Scary city Paris
A native of Paris sells the Eiffel Towers near the Louvre
“Ah, Paris, oh, Paris, I want to go to Paris” - all sorts of sayings troll us. Or even cooler - see Paris and die! What the heck, who said that? Yes, how not to die in this Paris, by God! Today's Paris is no longer the same as 10-15 years ago, and not at all the same as tour operators describe to us (although they show the city for 2-3 hours so that tourists do not see too much), or maybe the whole world lives a lie and illusions. The city is flooded with Arabs, Indians, Chinese and blacks, and these are no longer “come in large numbers”, these are the indigenous people of France. Citizens of the quality "French French" (French Frenchman), as the Arabs disparagingly call them, make up 45 percent of the total population at most. In principle, after a couple of hours you get used to it, if only there were no excesses. Moreover, blacks are often much more friendly than whites.
“When you arrive in Paris, ask the blacks for directions, they make contact faster, ” a friend gave me such advice. And so it happened. Having reached the Bercy station in Paris from Tours, I went down to the metro, bought a ticket, and was given a free map of the city. I had to get to Belleville station, with a transfer. A dark-skinned girl explained to me how to get to the train I needed. The whites just shrugged their shoulders - "my don't understand yours. "
Metro in Paris is creepy. On the blue line, the wagons are normal, on the brown line they are old and terrible, the people in the wagon are the most motley. I reached the desired station and crawled out into the light of day. Rain is coming. Google maps screwed me up - the account ran out of money, free roaming did not work. A sweet couple passed by - a Negro and an Arab of a criminal type. They stared at me intently, my travel bag and fur coat. It was nice".
I sat down in a cafe that traditionally did not have Wi-Fi in France. The café 's patrons, all white pensioners, were unable to explain how I could get to the hostel. I had to order coffee. As I expected, after the calculation, they condescended to me and showed me which way to drag. A couple more lanes, a couple of conversations with nice dark-skinned ladies - and I'm there! Hooray! I went to the hostel and finally felt warm and safe.
Hostel - LOFT BOUTIQUE HOSTEL - was located in the center of the 20th arrondissement of Paris, in the lively Belleville district, close to many bars, restaurants, Chinese shops, and not far from the metro. I liked the room. After a snack and a good night's sleep, I went to get acquainted with the evening Paris.
I went to Notre Dame Cathedral. On this day, only students were allowed into it, three huge black men in uniform guarded the entrance, there was no chance to seep inside.
A street musician played nearby, he sang simply gorgeous, I listened. A young man approached me, a handsome "French French", we got to talking. I was terribly hungry, so I asked him to accompany me to a cafe so that I could have a quiet dinner. He said that he was in a hurry to meet friends, but he would show me a cafe. And we went, for some reason, across the bridge, into some nooks and crannies, went out to the Seine... "French French" offered to go down the steps to the river, climbed to kiss. I rushed back to the Norm-dames. She ran as fast as Esmeralda from a goat. Near the cathedral, another applicant, an elderly "Arabic French", was already "waiting" for me. He muttered something, but by that moment I was completely tired of the increased attention to my person. In my fur jacket and with white hair, I was a real exotic in Paris, so much so that it was difficult to sit down and eat somewhere. The men stuck in batches: “Russian, Russian, fur coat!
the Arabs and Italians yelled, grabbing my hands. At least take a stick in your hands, but fight back like wolves.
I did manage to have dinner - in an Italian restaurant. There I met a girl from Colombia, on a business trip. We drank wine, concluded that Paris is shit, and together we went to the metro. Walking together turned out to be much more pleasant and safer, the “suitors” moderated their lustful agility. Negroes crowded near the subway, danced rap to a tape recorder, jumped and shouted. I took out cigarettes, treated my new girlfriend. She was just in seventh heaven with happiness. Cigarettes in France are expensive and disgusting, sold only in special tobacco shops in beer shops full of creepy men. Marlboro Gold costs 7.30 euros. But this does not stop anyone - everyone smokes. Girls, boys, adults, pensioners, blacks, whites, yellows, they all smoke. Cigarette butts are thrown directly on the floor or in flower beds. Freedom!
This is a word about the vaunted European purity and culture.
I got to the hostel not without incident. On the subway, I was being chased by a “French Latino, ” a handsome guy with a pimp-eye. A dark-skinned Chinese man clung to the escalator. I had to look at him like he was shit, the boyfriend retreated. Already on the Rue Belleville, a French Noir jumped out in a car, black as night, all in chains. Kam viz mi, he shouted to me. “I don’t understand, ” I replied and ran to the hostel. French Noir did not let up, circled around the block and again jumped out to meet me. Persistent what! Thank God, there was a garbage dump between us, it allowed me to escape. I slept that night like the dead.
Interestingly, the inhabitants of the hostel did not walk anywhere in the evenings. We sat in the kitchen with gadgets, watched movies, drank tea and coffee, cooked dinner - fried mushrooms and pancakes, baked pizza in the oven, cooked soup. It's like a culinary competition.
And no wonder - food in France is very expensive. Lunch in a restaurant will cost you 20-25 euros per person, coffee - 2.10-3.7, beer - 4 - 7 euros per glass (4 is 0.25), such as kebab (disgusting) with french fries (also disgusting) - 5-6 euros, coffee with a muffin in a street eatery - 6 euros. So, if you are a budget traveler and live in a hostel, it is cheaper to buy groceries from the supermarket and cook yourself. I was the only one foolish enough to go to Notre Dame for dinner.
My second day in Paris was more relaxed and productive.
The Eiffel Tower, I'm a runner in the back))
I got to the Eiffel Tower - well, how could it be without it! The tower is like a tower, next to it is a carousel with scary zebras, huge blacks selling hats and souvenirs, well-fed clochards (beggars, beggars) of Iranian origin on a beautiful flower blanket. I took a boat ride on the Seine and took a bus to the Louvre.
There was no queue to the museum, I calmly examined most of the exhibits. I got lost, I was looking for a way out for 20 minutes, I bought souvenirs for my relatives in underground shops. French shopping did not impress me at all, an avid blouse-clother. The clothes are mostly greyish-greenish colors and stupid cuts, which I don't like. When I was sorting out my bag in the hostel, the neighbor girls, students from New Zealand, all groaned and gasped: “What beautiful clothes you have! » So - and themselves with a mustache. There are also few decent shoes. But the shops of home textiles and cosmetics are really amazing.
I did not dare to go to the center in the evening for dinner. Too tired, and still running from these French fools . . They can catch up, and tomorrow the plane. My roommate, a healthy 30-year-old man from Lebanon, refused to walk with me in the evening in Paris. He did not name the reason for the refusal, but I realized that he was simply afraid.
I had to limit myself to a walk around Belleville. In a Chinese cafe I bought something tasty, meaty and hot, similar to khinkali, as well as a package of croissants and a bottle of water for the trip. I ordered a transfer from the hostel to the airport - 26 euros. Yes, it’s not cheap, but the thought that I would have to go down to the damn Paris metro again, and even with a bag, and then go by train, horrified me. So when I was already in Kyiv at the railway station drinking a huge latte coffee (at a sane Ukrainian price - 20 UAH), Ukraine seemed to me a paradise on earth.
In contact with the lives of people in other countries, much becomes clear. The notorious “not well-groomed”, or “European natural” appearance - due to the high cost of cosmetics and hairdressing services. A haircut costs from 27 to 50 euros, a manicure - 30-50 euros, Loreal hair dye - 12 euros (yes, yes, both Loreal and Maybelline, all this is in French stores).
Gatherings in a cafe - because of the huge payment for heating and light, but I want to warm up. Nondescript clothing is simply cheaper: a gray or beige sweater costs 25-35 euros, and blue, red, orange - already 70 euros. For a demi-season jacket, you need to pay from 50 euros, for boots - 120-150. Love for sports and a slender physique - see the item "Expensive food", and in the evenings in some areas of the French capital it is much more dangerous than in Bangkok. The criminal situation in Paris, and in other cities, due to the abundance of "children of different nations" is already such that even Arabs from Morocco and Algeria are very reluctant to send their children to study at French universities. Of course, you can survive in any situation if you run fast.
But if this is the very coveted Eurolife, then I don't even know what to say.
Probably, Ukraine is still a paradise. For now.
