Paris metro

Just came back from a 4 days weekend in Paris. Well, i wanted to go to London, but who can complain of handing up in Paris? While wandering around i was asking myself if this is the real romantic city or if this is just a clichè… Lately unfortunately the public manifestation of love bother me sensitively. I guess that is a form of jealousy and that whenever I am single -which part of me still believe is not a natural condition for the true me, something I am afficted by, like a disease- I will find this very annoying, Anyway Paris defenetly has something lovely and almost happily sickening… not sure if it derives from the architecture, from the tasty oportunities for the palate, from the history oozing from every piece of stone, from all of these together… Besides the fact that I have been strongly assaulted by two main things: the urine smell of the subway and the perfume of the boulangerie in the streets.

Anywa, one of the ideas that kept bouncing from one corner to the other of my skull, generated from my activity of observer-writer. I was sitting on the metro and relised how narrow are the seats there, with all the people pushing and pulling to get to sit. I was in a brasserie and relised how non-detached are the tables with the strangers eating almost from your own plate and listening to your intimate conversation. I find this human proximity quite special. My first reaction wasn’t so positive, then i started thinking how in CH the perseption of personal space is radically different. I would dare to say that in Switzerland there is a diffuse attitude towards politeness and good manners, but these stay ona very superficial level, people tend to be worried about being correct with the others and to expect the same, they expect everyone to observe the rules. On the other hand I found that in Paris there was more true solidarity, something that sounds like: “we are all sitting here, so close to each other; oh sorry, I am stepping on your feet, I am sitting on your coat, I almost fall on you while the train breaks… and in this forced neighbourhood, in this lesson that the city and the culture around us wish to teach us, we understand eachother, we accept each other.” I thought that in Switzerland there is in general more respect of the common living, more fairplay, a more clear distinction between private and public, but also more distance, which means less opportunity to get to (or to wish to) know your neighbour and thus less tolerance. So for once I was happy to get rid of my aseptic cover and to mix with the parisian multicolour crowed. This is the best feeling i bring home from these french days.

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