'Why is that up there' I asked.
'It suddenly popped into my 'ead. Do you remember it?'
' Um! '
'Of course...Simone's house. Doesn't it sound exotic? Think of some more.'
'What about the apartment in Mexico City?'
'Pitagoras...' and together..."Tercero piso.'
'The flat in Majorca?' he asked.
'Calle Elcano. what about in Caan?'
'Rue des Jacobins. And in ze Alpes des Provence. How could you forgot Le Pres des poiriers.'
I was now in the groove and shouted out...' Montreal?'
'13, Coolbreeze.' he came back with, quick as you like.
'Not so exotic...'
'In Pointe Claire.'
'That's better. Barcelona?'
'Diputacion Tresentos vente tres.'
'Brilliant...any more? Remember, we have to have lived there.'
'Pension Layatana, in Barcelona. Remember ze Patron?'
'His dirty apron and the cigarette he kept in his mouth that always had two inches of ash hovering? And we always had an orange for desert but they were so sour we kept them in our room and used them to juggle with and you did that trick where you threw one in the air and bounced it off your biceps. And the lights were off all day till 5pm but we didn't care because it was siesta time. And you had Spanish lessons from some old fellow who only made you repeat ' Le pluma' over and over until you fired him and relied on dear old Jaime to teach you. There is a story for every address, isn't there?' I pondered for a moment, then I said.
'Addresses like Morris Avenue, St. Georges Terrace, Castle Street and Canterbury Road don't have the same ring, do they?'
'Per'aps not, but zey also have a story. Zey are like chapter 'eadings.'
'Hmmmn! Methinks you are right my old codger. I'll make a note.