Nuit Blanche literally translates to white night, but means an all nighter in old gay Paris! Every year the city designates a Saturday night where national monuments and selected vistas are lit up with unusual lighting and effects, not otherwise seen that last into the early morning dawn.
A perfect time for insomniacs to have something to do, instead of tossing for hours in their bed. Several lines of the Metro were running all night for the occasion. Paris is not considered an all night city like New York. With the last subway to catch before 12 :30, except on the weekends a little later, there is tendency to call it a night by that time.
Pairs is so incredibly beautiful during the day, but at night that beauty takes on a complete another dimension! The energy changes to a higher intensity when the night lights come on. It becomes more playful and frivolously sensuous too.
There have been times I would sit on the banks of the Seine, at the tip of Ile de la Cité, called Vert Galant waiting to see the first lights of the city go on. I then would walk back along Ile St. Louis, following the sparkling ripples of gold and light that danced and shimmered on the waves of the Seine.
Last Saturday night , I struck out in the drizzly rain with umbrella at hand well after the lights came on to discover anew the city that I love. First I headed towards Place de la Concorde, which is always magical to see at night. The Obelisk was being flooded with ever-changing lighting that seem to twirl up to the top. Towering in the back was the Eiffel Tower with its rotating spotlight caught by my shutter as wavy wanes of light.
Over to the side was a huge tent where artists were painting murals, and free portraits. A skit involving women marauding behind veils left me indifferent, so I hustled on in search of other things to see in this magical city.
Next stop was over to Hotel de ville, lit up magnificently as usual, then up Rue de Archives to the Musée des Archives Nationales, where the court-yard was overfilled with shiny bubbles glittering in the lights as they slowly floated upwards before they burst.
Retracing my steps, I headed back down towards the Seine, heading towards Ile Saint Louis . At Place Baudoyer in the marais ,the square was filled with people tossing umbrellas in the air that caught flight in the winds before they slowly drifted down. As it was well after midnight, merriment reigned on the faces on a lot of folks who could not resist sharing their fun. A little loud and boisterous, but otherwise fairly tame.
By this time I was feeling called to have a little treat that was promised to all who came by the Chambre Professionnelle des Boulangers-Patissiers on Quai D’Anjou on Ile St Louis. Crossing over Pont Marie, the banks of the Seine shimmered in various colors of hot pink to green.
It was not long before the smell of croissants filled the air and I knew I was getting close to their hallowed halls that I had always heard about, but never been inside. Located in one of the priciest areas of Paris, a line had already gathered. The entrance was decorated with murals of bakers from the past and lined with ancient mixing barrels and wooden kneading boards.
I was shocked to see a glassed in professional baking area with multiple bakers all dressed in white bent over busily shaping the croissants and little breads baking for their guests. I thought this was going to be a bureau and chamber of business that regulates and controls all the bakers of Paris, not an on site bakery.
Ladies were busy stuffing little paper bags with fresh croissants and petit breads. When I finally got mine, there was no temptation to wait till outside before savoring the flaky warm morsel in hand.
Last stop was passing along Notre Dame lit in all her gothic glory, before heading home. The night reminded me that the mysterious nature of Paris is brought out and enhanced by the shadows that play upon our eyes. The darkness hides whatever may not be esthetic, but thrusts forward in prominence all the dazzling beauty of this city of lights.