7 Things I Didn’t Anticipate About Paris

Paris has plenty of surprises to offer her visitors. Here are a few she provided when we recently passed through.

1) That so many places would be closed for the month of August. My former partner Melissa and I had both done a fair bit if research before getting to Paris, making sure we had some vegan restaurants lined up so she would have the food she needed. Hard to enjoy the beauty and bustle of the City of Lights if you haven’t got food in your belly. Maslow’s hierarchy of needs and all. Well, on that count, we got foiled again and again. Apparently, a good portion of the city simply vacates during the month of August. The combination of summer heat, school vacation, and swarms of tourists all make a perfect storm for getting out of Dodge. And the bio-friendly restaurateurs join the caravan.1

2) That city bicycles would make Le Metro largely unnecessary. I had thought we would use Paris’ famed Metro transit system to get around the city. With day-long passes running around $10 or so, I picked up a few when I arrived at Gare du Nord train station. When we got to our friend Simone’s place, however, he introduced us to Velib and made that purchase instantly obsolete. Velib, a combination of “velo” (French for ‘bicycle’) and “libre” (free), maintains hundreds of bicycles scattered in pods all across the city. For a mere 1,7 € a day, around $2, you can take a bike when you need and return it when you’re done. The system’s designed for short trips: you get the first half hour of use with no added charge and it only costs extra if you keep the bike longer than that. But, if you really need one for longer, you can return it and take it back out after a two-minute reset.

Crossing the city by bike allowed us to hear, see, and smell the full range of the city’s senses, and to do so under our own power. The 2-wheelers also get permission to go where cars and trains can’t: on sidewalks, the wrong way down one-way streets, and so on. Occasionally, it proved a hassle to get bikes back in time or to find ones when we wanted them, but in, general, they got us where we needed to go plenty fast and with plenty of fun.

3) That we would be able to get by with so little French. I had heard from several sources that the French often bristled at helping those out who couldn’t speak the language, holding firmly to the value of their cultural heritage and resisting intruders, especially English speakers. As it turned out, a minimum review–enough to remember how to say “It’s difficult to speak in French; do you speak English?”–served plenty well to disarm any resistance. In fact, folks seemed quite happy to help as they could. and if they didn’t speak English, they were plenty good-humored about putting up with my disastre of Francais. We still had to struggle sometimes and we flubbed a few requests, I’m confident. But it worked fine.2

4) That the streets would be so chaotic. Having just come from the UK, I was well-versed in tricky street works. Thin passageways, intermittent bus lanes, and different (not wrong) directions all made for some challenging driving. I’m not sure I’d want to take Paris on, though. First off, they seem to have little order or predictability to street direction or layout. Many intersections have five or more streets entering and the meeting point often looks like one huge, paved, free-for-all.

You can find street names on the sides of buildings OK, but darned tootin’ if you’re going to be able to read them. Fonts have faded and, of course, the words are all in French.3 Many streets only head one way and I could see no clear markers to indicate that when coming up to a side street. All that and you’ve got crazy tourist bicyclists like us coming every which way and that. I don’t envy les residents or les taxis.

5) How little I felt drawn to tourist spots. Partly this was my introversion voicing its preference again. I prefer quiet, rereflects spaces to ones with gathered throngs. Daytime along the Seine throbbed with excess. Late night quieted to a more peaceful pulse. We went to the cathedral of Notre Dame but converted a quick in-and-out for all the crowds.

Heading into the Louvre or Musee d’Orsay would have meant doing so with lines of others. Mostly, I just wanted to wander, enjoying the old-city architecture and unpredictable streets. The out-of-the-way routes offered pucturesque nooks and crannies around almkst every corner. In retrospect, we realized that some of the museums actually might have provided pleasant havens from the chaos. At the time, they seemed part of the maelstrom.

6) That so few people would be overweight. I know that we in the US have a reputation for our corpulent citizenry. We Super Size our meals and TVs. It’s no wonder we also super size our bodies. Still, that point doesn’t hit home the same way without a contrast. Tres bien, mon ami, Paris says. Ici c’est le contraste. Men, women, children, elderly–it seemed like everyone tipped the light side of the scales there. Occasionally we would see someone extra heavy and say, “Ah, at least some are overweight.” And then we would realize they were a tourist from the States, lugging their rolling suitcase behind. I figure it’s the combination of smaller portions and more walking. I’ve lost several pounds since I’ve been over here myself.

7) How powerful a spell the Eiffel Tower would cast in person. I have always known how iconic the Tower is for the French psyche, or at least for French tourism. But it’s iconic for a reason: it’s both stunning and undeniably unique. Especially when you’re up close, its size simply dominates the landscape.

The construction appears basic–a four-corners cross-hatch latticework of steel rising up to a single spire–yet also remains beautiful. As we watched the sunlight fade during our second evening there, the tower lit up in an impressive display that both complemented and amplified the natural sunset going down. Melissa and I both agreed that if we ever go back to Paris, we will spend more time in the Tower’s shadows.

1 Rest assured, Melissa did eventually find some decent food. We got one fantastic super-vegan-friendly night of dinner. Indian and Middle Eastern usually have some decent options and an iced soy latte from Starbucks can smooth out a number of ruffled feathers.
2 It was funny–the one late night we found a waiter who spoke Spanish, we both felt a tangible sense of relief. Ahhhh. This we know how to do.
3 Back in his brilliant stand-up comedy days, Steve Martin used to quip “Those French people have a different word for everything.”