Okay, I am reporting back about St Patrick's Day in Paris and the news ain't good. There may have been good celebrations of this holiday somewhere in this city, but not where I was. You might think that an Irish pub would be a good place in which to celebrate such an event, correct? Well, not if you are in the worst Irish pub in the world (and I have been in Irish pubs everywhere from Sligo to Singapore to San Francisco, so trust me, I have a pretty comprehensive basis for comparison).
I still had a good time, because I was with a really fun group of people, but really, an Irish pub which wasn't even playing Irish music on St Patrick's Day? Disgraceful. Personally, I think the real high point was when the band (who were all as French as beret-wearing poodles) played a reggae version of "Englishman in New York". Let's just think about that for a moment, shall we? FRENCH band playing a song written by an ENGLISHMAN about another ENGLISHMAN in NEW YORK. Played REGGAE-STYLE. On St Patrick's Day!!! I just, I.... really, there are just no words, so I will just leave you to imagine the horror of it.
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