Missing the fireworks

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Last night, we sat on the slope leading up to the Sacre Coeur on top of the Montmartre hill.

Surrounded by thousands of others - all looking at the vast Paris skyline and waiting for the July 14 fireworks to start.

We knew the fireworks on Bastille Day were supposed to emanate from the Eiffel Tower, which wasn't in sight from this particular place,  but 10.000 Parisians can't be wrong! Since they had all gathered on this precise slope, something just had to happen here. 

This was what we thought, but we were wrong! We didn't see a thing! 

Nothing at all! 

Just the twinkling skyline of La Ville Lumière and the thousands of spectators, who, like us, were sitting, staring into a black void.

We sat for an hour in the almost tropical heat, drank a lovely bottle of wine, and experienced the thrill of being closer to a potential superspreader event than we had ever been since the start of Covid!



Earlier in the evening, before climbing the hill, we went to the local Bal des Pompiers - the firemen's ball. 

It is a unique French tradition that fire brigades open up their stations on the evening of July 14.

The trucks are put out into the street, while the firemen - and the hundreds of invited locals - party inside the garages.

It was a fun evening, although French people, who really like to hear themselves speak, might not be the best DJs.

Whenever the floor was whipped into a frenzy by the EDM and Drum&Bass,  we got plenty of time to cool down, as yet another fire chief took over the PA and delivered an overlong, celebratory speech.


We ended the night hanging out at the loveliest dive bar we know in all of Paris - surrounded by the host Ammad and his regular guests, who seem as eccentric as the ones found at Rick's Café Américain in the movie Casablanca.



What a night it turned out to be - even though we missed out on the fireworks!



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