Bastille Day in Paris!

Bastille Day, or France's equivalent of the 4th of July. I'm pretty sure there's not a better day to be in Paris. It was truly unforgettable.

We started off our day at the Luxembourg Gardens, the lush park lined with colorful flowers, stone sculptures and -- oh yeah -- the stunning building in which the French Senate meets. Think Central Park plus the Capitol Building with a European flair that simply has not been duplicated in the U.S. We had a magnificent picnic -- bread and cheese (vegan for my mom and I, non-vegan for our husbands who haven't had cancer and like to roll the dice on diet as a result) and nectarines and avocado and champagne. After detoxing from my days of half pints in the UK, I finally had a little bubbly after abstaining for at least five days. Hard to beat a mimosa in the Luxembourg Gardens on Bastille Day.

You know, despite my focus on fitness and healthy eating, I saw on the first leg of this trip how easy it is to slide into less-than-perfect lifestyle choices. Chips and cider are incredibly delicious, and working out hurts sometimes. And once you slide into bad habits, they are really hard to break. But it can be done and I even did it while on vacation, so take heart if you're still slacking in some areas. Just resolve to get your butt in gear and don't take no for an answer.

Ok, back to Bastille Day.

We followed our picnic with a walk around town, popping into boutiques here and there and taking the plunge into Ernest Hemingway's old haunt, the Shakespeare & Co bookstore. I loved walking around the cramped aisles filled with books, and remembered "Papa," one of my favorite writers. Then I had to get back to the hotel to work on my book a little bit before dinner. I was too inspired.

Dinner wasn't just a great meal - it was a fantastic experience. We went to The Gentle Gourmet, a tiny establishment run out of a Paris flat turned B&B. The meal was three courses long, completely vegan, and totally delicious. The first course consisted of quinoa, cucumber, and tomato, fashioned to look a little like tuna tartare but tasting equally as good (I'm not going to say better because I know first-hand how friggin' good tuna tartare is). Our main course consisted of the loveliest tofu steak I've ever eaten, leeks, semi-glazed carrots and a few fingerling potatoes. Dessert topped all the others: vanilla ice cream with a poached peach. While we gobbled down this gourmet meal, we sat at a cozy table with fellow vegans and their plus ones. All were American but one Aussie couple, and all were from California but two Floridians. Dinner discussion was lively and fun, but I didn't mention why I was vegan. Why bring up cancer on Bastille Day, right? Especially when all that crap is behind me. Especially when the other folks at the table were vegan for strictly political reasons and might be horrified at the fact that I miss cheeseburgers and salami sometimes.

After dinner, we walked as close as we could to the Eiffel Tower for the impending firework show. I have never been a part of a crowd that huge (millions were out and about -- think NYC on NYE but times about 20), and I've never been shoulder to shoulder and back to belly with so many strangers. By the end of the magnificent show, I actually really liked all those strangers, my fellow sardines. We oohed and ahhed at the fireworks, and even though the dude right next to me was smoking (seriously, Paris? STOP SMOKING!), I loved him when he looked with wonderment at the night sky, shouting "Magnifique! Beautiful!" as if he was a child.

The show lasted for nearly an hour and was the most fabulous fireworks display I've ever seen. And while I watched those beautiful lights light up the sky and the Eiffel Tower, I couldn't help but feel utterly grateful. For being in Paris, for celebrating France's triumph, and for celebrating my own.