Keara and Rasmus and La Fête de la Musique

One of the greatest joys of our stay in Paris has been sharing it with family and friends, and this past weekend was definitely one of the highlights. Keara, our grandniece, and her cousin Rasmus arrived on Friday, while Aidan and Joseph were still in London.  

Keara is pursuing her dream, working her way around Europe by freelancing for a couple of clients in the U.S. (Hmm. I wonder if the company I work for would go for something like that?) Keara flew in from Venice and Rasmus arrived from his home in Copenhagen, where he is enjoying a fascinating, but demanding job, for one of the largest unions in Denmark. (Kevin and I enjoy talking to Rasmus about politics and economics--as well as The Simpsons--and we find the Danish Model interesting.)

We took them to the usual tourist stops and spent hours catching up on our lives, but one of the experiences I enjoyed the most was attending La Fête de la Musique (Music Festival) with them.

This event, which began in 1981, takes place on the summer solstice, June 21, each year. Both professional and amateur musicians take part, and all of Paris stays up until the wee hours celebrating. Everyone from toddlers to grandparents dance in the streets, and in some places there are bands on almost every corner, playing everything from classical to rock, reggae, and electro.  The Abbesses area near us was hopping! If you didn't like one performance, you could simply walk down the street to another.  I apologize because some of these photos are blurred--it was night, and people were moving--but I wanted to give you a flavor of this remarkable event.  Yes, people were drinking, but no one was drunk or disorderly, and a good time was had by all!

Kevin had to leave early because Aidan and Joseph were returning that night from London.  They hoped to join us later, but they were delayed, and sadly missed all the action.

I stayed. At midnight, I said goodbye to Keara and Rasmus and started my walk home. The streets were still full of people.  As I passed a bar on the way back, I was taken with the dizzying sound of a band led by an amazing trumpet player.  The band was playing a rousing version of Twist and Shout. Of course, I had to join in. No one minded that there was a woman in her 60's dancing on the sidewalk, while the other patrons swayed. I felt 30 years younger!*

*No, it wasn't the alcohol. The bars were so packed, it took forever to get a drink. I had only had one beer! How can you not love this city?


Addendum: Apparently, some bars in other parts of the city said they were going to boycott this year's celebrations, given that the police were coming down so hard on them for exceeding noise levels. The bar owners said they had done everything from cautioning customers to setting up a phone line for residents to complain to them, so they felt the police were being unreasonable. I wondered later if that had something to do with what I witnessed that night.  On one street, we saw a police car surrounded by people, and I momentarily thought we should get out of there, fearing a confrontation.  But some people in the crowd starting singing "La Marseillaise," the French National Anthem.  (Shades of "Casablanca"?) At that point, the police car backed down the street and left.