Throughout France music is celebrated on the solstice, June 21st. The official sunset was several minutes before 10:00 p.m., the weather was ideal (c. 20C) with no rain in sight, it was a Friday night, just perfect. I packed my camera bag, took the métro to République, walked north toward Gare de l'Est to visit a church I had not noticed before, and then slowly meandered south, to Saint Eustache, then over to some bridges. But by 9:00 p.m. I finally realized that I was almost too tired to put one foot in front of the other--I had forgotten to eat supper (hard to imagine). So I headed home. When I saw the final climb of 21 steps at the métro's exit, I thought, "Well, pilgrims used to crawl, so I'll make it one way or the other." I made it, and was in bed shortly after sunset, legs aching from 17.5 km of slow walking. Here are some photos of the evening.
I started by heading toward the canal, where many people were enjoying the sunshine. This store front is clever. It is a shoe shop.
Now I'm basically lost, but sort of heading south.
I found the Église Saint-Laurent in the 10th district. A Mass was about to commence, so I had time to take only a few photos. My initial impression is that the exterior is more interesting than the interior, but I still have Laon in my mind.
The occasional street person can be found, though this is more common in the larger cities in the States. These chaps accumulated quite a collection of items. I wondered whether some will possibly be sold or traded. There is a flourishing black/underground market among immigrants and street people.
My ears perked up when I heard a brass band playing energetically. So I followed the sound and found this small group of amateurs who played, danced, sang, and just had fun in general. Their enthusiasm was infectious and bystanders were enthralled.
Less than half a block up the street was this tiny alley, well-lit, possibly an ancient right of way that is still maintained. I saw quite a few people take this shortcut.
Many bookstores wheel out boxes of less expensive books. I bought a novel about a photographer. I figured, 'who could possibly be more interesting?'
We were now well into Happy Hour (5:00-8:00), that time when you start to close the day with a little something to make you--happy. By 8:00, most restaurant kitchens are ready to go, some earlier; tourist areas have learned that some tourists even want to eat by 5:00. Partly, they are simply exhausted, ready to sit and eat, before being revived for another several hours of walking.
The King George pub attracted more French patrons than British. I thought a beer might be nice, but the pub was so busy that I would have needed to stand, and drinking by myself while standing is not a high priority.
Yes, I took this only because of the sign, "Brides to Be".
Electric scooters are ubiquitous, and dangerously driven. French children grew up riding their tiny scooters to and from school. They are superb navigators. But add a good strong battery, no helmet, and adults expecting to move with traffic = trouble. Some people are hoping that legislation will catch up with this new development in city transportation. I sense that these Chinese scooters have overtaken the rented bikes, which can be picked up almost everywhere in Paris. But you have to park those bikes in special places, whereas you can walk away from your scooters absolutely anywhere in Paris, anywhere! You can drive these scooters on the roads, on the bike ways, and if those are clogged, on the crowded sidewalks. Legislation is coming, I hope.
These two young people are checking their GPS to see which way to go. Believe me, I understand.
Another small group of musicians had gathered and were pumping out amplified music on some minor street that is largely residential above the stores on ground level. This pedestrian street was ideal for families with young children, who felt right at home. Remember, apartment dwellers do not expect children to have play areas covered with lush grass.
These three enjoyed swaying with small small dance movements while hearing the music. The man kept fanning himself and drinking water.
In my youth, those pants would not even have been donated to the Thrift Store.
I finally made it to Saint Eustache, which was offering music performances for 36 hours straight. I should have checked the schedule because the organ was not being featured. Instead, there was a rock band (I don't know the various terms for bands, nor what they differentiate). The basilica had 'band lighting' and amplification, the place was packed, and there was a long line of people waiting to be admitted. I had come just in time, but left after taking a few shots, willing to make room for others.
Not everybody was listening intently.
I then came upon a small group of people singing along with some instrumentalists. They had access to the music texts by searching on their smartphones.
The sun was going to set in about 45 minutes, but I was tired, so I took a few more shots and headed back to the métro.
On the way back, I peered down on hundreds of young people enjoying their picnic suppers while seated on the broad sidewalk and the (by now closed) street which runs down along the River Seine.
I slept well.
Janice adds: Evan's feet looked terrible--very swollen and red :-(
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