Last Reflections of Paris

I'm already at the second city in Switzerland now, and I better write this down before I forget.

I had many preconceived ideas of France, French people and French food before I set foot there. But all those notions were wrong wrong and WRONG. Here are a few

You know how people hark on about how well the Parisiennes are dressed? I wasn't aware of this until I read about this in Mamamia and later French Essence. Then in London, Yang comments, "People dress so well over there. It's not possible to overdress." So I had a very set idea of what to expect when it comes to dressing before I arrived in Paris: literally every woman will be impecably dressed and I can spend a day at a cafe just watching people walk by in my very own personal fashion show. I'm not exaggerating!

Then I got to Paris, and what a let down!! People dress just like you and I. Granted, the average French passer-by dresses ever so slightly better than the average Sydney-sider. And also granted, I did see some very well dressed women, but they were mostly grandmas and it was on extremely rare occasions. But overall, the standard I expected, the standard where the fashion shines that so brightly it rivals the Eiffel Tour at night, was not met.

I met a really cute French man on the train to Switzerland and he asked me about my thoughts on this topic. He also believes Parisienne women dresses well: "That's only in Paris". But then he also qualifies the generalisation that it is not everyone!

Before I came, I heard from multiple reliable sources (and by reliable I mean people who have been to France) about French bread! and how you can never eat bread like the ones in France. Pfft!! I had better bread in Switzerland! But this may be because I really believed in the talk abt baguettes, and hence I only had baguettes? But still, why do people go on about baguettes when they have the hardest shell? You need serated teeth to bite through it.

And overall, I thought Parisians were quiet nice. Not arrogant and resistant to speaking English (ironically, the only instance of rudeness and "speak Fwench" I encountered was at an info desk at Galleries Lafayette). But, as the cute French man on the train tells me, that is only in Paris, people really don't speak English outside Paris.

Oh also, DOG POO!! I thought they were going to be all over the place, and I'll literally have to dance around the path to avoid stepping into a pile, but I didn't see any! Maybe I stepped in them, or maybe as Yang tells it, "They're really small and hard to see, because all their dogs are small"