You may recognize the above photo…it’s the very same cover photo that I used on my very first blog post exactly five years ago! It was taken at Goðafoss in northern Iceland during the summer of 2008.
It’s hard to believe that five years (and 318 posts) have passed since I started this blog…and even harder to believe that it’s been 11 years since I was at Goðafoss!
Today’s post is not very long, nor are there any other pictures, because I think it would be more fun to jump into the archived posts at random. Pick a month on the left side of the screen, and see where you end up! You could also do a search (top left of each blog page) on a random word, and click on the first search result that appears.
Or, if you want a bit more direction, check out this “referral” post from 2017: it lists some of the places I had visited up to that point and provides links to them.
Going forward: it’s almost time to go skiing! This post shows where we went last year…stay tuned for a series of posts from my mysterious new ski destination!
The beginning of the year is always a time to reflect on past trips and think about the ones to come. Looking back to the beginning of 2018, I had some summer destinations in mind but nothing concrete (click here for the surprising resolution in early February of 2018).
View of Regenboldshorn, from Metschstand (Lenk/Adelboden, Switzerland)
The ski posse is getting a little tired by this point…we ended up skiing a total of 71 km that day! (Lenk, Switzerland)
But you probably already know all about those trips. What’s in store for 2019?
Bayeux’s Cathedral at 11:00 p.m. (France)
For me, it looks like 2019 is going to be a year of sports travel. In less than a month, I will be skiing for a week in a completely new (for me) ski region. It definitely falls into that “how come I never went here before?” category: like London (U.K.), I somehow managed to avoid this part of the world for a very long time. The big reveal is coming up in a few weeks!
Lots of choices, high above Lenk and Adelboden (Switzerland)
As for my traditional summer trip…it’s all up to the sporting gods. I’ll be entering a number of competitions this year and I’ll just have to see how they all work out. I don’t even know where most of these events will take place: I just know roughly when they will occur. They could be local, somewhere in the province of Ontario, somewhere in Canada, or even international!
Precariously leaning house in Rouen (France)
So far, my experience with sports travel has been excellent. Of course, skiing is always a great experience. However, that is purely recreational and it is not all that difficult to stumble upon alpine highlights. In contrast, participating in competitions brings you into contact with people and places that you would never see as a “regular” tourist.
Vitré (France)
My 2014 hockey tour of Eastern Europe was predictably unforgettable. But I also participated in a provincial championship in another sport in Sarnia, Ontario, last summer…and had a great time, even though I had never thought of visiting there as a “regular” tourist. You just never know!
The Arc de Triomphe, overlooking l’avenue des Champs-Élysées (right before France’s victory parade for winning the 2018 World Cup!)
And if things don’t go too well on the competitive front this summer, I will probably have some vacation time left over in the fall. That’s a great time of year to have some leftover vacation days! As readers of this blog know, last-minute trips are often the very best kind.
Competing in the Novice Singles playoffs at the Ontario Lawn Bowling Association provincial championships in Ottawa, Ontario (September 2018)
Whatever happens, 2019 promises to be a very interesting travel year.
One of the interesting parts of the New Jersey conference was interacting with people whose names I knew…but whom I had never actually seen or met.
As this was an academic conference, many of the attendees and presenters were authors. I brought along a few books for signing, as it appeared that time would be available to meet the authors. In each case, the authors were unfailingly polite and it was abundantly clear that they were also big fans of the music.
The Jersey Shore
There was another attendee who might be a little more famous (by work, if not by name) to those outside of the Beatles’ world. He has a very significant Beatles connection, but he has also reached the pinnacle of his profession through his work with other musicians. However, he rarely attends events like this…and I wondered if he might not be too thrilled to meet “fans”.
Science Hall at Monmouth University
While I did obtain his autograph and briefly speak to him, I was most struck by his keen interest in the conference. Although he was a featured guest, he did not just zip in and out of the conference for his assigned slot. He arrived early and stayed for several days (and these were long days)…perhaps even longer than I did! And it was evident that he was just as polite with, and considerate of, other “fans” as he was when I met him.
Woodrow Wilson Hall, Monmouth University, Long Branch, New Jersey
This made me ponder the whole idea of celebrity. If I were famous and pursuing one of my interests, my patience with being approached by strangers might eventually get worn down. Imagine having to deal with that all of the time! And so, given the grace with which this person was handling things, I have decided not to name him or post a picture.
Bey Hall, Monmouth University
Almost exactly four years ago, I came across a similar issue when I visited the Abbey Road recording studio in London, England. The building (and the pedestrian crossing outside of it) are, of course, iconic in the Beatles world. I readily accepted a stranger’s offer to take my picture while I walked across Abbey Road. However, one of the most famous musicians of all time also lives quite close to that studio…only a few minutes’ walk away.
I had to take a look, as I was curious about the style in which this musician lived. I thought about taking a picture and posting it on this blog. In the end, however, I decided that posting a photograph would just contribute to the “siege” that this musician must often feel.
Bethlehem, Pennsylvania…on the way back home
As a result, rather than posting “celebrity” photos, I have decided to illustrate this post with some more travel-oriented photos of the conference trip. The final stop was a brief visit to the nearby Jersey Shore (see photo at the very top of this post), which I had heard about but never actually seen. After taking some final pictures and ceremonially touching the chilly Atlantic Ocean, it was time to begin the long journey back home.
After the great concert on the first night at Monmouth University’s music symposium (see my previous post – and also photo above), it was time to get a little serious.
There were roughly 50 “elective” seminars spread out over 10 time slots, so it was impossible to see everything. I decided to challenge myself and attend something that sounded really obscure…a seminar on “irregular hypermeters”. As I was never able to fit any music electives into my university timetable, I braced myself for the worst. I have a good grounding in the basics of music theory, and have always been intrigued by odd time signatures, but haven’t really studied music seriously for about 35 years. Even with the conference’s underlying Beatles theme, perhaps this was taking things too far?
The back of Woodrow Wilson Hall (Monmouth University)
My fears were groundless. Yes, some of the language was challenging, especially when the professor also incorporated a philosophy called “aesthetic realism”. And irregular hypermeters weren’t actually odd time signatures, as I had originally thought. But then something very cool happened: the professor was so enthusiastic about the material that the required intellectual gymnastics suddenly became attainable.
The “OceanFist Bank Center” at Monmouth University
The basic idea was that the musical phrases in Beatles music are often captivating because they do not comply with the “rules” for popular music. For example, instead of the expected lengths of 4, 8 or 12 bars, the phrases would be 5 bars (“Eleanor Rigby”) or 7 bars (“Yesterday”). This is what you call an “irregular hypermeter”. Sure enough, if you count out the beats and bars, these songs (and many others) do not fit the expected pattern. The predictability so often found in blues and country music, and by extension much popular music, just isn’t there. Is this why the Beatles’ music still sounds fresh and inventive today?
Front entrance to Woodrow Wilson Hall
The professor was a gifted musician…in fact, it turns out that he has won awards as a composer. But instead of leaving us with just an interesting theory, he actually demonstrated on the piano what “Yesterday” would sound like if it contained “standard” verse phrases of 8 bars rather than 7 bars. It was corny, and almost painful to hear.
After showing how (via the music of Burt Bacharach) the unusual phrasing and chord changes in “Eleanor Rigby” also surprise and delight, the professor took some questions from the class. At one point, he erupted into a vocal passage from an opera (in German!) to demonstrate his point.
Side entrance to Woodrow Wilson Hall
Before we knew it, we had run way past the scheduled end of the seminar. In a sign that the message got through, I later enthused about this previously unknown subject to my friend…and, over the next several days, anybody else who would listen. I also found myself counting out the lengths of melodic phrases in every piece of music I encountered (note: don’t try this when you are driving). Sure enough, the most cliched-sounding songs rigidly follow the same old patterns.
Just in case you missed it – another view of Woodrow Wilson Hall (with previously unnoticed pink glow)
While this topic continues to fascinate me, I think the key take-aways are a lot simpler. First of all, being passionate about what you are teaching can break down a lot of barriers. Secondly, learning out of pure interest is far more effective than learning out of necessity. And finally, you’re never too old to learn. If you can find something you’re passionate about, those rusty old learning skills will come rushing back!
On very short notice, I decided to join a friend on a road trip to a four-day academic music conference at Monmouth University in New Jersey. This was purely for fun and had nothing to do with my employment. I was free to attend whichever seminars and events caught my interest.
My previous exposure to New Jersey consisted only of passing through Newark Airport on my way to and from New York City. Most of what I saw was concrete. This time, however, I found myself at an idyllic college that seemed far removed from urban America.
Stop for gas in Pennsylvania’s Pocono Mountains
The conference itself was scheduled to coincide with the 50th anniversary of the Beatles’ eponymous 1968 album (popularly known as the “White Album”). While most of the seminars had some connection to that album, the topics ranged from the media in 1960s Germany to “irregular hypermeters” (more about that in a future post).
Yes. New Jersey’s Garden State Parkway passes through a place called Cheesequake!
In addition to the daytime seminars, there were “working” lunches with keynote speakers, dinners with live entertainment, evening presentations for all attendees, vast numbers of books for sale…and, on the first night, a concert by a band called “The Weeklings“. They seemed to be fairly well known, so we decided to attend as the tickets were included with our conference fees.
I was so impressed with Cheesequake that I took another picture
I had no idea that this concert, by a band that was completely unknown to me, would be one of the very best that I had ever attended. The Weeklings are primarily a Beatles tribute band, meaning that they replicate the songs of the Beatles in concert. I’ve seen plenty of these bands before, and many of them are quite good. My brother-in-law even portrayed John Lennon in one of them. However, the Weeklings (see photo at the top of this post) don’t look anything like the Beatles, nor do they even try.
The interior of Monmouth University’s Woodrow Wilson Hall, where we ate our dinners and attended a number of presentations
The concert was a live recreation of (most of) the White Album. For those of you who are unfamiliar with that double album, it is by far the most musically varied of any Beatles album. The songs range from acoustic ballads to heavy metal, ska to music hall, and everything in between. The songs are also full of musical tricks, including multiple time signature changes within the same song or even the same verse. Playing it live is an extreme test. But the Weeklings were up to it…for this special event, they even had a 5-piece string section and a 6-piece horn section.
Descending the marble staircase into Woodrow Wilson Hall’s dining area
It was astonishing. Even with Paul McCartney’s vast financial resources, the string and horn parts at his concerts are generally played by one guy with a fancy keyboard. To hear these songs live, with the actual arrangements and instruments that appear on the record, was really something special.
The Weeklings on stage at Pollak Hall
But that wasn’t all – the Weeklings then proceeded to play a handful of their original compositions (with obvious Beatles influences)…and then play even more Beatles songs that are rarely performed live with full string and horn sections. While their string-heavy and amped-up version of “I am the Walrus” was deeply impressive, it was “A Day in the Life” that really took things to the next level.
“A Day in the Life” is, in my opinion, the Beatles’ finest song. The recording, with its unprecedented and seemingly random 24-bar orchestral crescendos, represents one of the highest points of 20th century popular music. To hear it live, with that instrumentation, was like nothing I had ever heard.
The musicians acknowledge the crowd at the end of the show
It has been said that writing about music is like dancing about architecture: it is very difficult to do well. But If I haven’t conveyed it clearly enough, please just take my word for it…this was amazing, and you should definitely see these guys if you ever get the chance. They don’t always have the strings and horns with them in concert, but even as a 4-piece band with a keyboard player on the side, they are still incredible. What a great way to start the conference!
After our lengthy walk through the Latin Quarter, we were suffering from a little bit of big city fatigue. Rather than trying to find the “ultimate” Parisian restaurant, we decided to eat our final Parisian meal within a 5 minute walk of our Montparnasse hotel. I did some quick online research, located a few “candidate” restaurants, and created a brief tour. We agreed that we would eat at the first restaurant with that certain “je ne sais quoi“.
The Aquarius Restaurant
Much to our surprise, the winner of our random dining walk was “Aquarius”, a vegetarian/vegan restaurant on rue de Gergovie. While I doubt that vegetarian dining is the first thing you think of when you think of dining in Paris, it turned out to be a restaurant with a long history.
My vegetarian couscous plate (and bowl)
I went for a Moroccan couscous plate, while my wife went for lasagna. Even the beverages were a little different: we had certified organic cider! Our main courses looked great. While I enjoyed the couscous, my wife thought that her lasagna was the best she had ever tasted…vegetarian or otherwise!
My wife’s vegetarian lasagna
The patron was fascinated with the arrival of Canadians in his restaurant, and spent quite a bit of time talking proudly about vegetarian cuisine generally and his restaurant in particular. It was the kind of personal connection that we hadn’t expected to find in such a big city.
The Seine, as seen from the Île Saint-Louis
In retrospect, however, I think it all makes sense. The back streets of Montparnasse simply don’t see the tourist crush one sees in more fashionable parts of Paris. Restaurants here need repeat local business in order to survive. You get that through good food and connecting with your clientele.
Gelato shop on Île Saint-Louis, Paris
To celebrate our dining victory, we strolled around our new favourite Parisian neighbourhood. There were fresh fruit and vegetable markets (see photo at the top of this post), independent bakeries, and tiny shops specializing in the smallest of niches. The restaurants were from all over the world, reminding me a little bit of Toronto neighbourhoods such as Kensington Market. It was an unexpected connection to home, in an obscure corner of the City of Light.
Resting place of Serge Gainsbourg, in Montparnasse Cemetery
The last day of a long holiday can sometimes be sad. I’ve often tried to cram as much uniqueness as possible into that day, in anticipation of less exciting days ahead. But there was something different about this day in France.
Televised chaos! The World Cup victory parade in Paris (July 16, 2018)
From Rouen to Montparnasse, we had enjoyed living like locals more than on some previous trips. Sure, we were about to go home, but there are unique niche shops and restaurants like Aquarius everywhere…even in the small city we call home.
While I greatly enjoyed my ascent of the Eiffel Tower, the crowds strengthened our resolve to avoid any kind of line-up for the remainder of our 3 night stay in Paris.
Part of the Sorbonne
We ended up devoting most of our last full day to walking in and around the Latin Quarter. We had a vague idea of where we wanted to go, but also didn’t worry too much about whether we “ticked all the boxes”. It was very much a case of letting things happen, rather than forcing them to happen. If we missed something along the way…well, there will probably be a next time.
Street vendor in the Latin Quarter
We started with a visit to Montparnasse Cemetery. This isn’t the most famous Parisian cemetery: that would be Père Lachaise, which hosts celebrities ranging from Jim Morrison (of “The Doors”) to Oscar Wilde, Frédéric Chopin, and Edith Piaf. However, Montparnasse does include famous “guests” such as Samuel Beckett, Charles Baudelaire, Serge Gainsbourg, and the jointly buried Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir (see photo at the very top of this post). Odd traditions have developed: there are many discarded Metro tickets at the more famous graves.
Rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île, on Île Saint-Louis
Our virtually random wander through the Latin Quarter (so named because Latin was the language of universities during the Middle Ages) soon found us right in the middle of the famed Sorbonne. The story of the Sorbonne (actually the Université de Paris, until quite recently), is complicated and the names of the institutions are constantly changing, but it is still a famous academic location.
Quiet moments along the Seine (Ile-St-Louis)
We enjoyed the bookish vibe. As you might expect, we found unusual bookstores, music shops, and almost comically specialized small businesses. At one tiny fromagerie, we were given samples of various unusual cheeses: while the employee was probably hoping to sell us an expensive gourmet picnic lunch, we only bought a small piece of a tasty sheep’s cheese. We were already planning our own picnic, and this fitted in perfectly. While we cannot remember the name of the cheese, it was consumed artfully at a park in the shadow of the Notre-Dame-de-Paris cathedral. Perhaps it is better that we don’t know the name…it will become legendary in our minds and we can now embark on an eternal search for it!
Crowds in front of the Notre-Dame
Speaking of Notre-Dame…we passed it, and ate our picnic lunch behind it, but did not go in. The crowds were massive and a slightly tense atmosphere of desperate tourism pervaded. After two weeks in France, we had seen plenty of majestic cathedrals. We decided to explore the back streets of Île Saint-Louis instead. While it was no stranger to tourism, it was much more relaxing…especially when we took the steps down from street level and walked along the shores of the Seine.
View from our picnic bench, behind the Notre-Dame
We briefly crossed into Le Marais, where we found a gelateria recommended by one of my travel friends. The gelato was not cheap, but it was high quality and soothed any lingering frayed nerves from the chaos around Notre-Dame.
Some cafés in Le Marais, as seen from our gelato bench
We wandered back through the Latin Quarter, enjoying the casual elegance of the St-Germain district, before returning to our hotel in earthier Montparnasse. While I had researched some interesting restaurants and venues for our last night in Paris. we ultimately decided to stay close to “home”. Stay tuned for the details!
My parents took me to Paris when I was 10 years old. Among other sights, I visited the Louvre (home of the Mona Lisa!), the Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower. But that was many years ago, in the spring, and in a much less crowded and much less traveled world.
Line-ups at the bottom of the Eiffel Tower
Although I frequently changed planes at the Charles de Gaulle airport, I had not been to Paris itself since the late 1970s. So I thought the time was right to not only see the city again, but also to see its most famous sight in a completely new way. A brilliant idea, right?
Climbing the Eiffel Tower!
France is frequently named as the most popular tourist destination in the world. Paris is its capital. The Eiffel Tower is likely its most iconic sight. July is the height of the tourist season. I hadn’t booked ahead, because I wanted to climb the Eiffel Tower instead of taking the elevator…and tickets to climb the stairs could only be purchased the same day. Was this really a good idea?
View of the Jardin du Champ de Mars, from the 2nd level of the Eiffel Tower. The most unfortunate Tour Montparnasse in the background
We walked all the way from Montparnasse to the Eiffel Tower. It was exciting to catch a glimpse of the Tower here and there, only to have it disappear behind another famous Paris building. And then, finally, we emerged onto the Jardin du Champ de Mars and the entire Tower (see photo at the very top of this post) was suddenly very, very visible.
Jardins du Trocadero – from the Eiffel Tower
As this was just after Bastille Day, crews were still taking down various temporary structures. The signage was non-existent. We eventually found a very long line and overheard enough to conclude that this was where we had to line up to get into the Eiffel Tower. The line moved painfully slowly, and finally we were able to go through the comprehensive security checkpoint. After about 45 minutes, we were finally right underneath the Eiffel Tower.
Mild vertigo
It seemed so close. But we then realized that even longer lines were snaking out from each corner of the Tower. We had to wait in THOSE lines just to go buy a ticket. This took more than an hour; perhaps even 90 minutes. It was also an extremely hot day…and I still had to climb the stairs.
Looking up the Eiffel Tower from the second observation level
It looked like this was going to be a major test of endurance. By this point, however, my accumulated restless energy blasted me up the stairs in a flash: 6 minutes to the first observation level, and then another 4 minutes to the second observation level (the highest you could go by stairs).
The mighty Seine, from the Eiffel Tower
It’s probably a good thing I went fast. The higher you go, the more open space you encounter…and the more vulnerable and exposed you feel. If you suffer from vertigo, I recommend taking the elevator instead.
People enjoying the views from the Eiffel Tower
The spectacular views from each level seemed to be exactly the same as they were nearly 40 years ago. With the exception of one solitary (and horrendously ugly) 1960s skyscraper near our hotel, the skyline of Paris is not cluttered by tall buildings. You can still follow the arc of Seine and its many bridges for miles and miles. You can pick out famous landmarks or simply look at the insect-sized people on the ground far below.
Not-so-minor vertigo
There were changes to the Tower, however. The interiors of the observation levels felt a little bit like malls, with pricey souvenir shops and snacks. And the “courtyard” views straight down from the interior of the tower had a new attraction: part of the floor had been replaced by glass, so you could now look straight down to the ground and feel like you are standing on thin air.
The line-ups are no better at 2:00 p.m.
After taking what seemed like hundreds of pictures (one doesn’t climb the Eiffel Tower every day), I made my way down the stairs again…eventually emerging into the courtyard where the line-ups were now even longer.
Descending to the ground, with some dense ironwork
In the end, I’d have to say it was still worth the wait…partly because there was some satisfaction in climbing the tower myself rather than taking an elevator ride up. Not as vertiginous or flat-out scary as the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but (other than the souvenir shops) unique in an elegant Parisian way. Like almost anything else in Paris, I’d still recommend going in the spring or fall if possible. And if you must go during the summer, try visiting the Tower very early or very late in the day. The sunset views might even be better!
Entrance to the castle, from the interior courtyard
A few posts ago, I mentioned my concern about having enough to do in Vitré: we were going to be in this small town from Friday noon until mid-afternoon on a Sunday. That turned out to be the least of our worries!
La Fabrique d’Embas Crêperie – we ate here on our first night in Vitré
Vitré is an appealing place, but it is also some distance from both the English Channel and the Atlantic Ocean. As a result, the summer days can get VERY hot and humid. Our biggest concern quickly shifted from (a) having enough to do, to (b) trying to stay cool. Our hotel was characterful and ideally located but, alas, lacked air conditioning.
Chez Pierre in Vitré – we did not eat here
Not too many restaurants were air conditioned either, so we found a large and shady civic garden complex and had a picnic for Saturday’s lunch. It was very peaceful and we managed to forget about the heat for as long as we were there.
The cemetery in Vitré – almost as imposing as the Recoleta in Buenos Aires,
Trying to stay in the shade also found us wandering off the beaten path in a riverside park. We came much closer than expected to various cows and goats, as the town quickly turned into farmland. There also seemed to be some kind of gathering for tough-looking characters in the park, but they were deeply engrossed in conversation and had no interest in hassling tourists.
This curious goat jumped up on the stone wall/fence to take a look at us
Later in the evening, we saw part of the ongoing Bastille Day celebrations on television. We saw virtually every French music legend…and, if Johnny Hallyday were still alive, I’m sure he would have been there too. Much to our surprise, Patrick “Born to be Alive” Hernandez turned out to be French as well! He performed his big hit, of course. Could he possibly have imagined, when he first released the song in 1979, that he would still be singing it in 2018? Or that one of his background dancers (none other than Madonna!) would be the one to go on to sustained global superstardom?
Stairs in the Vitré castle
The castle in Vitré was naturally also not air conditioned, but the relative lack of windows in the stone structure kept the internal temperatures down. Some of the online reviewers were not too impressed with it as a museum, but it more than fit the bill as a place for us to escape the heat on Sunday. Too bad that only about 8 rooms were open to the public!
View from Vitré from its castle
Most importantly, however, we ensured that we knew the locations of Vitré’s gelato vendors. We might not have it that often at home, but it is a decadent way to beat the heat when we’re on the road! This being Brittany, they even had apple cider gelato.
The 2018 World Cup final between France and Croatia was scheduled to take place at 5:00 p.m. (Paris time) on Sunday, July 15. Our train from Vitré was scheduled to arrive in Paris at 6:52 p.m. Just in time for the end of regulation time!
Standing on the bus stop on Boulevard du Montparnasse
We had hoped that the game would be shown on the train. We boarded the train and looked around hopefully. Not only was there no game and no wi-fi…our assigned seats were in a car filled with 40 young sea scouts on their way home from a weekend camp. And they were all looking for a passenger, any passenger, with a portable device that was showing the game.
Shutting down Rue de la Gaîté, in Paris Montparnasse
In short, our highly anticipated viewing of a France victory, while in France, did not really work out as materialized…until we pulled into Montparnasse Station in Paris just as the final whistle sounded and France recorded a 4-2 victory. Now, things got crazy.
Boulevard du Montparnasse
Encumbered by our luggage, we struggled to find our way out of the massive station and to our hotel. The chaos had already started. Cars and motorcycles festooned with flags and barely-attached passengers roared by with horns blaring.
Boulevard du Montparnasse, Paris
After unloading our luggage, I rushed out in the direction of the loudest noise. Some streets were already closed off. On others, pedestrians were running out into the street and high-fiving strangers leaning out of car windows. Even I received random high-fives and jubilant cries from people I had never seen before.
Random building on Rue Fabert showing its support the next day
People were climbing on top of bus stops and shooting off flares. Music blared from balconies and flags tumbled from thousands of windows. Huge crowds of people were performing the Icelandic chant that captivated hundreds of thousands of spectators in Russia. The horns got louder and the shouts became hoarser. This was like nothing else I’d ever seen.
View of the Arc de Triomphe, from l’avenue des Champs-Élysées
The next day was perhaps not as crazy, but just as impressive. We found ourselves on the Champs-Élysées, the famous avenue leading up to the Arc de Triomphe (see photo at the top of this post). However, there were no cars. It was closed off for a victory parade: the French soccer team was returning from Russia and heading straight for the admiring throngs!
More of the crowd on the Champs-Élysées
I have no idea how many people were there. Hundreds of thousands, maybe? Even though the team wasn’t arriving for hours, it was already impossible to get close to the parade route. The mood remained jubilant, and it seemed like the entire country was welcoming its liberating heroes.
View of the Arc de Triomphe, from the far end of l’avenue des Champs-Élysées
By the time we got back to the hotel, the team was finally arriving. The French air force soared overhead, leaving contrails of bleu, blanc et rouge. An entire nation was feeling unequivocally great about itself. What a rare and special time it was!
