Paris FOMO For Fireworks

Paris is solid FOMO, or Fear of missing out. There is so much going on all the time that there is simply never enough time in the day to do even a tiny fraction of it.

As of this writing, there were all the events surrounding Bastille Day, preparation for all the events surrounding the 2024 Olympics and everything else in between. I can be exhilarating and exhausting all at the same time.

All last week I spent every single day preparing for our move (this coming Wednesday) out of our apartment of 27 years. With the help of a few assistants, we took it room-by-room to sort, pack, organize, etc. By Saturday evening, in time for the “Bals des Pompiers,” the apartment was ready to accept us and we were down to one last room to pack—the kitchen.

My body was feeling it. Getting to dinner with friends was a physical challenge due to utter exhaustion, but FOMO set in and there was no way we were going to miss the dance party at the Mairie de Paris Centre,  just a few blocks from our apartment. It’s the party we traditionally attend as part of the Bals des Pompiers, even though it’s not a fire station—always lots of fun, very local (neighbors having fun in their own neighborhood)—and easy, since it’s so close by.

Everyone was dancing their hearts out as the band was really good this year. Because it was drizzling, there wasn’t the same big crowd as usual. My daughter, Erica, has a group of friends from Hawaii visiting Paris, who all showed up for the festivities. Next to these gorgeous mid-30-year-olds an 87 year-old tiny bird-like white-haired woman was dancing her heart out. She was so into the moves that everyone was watching and taking photos. The girlfriends had fallen in love with her for her bad-ass spirit and danced with her in encouragement.

The Mairie was lit in the colors of the French flag, red, white and blue, and in the sky was a circle of lights coming from what we hadn’t a clue. The only thing missing was the traditional spray of confetti from the top floor of the Mairie that takes place at midnight marking the finale. Was it a cost-cutting maneuver or just an oversight? We may never know, but it was sadly missing as the usual highlight to mark a great evening.

Yesterday afternoon, we wheeled a marketing cart filled with goodies to a picnic spot on the Ile de la Cité, the Square du Vert-Galant. We chose the spot even though it was far from the Eiffel Tower, for convenience and a soft surface on which we could hang-out more comfortably, knowing that it might not be the best view of the fireworks. It also made it easy to walk home, as transportation in the city is largely disrupted thanks to the city preparing itself for the Olympic games. The Champ de Mars and the Esplanade des Invalides are both closed off, ruining our usual picnic fun on the Champ de Mars.

We hung out there grazing the picnic fare for almost six hours, which was as pleasant a picnic spot as it gets. The toilets meant for the passengers of the Vedettes du Pont Neuf solved that problem. The weather was perfect—mostly cloudy, therefore not too hot or sunny, and at a moderate temperature. At sundown, we packed up and headed upstairs to Pont Neuf, to get a glimpse of the fireworks.

No, it wasn’t the best vantage point we’ve ever had. We were missing our usual Champ de Mars view, which can’t be beat. But, “c’est la vie,” it’s a one-time situation and we’ve seen the fireworks many times before, so we didn’t feel too deprived. Plus, one can watch them in total just by tuning into YouTube.

The crowds dissipated and we headed home by foot about 1 a.m. on a perfectly balmy evening. Another Bastille Day has come and gone. But now, “let the (Olympic) games begin!”

A la prochaine…