Bastille Day

Well.  I sat down to begin writing up a shiny new blog post on Monday, only to be interrupted by a skype call from my father.  No worries, blogging can wait (that word is too silly to represent any occupation that could be taken seriously, anyway).  Mere minutes into said phone call, just after he has gotten his microphone working so that I can actually hear him, the call is dropped.  Now, Skype has enabled me to freely (financially and easily) communicate with people anywhere from two feet to 5,000 miles away over the course of the last four years or so.  I consider it their right to drop a call now and again.  I told Nick to stop sucking up bandwidth and went on with my life.

Two days and one new modem later, we have internet again as well as a working phone line.  If you tried to contact me and couldn't, that would be why.

Anyway, adventures of late have included  Bastille day, Chantilly Chateau and racetrack, Musee D'Orsay and generally bumming around Paris, eating food and drinking wine (it's cheaper than mineral water).  The weather has been positively dreary and, by all accounts, no different than Seattle or the rest of western Washington.  Ranging from 70-80 degrees fahrenheit with a humidity you can basically taste, it's been surprisingly close to Costa Rica.

Bastille Day did dawn bright and sunny (according to Wikipedia this is always the case).  Nick didn't feel well, so I went down to see the military parade along the Champs Elysee by myself.  I saw a bit of the hustle and bustle, but soon realized that I would have had to get up a lot earlier to see much more than the backs of the people in front of me.  I decided to cut my losses and run, with the thought that most Parisians watch the parade on tv from the comfort of their own couches anyway.  Here are some photos that I snapped while trailing down the empty streets behind the other crazy people as we wound our way up to some sort of view.

People queuing.  I'm not sure what they call it in France.

Empty streets

People, behind people, watching people watch other people in snazzy uniforms.

Rockin' some shakos.  

A mostly empty street; a rare sight in Paris.

"Mon dieu, is Francois still in the honey bucket?"

After my brief foray out, allergies or bug hit me pretty hard.  Unfortunately, Nick and I both spent most of the day inspecting the insides of our eyelids, rather than taking part in national festivities.  By all sounds through the windows, it was quite a party by evening and early morning.

Also, blogger is getting right, left and center confused, so hopefully the pics look alright.