La Fête de la Musique
This was the big day, the day we anticipate each year we revisit Paris. It is a crazy, wonderful, insane, celebration of Summer Solstice.
The Gendarmerie are out in force, but they turn a blind eye to the usual infractions.
Enjoying wine and beer in the streets would be one. Impeding traffic would be another. Anyone who knows Paris would avoid driving on this night. It is a night for people and for music of all kinds.
But it was a long way from evening. First, we needed to start with breakfast. We walked two or three minutes over to a little café by the Sorbonne, that famous institution of higher learning. Part of me wishes I had gone there when I was a teenager, but one cannot go back.
We arrived to find a regular customer checking out the street scene. Was that another cat? Perhaps a pretty girl?
We had been photographing a lot and decided to just savor the city and relax a bit.
At this time of year, we have always found some sort of fair under tents by We Église Saint-Sulpice. One year, it was books, including an edition of The Americans that we wish we had bought. Another year, it was an art fair. This year, antiques were featured, from furniture to china to oil paintings to old prints, and a bit of everything in between. There was even a stand featuring wines from the Beaune area of Bourgogne, but Arnie and I thought it was a bit too early to be sampling!
We wandered here and there. About the only thing on our itinerary was to pinpoint the area in which we love to photograph La Fête de la Musique.
On the way, my peripheral vision caught this scene, and I waited for someone to set it off.
A café looked inviting with its colorful chairs and tables topped with pretty pink flowers.
The shop windows were beautifully arranged, this one enticing brides with its confection of dresses.
We had found our area and marked it on our phone maps. We also found ourselves at another of our favorite restaurants, a tiny one in a very old building with a pocket-sized kitchen that produced fabulous fare.
It was going to be a late night, so we went in to get something to eat. Une salade de tomates et mozarella pour moi, et une d’endives et gorgonzola pour Arnie. You don’t need to speak French to understand these! We shared a carafe of wine and got to talking to a gentleman at the next table.
Clearly, with his conversation with the owner, he was a frequent visitor. He was right at home, and I commented to him that it seemed as though that were his table.
“Pas toujours, mais régulièrement,” he responded. “Not always, but regularly.”
The restaurant was convenient for him, as he lived not far away.
I texted the others, “It is going to be a zoo tonight and difficult to get into a restaurant. We have found the area which we love to photograph. We also found another one of our favorite restaurants. Charming, wooden beams, very old. Excellent food! Do you want us to make reservations? …”
Almost instantly, “Yes, at 8 for 7 people.”
And so, we requested the tables by the door where we were seated.
We enjoyed a nice conversation. We would translate here and there, and the man would sometimes speak English to Arnie, but he commented that he could see that Arnie understood quite a bit.
It was time to head back to the hotel to catch up on some work and perhaps grab a short nap before meeting the others and heading out for the evening.
We returned for dinner, and as we sat, we could hear the music starting.
Last year, there was a brass band that we loved. Full of life, they were infectious in their energy.
They were in constant motion. Sometimes facing down … sometimes facing up to the sky as in the photo at the top.
The horns reflected their players.
We checked out other bands, watched the watchers. It is always great seeing people enjoying themselves so much.
But as we went from band to band, the music was getting louder and louder. My ears don’t like loud noises, as I have protected my hearing over the years.
As we zigged and zagged back toward the hotel, I found another Deux Chevaux sporting a very fance paint job. It tickled my fancy! With the typical airmail design, it even had stamps on its sides.
And after checking out a few more locations, including some scenes from “Midnight in Paris,” we returned to the hotel. It was 1:30 in the morning, and time for sleep.
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