Nuit Blanche

Every time I look down on this timeless town,
Whether blue or gray be her skies
Whether loud be her cheers or whether soft be her tears
More and more do I realize

That I love Paris in the springtime.
I love Paris in the fall.
I love Paris in the winter when it drizzles.
I love Paris in the summer when it sizzles.

--"I Love Paris" by Cole Porter

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I do love Paris in the fall. And I'm pretty sure I'll enjoy spring. I have my doubts about the drizzly winter. But, with all respects to Mr. Porter, I would add something to the above lyrics. I love Paris in the nighttime.

My most vivid memories of my first trip to Paris happened at night. There was the first evening in the hotel room when my two roommates and I huddled together at the window, staring intently at the Eiffel Tower to see it sparkle. And there was my last night in the city, when my French teacher took the group on a nighttime tour. Walking to the Arc de Triomphe, my teacher took one look at my face and told me, "You're going to come here to study some day. And you're going to love it."

He was right. Three and a half years later, I'm back in the City of Lights. And there's still something magical about Paris at night. So this Saturday night, I ventured out with thousands of Parisians to celebrate Nuit Blanche.

Nuit Blanche (which literally translates to "White Night") is a one-night festival that runs from 7:30 Saturday evening to 7:30 Sunday morning. Museums are opened all night, monuments are lit, street performers and art installations fill the streets. It may sound familiar to Chicagoans, as it was an inspiration for Looptopia.

I almost didn't make it out, as my complete and embarrassing intolerance for alcoholic beverages reared its ugly head (at a program sponsored event, no less). Lest you think I am an alcoholic, as the program staff almost certainly does, I have to admit that I drank less than half a glass of wine. LESS THAN HALF. And literally almost passed out. There was roaring in the ears, blurred vision, dizziness, the whole nine yards. I turned freakishly pale. Yes, I am always freakishly pale, but this was extreme. Edward Cullen had nothing on me. Of course, this could also have something to do with the fact that I had consumed an entire baguette and a pastry shortly before the reception.

Fortunately, my Irish kicked in just in time for me to salvage the night. First, some friends and I headed over the Louvre. It was unfortunately closed for some mysterious reason (we surmised a bomb threat), but that hardly mattered. Seeing the building at night was more than enough to satisfy me. Also, there was a group of French boys who were taking running starts, then leaping into the hedges of the Louvre, which promptly bounced them off. Which reminded me of Northwestern. Afterwards, we headed over to the Pont Alexandre III to watch the Eiffel Tower's hourly light show. This doesn't come close to doing it justice, but here's a taste of how it looked. Or at least, how it would have looked had I been craning my head at a 90 degree angle:




Finally, we walked over the Grand Palais at midnight and enjoyed a nearly empty Renoir exposition. I'd actually seen the exhibition before with my friend Aisha, but had no qualms about going through a second time. It's a beautiful exhibit, and the colors in the paintings are absolutely stunning. I actually enjoyed the show more the second time around because (a) there was almost no one there and (b) I get a strange thrill out of being in museums after hours. Yes, I am a nerd. Don't judge me.

The funny thing was, we missed more than we saw. I didn't watch a single street performer, or stand in a huge line to see the disco ball in the Jardin du Luxembourg. But the night was fantastic anyway. It reminded me of Looptopia (or, strangely, Dillo Day) in that it's not really about what you do or don't do. It's about the atmosphere of relaxation and fun that pervades the entire city. Even the Parisians, who I would not generally describe as laid-back, unwind and celebrate their city at its finest. Living here, I sometimes feel as though I'm missing the excitement that comes with being a tourist. But exploring Paris at nighttime never fails to give me some of that magic back.

A bientot,

Alanna