I decided to leave the city for midsummer. A hard decision since last year was so stunning here in Berlin.
I decided to go to Paris.
Paris is probably the 2nd best place for midsummer, if you can’t spend it in Dalarna or at your summerhouse in the Archipelago.
I told the story one year ago, but in case you missed it:
“The Midsummer night is full of hidden powers. Especially when it comes to love and fertility. At home they say that if you do things right you will dream of who is your husband to be. But there are tons of rules. Like if you pick the flowers from the churchyard, the spell is stronger.
It did not work this time ether. I did not dream of the Man to marry. Ether I will never get married. Or I just did something wrong.
I really really tried hard this time. Just as hard as every other Midsommar Night in the past. I jumped 7 fences. I stole 7 flowers. I slept with them under my pillow. And I did not say a word all night. We were laughing through the whole procedure, but I think that is how it should be.
If you are not allowed to laugh I do not want to get married anyways.”
So if you see 3 blond girls running around in the 7th wearing their white dresses, stealing flowers at any possible location, jumping over anything that can be concidered a fence, well, then it is me and my ladies.
Of course we are supposed to be quite. But I can assure you that we will not be.
I think we will be on the other side of the river, in the 7th Arrondissement, since all the people we know are in the Marais. Not because I would be embarrassed, but because people just would not understand. And I would never be able to cope with all the snaps you tend to get invited to (Berlin last year was like a free Bar night).