Wonderful Parisians

In the early hours of a Friday evening, by the quay of the Seine, you are watching people run. They might belong to the Midnight Runners, the Barbès Runners, Kilometre Zero or the On Run Club. There are so many runners everywhere. The Parisians love sports, you are thinking. You are amazed. Time flies, and it’s now 10pm. It’s fashion week in Paris. You decide to grab a drink and a late Pizza dinner at La Perle. You meet so many amazingly weird people and grab one last drink with them at l’Etincelle before heading to a club, whose name you have forgotten, with your new friends, whose names you have also forgotten. But that is completely fine, everyone is having fun. Luckily you remember the name of the music collective playing at the club tonight: Super Boom. You spend the night dancing and wake up the next morning in your apartment in the 11th arrondissement —the most vibrant arrondissement in Paris packed with the most vibrant people. The sun hits your window it’s 9am. You can hear children and parents going about their day. You get up and walk to 10Belles to grab a filter coffee and a bowl of granola. Next door are your friends from Le Grand Bréguet, already working. You decide to drop by and grab another little coffee with them. You look at the place’s large wall and wonder once again how long and how much work it must have taken Manette to make this huuuge piece of art. You continue your Saturday stroll and end up on Rue Saint-Maur where you grab lunch in the sun at Les Petites Indécises, starter and main dish of course. What a wonderful Saturday you have had so far. You decide to walk back to your place to take a little nap. You enter Rue Breguet and walk by Maison Béguin. You wave to your friend running the place and see in the distance that the crossfitters of CFOA are carrying heavy kettlebells through the streets again. You cheer them on and stop at the gym’s entrance to talk to some of your friends who just finished their training. You leave them with a big smile and head back to your place. You lay down, close your eyes, and in the far distance you hear the dictator screaming and shouting.

These are fictional but not unrealistic 24 hours in Paris.

Paris is known for its cafés, restaurants, small shops, and all kinds of cultural activities. But these only exist because there are people —wonderful Parisians— making them for people. I’ve met a lot of them in the recent past and they are what makes Paris an incredible experience.

I believe that every city should be made by its people, for its people. Without it a city would by nothing, and the experience simply bad, not worth experiencing, or nonexistent.