I’m back on a bike ! I got my bike repaired three days ago now, and have been logging miles as fast as possible while being reasonable on physical capacities. So, I did 40, 75, and today 90 kms. I’ll try keeping 80-90 a day for most remaining days, apart from a few days reserved for moving out and such. I should get the final bike this friday, when I’ll also buy a trailer and everything that is still missing.

I’m making trips in the east of Paris, which is the shortest from home to reach some real countryside environments. There are really nice places and small villages around, and nice forests too. Yesterday I saw an aerial dogfight between a hawk and a crow (a real one, not a crow from game of thrones :p). The crow was apparently pushing the hawk out of his territory by falling on him repeatedly.

After coming back to Paris today, I went to a bike repair workshop, which can be aptly called a bike community – not really a hippie one, but pretty close. It’s a place I’ve been passing by for years when I was living in Paris – but maybe they got the place only recently. Anyway, I went there for some maintenance lessons, like changing a tire. Everything was going well until I put the tire back in place : I actually pierced the inner tube when pretending to fix it ! So I had to start all over again, fix it for real and hope for the best. But now I’m torn : should I have the tube replaced, even if I get another bike in four days ? I want to go further than before in these four coming days, make overnight trips, and not the usual “go there and come back”. But I don’t want to be stranded far away either, if the tire goes flat.

While I ponder the upcoming days, there is one task I’ve been stalling for far too long already : finding my father. Hence the title of the post, from Stromae’s song :

Divorcing, quitting my job, selling my home and going on a six-months trip are probably not enough on my plate 😉 I also want to find a lead on my father before leaving. And as I’m leaving in two weeks, I have to get going now.

How come I don’t know my father ? Well I thought my mother and him were together until I was three. Except I learned just a few years ago that it was not the case at all ! They never lived together, and split a long time before my birth. I was shocked when I understood I had no idea where I was coming from.

So, since that time, I asked a lot of questions to my mother, and received scarce answers at best. And the few answers she gave me produced more questions, of course. But she never helped me understand what happened and why it happened so. She doesn’t understand that it’s important to me (or she doesn’t care).

A few weeks ago, I started searching through the official channels, as he was a teacher, but got no information. Last year I initiated an official administrative search, but the whole procedure was not allowed anymore – it had been suppressed just a month before.

So, what’s left is phoning everyone in France with that name, with no guarantee of success. He could be long dead, not be on the phone records, or not answering. I wanted to do these calls yesterday, but I was stalling again. Got to do it now ! 🙂


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