From students who obsess over Derrida’s Of Grammatology to tourists who wonder why the French don’t pronounce half the consonants in each word, everyone enjoys the city where, by decree of law, buildings don’t exceed six stories, pour que tout le monde ait du soleil (so that all have sunshine). Though Parisians may English you (speak in English when you speak in French), and your feet may feel like numb petrified stubs de bois by the end of each day, this city pulls through for those who let themselves indulge in the sensory snapshots around every corner—the aroma of a boulangerie, the gleam of bronze balconies, the buzz of a good €2 bottle of red, the jolt of the new fave metro line 14. For all its hyped-up snobbery (and yes, the waiters are judging you), Paris is open to those willing to wander. The truth is, this city will charm and bitchslap you with equal gusto, but don’t get too le tired—by your third or fourth sincere attempt at s’il vous plaît, even the waiters soften up. Stick around long enough, and you’ll be able to tell the foux from the foux de fa fa, the Lavazza from the Illy, and the meta hipster bars from the wanna-be meta hipster bars. Et puis, we’ll see who’s judging whom.
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