For walking up at 11:45am on Sunday, I did and saw quite a bit today. Dedicating the day to do things I never do during the week and to get into the festive Halloween spirit on probably one of the last warm and sunny days Paris will see in a while, Sébastien and I decided to profit bien and enjoy the day to its full potential.
After our tradition of American Sunday brunch (minus mimosas today) of bacon, eggs and English muffins, we watched my favorite slasher, Halloween where I screamed like a stupid girl at the same scenes I have seen over 100 times, took a Vespa ride to Vincennes for a leisurely stroll through the forest that was infested with screaming children, I mean that was sprinkled with blessed little angels, stopped for a nutella espresso a La tête à Toto in the 12th and rubbed elbows with zombies in Place des Vosges. Quoi?
That's right, Zombies. In observation of the annual 'Zombie Walk', a congregation of bruised, bloodied and beaten looking folk walked from rue Saint-Martin through Bastille and up to Place des Vosges, leaving the streets vulnerable to blood, guts and gore. Sébastien and I, ignorant to what Paris had planned on this Sunday afternoon, parked the Vespa in The Marais to pick up a few things at my apartment before heading back to his house for dinner and nearly went into shock when we were face to face with a man had a crusty, bloody lip, lesions all over his neck wearing a ripped up shirt and holding a bottle 1664. It was terrifying. His 'costume' wasn't extreme enough for us to think it was on purpose and his lack of sobriety lead us into thinking that he was a residual from a rough Saturday night. It wasn't until we were presented with what looked like the cast of 'Evil Dead' that we realized something was going on. We're a little dense sometimes.
Enjoying the scenery and comparing whose blood and horror looked more real while singing 'Thriller' in Séb's ear in a deep alto tone caught the attention of a gothic couple who approached us. We were chatting them up about the event and asked them about their costumes that were velvet, lace and adorned with crosses and their faces pancake white with thoughtfully placed eyeliner detailing around their eyes and cheeks. "We're not wearing costumes." the girlfriend said coolly and clearly offended by misguided our observation. There was silence. The boyfriend looked at us like we were assholes. I should have known better, my best friends in high school went goth for most of 1996 but like I said, we're a little dense sometimes.
For a city that is known to ignore Halloween, what I witnessed was close enough if not parallel to what happens in The States. Mission accomplished. I was scared and certainly saw things that I never see during the week. It's one week before Halloween, I hope everyone has at least one good scare. Mwuhahaha!
Happy beginning of the week, everyone. Grr.
La Tête à Toto
270, rue du Faubourg Saint-Antoine
75012 Paris
