Friday, 29 November 2013

Being Chatted Up


Now most of you will be massively surprised that I haven’t really been chatted up before coming to Paris, (detect some sarcasm?!). But it’s true! There is something that is quite different about French men to any other kind.

I’d say my experiences in this area first started in Cannes (not Paris I know but trust me it’s a funny story). Amelia and I had been sitting along La Croisette when these two guys came over and started chatting to us. They were tiny! Well smaller than both of us but turned out they were from Paris (see Parisian link!) and were actually really nice! Well a lot nicer than they guy who accused me of being a racist the other day because I didn’t want to tell him my first name. He wouldn’t leave me alone for a good 5 minutes. It wasn’t the best experience of my life, I wasn’t massively scared but I was very relieved when he finally decided to leave me alone! This was after another guy had come up to me, mumbled at me to which I replied “Quoi?” and then said I was pretty. I subsequently told him to go away.

I did go on a date with a French guy the other day. That was pretty sweet and made me feel like I was going a little “more native than the natives” in the style of Sally Jay Gorce. We went to a typically Parisian bar for a glass of wine and just had a chat which was cute. It was nice to meet someone new but he wasn’t the most interesting person in the world. Something to tick off the bucket list though!

All of this is still better than the street cleaner who growled at me in my leopard print mac. Nothing can beat that for weird.

Wednesday, 13 November 2013

Not Missing Home


I’m just going to put a disclaimer out there first. I do miss my family! Well most of you….. but there are some things I prefer about Paris and after going home during Reading Week I realised how used to Paris I had got!

First of all there’s so much more to do! Going to the theatre with James and Cobain last week was lovely but there is something quite nice about an impromptu trip to an art gallery or popping to the cinema to see a French film. I think it’s easier to get away with doing the touristy things as a Brit in Paris, doing all the sightseeing in London just doesn’t feel the same somehow. I still get a really lovely feeling every time I walk past the dome of Invalides glistening in the sun as I walk to uni (sun being something completely foreign to the UK).

The public transport is so much faster. Now Merseyrail and I don’t get on at the best of times, especially the drunks trying to ask your sister about her hat on the way back from the beach. It isn’t often you hear the phrase “It’s a lovely hat, wouldn’t wear it meself like” on the metro. I found myself getting really impatient at 10 minute waits for trains which probably seems really bad but when 4 minutes is a long time to wait for the metro 10 seems like eons.

Now I have a steady supply of rice pudding and bacon from the M&S which has opened up three stops away from me there really is no need for me to venture back to the UK. This also handily gets me out of having to share the plane back to Liverpool with the Disneyland crowd who make me want to tear my hair out. There should be a law against over-tired toddlers on flights after 7pm.

All I need to do now is to get the dog over here so we can go and sit in caf├ęs, her looking cute and me drinking espresso looking chic.