(Paris, France)
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!
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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!
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.
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!