I’ve said before that people are like places. When Rachel, Rosie and Jen came to stay we were the place that Paris was visiting (and I think a lot of Parisiens wished they’d never gone) and so it was last weekend: when me and Kat put on our matching rave stripes (otherwise known as our Adidas jackets) we became a place where ravers go for a good time, a place that never shuts, that always plays good music. At about four am, as me Kat, Mikee, Amy, Anna and El jumped up and down and got very sweaty, Kat said to me that she felt we could have been anywhere and that’s what I mean about the place thing. People might travel the world over but they always take themselves with them- they are essentially a place within a space.
Anyway, if we were the place then the space on Saturday night was La Bellevilloise, a huge building that houses exhibitions, concerts, designer shows and of course, club nights. Apparently there are loads of really nice parts to the building with olive trees and terraces, but the bit we mostly saw was the club downstairs which was all brick and arches, very dingy and perfect for the night.
As an American Person might say, 'it got a little crazy down there'. The crowd kept pushing the speakers over and people were crowd surfing and flinging themselves onto the stage. At first we were right at the front, but just before it got really busy an annoying girl kept being a dick and knocking into me, and not in the spirit of raviness either; in the spirit of nobheadedness. I ended up pouring most of my drink on her and her boyfriend took offence to that. He started banging into me as well, so before I got in to a fight that I would inevitably lose, having the body strength of a small marmot, we moved to the side of the stage and I am pleased to say that I thank that girl very much for being a dick, because it was the best space ever!
We were stood on the edge of the stage, close to the action but far from the mental moshpitting and speaker trashing happening at the front. I took loads and loads of photographs, but they all seem pretty shit and I prefer describing things with words anyway. Saying that...
Here is a video I found on Youtube to give you a better idea of the atmosphere:
After a solid five hours of sweaty, mad dancing, we decided to call it quits. We got the metro home and then a taxi as my metro line is still fucked up, but the journey didn't seem too bad. It was only when I looked at my photos the next day that I realised we had got on the metro at half five and had not reached my building until half six. We took pictures outside because the sun was coming up, but I can't put them on here because there is a famous landmark in the photos that will give away my coordinates to all the murderous stalkers I'm sure I have. It was Mikee and Kat's second sunrise of the weekend, this time on the other side of the North Sea. We shut the curtains to the morning and slept until lunchtime.
We managed to get out for about half two, not too bad I thought. We went straight to the Marais for falafal (queued up at L'as du Falafal, obviously) and for a look round the vintage shops where we all managed to buy something, despite being on a budget. From the Marais we went to meet Lauren and Abi, our other friend who was here for the weekend, at St Michel so the Paris Visitors could have a look at Shakespeare and Company and the Notre Dame and then we went for a meal which was 12 euros for the set menu and actually really nice, although Lauren has been before so it wasn't a random stroke of luck.
On the way home, we stopped off at the Eiffel Tower so Kat and Mikee could see it twinkling in the dark and the next day they went up it while I was work. After lunch we had a picnic on the Champs de Mars and then we had to rush back so I wasn't late picking up the little boy from school. On my way to work I took them to the bus stop and said goodbye and I can't believe that tomorrow it will be almost a week since they arrived.
But it is nothing to be sad about because tomorrow it will also almost be a week until... Mulletover!!