Well, Easter is right around the corner, so it came as no surprise this morning when my French oral expression teacher broached the topic of the holiday with my class. Since we all come from somewhere other than France, the logical first question was:
So, yes, it’s May Day, and I should be writing about springtime in Paris and the scent of muguet, or better yet, the perpetual struggle of the working class, but I’m not. I didn’t end up getting the material I was hoping for in order to do that, but I got something else rather amusing.
May Day is a national holiday here in France, so I went out for a stroll around Paris this afternoon, expecting to see some May Day manifestations, the streets swollen with members of the Parti Socialiste mobilizing for Sunday’s second round presidential election. I guess I missed the big parades though because all I saw were lots of locals and tourists soaking up the sun and enjoying the musical offerings of various street performers … including one unlucky opera singer at the Louvre Pyramid.