Paris Day one - First Impressions

July 7th 2010

Paris can be a scary place for visitors. For those who (like me) have a

romanticized, idealistic idea of the city you will emerge into from the

underground train system, arriving in the city by train can be a rude shock.

Rather than grand palatial Haussmann style buildings, glimpses of La Tour Eiffel

and slim well dressed 40 something's trotting about in high heels and stripes, the

Paris that greets the weary traveler is less than inviting.

Emerging into Gare du Nord, the busiest train station in Europe, is quite a

daunting experience. The station and the area surrounding it are notorious for

petty crime, pick pockets and beggars. Couple that with heavy jet lag, all of the

wonderful personal hygiene requirements that come with 24 hours of travel, 2

large backpacks and 2 even larger suitcases, Paris did not seem to be all it was

cracked up to be. If it wasn't for a friendly Parisian who spotted me straddling my

suitcase trying to force it through the automatic gates that had closed far too

early, I would probably still be there guarding all of my worldy possession against

the swarms of people making their way though the center of Paris.

My memory of the city from a brief school trip in 2004 was suddenly brought
back to life, after spotting the "immigrant crime gangs" of well dressed African
males, who often position themselves around Gare du Nord and then
communicate by mobile phone in order to prey on unsuspecting tourists. Spotting
several of them in our path, and picturing my teachers repetitive warnings to "be
alert! be aware of pickpockets!! strap your money belts on tight!!" was just about
enough for me to turn around and go home.

The metro at peak hour, with baggage was, in short, an experience from hell. I
have never been THAT close to THAT many strangers all at once.

I had numerous Parisians trying to sit on my suitcase, breathing right into

my face, not to mention spooning me from behind to accommodate my

backpack, all in all being generally too affectionate for strangers. Paris is the city

of love though, right? If I wasn't claustrophobic before this experience, I am now.

I have vowed NEVER to attempt the metro at peak hour with anything more than

a small handbag. Please, for my own personal safety, hold me to this promise!

The discovery of the true, romantic, idealistic Paris like the one in my head would
have to wait until the jet leg wore off and a summer of travel came to a close.