PARIS Part 2: An introduction to Gypsies.

Let's say you've been to Paris. I find that a lot of people have been several times. Then you're familiar with the following:

- North Africans and their complete inability to assimilate peacefully
- Gypsies and their dazzling impromptu communication and diversion skills
- People who seemingly change direction on the sidewalk to come right at you
- Tourists and the fact that, at some point, they're just going to stop walking in front of you, forcing you to ditch left or right.

If you're an American who has not been abroad, you may think we're the only country experiencing racial tensions. As if the rest of the world points fingers at us and says, "look at those yahoos." Completely false. It's everywhere. North French hate Southern French, vice versa. Certain neighborhoods can't even get along. On a grander scale, throw a couple million immigrants and refugees in the mix and watch the sparks fly.

The French are NOT big fans of North Africans as a general statement, you have your exceptions. Algerians in particular are singled out as not-so-great in Paris. Then you have the Roma or Romani, the Gypsies. They're everywhere in Paris, some sprawled out on the ground in prayer position, holding a cup for your change. Some selling this and that, some outright asking for change, switching languages to whatever it is you speak, and being very aggressive about it, they don't just wander off when you say 'no' - they'll stare you down with a bizarre, ancient grin and tip their head to say 'c'mon, I know you've got money.' You literally have to do everything short of yelling "F-CK OFF!" in their faces.

This is especially prevalent near the Eiffel Tower. The main reception area nearest the Eiffel is Calcutta, Marrakech and Disney World on Labor Day weekend combined. The Sub-Saharans are selling your miniature Eiffels, whistles, hats, sunglasses, whatever you don't need/want. Randomly, and across all of Europe, Indian dudes run the "Skip the Line" Tour game and the Gypsies approach you one after the other after the other after the other holding a plastic covered piece of paper saying God-knows-what, asking for money. I finally took a Sharpie out and write, "NON, Merci" on a small card and held it up to everyone.

To enjoy the Eiffel in all its glory, you can wait in line for six hours and ride up her, or climb the stairs to the Ministry of Defense and you're damn-near at eye level with the tip. Pretty excellent view of both the Tower and the expansive park to the south of her. The Arc to Eiffel to Louvre (in any order) is an excellent walk. You can really enjoy an entire day taking all this in, though you'll want two whole days just to tour the museum. I would, however, NOT recommend taking this walk on a Saturday in August. Not because it's hot but because that's when the entire world visits Paris.

Paris isn't cheap. Luckily you took that $175 flight, stayed at the worst hotel and ate the cheapest things you could find from corner stores. Now you're agile, sweaty and ready for action. Head on up to Blanche Metro stop and see the windmill thing and the cafe Amelie worked in. Buy some fruit from Moroccan dudes who are going to charge you by the kg and you can't convert in your head so you probably just paid $3.50 for a peach. Enjoy six bottles of water because you're dying.

Walking from the Louvre to the Metro one afternoon, I passed a gym. Out back were two instructors, t-shirts with the gym logo, VERY fit people - standing behind the gym smoking. That told me everything I needed to know about Paris and I fell in love a little bit. Then, of course, a group of tourists spread all the way across the sidewalk suddenly stopped for no reason and the moment was lost.

Enjoy Paris as it is, with people throwing lit cigarette butts on the ground at such an alarming rate, they have a league of dudes in green vests sweeping up butts all day. The ubiquitous scooters, soooo many scooters. The constant honking, the droves and droves and droves of tourists. Chinese are my favorite, they walk wherever they damn please and hock loogies and play chicken on the sidewalks. They're a blast.

Enjoy the sights, the sounds, the smells, the breads... the breads... where do they get this bread and why is it so much better than anyone else's? Enjoy their lived in Metro trains, complete with buskers and beggars, backpackers and locals. Enjoy the fact that, if you just sit there and think about it for a minute, you know what that sentence, street sign, menu item or person is saying. Okay, maybe not the person, if you're me, but luckily I memorize at least two apologetic sentences before I enter any country. "Please excuse my poor French language skills" or the like.

Just remember, when you get out of the tourist areas, the locals aren't going to put up with your Duolingo French, "She holds an apple" horseshit. (To be completely honest and fair, Parisians are awesome and warm people, just open with your best effort and they'll take care of you as best they can). And God help you if you don't like techno. You're going to hear some techno.

Things to remember for your next trip to Paris:
Money in zipped pockets, no purse or bag, the pickpockets in Paris are some of the most skilled in the world, you'll never see or feel it.
Two pair of already-broken-in walking shoes, the most comfortable you can find. Alternate days. No flip flops. It rains, they wash the streets, people throw water out and all of that mixes with bum urine. You want bum urine on your toes? I didn't think so.
Go to the Eiffel Tower at 8am on a Tuesday, not noon on a Saturday. (like I did)
You can get in and on top of the Arc de Triomphe (I never knew that).
If the restaurant has a giant menu out front with pictures on it, touting the fact it's available in 12 language, you probably don't want to eat there first.
Stop at the light, watch what the locals do, follow then across the street. Go when they go, unless they're doing some "I'm in a hurry" daredevil shit.
Find Les Bar de Fils a Maman, ask for Alex. Get one of his specialty drinks, then eat next door. Trust me.
You're going to see an inordinate amount of both Crocs and Jorts. Worn by locals. Very peculiar.
If you're not moving quickly, you're in the fucking way. (see Manhattan)
You'll run into two extremes at some point in your transportation - the unbathed or the over-Axed.
Want to have some fun? Get off at Chatelet (Metro stop), separate yourselves as a family, go down separate tunnels, and try to find one another again before you die of natural causes.




PARIS IN PHOTOS:


A view from the base of the steps to the Ministry of Defense 
(that's what I'm calling it) looking down toward an EXCELLENT 
place to get pick-pocketed. 



The French Ministry of Defense. I imagine 
that's where the white flag goes.



It's a hell of a lot bigger than I thought it'd be. The series of tunnels 
underneath it is mind-blowing. 



Food.




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