So, I’ve just been to Pah-wee and I had some FWAGWAAAAAAAAA. And I came back sounding a tad Fwench, teehee.
No, really, whoever comes back from a short stint abroad sounding like a completely pretentious jackass deserves a smack in the eye. Because that hurts.
Also, jokes aside (except for the smacking part, that one isn’t a joke), I did recently go to Paris – fortunately and unfortunately. I’ll get to that in a bit. The first thing you should know, if you haven’t been to Paris, is that you really should go. I understand that times are hard, and the MYR and EUR exchange rate would definitely make you cry blood but here’s where fortunate part for me came in – it was a work trip. Unfortunately, it was a work trip. Don’t get me wrong, it wasn’t that I don’t enjoy this kind of work. It just meant that schedules are tight, and unlike a proper holiday, you won’t get much of sightseeing in, unless those are included in the plans.
I’m certain that Paris is on the bucket list for 9/10 people on Earth. I know they call it the city of love, the city of lights, the most romantic city in the world (I beg to differ, somehow), but generally I think Paris is just pretty. I’ll also get to this in a bit … but before that, let me quickly go through what I had experienced during my 72-hour getaway to Paris.
1. The Parisian drivers are fucking crazy
I don’t know what it is – general impatience or they’ve got really massive balls – but it all started from when I got picked up at the airport. The driver was impatient, and braked only as his front was about to kiss another person’s back. All the time.
Like this. Except it wasn’t a wall.
And he was constantly sighing, and fidgeting. I thought, he really needed to get somewhere real quick. Or he needed to use the bathroom. Understandable. But it was somewhere near my hotel that two other people happened to be in a row over a parking lot. And boy, did t things get aggressive. One was smacking his bumper and boot, and the driver just nonchalantly backed his car into him, attempting to park. My driver joined in on the fun, too, and started yelling back.
Apart from that, he was quick to take to corners, cut lines and suddenly move directions without any form of French suaveness that they are normally linked to. It was just pure adrenaline riding in that car. Or so I thought. The next driver was similar. And the next, and the next. Was I the only one freaking out? No. My other Malaysian companions made a remark about how we are quite lucky to just deal with a middle finger or a ‘bapak kauuuuuu!’ when we encounter a problem at the road, and instead of moving forward aggressively and pissing hundreds of people off, we just choose to brave through the jam and grumble about it.
2. Everything is just so pretty
Remember I said something about Paris should just be known as Paris, The City Of Pretty? Because that’s really what it is. Pretty. I mean … even the alleys look pretty. I suppose they owe it to their well-preserved European architecture, with statues adorning every corner or so. You’ll discover something really gorgeous at every turn you make. The doors look picturesque. The pharmacies look like museums. The cafes look like the Sistine chapel … Here, let me show you:
Doors are so pretty here! There were just too many, but I didn’t want to weigh my company down by stopping at any given chance. Would love to have had an album solely dedicated to doors.
Le Train Bleu. An old train station converted into this ‘Sistine Chapel’-like cafe – or so my friend says. Absolutely beautiful.
Landmarks! Some are not landmarks by anyone’s standards, but they are to me. You get the usual Louvre, Notre Dame, Eiffel Tower and the rest, of course.
Bonus: a friend I made whilst walking through the park near the Louvre.
So did you see how pretty everything is? I still dream about the streets until today. Not joking.
3. 3 days was simply not enough
I get it, you must be wondering – how can you write the obvious? Well, my friend, because I can. I can say with total conviction that despite the evidence that three days isn’t anywhere near enough to fully explore a city (well, except Sandakan, where I’m from. That you can really see in less than a day, or an hour tops), especially Paris.
I’ve been told that I should have extended. I should have, but then I’d be out on the streets because #broke. And plus, Paris isn’t something that you should experience alone. You can, but #pickpockets. Ah, perhaps that’s one thing I should have added … people everywhere, as soon as they found out that I was going to Paris, advised me about pickpockets. It’s crazy.
Anyway, all I’m saying is, if you have the chance to go to Paris, take a week at least. You’re going to have a tough time dealing with the jet lag, so give yourself a chance to recuperate and adjust before you get down to exploring.
There’s something specifically catered to everyone out there, be it art aficionados, caffeine addicts, shopaholics, beauty lovers (they sell Caudalie, Melvita and all that in PHARMACIES!), sightseers … I can go on and on, but those are the glimpses I got to take during my short meet-and-greet with the city. Hopefully I can get to take more, see more and indulge more, but let’s see! Fingers crossed.
Until then, au revoir! You’re free to smack me in the eye.
Do you travel often? Do you think you can relate to the 4 Malaysian “Sins” We’re Guilty Of When We’re Abroad?
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