VE Day (May 8)

Today was another public holiday.  Although some shops were open, thee was generally less activity than during the holiday a week ago.  Because I was heading into town early, I grabbed a raspberry brioche for breakfast.

I looked and looked, but could not find any information about when the events at the Arc de Triomphe would take place.  At 9am, I thought I may have missed it - perhaps the commemorations were like Anzac Day, at the crack of dawn?  No, I was told, the presidents would be coming around 11am.  In my head I expected a procession, a march,  a big event, especially as the guard rails were in place all along the Champs Elysee.  Close to the Arc I saw corrals/pens created out of the guard rails, and people were being literally patted down before allowed entry.  I thought I may as well join the crowd.  I was all settled into my possie front and centre when two police nationale officers moved us on - to the previously empty "pen" closer to the Arc.  Not bad, except I'd just heard the start of the procession - oh no!  I got into position just in time to see what I thought would be the first of many bands.

No, it was not what I expected, because they were it.  Next came members of (I think) the 3 services, each of them coming together in formation fright in front of where we were standing.

They then marched to the Arc.  Then came car, after car, after car, of dignitaries.  Some cars had flags, some not.  You could tell some were diplomats because they were driving their national car.  For example, this Chevy Suburban tells you straight away where these guys are from, even if you can't see the flag, or the enormous entourage..

It was a kind of guessing game to see who was who or what was what.  The focus was really the Arc, not the arrival, so there was no real procession.  Meanwhile, a camera crew was going along the outside of the crowd and they interviewed the man next to me (if you happen to be watching French TV I may be in shot!) and then asked me why I was there - alas!  I could not answer and apologised for not speaking French.  The camerman later got down and dirty to get an interesting perspective.

We guessed the President had arrived when a few dozen motorcycles flanked an arriving car.

The crowd started chanting Nicho-LA, Nicho-LA, Nicho-LA.  The event was basically a wreath-laying ceremony.  It was simple and respectful and the bank music and male choir was a pleasure ot listen to.  There was a large screen so we could see what was happening.  Once the formalities were over, it looked like Sarkozy was going to leave, but the crowd started the Nicho-LA chant again - and also mer-CI Sarko-ZY.  It was great.  Then he took everyone by surprise by doing a walkabout - I couldn't believe it - the crowd erupted, media and minders start running towards him - what a scrum!  His car crawled along ready to make the getaway when he'd finished pressing the flesh.

He came down the line, using both hands to shake our outstretched ones - mine included!  The woman next to me was beside herself - he'd shaken both her hands.  Her excitement captured the interest of the media - here she is being interviewed.

Given that the ceremony related to WWII, it was fitting to see this statue as I made my way down the avenue.