moulin rouge

I had a friend over for the weekend. She was convinced that she has seen everything there is to see in Paris so we wouldn’t have to worry about doing touristy stuff but could have long lunches and drink cocktails. On Friday, over a cosmopolitan she remembered that she has never seen Moulin Rouge – the building. Nor Sacre Coeur and in fact there were several other things we just must must do. So no plans changed into full plan.

On Saturday we took the metro up to Montmartre, admired the view over the city and tried to get ourselves lost in the small swirly streets. When we eventually got to the red windmill it was a definite photo time. “You think we could get tickets to the show?” WHAT? We went to find out and it turned out that there in fact were two cancellations for the 23h show. In the spur of moment and due to a temporary moment of insanity we booked them.

On our way back to the flat we ended up into the middle of the gay pride parade. While watching the half naked men dancing on the slowly moving trucks we both sighed – what a waste. Oh well.

I had a manicure and equipped with long, red nails we moved back towards the Moulin Rouge. We followed the man with black trousers and a red jacket to our seats and soon were offered a bottle of champagne by the waiter all dressed in white. Classy. Or kitsch.

The show was amazing. We were stunned. It really was amazing.

In the metro on the way back we started talking and still at three AM we were talking. We were astonished and excited. That was so great. Really a must at least once in your life. Seriously.

And I think we finished the bottle of champagne.