Paris Tourism: A guide
In Paris, they speak French. All the time. Not as a game or a joke. And they don’t just switch to English because French is hard. Because they are French and they speak French. To experience the French language, you can listen to the radio news at franceinfo.fr.
This is going to be frightening. You are going to feel like an idiot for not speaking French, and then you are going to be mad at the French for making you feel like an idiot.
Things in Paris are expensive. The only expenses of your vacation will not just be an illegal AirBnB rental up 100 stairs, a plane ticket, a pack of BBQ chips at the airport and a magazine about the sex life of a Kardashian. Food costs money. Museums cost money. Yes, museums.
You are going to have a violent fear of sparkling mineral water. You will want to yell: FLAT FLAT. Do not do this. Just ask for “une carafe d’eau.” Pronounced: Ooooohn (like Moon without the “m”, care-AF-doe. This will be tap water that does not cost $8.50. It costs zero dollars, and will not get you into a ferocious rage that water has a price.
I highly suggest sticking to tourist locations. They are made for you. They have big signs in your language. But you will still get lost. I suggest holding hands at all times, but walking single-file.
In Paris, things are not always open. Lunch is served between 12:30pm-2pm and many kitchens are completely closed at 3pm. Dinner is served after 7pm. And they don’t snack in between meals. If you need roughly 1,000 calories to fill the void, there are Starbucks. I suggest going to them. They will make you feel safe. They serve coffee that is the size of a small child, instead of a coffee made for ants.
Everyone knows you are a tourist. When you wear a sweatshirt that says, “Ohio Bobcats,” you will not be mistaken for a Japanese woman.
Wear shoes that are made for single-mother nurses who work a minimum of 72-hour shifts at a time. Also, bring a portable fibrillator unless you are long-distance marathon runner. Being a tourist is basically being Forrest Gump. Your vacation will be your exercise for the year. If you wear a FitBit, it will start crying.
Buy tickets for the Louvre online at a specific time beforehand. This will save you roughly 1½ days of waiting in line. In the top right hand corner of the site you can pick your language. You have to click English. There is no button for American. Which is frankly ignorant on their part.
The French do not walk and drink beverages at the same time. They are horrible multi-taskers.
After you get off your flight, go to the ATM, get French money using your credit card. Most cabs don’t accept credit cards.
If you use a credit card, tell the waiter how much you want to tip them. This is awkward for you. Not for them. Tip 10%. To get the bills say: “L’addition, s’il vous plaît.” It is pronounced, “La dee see on see voo play.”
Also, prepare a meal to take an hour and a half. The waiter will not pay attention to you because he is not used to humans inhaling food in 20 minutes. If you get the waiter’s attention in less than 1½ hours, you are basically a pro and he is basically nicer than Jesus.
Buy a compass. Buy a magnifying glass for maps. Your iPhone won’t work. You will feel naked and alone. In a foreign country. Because you are in one.
Buy a hearing aid. The French are very aware of sharing public space. Sound is public space. You are loud. Very loud. Too loud. Get a hearing aid and then whisper. You will still be too loud, but your attempt will be appreciated.
If you are a man, practice sitting next to another man with your elbows touching. Do not scream. Use a timer to increase your ability to do this. Breath deeply, but not too deeply that someone could think you are aroused. Sitting next to a man does not make you gay. It is only foreplay with no promises.
Gelato makes everything better always.
Bring an adaptable charger at Walgreen’s. The outlets are different in France because the electricity runs slower. That is a lie. But could be the truth.
Always bring sunglasses and an umbrella. It often rains while the sun blinds. I call it ex-girlfriend weather. It changes every five-minutes for no reason. Note: My ex-girlfriends are likely my ex-girlfriends because I found that joke terribly funny. I still do. I am a single.
Bon courage. That means tell everyone you had the best time and it’s the best city in the whole world and cry a little bit inside. But then have a macaron, and fall in love with Paris all over again with each bite--as they are not meant to be swallowed whole.