Chunneling my way to Paris
I have been travelling again. See if you can guess to where this time.
Yep, I spent Australia Day in Paris. First I must say I can’t remember the last time I went to a country where my home country currency was stronger than the country I was visiting. As an Australia you’re pretty much used to the fact that your currency is globally like monopoly money. It’s occasionally stronger than the New Zealand dollar and I think it may have been in Fiji; it’s stronger than most south east asian currencies, but as they mostly trade in US dollars not local currency the moment of economic superiority doesn’t last long.
So, travelling to Paris with sterling in my pocket gave me a first hand experience of English superiority, albeit it briefly.
I caught the Eurostar over to Paris, mostly because I’m working with a fantastic woman who has given me grief about my carbon footprint from taking so many short haul flights. And if you book two months in advance, the tickets are cheaper than flights. Getting to Waterloo and arriving in Gare du Nord also takes probably 2.5 hours off the travel time to actually get into Paris, so I thoroughly recommend it. Comfy seats, leg room… all in all a lovely way to travel.
Everyone who has travelled through Europe will tell you that the pickpockets are rife in Rome and Paris. However, as I didn’t see any of it when I was there 6 months ago I had kind of forgotten the basics – separate out your cards/money/ID into various compartments in your bag/person so that even if your wallet is taken you’re not stuffed.
So, when I transferred from the posh eurostar station at Gare du Nord to the slightly less posh and fairly rank metro station to get to my hostel and a guy came up and stood pressed up against me on the escalator I wasn’t immediately suspicious. I’d been up since 4am and had only had train coffee, so wasn’t operating in top gear. That he was frotting against me and moving his arm very quickly did not immediately make me think he was trying to rob me, indeed I initially thought he was… trying to relieve some tension and more out of concern for what I would see I tried my best to avoid looking at him. After about 30 seconds that little voice that invariably screams “retreat, retreat” kicked in and I turned to look at him to discover his hand in my handbag and indeed probably half a second away from removing my wallet, complete with ID all money, all cards and details of my return journey, which he had worked from the bottom of my bag to the top. I was so stunned that he was robbing me and not having some personal time that all I could think to say was “fark off mate” which is evidence of how rubbish I am at confrontation. Only I could manage to call someone trying to rob me “mate.”
He apologised (clearly he also had no idea how his hand ended up in my handbag) and then scarpered. However, he didn’t get anything and so then I became very angry not at the violation but at my woeful attempt of abuse. I am still not completely over it”!
It’s also kind of ruined Paris for me, as I found myself a little bit freaked out when people brushed up against me and stood in my personal space for the rest of the 4 days. However, as the last time I lost my camera and glasses (through drunken misadventure, not theft) that I managed to rescue my entire life and livelihood seconds before it vanished has given me a fairly cheap travel lesson I guess!
Paris is an amazing city, not only because it’s so easy to get to from London, but because it’s one of the few places I’ve been to where you can spend hours wandering around looking at architecture and people and not feel like you’ve wasted time.
I spent an entire morning walking up one side of the Seine for a few miles, and then down the other. It’s also one of the few cities (other than Rome) where to not check out women is an insult, so it’s a nice ego boost to go to a city where guys are openly appreciative. Indeed one guy walked into a pole in the metro when he turned around to continue his blatant staring at me.
I also saw the gendarmes arrest a few guys just near the tower. They were selling those horrid trinkets that are invariably associated with any major tourist destination and about 3 minutes after I walked past them the two of them pushed past me, flogging it for all their worth away from the tower to a park. Shortly after them followed four police. I, at first, assumed they were illegal immigrants, as surely selling tourist stuff isn’t illegal, unless they were the taste police which in Paris seems reasonable.
After about a 5 minute chase they were caught, handcuffed and dragged away. (I also saw this in Lisbon however will continue to maintain it is a coincidence, just as the number of natural disasters than have hit countries/cities after I have visited them is.) As a tip to future Parisian tourist trinket sellers, if you are being chased by gendarmes split up. That they were caught was not due to their fitness levels, but more their lack of planning. They should have had an escape route and plan well sorted prior to that day and I have no doubt that as they sat handcuffed in their cells later that night that they would have both gone “you know what we should do next time?”
Paris, 26 January 2007
Yep, I spent Australia Day in Paris. First I must say I can’t remember the last time I went to a country where my home country currency was stronger than the country I was visiting. As an Australia you’re pretty much used to the fact that your currency is globally like monopoly money. It’s occasionally stronger than the New Zealand dollar and I think it may have been in Fiji; it’s stronger than most south east asian currencies, but as they mostly trade in US dollars not local currency the moment of economic superiority doesn’t last long.
So, travelling to Paris with sterling in my pocket gave me a first hand experience of English superiority, albeit it briefly.
I caught the Eurostar over to Paris, mostly because I’m working with a fantastic woman who has given me grief about my carbon footprint from taking so many short haul flights. And if you book two months in advance, the tickets are cheaper than flights. Getting to Waterloo and arriving in Gare du Nord also takes probably 2.5 hours off the travel time to actually get into Paris, so I thoroughly recommend it. Comfy seats, leg room… all in all a lovely way to travel.
Everyone who has travelled through Europe will tell you that the pickpockets are rife in Rome and Paris. However, as I didn’t see any of it when I was there 6 months ago I had kind of forgotten the basics – separate out your cards/money/ID into various compartments in your bag/person so that even if your wallet is taken you’re not stuffed.
So, when I transferred from the posh eurostar station at Gare du Nord to the slightly less posh and fairly rank metro station to get to my hostel and a guy came up and stood pressed up against me on the escalator I wasn’t immediately suspicious. I’d been up since 4am and had only had train coffee, so wasn’t operating in top gear. That he was frotting against me and moving his arm very quickly did not immediately make me think he was trying to rob me, indeed I initially thought he was… trying to relieve some tension and more out of concern for what I would see I tried my best to avoid looking at him. After about 30 seconds that little voice that invariably screams “retreat, retreat” kicked in and I turned to look at him to discover his hand in my handbag and indeed probably half a second away from removing my wallet, complete with ID all money, all cards and details of my return journey, which he had worked from the bottom of my bag to the top. I was so stunned that he was robbing me and not having some personal time that all I could think to say was “fark off mate” which is evidence of how rubbish I am at confrontation. Only I could manage to call someone trying to rob me “mate.”
He apologised (clearly he also had no idea how his hand ended up in my handbag) and then scarpered. However, he didn’t get anything and so then I became very angry not at the violation but at my woeful attempt of abuse. I am still not completely over it”!
It’s also kind of ruined Paris for me, as I found myself a little bit freaked out when people brushed up against me and stood in my personal space for the rest of the 4 days. However, as the last time I lost my camera and glasses (through drunken misadventure, not theft) that I managed to rescue my entire life and livelihood seconds before it vanished has given me a fairly cheap travel lesson I guess!
Paris is an amazing city, not only because it’s so easy to get to from London, but because it’s one of the few places I’ve been to where you can spend hours wandering around looking at architecture and people and not feel like you’ve wasted time.
Arc de Triomphe, on Champs Elysses
I spent an entire morning walking up one side of the Seine for a few miles, and then down the other. It’s also one of the few cities (other than Rome) where to not check out women is an insult, so it’s a nice ego boost to go to a city where guys are openly appreciative. Indeed one guy walked into a pole in the metro when he turned around to continue his blatant staring at me.
I also saw the gendarmes arrest a few guys just near the tower. They were selling those horrid trinkets that are invariably associated with any major tourist destination and about 3 minutes after I walked past them the two of them pushed past me, flogging it for all their worth away from the tower to a park. Shortly after them followed four police. I, at first, assumed they were illegal immigrants, as surely selling tourist stuff isn’t illegal, unless they were the taste police which in Paris seems reasonable.
After about a 5 minute chase they were caught, handcuffed and dragged away. (I also saw this in Lisbon however will continue to maintain it is a coincidence, just as the number of natural disasters than have hit countries/cities after I have visited them is.) As a tip to future Parisian tourist trinket sellers, if you are being chased by gendarmes split up. That they were caught was not due to their fitness levels, but more their lack of planning. They should have had an escape route and plan well sorted prior to that day and I have no doubt that as they sat handcuffed in their cells later that night that they would have both gone “you know what we should do next time?”
