a scarf is required

The Eurostar train ride to Paris was Not Fun. I was squashed in with a family of four. The father spoke English mainly. His significant other spoke French mainly. Their children spoke a sort of Frenglish, when they weren’t screaming, crying, fidgeting, or otherwise irritating the entire train car of passengers. Seats were assigned, so I couldn't sit anywhere else.

I kept my eyes shut and tried to sleep for most of the train ride. Going through the various tunnels kept changing the air pressure, so it constantly felt like someone was pressing on my ears.

I didn’t mind missing the scenery. I’ll see it on the way back.

Two-and-a-half hours later, around noon, I was at Gare du Nord in Paris and about to experience the Parisian metro system. Other than being shabby, graffitied, and dirty and smelly in some places, it’s quite a good system and easy to use. The key is to know the end stop of the line you need to be on for your destination, depending on which direction you’re going in. Then you just follow the signs for that end stop to get to the right platform.

I emerged from the metro at Ecole Militaire, and after a couple of slight wrong turns, ended up on Rue Augereau. My hotel was at the end of the street. At first glance, you wouldn’t even know there was a hotel on this street since it’s surrounded by shops, cafes, restaurants, apartments, and even a laundromat.

I’m staying at the Hotel Londres Eiffel, which is recommended in the Rick Steves Paris Guidebook. (Incidentally, I discovered that his Paris guidebook is the bestselling English-language guidebook on the city. Good on him.)

This hotel has the tiniest elevator I’ve ever seen. Supposedly, it can hold a maximum of four people. Really, I think only three can fit in it comfortably, and if you have a suitcase, I’d only recommend two.

Once again, I’m in a small room:


...with the strangest-looking hair dryer I've ever seen:


I’ve quickly discovered that space is at a premium here. The streets are narrow, and the sidewalks are even narrower.

There are more cars and motorcycles than there are available parking spaces in this city. Many people have opted for SMART cars, since they’re compact enough to park perpendicularly to the sidewalk, which means they can fit into any smaller space that might be available. And when I say “any space,” I mean Any. Space. Parisians get creative with what they consider suitable parking spaces. Nothing but some sort of physical barrier will keep them from parking somewhere. It’s typical to see motorcycles and scooters and whatnot parked on sidewalks, and even being ridden on sidewalks.

Living space is also abominably small. Cedric, one of the front desk people at the hotel, told me that a 400 to 500 square foot apartment can easily run into the hundreds of thousands of euros. It’s not just a cultural thing that Parisians food shop in the outdoor markets on a near-daily basis, it’s a practical thing. They don’t have the room for huge refrigerators and lots of cupboards. Kitchen space is often the size of an office desk. You only keep it stocked with what you need in the immediate future.

My hotel is about 10 minutes’ walk from Rue Cler, a well-known place for shopping and eating, and about five minutes further on is the Eiffel Tower:


Now, forget the black and white striped shirts and the berets. What the Parisians really wear is scarves. Both men and women wear them, and lots of shops here sell them. They are also practical because the spring mornings here are chilly. So that was my first purchase in Paris.

Thus properly attired, I went wandering around looking for a place to have dinner. Most of the shops close just as the restaurants are opening. I ended up at Le Petite Nicoise, which translates, more or less, to the Little Man from Nice. The waitstaff were gracious, and I didn’t mangle my spoken French too badly. I had a three-course meal of salad, fish and grilled vegetables, and sorbet.

You don’t have to tip as much here as you do in the states. Waitstaff make at least a living wage, so they don’t have to rely as much on tips. A five to ten percent tip is considered generous, so basically you just round up to the nearest euro or two. Also, because the waitstaff aren’t angling as much for tips as they would in the states, they don’t fawn all over you. In fact, they leave you alone quite a bit and prefer that you not rush through your meal. A nice, laid back attitude, I think.

After dinner, I found one of the “tour the city” buses and got a lay of the land, so I’d know what things were near what other things and how far away they all were from my hotel. I’ll be using the metro and the buses a lot this week, I can tell.

Art Nouveau Metro stop:

Obelisk of Luxor in the Place de La Concorde:

Changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier under the Arc de Triomphe: