[ Jardin d'Acclimatation isn't by modern standard the most interesting amusement park in the world, but it's old and charming, the rides are classic, the carousel is beautiful, even in winter, no, actually - maybe especially in winter, colourful and bright against the white snow and the grey sky. Claude has been here many times growing up, he has both fond and less fond memories from this place.
Today, he's making new ones.
They're walking shoulder by shoulder, Jean Louis and him, following the trail around the grassy area with the Napoleon statue where they're hosting the ice sculpture exhibit. From this area of the park, they have a direct view over the lake and the Chinese(-inspired) section with the pavillion and the dragon ride. It isn't eight o'clock yet, so the light art hasn't been turned on yet, but even just in the golden light from the lamp posts lining the track, the ice looks like liquid diamond. Very beautiful.
He bumps Jean Louis' shoulder, careful not to make him spill his mulled wine which Claude bought them at the entrance. It's standard and a bit underseasoned, but the heat is good. The frost is biting tonight.
Last weekend, he spent in Luxembourg, getting papped in a way that actually made him a minor celebrity for approx. five minutes, because he was rubbing ankles with the major celebrity currently walking next to him. Glancing sideways at Jean Louis as they pass by a sculpture that looks like an abstract male figure kissing an abstract sleeping female figure, The Sleeping Beauty, let's talk about consent there for a moment, Claude halts to study it, wrapping his own fingers around his cup of wine. ]
I could learn to appreciate this. Being the famous foreign minister's slightly less famous boyfriend. [ A laugh. ] Sharing the spotlight is very socialist of you, Jean Louis.
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Today, he's making new ones.
They're walking shoulder by shoulder, Jean Louis and him, following the trail around the grassy area with the Napoleon statue where they're hosting the ice sculpture exhibit. From this area of the park, they have a direct view over the lake and the Chinese(-inspired) section with the pavillion and the dragon ride. It isn't eight o'clock yet, so the light art hasn't been turned on yet, but even just in the golden light from the lamp posts lining the track, the ice looks like liquid diamond. Very beautiful.
He bumps Jean Louis' shoulder, careful not to make him spill his mulled wine which Claude bought them at the entrance. It's standard and a bit underseasoned, but the heat is good. The frost is biting tonight.
Last weekend, he spent in Luxembourg, getting papped in a way that actually made him a minor celebrity for approx. five minutes, because he was rubbing ankles with the major celebrity currently walking next to him. Glancing sideways at Jean Louis as they pass by a sculpture that looks like an abstract male figure kissing an abstract sleeping female figure, The Sleeping Beauty, let's talk about consent there for a moment, Claude halts to study it, wrapping his own fingers around his cup of wine. ]
I could learn to appreciate this. Being the famous foreign minister's slightly less famous boyfriend. [ A laugh. ] Sharing the spotlight is very socialist of you, Jean Louis.