Of An Afternoon's Stroll In Paris . . .

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A series of twists of fate took me in to Paris yesterday, and as I'm never one to look a gift horse in the mouth and ask what it had for breakfast, I decided to make the most of it and take a short stroll before catching a late afternoon train back home, sweet home again. I had not gotten very far however before I realized that I was up to my eyeballs in alligators, and worse, they were even crawling down the walls to ambush passers by from above ! I shot a photo and ran for my life.
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I hadn't gotten very far though before I ran into this menacing looking purple bear in a party hat. Decidedly, the day was going to take some strange turns, I lost no time putting some distance between the bear and my butt, those teeth looked rather sharp.
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... and ran smack into a "Resistance" protestor firing off projectiles for unclear reasons; decidedly, a lot of tension and energy in the air.
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This gentleman seemed to want to hand me a glass of something, but he looked a bit shady in his trenchcoat, so I made tracks away from there.
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Someone had tried to set the street on fire . . .
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Things were definitely heating up, a troupe of headless belly dancers were shaking and strutting their stuff.
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Even the graffiti took on fluorescent tones, Paris was burning hot...
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Everywhere, people were dancing in the streets !
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Strange scenes from the gold mines of Paris street art...
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I couldn't help but think that if James had been here, he would have wanted to see it all reflected; a scooter was conveniently parked in front to allow the Quadrophenia cover art version for James Weekend Reflections.
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A bit further up the same street, a facade of windows was reflected in the plate glass of a shop where all these colors of powder were waiting in glass jars to unleash their colorful energy.
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Some nearly swooned at the thought of all those colors getting swirled on the breeze.
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I didn't hang around to find out what others were thinking, I feared the worst...
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Alligators, bears, dancers, colors, swooning blondes, why should a fox wearing glasses surprise me ?
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Or a monkey bearing books about death with a giraffe for company ? Isn't Paris the place where surrealism was invented ?
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So why not stop into a bar called the Pink Flamingo to try to catch one's breath and gather one's wits ?
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Before heading up a Montmartre street where pink houses can be found on the way to Sacré Coeur ?
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