Parisian life. We’ve been in Paris for nine days now. I think we’re finally getting the lay of the land and figuring out how best to fit in.  Yesterday, we took our first day trip out of the city and managed to get on the right train without getting lost.  We only had to ask for help twice.  I would like to “lift the lid” off of the city and see the whole underground world known as the metro/RER system.

The Parisian Apartment

Believe it not, we actually had to move apartments again.  We are in the same building but we are on the ground floor. We are happily settled after two moves.  Apartment #2, which was on the 3rd floor of this building, was a nice little apartment. Unfortunately, the residents of the apartment on the 2nd floor were walking chimneys. Their never ending cigarette smoke rafted up into our 3rd floor apartment to the point where we were driven out.  But, here we are on the ground floor and while still small, very comfortable and guess what?  Our bedroom is in the basement so it’s a bit like sleeping in a cave.  Well, actually it is a cave but a nice cave.  Oh, and floor counting in Paris, is:  ground, 1, 2, 3, versus U.S. where the ground floor is the 1st floor.

Creature Comforts

If you live in the heart of Paris, kitchens are ridiculously small and the bathrooms, well. Look at it this way; when all of these historic buildings were built there was no such thing as indoor plumbing.  Once it became popular, it was all about building a bathroom in any tiny crevice of space one could find.  We are fortunate, we actually have an updated albeit tiny bathroom. The other two apartments’ bathrooms were not so great.  As Americans, we are very spoiled in our creature comforts.  I’m sure there are larger apartments (with large price tags) but I think the average living space is so small.  Our 1-bedroom apartment is only 400 sq. ft.  It explains why everyone is sitting at an outside cafe drinking coffee and smoking even though it is only 30 degrees.  Have I mentioned the French love their cigarettes?

In the Neighborhood

In our neighborhood, we have the butcher, the baker, and the fish monger.  There is the wine cellar, the cheese man, the veggies & fruit stand, as well as a cafe in every nook and cranny.   Our favorite boulangier for morning croissants and Abi’s “cafe” is about 4 blocks from the apartment.  It’s well-worth the extra steps.  In the evening our favorite boulangier for baguettes, is just a couple of blocks from the apartment.

Alive with Movement

The city of Paris has a population of 2.2 million people and the city is alive with movement!  When you want to “stroll” along the sidewalk, you better stay to one side or you will get run over as everyone moves quickly.  If you have a green light to cross the street, don’t assume the traffic will stop. If you’re in the crosswalk, it is legal for a car to miss you by only three feet.  There are a lot of cars.  In the U.S. I have to admit I always laugh at the driver who can’t parallel park to save their life. The French driver can squeeze a car into a space you’d never think possible.  It’s easy, just bump the car in front of you and then back bump the car behind you.  The same thing can be said for finding space for housing.  Take a look at this photo.

If this is “low” season for tourism, I would not want to be here in high season, or even in-between.  It is busy everywhere.  Yesterday, we went to the Palace of Versailles.  While we did not have to wait in line to enter, and you have the freedom to move through at your own pace, we could not imagine the volume of people who visit during high season. We were moving through cattle style. We were still able to see everything we wanted to see.  At times we just held back until there was a lull in the crowd.

Parisian Women

Parisian women do not wear tennis shoes.  I read it somewhere before we left home. I’ve been checking and it’s true.  We purposely did not bring tennis shoes because we were told the scammers look at your shoes.  If I see a girl/woman wearing tennis shoes I listen for the language and sure enough it is not French.  French women wear a lot of black. The very stylish women wear fur, not politically correct on their part. I kind of think they really don’t care.  They are all about the fashion.

The Stereotype

For the most part, we have found everyone to be quite pleasant. If you make even the worst attempt at speaking a word or two of French, they will respond and help.  Of course like anywhere, there are those who could care less if you need help. But hey, I find those every day in the U.S.  I think the stereotype of the French being rude isn’t altogether accurate. They just have someplace to be and they don’t see the need to make eye contact with everyone they pass on the street.

We have been to Notre Dame, the crypt under Notre Dame, St. Chapelle, the Cluny and Rodin museums, Napoleon’s Tomb, the Eiffel Tower, and the river Seine.  We have toured the city by bus, and we’ve walked miles and miles through different neighborhoods. Yesterday we visited the Palace of Versailles. I still can’t believe what we saw there.  I have so many stories to tell you but Abi is waiting for me to go as we are on our way to the Louvre this morning.  Au Revoir.

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