Landing on your feet

The Eiffel Tower in Paris. Photo Reuters
The Eiffel Tower in Paris. Photo Reuters.
A step into the unknown proved to be a step in the right direction for Victor Rodger.

It all happened incredibly quickly.  It’s probably just as well: there wasn’t time for doubt to creep in and make me change my mind.

The year was 1990. I was just shy of 21, three years into a job as a reporter on a daily newspaper in Christchurch.  One night I rang a mate who was studying in Paris. She said five words that would change my life: "Why don’t you come over?" Perhaps to her surprise — and possibly to mine as well —  I said, "OK".  Within two weeks I chucked in my job, bought a one-way ticket and headed to the city of lights.

The last thing I saw before the plane left Christchurch International Airport was a red lavalava, tied around a pole, waved in farewell by my mother from the now-vanished airport observation deck.

Did she have misgivings about her not-quite-housetrained son suddenly moving halfway around the world?  Leaving behind the security of a regular pay packet? If she did, she thankfully kept them to herself. 

My mate was waiting for me when I came through customs.  Paris was old hat to her by the time I arrived but I was in "gee whiz" mode from the start. The airport seemed suitably chic and vaguely futuristic.  I probably even found the foul smell of the metro intoxicating.

We headed to her loft apartment in Les Halles on the Rue de la Cossonnerie, right in the heart of Paris.  I met her flatmates — a Colombian student and an Italian actress — before the three of them left to start their day.

Alone, I opened the apartment door and walked into the bright April sun.

I soon found a seat outside a nearby café.  My French at that stage didn’t go much beyond the ubiquitous line from Lady Marmalade so I’m sure my heart would have pounded with fear when the slender waiter approached for my order.

I like to think I at least tried to order "une cafe" rather than immediately and unapologetically launch into English.  I don’t remember exactly.

What I do remember is this: people-watching with absolute fascination; listening to snatches of French with total admiration even though I didn’t understand a word; starting to feel the pulse of the city which simultaneously felt as foreign as it did right.

However, the thing I remember most clearly of all from that morning was a thought that struck me clearly as a bell: if I’d played it safe and stayed in New Zealand I wouldn’t be having this experience now.

My decision to leave the familiar for the great unknown was the right one.  To this day it’s  possibly the best decision I ever made.

- Victor Rodger is a writer,  journalist, playwright and actor, and the 2016 University of Otago Robert Burns Fellow.

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