No. 344: August in Paris
With apologies to my French girlfriends who were born and raised in Paris (and I think you might secretly agree), there are no two ways about it, the eighth month of the year here, is just fine. More than fine. Me thinks it is perfectly divine.! Yes siree. August is the most wonderful time of the year!
Why, you ask? Well…I have to say quite frankly, the Parisians have vanished and gone on vacances. Lucky us! Quelle chance!
There are simply no Parisians to be found here or there or anywhere.
A breath of fresh air has swept into town, and we can all get off the defensive and relax just a bit. No angry drivers honking and screeching. No stare downs and games of chicken on the crowded sidewalks. And no naughty little boys to stomp all over the ceiling or steal the mail.
Okay, so a few stores and restaurants might be closed (maybe only 70 percent), and yes, there is a large handful of tourists milling about, mais neither are a big inconvenience, compared to feeling like “I’m king (queen) of the World!”
I know it sounds crass, but it is truly freeing to be in Paris without the Parisians. It is the month of the year where I relearn to smile at, and say “hello” to strangers on the street. I remember how nice it is to be smiled back at by other expats and unhurried tourists all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
It is the month I let my guard down and open myself up to new possibilities and positivity. It is the month of gossiping with girlfriends in empty cafés, strolling along the Seine with your sweetheart in hand, the moon in sight, and lounging on the Paris Plage sipping a pamplemousse pressé watching the world go by.
August in Paris. Yippee!!