Paree

Paris, the city of lights, love and fashion right?

Um yeah, my experience was quite different.

First up there's the smell. Nobody tells you about the smell. The place actually reeks of urine. I'm not sure where it comes from but it's one of those odours that sneaks up on you...just when you think you're safe you turn a bend and it slaps you in the face. Heartbreaking when this happens mid-crepe.

But ahh the food! Parisian cuisine is a redeeming factor- that is if you can find someone who'll serve you. After a train ride from Amsterdam and an hour or so of traipsing through the rain, Julia and I stumbled into a cosy looking restaurant. What wasn't so cosy was the reception. Not only were we English speakers but we dared to arrive too early for dinner service; “We derr nat seurve dinnow oontil sevoon!” barked the owner. First lesson learnt; the French don't do early bird specials.

Eventually we ended up settling for a baguette and some €5 Bordeaux which as you will find in France, was equally as amazing as any slap up dinner in a fancy restaurant.

I felt a bit strange in Paris as it took a while for me to fall for the city's charms. I actually feel a bit sorry for the place as it is quite possibly the most over hyped city in the world. The way that it is sold to tourists is so romanticised that you can't help but arrive with a bunch of pre-conceived notions in your suitcase. I suggest dumping these at the station.

Don't be a list ticker in Paris. Go and see the Eiffel tower but don't bother spending hours in a line to go up it. Our walking tour guide made the very good point that if you are up the tower, you can't actually see it in the city scape. A much better view is up the top of the Arc de Triomphe. Plus you get to watch the mental uncontrolled Parisian mess that is the intersection down below. Guaranteed prang every five minutes.

Another reality check is the Louvre. It's big, real big. So big that you couldn't possibly see everything in there unless you spent six years in the damn thing (seriously). A much better option is the Musee d'Orsay, described to us by a local as a selection of the best paintings in Paris. The Louvre by comparison is the 'mall' of paintings- they'll take anything. Yes, it has Mona but almost everyone I've spoken to says that she is a bit of a Sopranos finale- aka total let down.

If Paris were a person it would be a washed up actress that can't quite shake the delusions of grandeur she clung to so ardently in her youth. Funnily enough, this is what makes her charming. No other place emits this kind of character more than the district of Montmartre. You may know it from such films as Amelie. I now know it as the place where you truly feel like you are in Paris.

Montmartre is a treasure trove of history and art. There's the restaurant where Picasso used to paint the waitresses portraits to score a free dinner, Van Gogh's flat (and the brothel where he mailed his ear to the prostitute he wanted to marry!) and the beautiful Sacre Coeur. Add a sprinkle of street art, dash of Satanists (yup), a few handfuls of delicious eateries, a windmill or two and you get the real Paris, not the post card version.

If I'm lucky enough to go back there I will head straight to Montmartre, eat a bowl of cheese laden French onion soup and pose for a portrait with one of the insanely talented painters that line the streets. That is my impression of the true romance of Paris. I suggest you go there immediately and find your own. 

-Montmartre at dusk