When asked, you usually say your favourite colour is yellow (although dark pink pops up now and again), and there was a time when your answer to all manner of questions, involving colours or not, was always yellow.
Do you want the green spoon or the pink spoon? The yellow one!
What do you want for Christmas? Yellow!
Like the Coldplay song it was all yellow.
Beirut, however, is not all yellow, although it does have its own particular associations with the colour (another story from another blog). And despite the thousands of taxis that roam its streets, not one of them is a New York style yellow. But that doesn’t stop us from playing a game of looking for brightly coloured cars- green is good, orange is OK too, and of course yellow is ‘Yay!!!’
We played the game last Wednesday, when I started writing this post. It was one of those rare days with no social arrangements and nothing particular to do except fulfill your breakfast prophecy:
Papa: What are your plans for the day?
Mama me: Nothing special…
You: We’re going to have a lovely day!
And we did. The morning was monochrome, threatening rain, but we braved the grey and headed to Urbanista for a second breakfast (orange juice and cheese croissant for you, and just only coffee for me, as you kept repeating).
While we waited for the waiter to find us upstairs we looked out of the wide windows down onto Bliss Street and watched the cars crawling past in black and white and shades of grey. Until suddenly, there was a flash of yellow, like the sun breaking through the clouds.
There’s a yellow car! I say almost leaping out of my leather armchair.
Mama’s very happy about that. You say, busy with your croissant and clearly not nearly as excited as I am.
Your ‘yellow fever’ must have been highly infectious, and I have well and truly caught it. Whereas it seems you are almost over it. Perhaps dark pink will be the new yellow.