Masterpiece Before the Curtains

As was mentioned in an earlier post, the Rugby World Cup is currently taking place in France. As I'm sure you can imagine, there a many festivities surrounding these events. One of these is the massive screens situated around Paris that display the matches.

During our time in Paris, we were lucky enough to attend the screening of a game between France and the New Zealand All Blacks team. New Zealand was the favored winner and from the few rumblings I had heard about the match things did not look well for France.

We climbed out of the subway station at the Hotel De Ville, whose massive courtyard was filled with the most people I have ever seen in my life. Everywhere around there were Rugby zealots with flags on there faces and in their hands. We began the arduous process of finding a place to sit among the massive crowds.

I will spare you all the actual details of the match, except the fact that we won. I feel kind of like a moron saying "we" as I am not French by any means, but sitting there with all those people around, erupting with them every time France scored a goal, booing the New Zealand team, and ultimately enjoying the pinnacle of the celebration when the game had ended as champagne bottles sprayed all around and flares lit up the night, I felt like I sure as hell wanted to be.

We waited after the game as the crowds dissipated, then we walked off into the night heading off to a party in celebration of the beautiful victory. The streets were alive, flooded with joyous pedestrians who still chanted the praises of the team and cars that utilized their horns to the fullest extent.

Friendly people walked around us and told us all about themselves while bombarding us with questions. It was a beautiful night.

We finally arrived at the apartment of a girl named Alta, daughter of the French playwright Yasmina Reza. The party that ensued was massively delightful. For the most of the night I sat there watching people dance.

They fucking danced all night long. It was beautiful. Watching them move around I felt like I was surrounded by the classic, romantic, fantasy France. That apartment was some romantic time capsule with scenes that played out like the massive canvas paintings in the Louvre.

Thank you to all the the people from that night, the gregarious Pianist, Vincent-who may be the best dancer in the world, the sultry couple who passionately threw each other around on the dance floor, the two girls who stepped perfectly with together, Alice of course, the young man who loved Queen, and everyone else.