Beyond the Bastille - Celebrating La Fête Nationale in a Big Way

(July 14, 2021) In July 2021, Bob and I found ourselves the lucky winners of the apartment lottery, placing us in Paris for our very first visit to the apartment (post COVID lockdown) during the week of La Fête Nationale, otherwise known as Bastille Day. Each year, on July 14th, the French take time out to celebrate the moment in their history when ordinary people rose up to challenge the absolute rule of the ancien regime of royal and aristocratic classes led by King Louis XVI (husband of the infamous Marie Antoinette) -- an act that would eventually result in the establishment of the constitution-based First Republic of France. On July 14, 1789, a gang of impoverished and angry citizens broke into the armory at Les Invalides, seized weapons and then, in search of more weapons and gunpowder, stormed the Bastille, the 14th century fortress-turned-prison that had become a symbol of political oppression and tyranny. (www.worldhistory.org/Storming_of_the_Bastille/).

Although it would take another 10 years of conflict, now known as the French Revolution, this act of rebellion in July 1789 is the moment that is now commemorated and celebrated as France’s most significant national holiday, La Fête Nationale.

On the morning of the 14th, we don’t know quite what to expect. At the very least, we are planning to make our way across town by sundown to claim a spot on the Champ de Mars, that extremely valuable rectangle of Paris real estate that has appeared in millions of photos and is widely recognized as the absolute best location for full-length views of the Eiffel Tower -- and even more so on the evening of La Fête Nationale, when the spectacular fireworks display supposedly outshines all others.

At the apartment, as we’re preparing for our day, we hear an unusually loud hum of engines and feel a strange vibration in the air. We swing open the curtained windows in time to see a squadron of military jets flying slowly in formation almost directly above our street. The spectacle, in contrast with the ancient and ornate facades of the buildings across from us, is at once oddly incongruous and breathtaking.

For the next 15 minutes, we watch this parade of military aircraft breeze by, all maintaining the same flight path over the central region of the city. It’s not clear from our vantage point how this thrilling fly-by is supposed to fit into the day’s official festivities -- all we know is, it almost feels as if it was meant especially for our viewing. Eventually, full of caffeine, croissants and a special jolt of adrenaline from the unexpected display, we head out for the day.

Much later, after a visit to the Bois de Vincennes on the east side of the city, we make our way back into central Paris to prepare for the evening of fireworks and revelry. We stop at an épicerie for snacks, including a demi-baguette and beer, and at a fromagerie for a nice chunk of Tomme de Savoie, my favorite French cheese. We have learned that the fireworks are not to start until 23:00, or 11 p.m. We clearly are in for a looong evening.

We cross the Pont des Arts (known by some as “the Carrie bridge”) on foot and into the 6th Arrondissement on the Left Bank. In addition to the late rush hour traffic, the city seems to be bristling with an air of excited anticipation, with more and more pedestrians lining the streets. I’m getting a bit antsy about finding a good spot on the Champ de Mars and, after learning that the Métro might be mobbed and that a few train lines have actually been shut down for the evening, we decide to catch a cab to get us there more quickly.

The sad news from our cabdriver is that, because of COVID concerns, the Champ de Mars is actually off limits for the evening. He drops us off within a block of the champ where we spot barricades and police officers. We also see groups of disbelieving citizens clamoring to get past the police and onto the champ, but this is a non-starter.

We then begin to jockey for a place to camp out for the evening, and happen upon a small square from which we have not only a pretty good view of the Eiffel Tower but a view of the lovely golden onion-domed Cathédrale de la Sainte-Trinité as well. There is no grass to speak of, so we claim a curbside, but the crowds quickly claim more and more of the area.

Finally, the fireworks begin -- at least we surmise that they have begun because we can hear them. Unfortunately, from our vantage point, the majority of the display is not visible. By now, we have accepted the situation and just relax until the grand finale where a burst of light and color finally comes into view.

The night is not a loss, though. Despite the disappointment of missing out on our Champ de Mars picnic with the amazing views, we are buzzing from the frenetic and enthusiastic energy of the crowds of people around us. The streets are packed with cars, busses and motorcycles, and people laughing, shouting, singing, drinking champagne, their arms draped around each other as they collectively make their way through the streets. We follow the crowds that are heading back to the Right Bank, across the gorgeous and opulent Pont Alexandre III. The river is sparkling with light and activity from the countless Bateaux Mouches gliding by, the cruise boats decked with party decorations and lights, and mobs of jubilant fêtards celebrating this sultry summer night.

Once on the Right Bank, we continue along the riverside, passing the looming lights of the majestic Hôtel de Ville, eventually snaking our way down Rue François Miron and back to our tiny pied-à-terre, where we sink into our bed, exhausted by the events of the day.

As I’m drifting off to sleep, I am grateful for the opportunity this day gave us to share in a very special, uniquely French moment, one that will eventually weave itself into the complicated but illustrious fabric of the history and culture of France.