In Search of Tourists from the East

Richard Erickson's Paris Journal - Freelance Correspondent to the Paris Pages
All images copyright (c) 15 April 1995 Richard Erickson - used with permission

Paris:- April 15, 1995 - Just as I unwisely predicted, Easter is here and spring is gone. So all the hundreds of thousands who are here to spend Easter weekend in Paris know who to blame. My search for Fritzl started at the Gare de l'Est because it is closest to Germany.

I was not early; so I missed the morning trains; but I was not so late as to want to hang around for the afternoon trains. Since the waiting taxi drivers said the buses were elsewhere too, I went to Gare du Nord. It was a mistake. Since the TGV and the channel tunnel 'Eurostar' trains have taken up parking at this station, some of the other trains that have been using the place since steam was invented, have gone to other Paris' gares.

A corner of the Gare du Nord.

Forget gares. Fritzl is already here, in Paris, despite the weather. The taxi drivers said there were a lot of buses at Beaubourg. And Concorde, in Pigalle on the boulevard de Clichy, at the Tour Eiffel, and, as always, around Montparnasse.

The ones that used to be near the Louvre in the Place du Carrousel - making long-shot photos from the Pyramid in the Cour Napoleon, through the Arc there, to Concorde, to the Arc de Triomphe, impossible - are banished underground; making that photo possible, weather permitting. Yesss. Double-decker buses were indeed double-parked in the rue Beaubourg behind the Centre National d'Art et de Culture Georges Pompidou. It was looking up for Fritzl.

Busses parked behind Beaubourg.

The sky was coming down though. Greyer and lower. Spring is obviously not a major consideration if you plan to spend the Easter weekend in Paris. Practically none of the mob in the place in front of the art factory were wearing shorts. They looked more like flounder fisherfolk from the Baltic - even though a good many of them were probably from Rome or Madrid. It was the place to find Fritzl sure enough. A couple hundred at least.

Place Beaubourg in the rain.

Rain ceased threatening and began to fall, although feebly. The east wind became stronger. The mob thinned. The organ grinder insterted a paper roll, activated the crank, and began to sing, surprisingly well; his little booth acting as an amplifier. A small crowd gathered. Coins were tossed into the battered top hat lying on the cobbles. People left: not on account of the weather but because even if the weekend is long, Paris is big, and there are many other organ grinders to see.

I can't be certain, but I'm sure Fritzl stopped a moment to listen. It would have reminded him of organ grinders in Berlin, Hamburg, or Munich.