Friday, September 15, 2006

Paris

Paris is still Paris, but not the same anymore.

I went to Paris from my Fontainebleau residence last weekend. I took the train early in the afternoon on Saturday (around 6PM), and after 45 minutes of commute time in the Parisian suburb, I arrived in Gare de Lyon. Few subway station later and some accordéon in the tube, I reach Bastille at 7.30PM just on time to start the bar crawl with some friends. The night was long and full of talk and alcohol, the way I liked them. The next morning we all went to Paris Bercy to hang around on the newly renovated 12th area in Paris.

The best thing that I notice in Paris was probably the smell. Paris smells the same, even 10 years later. I like it the way it is. This is a strange mix of humidity, human smell and train oil that give a particular odour of metro Parisien. I felt at home when my nose was full of Parisian sh*t. I liked it very much.

Then, over my short subway transit, I was pushed, yelled at and more importantly stairred at. I did the same thing evaluating my next opponent for the last seat fight and try to see where would be my best spot in that case.
Few tips that I collected over my period in the big P. city.
Don't fight against an old lady; she will give you the guilty look.
Don't fight against a young lady; she will give you a kick in the knees.
Don't fight against an old man; he will give you the vindictive speech.
Don't fight against a young man; he will give you bad experience for sure.



What you have to found is a poor tourist with a lot of suitcases. You have a big advantage not only in terms of time, while he or she carry his or her stuff, you will be able to install your blanket and start sleeping. But as well in terms of language. If she or he starts arguing that it was her or his place, why not answering back in rude and really fassssssssst French. You will win at each time.

Anyway, this is the same old thing, where you run in the subway and you don't even know why. You have the sad and bad look with no smile and you wonder why people have the same. You complain all the time just by the fact you have to in order to relate to people.

BUT this place is amazing!
Each corner is a picture to do,
Each person has a long story to tell,
Each stone has a glory to make.

I love Paris for what she is, and indulge her for what people make her to become.