WHAT. A. WEEKEND. - Part 3: Sunday

Sunday 11:30 a.m.


I feel myself wake up but refuse to open my eyes. I just want to lay in this bed for the rest of my life. After the last two days I've had, this was an appropriate desire. But incredibly unrealistic. Ahh well, I'll have a nice quiet Sunday, I say to myself as I get out of bed and start the coffee maker. Just me, maybe a book, cup of coffee. Nice. Quiet. Relaxing. Boy was I wrong. But I'll get to that.


I go downstairs to find Lindsey's and Julie's bags all packed, and my mood drops. The weekend completely flew by. After saying our goodbyes, laughing a final time about some hilariously obnoxious stunts Lindsey pulled, we part ways. Okay good. I've said my goodbyes, Ariel's off with her friends, Devyn goes to the gym, and I'm left here to curl up on the couch on this freezing day and get lost in The Hunger Games, one helluva book.


Then my phone buzzes.


A few of my GW friends studying for the semester at Sciences Po have decided to brave the cold and explore the city and want to know if I want to join. My first thought? NOPE. It's warm in here and I want to be lazy. But a little nagging voice inside my head scoffs in disappointment at my apathy over exploring Paris. What did I tell myself before coming to Paris? Seize every opportunity. Even if it's in the 20s outside. My coat goes on and I'm out the door.


I journey to the Latin Quarter, pass the Pantheon where I saw all those tombs of dead philosophers and authors (See the "Dead Things" post) and meet my friends S.J., Cody, and Alex at their apartment. I find out that China Town is our destination. Being Chinese New Year, there was apparently a big parade and celebration going on. "So much for my quiet Sunday," I think to myself. 


So much for my quiet Sunday indeed. We walk to the 13th arrondissement along a wide avenue lined with banners and signs wishing everyone a happy new year in both Chinese and French. People of all ethnicities and ages crowd the streets as a myriad of multi-colored dragons, costumed martial artists, and parade floats weave throughout the falling confetti. The sights are incredible. The colors vibrant against the gray, dreary sky. 

A weird smell wafts across my nostrils like something burning. I look on my shoulder at some confetti that had fallen there. It was strange, ragged looking stuff.


BAM! BAM! BAM!


My left ear bursts inside my head as three deafening explosions go off next to me. As loud as cannon fire, more explosions go off around the streets. My mind instantly goes to the worst. Crowds. Bombs. Terrorists. That's where a D.C. mind is trained to go. But that notion only lasts an instant as I see people laughing and cheering. They're not bombs, but Chinese firecrackers. And what I thought was confetti was actually the ragged debris of fireworks falling gently back to Earth. Little Asian men, laughing maniacally, light the fuses of more fireworks hanging from trees, or throw little flaming balls on the ground and the blasts ring out like gunshots as adults cheer and young children cry on their parents shoulders, desperately trying to cover the ears to soften the apocalyptic noise. 

I feel like I've plunged into some sort of warzone. I really can't emphasize how loud these bangs were and how they just enveloped the street in debris. I manage to take three pictures of the progression of one of the fireworks exploding that make it truly look like a scene out of a war film.


The firework is lit...

The fuse burns as curious gatherers begin to crowd around.

BAM. 
All hell breaks loose.

S.J., Cody, Alex, and I weave throughout the crowd, dodging blasts from the fireworks, and taking in the incredible spectacle laid out before us. As I dash around people and manage to evade the explosions, I can't help but geek out and pretend to be in the middle of a Call of Duty level. We manage to make it to the end of the avenue where the parade ends and the sounds of fireworks exploding and the intense crowd subsides. But for some unknown and insane reason, we plunge back into the crowd, making our way back up the street through the wild celebration. The journey was a crazy one, better understood with this quick little video I made.

Never thought I'd learn this is Paris, but the Chinese know how to make a bang. Pun completely intended.


The day ends with a walk back to the Latin Quarter and an excellent Italian dinner of 4 Cheese Pasta and Chocolate Mousse. Can't forget the carafe of red wine. But it wouldn't be a weekend in Paris without making a tiny, yet fantastic discovery on our walk home through the streets. As we walk into Pantheon Square, we notice a set of steps that look oddly familiar. Turning around and looking down the street, a scene from one of the best movies I saw this past summer flashes across my mind's eye. An old car rumbling down the street. Owen Wilson getting into it and being whisked back in time to 1920s Paris. 


Holy crap, these are the Midnight in Paris steps. 


The steps where Owen Wilson waits in the movie each night for that car to take him back to an iconic time in Paris' history to meet the likes of Ernest Hemingway, Cole Porter, F. Scott Fitzgerald, and Gertrude Stein. This movie is what sealed the deal for me to study abroad in Paris. And while no time traveling car picked us up and spun us back decades, a couple from New York did take our picture.

Again, I'll say it. WHAT. A. WEEKEND.






End of Part 3