Bateaux Parisiens

There has been considerable French-bashing afoot lately, especially since the invasion of Iraq began. I took a trip to Paris in April of 2002 and had a remarkable experience there that deserves notice.

My lady friend and I decided to splurge on a dinner cruise aboard one of the Bateaux Parisiens, long, sleek luxury craft that ply the waters of the Seine while offering gourmet dining and vintage wines (believe me, I don't usually live like this). The boats leave from near the Eiffel Tower, cruise slowly east past the Ile de la Cite and the Ile Saint-Louis and beyond, and return on the opposite side of the river.

The meal, ambiance, and, of course, the scenery were breathtaking--Paris is indeed the City of Lights. On our return, the Eiffel Tower was lit spectacularly, and I thought we were preparing to dock. The Bateau continued west past the Tower, however, until we passed the smaller, French version of the Statue of Liberty, poised on a tiny island in the Seine.

Facing Lady Liberty, the Captain engaged the docking engines so that the boat began to slowly pinwheel, giving passengers on both sides a chance to admire the statue. Suddenly, the band began to play "God Bless America". Everyone on that boat--passengers, crew, waitpersons...everyone--joined in the singing. The Danes sitting next to us began to weep, and they were not alone.

As the last bars of the anthem faded, and I thought the scene could not possibly get more emotional, the band broke into, "New York, New York". People continued to sing, and now were smiling through their tears. When the music ended, strangers began hugging, and saying to one another in a variety of accents, "I am a New Yorker."

I don't know if all that would happen today. But it happened that evening, and I shall never forget it.