The recent French elections on Sunday May 6th in which François Hollande became the new president got me thinking a lot about Paris and specifically the month of May 2007 when I lived there. The days of the month and the days of the week in May 2012 are the same as they were in May 2007. So on Sunday May 6th 2007, Nicolas Sarkozy was elected president, defeating Ségolène Royal (Hollande's former long term partner - they had 4 kids together). I remember that election really well - the posters of both (see above) plastered all over Paris, the worries from people on the left about Sarkozy's ties with the media, the way TV stations in France can't broadcast anything about the election as the votes are coming in (like they do in Canada and the US) and can only make a dramatic announcement as to who the next president is after 8 pm when the polls have all closed. My friend S., who was living in London at the time, visited me that weekend and we sat in my apt watching Sarkozy's victory parade through Paris, culminating in a big celebration at the Place de la Concorde. Three weeks ago, I clicked through picture after picture on different news websites of Parisians celebrating Hollande's victory (or perhaps more accurately Sarkozy's defeat) at the Place de la Bastille. Then that night as I tried to fall asleep in my apartment in Montreal, all I could think about was that May of 2007, what it felt like, how I felt, etc. etc. It took me a long time to get to sleep that night.
I once read a review of the Kings of Leon's second album Aha Shake Heartbreak which said if the band's first album - Youth and Young Manhood - was the party, then Aha Shake Heartbreak was the hangover. For me, if April 2007 was the party, then May 2007 was definitely the hangover. April was all sunshine, and heat (hottest April on record at that point), tanning in parks, and drinking outside, and just generally being happy. May was grey, and rain (lots and lots of rain, cold November feeling rain) and big thunderstorms (where on coming back into Paris on the commuter train from the airport where I'd been teaching a group of Air France employees I could see how the sky had gotten instantly dark, and when I got off the metro I waited for a bit under a store front and then made a run for my apartment, getting absolutely and completely soaked in the process), and real hangovers. I drank too much while living in Paris, and as a result, endured some pretty bad hangovers.
That said, Paris is my most favourite place in the world to have a hangover. That's because on days (usually Saturdays) that I was hung over, I'd always do the same thing. I'd get up, drink lots and lots of water, put on some clothes, go down the street to the little magazine store owned by some of the only Chinese people I saw owning/working in stores the entire time I lived in Paris, buy at least one (if not two, sometimes they still sold the previous issue) issue of France's People magazine equivalent (or maybe it's a bit more tabloid-ey than People, I was never sure) Paris Match, come back to my apt, shower, get into bed with lots more water and my Paris Match and spend the rest of the day in bed. In one of the Paris Match issues I read in May 2007, I learned all about how Ségolène Royal (who had just lost to Sarkozy) had gone alone for a holiday on the beach in Tunisia (and there were pictures (I still remember clearly) of her in a blue bathing suit and a straw hat standing at the water's edge) to just relax and be alone after the election. It was in that article that I learned how she and François Hollande had broken up in 2006, but did not tell the press until after the 2007 election (see picture below). I also loved reading around then about Nicolas Sarkozy's wife at the time (he is now married to Carla Bruni) Cecilia who is very pretty (see picture below) and who apparently didn't even vote in the 2007 elections when her husband was elected president! Not only did I get to practice my French reading skills, but I got to be up to date on French gossip. It was perfect.
Another interesting thing about that May were the two long weekends in a row. May 1 - May Day - is a holiday in France. It fell on a Tuesday that year and so a lot of French people took a 4 day weekend (so they also took off Monday April 30th) and they called it "le pont" - taking the bridge. I, or the language school I worked for, did not take the "pont" and I had to work that Monday April 30th. But I only had to work until 1 pm and then I spent the rest of the day hanging out, eating crepes, and just generally having a good time. May 8 (which was the following Tuesday) marked the end of WWII in Europe and is also a holiday, and because it was another Tuesday, many people took another "pont." This one my work did take. S. left and went back to London late the afternoon of the 7th. That night I went to my friend husband's birthday party. He was turning 30 on May 8th and just before midnight there was a countdown to 12:00 am and then my friend brought in his cake. She told me later that it was cool his birthday was on a holiday because it meant he could always celebrate the night before and be assured lots of people would come since they wouldn't have to go to work the next day. To me that seemed like a lot of pressure on all his friends to always come to his birthday parties... But I got her overall point. I'm not sure I'd want my birthday to be on a holiday because yes, it's cool you never have to go to work/school on it, but sometimes it's nice to go to work/school/out on your birthday and have everyone celebrate you.
In April of 2007, I taught a 3 week session of pretty much beginner English to a class consisting of almost all women, and one man. One of the students asked me, in front of the whole class, how old I was. I didn't want to say "23" because it seemed so young and was almost definitely younger than all but maybe one or two of the students in the classroom. So I told them I was 28. It did feel a bit odd to just add 5 years to my age but the students seemed satisfied. This spring I actually am 28 (and am very glad I did not miss the intervening 5 years of my life/experience/etc.), and while I miss Paris still so much and still think about it regularly, my life is different now than it was then and I don't think I could have or would have wanted to be in Paris this past spring, even if all the days/weeks of the month matched up with how they were in 2007. Six months of a carefree existence was just the right amount for someone like me; although I do want to spend a multi-month stretch of time there again at some point in my life, taking walks through the city, drinking too much wine, and getting over my hangovers in bed with Paris Match.
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