Biet that I had all this time, I was pretty fond of taking the evenings for myself to either go for a walk or just settle down in a garden with my book. By the end of the week, both the Luxembourg and Museum of Natural History's gardens knew me pretty well; having spent quite a few hours equally between the two. One evening however, on a whim and knowing that they wouldn't mind, I left my two favorite gardens behind in search of a new one. Looking at my map, I located a small canal on the north-eastern corner of the city that had a rotunda at its head and a church midway up it's western bank.
One spanish guitarist and about ten minutes of metro later, I had arrived at the new destination. My first impressions of the area wasn't the greatest. Upon exiting the metro, I was greeted by a hand full of people sitting aimlessly amongst the garbage strewn about the rotunda and park-area. I'd say I was disappointed, but that'd be a lie. I just took the situation for what it was and made my way further down the canal.
On either side of me there were dozens of people playing patonk and socializing as the sun slowly made it's decent further towards the horizon. I'd say this is one appreciation I've developed over the past few months in France; the fact that the community is actively involved here, or that there's even a community to begin with (non such to speak for Tampa). Either way, I just amused myself watching the different techniques of these semi-pro's while walking book-in-hand to my next destination.
This is where I found a church that I couldn't help but admire. Centrally located in Place de Bitche which had been carefully altered to read otherwise, the church was nothing less than beautiful on the outside, yet hardly ornate on the inside. The striking thing about this church was the effort that seemed to be behind it. Despite it's condition in comparison to Notre Dame and others, there was a lot to be said about the number of community involvement projects posted on the bulletin, the faire amount of people seated in the pews, and the laughter of children playing in the park just outside. Satisfied, I made my way elsewhere.
Back to the canal, this time making my way further north toward where I had noticed what seemed to be a park just on the edge of the city. At this point the sun was about an hour from setting and I had managed to walk beyond the metro's sprawling tendrils. This left me torn on whether to press on or call it a night. However, the way I figured; I would always look back to that spot on the map and wonder what lied in it's place. It was too enticing pass.I'm not sure that I was really prepared for what I would see next. I knew that it was going to be some sort of park, but I assumed that it's location on the edge of Paris would have left it nearly derelict. But after getting there, I'm not sure which came first: the stupid look of amazement on my face, or the sudden feeling of unadulterated amusement. I grasped the railing in front of me, leaning over the edge a bit to get a better look of what laid in front of me. A massive glass building sat tranquilly in a pool of water with several walkways stretching outwards to the land on either side. My eyes followed one of these walkways to the base of a marvelously polished metallic sphere that I had only just noticed due to the perfect reflection of it's surroundings; the whole thing being all too surreal.
Daring to move on, I made my way to one of these walkways to try and see what this building was.
At it's entrance, I could see all kinds of contraptions, extrapolators, and thingamajigs. Apparently I had found the Parisian equivalent to MOSI, which I must say had shamelessly out-staged it's counterpart in Florida. There were people all about and not a single one of them seemed to be at odds with themselves or the world, giving no better excuse to join them. Taking a moment to reflect, I couldn't seem to grasp how such a place could exist in Paris. I let out a small laugh, trying wrap my brain around the situation. I had only arrived at a fraction of a thought as two boys shot past me and back across the walkway with a third in hot pursuit.
This time I was sure that I had died and found myself in another universe or perhaps that I had just lost my grasp on reality. You see, there was something in front of me that didn't belong there; no, couldn't belong there. I was looking at a submarine, just casually sitting there as if to challenge my sanity a bit further. I looked around to see if anyone else was as amazed besides me, but they all just went about as usual. Yea, I'd lost it. No worries though, I figured I could just take my leave and sail off into the night.
Well, that's exactly what I did.
A short walk over the canal and beyond the bicycle that had long since been swallowed by the earth, I found myself being led by a faint trace of music to the other side of the park. It's here where chance and fate got together to create the most beautiful thing I could've asked for. That night, the night that I had nothing planned outside of a short walk, I had managed to find the coolest park in the world and also stumble across a music festival with my favorite artist and several other well appreciated musicians. Washed Out, Aphex Twin, and Cut Copy were all under the same roof, playing with other DJs and musicians until five in the morning.
Hit the breaks!
So maybe I hadn't been so lucky. I met two girls, Alice and Iris, who brought me down to earth by telling me that the festival had been sold out for over two months already.
Challenge Accepted.
I worked my way around the crowd looking for someone who might be willing to sell some tickets. However, this was a little easier said than done. It's not that I have a problem understanding French, it has more to do with the fact that it was hard to differentiate between the people wanting tickets and the people selling them. I was just one among the masses of a circling school of fish, all gasping for the same breath, trying to get our musical fixation. All hope was not lost though, because I eventually came across an interesting character who was pretty eager to part with his ticket. I guess maybe he was new at the game, but he was obviously too ambitious and had set to highballing the price way above everyone's head, dangling it like a piece of meat. I liked him though, I figured that it would be a cold day in hell before someone accepted my laughably low price and an equally cold evening before anyone bought his overpriced ticket. With that, it was just a matter of time until he was the only vendor left with an unsold ticket and I was the only buyer without one. Things go as they will; he made a few euros and I had one ticket in hand. The rest of the evening is history. I met up with Alice and Iris who were more than eager to see that I had made it inside then exchanged some hi-fives and a few hugs here and there with familiar faces of those who had also been desperately trying to get it.
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| Aphex Twin |
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| Cut Copy |
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| Alice |
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| Iris |
I can't really begin to describe the festival. It was, well, a festival. I was blown away by the chance of finding the whole thing in the first place. The amazing music only added to this excitement, grasping and taking me outside of the fact that I still, after several months, was in a foreign country. For the first time in a while, we all understood the same language; the manipulative words of music. And o did it speak to us. Thousands of people were all dancing and enjoying the same experience together. It was great.
Come 5am, it was time to head back. The metros were just opening and the pulse of the city was throbbing back to life as people entered the platform. I looked at what lay ahead of me: a pitiful sea of mustaches, plaid shirts and more non-perscription glasses than I could count. I'm not sure if I had found platform 9 3/4 or if I had just found the only hipster tunnel in the world. Either way, it was a site to behold and a great way to end the most ridiculous day of my life.
As always, enjoy.
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