Bridget abroad: Paris is overrated

Bonjour, une parle anglais. I don’t know if that’s how you pronounce the French version of hello I speak English or of I’m asking for your permission to pee. Second languages are not my forte.

A weekend in Paris has been lovely, but also a tad stressful and not quite what I thought it would be.

Paris fashion is beautiful, tres chic. The women are elegant and sleek, wearing the clothes rather than letting the clothes wear them. I like the sexiness of Paris. Cigarettes, smoke, skipping lunch, pastries, high heels. The allure is the impracticality. We admire those who are eccentric in doing the hard tasks, choosing style over substance and pain over pleasure. I wish to grow more refined in a natural way if tres possible.

The food is intriguing at best. Carbs, wine and dairy are my trifecta, the quickest sure fire way to an IBS flare up. I’m not sure paris was built for the intolerant. I liked the poke bowl. The hot chocolate was nice but I would much prefer a savoury breakfast. I also don’t do stunt food. I don’t see the allure in the over top and quite frankly obscene combinations, par pushing obesity and diabetes to tourists. I find the food to rich. I’m not dependent on food patterns any more but I do not crave the excess.

That’s without mentioning the price. Paris food, more specifically tourist food is extortion. I do not crave the obscene.

I have enjoyed paris sure, but it makes me reevaluate the idea of travelling to cities. When I express detest at London at the best of times, and lisbon for being too crowded. I enjoyed the style of copenhagen, the quietness of Denmark. Perhaps I prefer the more rural areas. I like being settled and less over populated. Bon voyage Paris.