Les Pompiers de Paris

It has been quite a while since I posted my last blog about our time in Paris – 6 years in fact. I didn’t have time to relate all our adventures before I left the City of Lights, and as soon as I got back to Canada, a busy life took over. However, there are a couple of stories that I have been eager to tell you about, and this one is a real favourite.

Near the end of our stay in Paris, I was sitting in the living room of our small Montmartre flat one morning while David was at work. All was quiet in the building as usual and I was probably checking emails on my computer. Suddenly there was a big hubbub out in the street and what sounded like a lot of activity. I peaked out through the curtains to find out what was creating this disturbance. Then I grabbed my camera.

This was what I saw – a firetruck plus a whole gaggle of firemen with golden helmets. Les pompiers de Paris were on my doorstep!

What was going on? Was there a fire in the building? Would I have to evacuate? These questions raced through my mind as I continued to view the scene on the street below. However, no one seemed to be coming into the building and there was no smell of smoke and no fire alarm.

The next thing I knew there was a ladder being set up near our bedroom window. Now I really wondered what was happening? Was there someone or something on the floor above us that needed to be rescued?

I moved to the bedroom window to get a better look. Whoa! Now there was a fireman climbing up the ladder right beside my window. I surreptitiously clicked the shutter on my camera, delighting in the shots I was getting, but still wondering if I was going to have to put my coat on soon.

However, there was still no sign of any emergency. So I continued to document the event.

By the way, don’t you just love those helmets??? These two didn’t look like there was anything to be worried about; so I began to relax.

In a couple of minutes the fireman came back down,  the ladder was removed and put back on the truck. I was still wondering why he had gone up the ladder in the first place, but it seemed to be over.

Whoops! Here they come again – and what is it they have looped over their shoulders? Hoses!

Suddenly, there were sounds of boots pounding on stairs and loud shouting in the hallway as they raced up the stairwell. I kept expecting them to bang on my door and yell instructions to me in French. Would my limited French be enough to help me get through this emergency unscathed?

It sounded as if the hoses were being dragged through the hallways and I listened intently for any sign from other tenants that we needed to get out of there. Silence – no sound from any other flat.

Then it dawned on me – this is a training session. These guys are going through a training drill under the watchful eye of the two supervisors who were so calmly watching everything.

The sounds in the hallway calmed down as “les pompiers” retreated, dragging their hoses back out into the street where they carefully rolled them back up and stowed them in the truck.

The supervisors, one of them a woman, compared notes on the drill presumably finding everything was satisfactory. I was left marveling at the differences between Canada and Paris. Practice drills for firemen held in inhabited buildings with no notice (that I knew of) to the occupants.

It certainly made for an exciting morning and a great story!