Renowned Festivals
The French have a word that we don't : fêter. It's almost like "to celebrate" but as anyone who learns another language knows, there are always nuances behind words that cannot ever be translated. Whereas we don't really need this word in English, the French most definitely do: here, they fête everything.
Fete des Fous
In Nice, they celebrate les fous - the crazy - like the French have been doing for hundreds of years. Each February, right up until Mardi Gras, the respect instilled in French people since they were young is abandoned: the tu and vous that students of French stress over have no place here.
Today, children and adults alike purchase dozens of bombs, aerosol canisters of silly string, to attack one another, covering people from head to toe in pink, yellow, orange, blue, and green. You can buy a churro filled with Nutella while you watch the parade (deep fried dough filled with what I have been known to refer to as orgasm on a spoon can't be beat). Floats mocking everything under the sun pass by. The most famous is the roi du festival : when the president of France was Jacques Chirac, he was affectionately called "Chi Chi" and dressed as a jester.
On the last day of the festival, they set off fireworks at the beach and burn the roi - king -, an idea foreign to most other cultures. Is there anywhere else in the world where the president would find it amusing to watch a caricature of himself being burned to a cinder as his citizens sang and drank in the moonlight?
Fete des Violettes
In the medieval village perchée of Tourrettes-sur-Loup, they celebrate violets atop the cliff looking over the Mediterranean Sea. In early March, when the rest of the world is bundling up against the cold, purple takes over this small town. Only the French could celebrate something so simple so well.
The smell of violets is overwhelming as you walk through the town, browsing the artisan shops usually devoted to local paintings and crafts, now peddling everything from candied violets to violet jam, soap, and candles. The three-day festival culminates in a bataille des fleurs, literally, a flower battle. This tradition shared by the French and the Italians alike dates to medieval times, but even the French teenagers join in during the festival.
Fete du Citron
In Menton, they celebrate lemons every March. The tourist office is covered with posters advertising the month-long festival and the activities that are available there. The bakeries in town move lemon and orange cakes and tarts to the forefront of their window displays, and you can purchase a snack to munch on while exploring the centerpiece of the festival: the garden.
Each year, the festival has a different country as a theme, and a garden constructed entirely of citrus fruit is built in the center of the city for citizens and tourists to explore. The year India was chosen, an elephant was imported, adorned with a crown of lemons and tangerines, and as he stood in front of the lime and orange Vishnu, giving rides to the adoring public, he gratefully accepted pieces of panini placed on the end of his trunk.
Festival du Film
In Cannes, they famously celebrate films. Come May, it's nearly impossible to walk down streets that were empty just weeks before. All along the Croisette, the boulevard that runs along the Mediterranean coast, and up and down the chic Rue d'Antibes, stars trying to keep their identity secret and their fans enjoy the eternal summer weather. Each day, fifteen thousand people invade the small city from the world over to see what started as such a small festival devoted to a shared love of film.
The French are famous in America for being snooty, for not knowing how to have fun. The stereotypical Gauloise-smoking, beret-wearing Frenchman would turn up his nose at something as simple as a party to celebrate citrus. But especially in the south, this stereotype is far from the truth. On the riviera, the French know how to celebrate. Even the smallest most insignificant of things is a good reason for a fête.
