Day 62: Bastille Day! I Mean...14th of July.

Video by Me.
I was dreading Bastille Day because at this time last year, it was pure magic. I thought I was spending the rest of my life with someone I was madly in love with and who loved me back. I never imagined fast forwarding a year later that everything would be completely different. C'est çomme ça, hein?
Last year, Monsieur Flaneur and I watched the fireworks on the rooftop of his friend's apartment in the 16th and although we were at a packed party with Parisian bourgeoisie, it was as if we were the only two people in the world. When I find myself dozing back into the intoxicating mind nook of the past, I mentally slap myself and remind myself that that was then and this is now and the reality is that things have changed. Get over it! Saying that, I spent the afternoon with Sebastien where we had a 3 hour lunch at Le Paradis au Fruit sipping on raspberry mojitos, sharing guacamole while playing Franco-Anglo hangman teaching each other expressions in our native tongues.
After teaching him obsolete expressions like 'That's Whack', we Vespa-d down to the The Eiffel Tower in holiday bumper to bumper traffic to meet up with May to watch the firework extravaganza. This year wasn't as cozy as last year on a private rooftop sipping Rose but I suppose everything is more comforting with a diamond ring on your finger and a promise for a future. This year offered a more carnal experience of standing like cattle on the grassy island in front of Trocadero, stuffed in between tourists, a singing Polish duo who did a smashing rendition of 'Can't Take My Eyes Off of You', a woman hovering her child over seated spectators threatening that her baby will pee on them if they don't move and a loud American, presumably from the South who kept asking "foreigners" to smile for her camera. It was colorful and festive to say the very least and I loved it. I found myself looking at May who was appalled at how ludicrous the situation we planted ourselves in had become and Sebastien who took it like a good sport and didn't scoff at us for choosing to do the absolute most touristy thing on the 14th of July. To put it into perspective for you, it's like asking a New Yorker to go to the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade. Definite points for Sebastien.
The show was what you would have imagined; there were fireworks, oohs, ahhs and a Polish singing duo couple who kept us entertained with the musical accompaniment during the entire program. My personal favorite was their cover of 80's one-hit wonder 'Two of Hearts' during the heart-shaped fireworks. 
On the way home, the traffic was a force not to be reckoned with and took us nearly two hours to get back. The accidental detour to Versailles certainly added some time to our commute. Something about being on a scooter as you are surrounded by trucks and cars in a Parisien round about with drivers whose bumpers are inches away from your knee while screaming French obscenities out their window adds an escalated level of vulnerability. I was slightly terrified and was happy to be released in front of my apartment scotch-free at 2 in the morning.
This Bastille Day  - I know, I know, no one calls it that - it's the 14th of July - turned out to be less tragic than I would have imagined and certainly more adventurous. I guess everything is more fun on a scooter.