The city of light. A city of romance. The city that people have raved over for centuries.
In the interest of full disclosure, I will admit that I did not absolutely adore Paris. It wasn’t all that bad, but we didn’t love it either. They had electricity, running water, and train stations. (I hear the doors of a thousand readers who want to continue to love their French-inspired decor closing their French doors.)
Let me say this first, Paris is not like what you see in the movies. In the movies, every American is welcomed and accepted. The actors skip around Paris have a grand ole time speaking English and finding Parisians who love them. This is simply not true. Perhaps a Parisian may like an American, but for the most part, you will not be treated well as an American tourist. Embrace that thought right now.
“I’ll just disguise it,” you say. Please try. But be warned, a Parisian can sniff out an American like bloodhounds do a deer. It might have something to do with your accent or your white tennis shoes or the bum bag hanging around your waist.
I do appreciate the French giving us French fries, French toast, French baguettes, the Statue of Liberty, and crème brûlée.
As a whole, my experience was that the Parisians’ behavior is not warm and inviting. I would love to be proved, otherwise. Even if you attempt to speak French with them, they feign ignorance of what you say. Restaurants close early in the evening, except maybe the really expensive ones where they serve octopus-spinach ravioli–a distasteful combination in my humble experience. Perhaps my ways need more refining. Our hotel had no air conditioning which made the nights hot and miserable even with the windows open.
In Paris they simply stared when I spoke to them in French; I never did succeed in making those idiots understand their own language. -Mark Twain
Quick personal experience story: We checked into our three-star lodging late one night and dropped into bed. The next morning, I rolled out of bed and looked back. Near where my shoulders had been were blood stains. I checked everywhere for signs I had been bleeding… alas– it was not my blood.
We did love our boat tour down the Seine River. The tour guide there spoke English and showed us lots of things, including the Speedo-clad men and topless women sunbathing on the side of the river. Wasn’t that just bonny? But to block out those images, we watched the light show on the Eiffel Tower which was very pretty.
The architecture was beautiful, Notre Dame is not excluded from that as you’ll find out when you stare at the tower waiting for a hunchback to swing out. And, of course, the Louvre had it’s own mystery to it. Cue: Ark of the Covenant conspiracies. We left having enjoyed the sights but completely frustrated by the lack of hospitality we received. Our attitude is very much “been there, done that, not going back.”
But wait… can I just mention the time I ran through Charles de Gaulle Airport to catch my connecting flight? That was the first all-terrain marathon I’d ever run with a full backpack on my back. Up the one flight of stairs, down two flights of stairs, jumping over children, through dark hallways, onto a bus, onto another bus, across the tarmac to board my plane because the airport was so full they couldn’t give my plane a gate. I can only imagine that’s how their military trains for combat. Thank you, Paris for providing me the opportunity to dash at a full sprint to get to a plane that refused to wait for me. Merci beacoup! (bows)
Travelers tip #1: Eat dinner early
Travelers tip #2: Always check your bed (not just in Paris, but everywhere.)
Travelers tip #3: Take a French dictionary with you for key words and practice the pronunciation.
Enjoy your stay. And if you ask the British, the Channel Tunnel is the best thing about France since it’s the fastest way out.
