LIZ SAYS: Gay Pride Day in Paris is the only day that you can not use motorized transport to get from one side of the city to the other. There is a huge parade, everybody knows it and those who are not there, dancing on the flat back semis, wish they were. Your best bet is to find a cafe on the route and enjoy the show. Most cafes run a mojito (virgin and otherwise) special, so you get your little pink umbrella and an icy refreshing drink.
Two years in a row, I have had to traverse the pulsing rainbow flagged city, trying to cut through the parade.
Picture any Hitchcock movie. Outdoor scene. Our innocent hero is running, cutting through the crowd, happy carnival music playing as he frantically tries to cut his way through the party hearty masses. He jumps in a taxi to avoid the heaving masses, the taxi driver says, sure, he'll take him. Ten euros and two meters later, Jimmy Stewart/ Bob Cummings, our innocent running guy, jumps out of the taxi, while the driver just laughs. Sweating, our hero returns to clawing through the revelers, desperately trying to get 'there'.
Yeah, well, I was stupidly and desperately trying to make an appointment the first year, and the second year, Dick got stranded on the right bank for some reason and I had to meet him and bring him back. Oh, yeah, I remember, the bike broke down.
So, this year, I decided to skip the gauntlet and spend Gay Pride Day in Amsterdam, where the parade is on the water!
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