While in Paris

While I was apartment hunting in Lyon, a French person once told me, “There’s Paris, Nice, and the rest of France.” And there’s truth in that.

Paris is Paris: sensual, rustic, elegant, loud yet quiet—a city of contrasts that somehow manages to remain undeniably refined. Everything about it feels delightful, from the taste of a simple coffee or croissant to the richness of duck confit. Paris leaves its mark on both your lips and your soul. Yes, it can seem arrogant, but only if you choose to see it that way.

Paris exists as a world in itself, offering all one could ever need.

Parisians might grumble about the weather, which is often drearier than in other parts of France. But when it comes to trading their life in Paris for sunnier skies, most wouldn’t. The city’s charm outweighs any drizzle.

Paris isn’t a destination for just one trip; it’s a lifetime love affair. Every visit feels like a new chapter, unveiling hidden corners and fresh perspectives on the city.

Paris is synonymous with culture. Most self-respecting Parisians, particularly among the older generations, possess museum memberships and use them frequently. There’s something magical about watching elderly couples meet and stroll through the latest exhibit at the Musée d’Orsay or any other place. 

Life in Paris moves quickly. Parisians are always in a hurry. The common French custom of stopping work at 5 or 6 pm rarely applies here. Emails after hours or even on weekends are not uncommon. After living in France for two years, I find this behaviour more and more distant, with my computer closed at 6 p.m., but an occasional email from Paris reminds me that there is life at another pace happening.