I know, I know, you might read this title and think, “HERESY!”
But let me explain which name I’m referring to.
Paris certainly lived up to being the City of Light. Especially when I found myself on that bridge in Midnight in Paris with a sparkly Eiffel Tower in the background and I almost died of ‘appiness.
Paris did not, however, live up to its name of being one of the rudest cities in the world.
The only Parisian scoff I received in my five days there came from a server at a little bistro around midnight where I got a baguette sandwich and a coffee. But even then it was such a quintessential moment that his stereotypical disgust at us made me really happy. Other than that, there were friendly people everywhere.
The people selling me too many Nutella crepes. The old couple who owned a corner store and smiled at my weak French as I thanked them and told them to have a “bon soir” after getting a bottle of wine. The friendly couple who helped me and my friend out of the gate to the apartment complex we were staying in because we didn’t know how to unlock it. Even the man who was amused by us at a restaurant in the Louvre where we fumbled through ordering two croque monsieurs.
Though not the friendliest city I’ve been to (Dublin wins that by a long shot), Paris was perfectly amiable and I wasn’t sure what other tourists were doing to receive such terrible service.