Lessons on Parisian Streets


I learned a lot along this trip, about myself, Parisians, France in general. Here’s a list off the top of my head which I’ll update as I think of more (I’m sleepy):


– traveling alone is awesome because no one complains about their feet hurting (my feet didn’t hurt even once)

– traveling alone is awesome because in a matter of an hour I can run/metro between, like, three to five places that I’ve been to already and just want to see again briefly – I choose where, I choose when, I choose how long

– traveling alone is awesome because I can eat when I’m hungry and stop wherever I want

– traveling alone is awesome because I’m forced to learn how to use GPS properly and I’ve mastered the metro system

– traveling alone is not so awesome when you want to shout out how wowed you are about something and you’re forced to type it out to someone where there it’s five in the morning and they don’t give a damn, or you talk outloud to yourself accidentally and seem insane

– traveling alone is not so awesome when your evenings are cut short because you don’t want to walk home alone after dark

– traveling alone is not so awesome when you see couples holding hands and smiling lovingly at one another in the city of love and you go and reach, but nothing is there

– I am really good at keeping calm when I’m on my own (mostly because I’m afraid of people seeing panic on my face)

– I know this city pretty damn well (and when I don’t, I can fake it pretty well)



I have mastered their look: act completely disgusted with your beautiful city, don’t look the least bit interested, pretend like you’re eternally smelling a stinky fart, and the scammers and thieves won’t even say “boo” to you

– I have mastered their demeanor: always find something to complain about, kiss your teeth when you witness lame, American tourists, say “merde” under your breath all the time

– if you’re going to be terrible at speaking French, find a way to slip into the conversation that you’re Canadian and not American and you’ll see all their muscles relax and a smile come over their face

– Parisians hate Asian tourists, and they make it terribly obvious to them (and it makes me very uncomfortable to witness)

– every woman is thin and every thin woman glares at the tourists who may not be thin… And then when you reach the suburbs, the reverse is true

– simplicity, simplicity, simplicity… And a baguette in the Luxembourg gardens on your lunch break… NBD

– Parisian kids are always on their own, no matter the age or time of day, running around with friends or riding scooters down alleyways, with parents no where to be found (wish it could be safe enough for kids in the Western world to do this)

– glare at people who start conversations in English and glare at people who try and speak their poor French to your magnifique French ears (but only if they haven’t mentioned they’re Canadian)

– books are valued, books are respected, as such book stores are an important part of Parisian culture and the written word is how most intake their information

– do not look at anyone on the metro, ever – look at feet or read a paper/book… The crazies will take it as an invitation, the others will think you’re being rude

– Parisians LOVE their Nikes! A few hipsters had those Vans shoes everyone here has, but majority were walking some fresh, fresh Swoosh kicks. At three times the price of shoes here, you’ve got to marvel at their brand loyalty. I’m glad I brought my blush kicks with me because they got so many looks on the metro. 😎


That’s all for now! As I think of more, I’ll add more and mention it in some form of social media.

What do you think of my list?






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