Lighting Up Time

Having thought that Paris had eschewed much of the vulgarities of Oxford Street, I was on the Champs-Elysées  last night which was flooded with lights; these, it would seem, themed differently every winter, with light-drenched trees stretching all the way from the Place de l’Etoile and the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Concorde. This year the lightshow consisted of electric blue neon on every tree which looked like snowfall trickling down on them. I’m such a tourist..

5 thoughts on “Lighting Up Time

  1. I think (rather uncharitably, I admit) that you're actually secretly enjoying the “I'm in Paris and you're not” element of your current state.
    “Tourist” is not necessarily the noun I might have chosen. But then again, I've already admitted to feeling uncharitable. I'm suspecting it is the absence of mince tarts in my life which is creating the angst. *sigh*


  2. I'm not in Paris. I'm in Geneva, as it happens. Very Swiss and organised. Home from home, really. Oh, yes. I believe that they're called 'mince pies' in England. 'Tart' has an altogether different meaning.


  3. Geneva? So writing about Paris was a red herring?

    The English eat mince pies (among other things) and Canadians eat mincemeat tarts. I'd never had a tart with a lid before meeting the Brits. In any case, the filling is the same and that's the important bit. Even more important, there appears to be none had in Kuwait. With or without lids. * sigh*


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