Bastille Day バスティーユの日
What I heard is true. If you have lost your inspiration, and it's nowhere to be found, go to Paris. It may be waiting for you there.
The view as I left the Louvre.
バスティーユの日にパリに行って、フランス人の消防士と踊った。
Literally: Summer break as for, Paris go, Bastille Day, French fireman with dance did.
English: This summer, I went to Paris and danced with a French fireman.
The Bastille Day Firemans Ball is a great tradition in France. It is a fundraiser, their version of the pancake breakfast. I didn’t want to be rude. I wanted to respect their tradition. Dancing is more fun than pancakes, although I do love a good pancake.
I did have a bucket list, turns out. In the depths of illness I read an awful lot about France. I never thought I would go. It was unrealistic to think I could ever be well enough, so I never even thought about wanting to go.
The opportunity for this trip came way. I went to live my dreams of Paris.
I had read about the legendary French fireman, and about dancing with them. I did. They lived up to expectations.
France filled my soul. I had the best summer of my life in Paris. I would go back tomorrow. Can anyone drop me off at LAX?
Need saving? Crew at the Saint Suplice Fire Station, Paris.
The rain poured down. No one stopped dancing.
I went to Paris, and I danced with French firemen on Bastille Day. The rain poured down. We all kept dancing. I worried what this might do to my sequined mini, and also mon iPhone. They both survived.
I was dipped, kissed on the forehead, kissed on the hand, twirled and dipped again, and even carried across the dance floor. Nothing inappropriate, I have a wedding ring on.
More on Paris later. I’m still there.
And it’s not yet time to come home.
