmly placed the sole of his foot on the ceiling!

Paris in the spring! You could feel the energy of the creative muse here in Montmartre. Everything has a beat and although we are in the city, the physicality of the land seemed to sing through the place…..