Snowing in Paris. Again.

Ummm, wasn't it March last time I checked?

So why is it freaking snowing in Paris?!!!!!! Like big snow, crazy wind, sticking to the ground, making life slippery and cold and brrrrrrrrrr. 

Snow.

It started this morning and by lunchtime was in full force. Paris just about shut down, because while Paris is a lot of things, what it is not is efficient in inclement weather (or really just anytime for that matter). Romantic walk along the Seine with a glass of wine? Paris delivers. Terraces full of café-goers on a sunny Saturday? Paris takes the cake. A lovely garden with fountains, statues and guards yelling at you to get off the grass? You got it. Trains that are working during a snowstorm? Paris is not your gal.

I got a call at 7:30am while I was lying in the Cloud Bed checking up on the lives of my fascinating friends on Facebook. It was my colleague/friend who lives out in the boondocks AKA: Melun. He had left his house at 6:50 to be in Paris by 9am...ummmmm one more point for living in Paris! He was worried that he wouldn't get to work on time and asked me if I could be sure to be there to open. As I reassured him that it was no problem, I wondered if I could even Vélib in this crazytown weather.

I reluctantly left the Cloud Bed and put my morning prep on full speed - listening all the while to the radio go on and on about Parisians stuck on the highways, stuck in the trains, probably freezing to death because of the snow. Snow, snow, snow!  The French love to talk about the weather, so today was a radio weather field day. 

Sure enough, the Velibs were frozen! It was metro for Cannes Cannes this morning, and I crossed my fingers, praying that I wouldn't get stuck in a frozen metro car on my way to work. 

As announcements about problematic lines echoed through the metro and people piled up through the tunnels, I searched frantically for the exit signs, just in case. Just in case what? Just in case there is a fire at this very moment, or a bomb or a fight or a panic, or...oh god. This is why I Vélib, people. 

I watched the snow fall all day in my little office, even braving the RER B in the early afternoon for a meeting. Somehow though, by the end of the day, I had momentary memory loss and decided to WALK HOME.

(not visible: cah-razy snow fall...)

(not visible: small icicles forming on the letter slots)

As I fought the wind and blinked back the ice particles repeatedly hitting my eyeballs, I kept thinking how great the metro would have been at a time like this. Funny what sub-zero temperatures will do to people. I arrived at the front door covered with snow from head to foot, and while scolding me for not using an umbrella and showing up looking like I'd gotten in a snowball fight,  Copain made me half undress on the landing as he took each article of clothing from me and carefully hung it up to dry.

It is now 11pm and guess what? It's still snowing. 

All I have to say is that Paris had better deliver this spring. I'm thinking tulip-lined gardens, perhaps a walk along the Seine, and a glass of wine en terrasse.

PS - Vie de Parisien nailed it.

Dans les Rues de Paris - Metro

I spotted this walking up rue Monge - hidden around the corner, a metro stop I've never seen before.

 I love it.

Merde in the Metro

I shouldn't make fun - I don't even have a driving license in France - but I just got sent this sad little link about a driver who thought he was going down into a parking garage.

Little did he know, he was headed down into the Chaussée d'Antin-Lafayette metro stop with his 4x4!

Police even tested him for driving under the influence due to his major snafu, but the test came out negative. I guess the signage was just very unclear...hmmm I wonder how that could happen in Paris? Poor dude.

photo source

Pickpocket in Paris

I cannot believe that I did what I did, but somehow I lost all self-control and logic and I did something that I would not advise to anyone...

I was on the line 1 metro with Copain on my way to meet up with my copine and her mari.  We were sitting down when a huge group of people got in our car.  I immediately stood up to make more room but felt uncomfortably squished due to a man who had draped a coat across his arm - somehow the coat was now pushed up against me. What bothered me more was that there was room behind him and he easily could have turned around to hold the middle pole and steady himself.

Then I noticed an older man to my right in-between the two sets of chairs, who was having a hard time balancing. He was bracing himself with both arms as he stood in the aisle.  The strange coat man kept getting closer and closer to the old man - so close that his front was now completely pushed up against the old man's back.  I wondered if they weren't traveling together because their level of closeness was off for two passengers who didn't know each other.

In addition to observing this little balancing act - old man braces - coat man pushes against him - old man acts thankful for the additional support - I was also noticing that Coat Man's arm was getting closer and closer to the old man's coat.  When it finally dawned on me what was happening, instead of quietly offering my seat to the old man I yelled, "Vous cherchez dans sa poche!!!"(you're fishing in his pockets!!) and I PUSHED Coat Man's arm away from the old man in the aisle.

Coat man glared at me, told me I was crazy and I seriously thought I was going to get my butt kicked right there on line 1. I put my hands up in defeat, told him that I was clearly wrong and apologized my head off - Copain chimed in too, reiterating how sorry I was.  My heart was racing and all I wanted to do was get off the metro. As I looked over at the old man's jacket pocket, I could see that Coat Man had managed to unzip it already.

Despite my suggestion that we get off the metro asap, we waited until our stop at Concorde and I thanked my lucky stars that Coat Man wasn't working with a team of other guys on the metro which is so often the case.

What was I thinking??!!  Pushing a guy?!! Yelling out that he's a pickpocket??!! 

On the one hand, I hope that I saved the old man from getting his wallet stolen, or others from getting their things stolen next.  On the other hand, I really should have handled that another way...clearly I acted on instinct - bad instinct.

In the USA this wouldn't be such I big deal I guess, but in Paris the culture doesn't dictate that you intervene when there is an altercation.  If Copain wasn't there, there may not have been another passenger who would have helped me.  I like to think that most people are good people (my Maman always reminds me of this), but in Paris there is a "mind your own business" attitude - chacun sa merde (everyone deals with his/her own crap).  The optimistic American in me hates this mentality but I forgot, in my haste to save the old man from losing his wallet, that I was not in America. I was in Paris, on the metro, une française. 


As we got off the metro and went up the escalator into daylight, Copain told me, "it's not your fault if the old man was stupid enough to get pickpocketed."  Still, though I know my reaction was not smart, I cannot get behind the French tant pis pour toi (too bad for you!) way of thinking. To top it all off, the old man wasn't even French - I'm not even sure he understood what was happening...

Les Gens du Metro Parisien

After over a year of daily metro-taking I've come to identify the groupings of rare specimens one can find while in transit.  The list is obviously a work in progress, ever-changing with the times and trends. But for today, mesdames, messieurs, I share with you:

Les Gens du Metro

The Text and Walkers
The metro is a place of transit - of moving - of getting to the final destination.  The Text and Walkers are those very considerate people who like to communicate 24 hours a day. Even when you want to get past them on the stairs - even when you want to move faster down the hallway. Sorry, you'll have to wait for them to send their text.

The Makeup-Putter-On-ers
The women who just didn't have enough time for foundation, lipstick, eyeliner and mascara at home.  The metro becomes a full beauty salon complete with mirror, wide-mascara eyes and hair fiddling to finish off the look. Not just a touch up people, a FULL face of makeup application. No shame...

The Lean-ers
Still in full effect.

The Stare-ers
One minute you're on line 1 going in the direction of Chateau de Vincennes, the next you're starting to get that creepy feeling that...wait - is someone staring at you? Oh oui, oui they are - that guy in the seat across the way. And he just. won't. stop. No matter how aloof you pretend to be, how wrapped up in your book /iphone/finger nail you try to feign, you just can't shake the creeper feeling. Doors opening, you running...


The Field Trippers
Groups of small people, groups of foreign people, groups of any kind - avoid. Like the plague.


The Feel Bad for Me-ers
You want to feel bad for them, but somehow their sad speech seems memorized - a robot, pretending to be a homeless person.  And you just can't seem to hand over that ticket resto, that 50 cent piece, that extra granola bar in your purse. As they walk out of the metro car and into the next wagon over to start their speech again, you see them light up a cigarette and you think to yourself, "if they were really that hungry, wouldnt they have popped for a baguette intead?".

The Listen to Me Play-ers
American Idol wannabes, these gems pop into the metro fully equipped with a speaker, microphone and cup for coins.  The problem - sometimes you don't want to hear Oh Champs Elysees played on the trumpet with back up singing as you commute to work at 9am.


The Stand Still-ers
On par with the Text and Walkers in terms of annoyance factor, the Stand Still-ers just...stand still.  In the middle of a crowded transfer tunnel. Blocking foot traffic.  Acting either lost or just bewildered.  Two words: Pull over.

Who have I missed?!