My (Sweet & Sour) Paris Experience — Part 1
“No wonder..” I mumbled when I saw the Eiffel Tower for the first time.
I came to Paris carpooling with strangers. That was my first time using a popular French long-distance carpool application called Blablacar, reason being it was cheaper than taking the train or bus. But seriously, I’m glad I tried it. After the first time getting a ride from Blablacar, I continued using it for the second time, third time, even recommended it to my senior who came to Paris a few months later since it’s so convenient and safe. The only downside for me (which was my own issue) was I didn’t know French, and most of the drivers do not know English, so it was hard to communicate in terms of where exactly are they going to wait for me or drop me. This also means that I didn’t get to really experience the fun part of carpooling, meeting strangers and having those eye-opening conversations, except once, when I got a ride from someone called Boussard. He’s an IT guy, once worked in Dubai and decided to move to Paris with his French wife after a few years.
On a Saturday at 4:45 a.m., I was already waiting for Stephanie, the one who was going to drive us to Paris. My guess was right, she doesn’t know English. If you’re like me who wonders why someone who’s called Stephanie doesn’t know English, I got you. Stéphanie originates from the French language, but this name is now widely used both in English-speaking cultures. Hope that explains.
So, back to the story. Luckily, I had WhatsApp-ed her beforehand explaining my situation (credit to Google Translate).
“Bonjour. Je souhaite me joindre à votre voyage de Reims à Paris ce samedi matin.” (Hello, I’d like to join your trip from Reims to Paris this Saturday morning). “ Mais je suis touriste et je ne connais pas le français. Ceci est mon numéro, vous pouvez me contacter via WhatsApp. Je n’ai pas de numéro français.” (But I am a tourist and I don’t know French. This is my number, you can contact me through WhatsApp. I don’t have a French number.)
When she arrived at 5 a.m., she called me, I didn’t remember how but we managed to find each other in front of the Gare de Reims, the main train station in Reims, the city I was working in for my internship. The journey took us almost 2 hours, and she dropped me at the Gare Du Nord, a train (and metro) station in Paris.
I knew Paris was one of the most visited city in the world. For whatever reason, the main landmark, Eiffel Tower has been so popular. There’s a syndrome where couples would want to take pictures in front of the Eiffel Tower at least once in their lifetime, preferably done during their honeymoon. I thought it was an overrated landmark until I saw it myself, from inside a metro. It felt amazing and strange at the same time. It was like seeing a skeleton standing in front of you rather than a whole person, except that the skeleton was BIG, finely built, and definitely gave an aesthetic pleasure that’s not comparable to buildings with architectural sculpture or those that are made of glasses. It’s truly in its own league.
My first few seconds' encounter with the Eiffel Tower made me forget about what just happened half an hour before. I was robbed by a guy earlier at the Gare Du Nord, when I was trying to buy the metro ticket. It was again, my first time buying a metro ticket, and I was looking around, figuring out where to get it from. I guess the thief saw the word ‘TOURIST’ written on my forehead and he poked my shoulder from my back. I turned to him, he looked 2–3 years younger than me (about 17 years old), he wore a short-sleeved checkered shirt with cargo pants.
“Do you want to buy a metro ticket?” he said.
To be continued…
