You can read a word or two after the pretty pictures…
My last stop during the Christmas travels was Paris. We finally got there, after a grueling night in Geneva. I spent the first few days with my family before they left, then a few more days with a couchsurfer named Shantanu from India. He was freeking awesome. We didn’t spend much time together, but he took me to a party with some of his friends where every next person was from another country. It was great, and I hope to go back. It really sucked to leave after meeting so many cool people.
But that’s not what I want to talk about here. I spent New Years in Paris with my family. The Paris that’s in France, not Texas. I know what you’re thinking: “Wow, you’re such a lucky guy. New Years in Paris must be magical. You are so incredibly hot.” You are only partially right, because New Years in Paris sucks.
Granted, I had a great time with my family and thoroughly enjoyed myself. However, I had been bursting with excitement about spending the holiday in Paris on the Champs-Elysées beneath the Arc de Triomphe. I did, but it stank. We went out there with high expectations and battled a massive crowd for a good spot. Most people were drunk, as was expected, and were also acting like drunk people. People were climbing the light poles and trees that line the Champs-Elysées, jumping off into a crowd that was paying little attention. It was entertaining, but there was no magic.
I don’t want to sound like the spoiled brat who complains about celebrating a holiday in the company of thousands with a view of two of the most recognizable monuments in the world, but allow me to complain a little. I was expecting celebrations on a grand scale. In my head, this was the French Times Square celebration. There was just no celebration. What are the first two things that pop into your head when you think of a New Years celebration? The two most essential things? Go ahead and think about it. I think of fireworks and a countdown. Both were absent from the Paris celebration.
I was expecting a countdown followed by fireworks, or at least some kind of lights on the Arc de Triomphe, but there was nothing. Nobody knew when it was midnight, which is a pretty important thing on this particular holiday. How are you supposed to know when to kiss if there’s no countdown? When do you jump up and down and scream like an idiot? When do you toast your champagne? How are you supposed to know when to stop smoking for your New Year’s resolution? Maybe that’s why they had no countdown, so they never have to stop smoking. Probably. It wouldn’t have been such a big deal if there were some kind of fireworks to signify that it was now New Years, but there was nothing. We were all checking our watches, which of course were all slightly different. What a pot of crap.
Lesson learned: if you are unfortunate enough to be stuck in the old “dog crap capital of the world” for New Years, save yourself some disappointment and go to a bar. Paris was a dud.
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Kevin– thanks for the laugh. What a riot. I love how you write! Anyway, I’m sorry Paris was a bust, but I’m glad to see that you got some quality time with your family, Minh, and couch-surfers.
I’m going to have to co-sign. While I had fun in gay Paris for New Year’s it definitely didn’t live up to the height. We left the Arc de Triomphe because a police officer said (lied) there’d be more excitement (i.e. feu d’artifices) at the Eiffel Tower. So we went over there…more people + the Eiffel Tower in colour, but no fireworks…and several countdowns none of which were at midnight.haha, oh France. Thanks for sharing.