You can find him at a motorway rest area between Paris and Germany; at a Bavarian bier festival or at a furniture shop on Rivoli street, in Paris. I met him few years ago in Coblence. His truck was parked across from my brother’s house. He let us come in, showed us his old pictures with Parisian stars from the seventies and told us of his life as a run away from his house in Bruxelles when he was thirteen, his early steps at Beaubourg place, his life as an acrobat. He offered me a poster of himself where it was written “the great Gilbert”. Some years after, I followed him in Germany to see how an acrobat from today was living. I went to Moos in Bavaria, and to the Christmas market in Cologne. I shared his life in his truck, the carny's environment, the fat Hans, the flea circus, the peak hours, the nap in the truck, the children’s smile.
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