I survived Paris.
As I wrote previously, on my first trip to Paris I had an encounter with a pickpocket.
So on this second trip, I tried to stay alert at all times. I tried to imagine I was a ninja.
I was with my 70-year-old mother and Signor Lu.
We had only one unwelcome approach: a young man at the Pompidou Centre asked Signor Lu for a light. “No!!” I barked at the stranger, as I stared him down. Insouciantly, he moved away and bothered someone else.
For the remainder of the time, no one interfered with our trio.
We bought a 2-day ticket for the metro and used it a lot. Up and down stairs and escalators we went, checking the map, plotting a course, selecting the exit that best matched our needs.
Where I live (Mantova, Italy) the transport options are:
- the car
- the ponderously slow bus
- the train
- the bicycle (sharing narrow roads with speeding vehicles)
Therefore, for me, the Paris metro is a curiously delightful, multi-tentacled wonder.
I enjoyed our subterranean travels as much as I enjoyed arriving at our above-ground destinations.
And of course, some Paris metro stations are graced by pleasingly retro signage.
Even ninjas on a city break can’t resist whipping out their iPhones and taking a quick snap of iconic fonts or metro stations with special themes.
The Arts et Mêtiers (Arts and Crafts) station has been transformed into a version of Jules Verne’s Nautilus submarine.
More blog posts about Paris to come.