There are many great things about the Paris metro. It serves the city extremely well and wherever you are you’re pretty close to at least 3 metro stations to select from. And the time that you have to spend on the metro is quite short as the distances from one station to another can be like a minute of traveling time, unlike some subway systems I can name ( London I’m lookin at you!)
But those short minutes you spend on the metro can be the most unpleasant minutes of your day.
Firstly, an open message to large groups of tourists, if one person in your party is purchasing tickets for all of you, all of you do NOT need to stand up in the line. Furthermore, when your dude buys the tickets can you move out of the line to do your distribution process?? There are other people behind you and you’re being dicks.
Secondly, the Paris Metro has HIGH levels of crazy. Super high. From the man the other day who was clearly suffering from French Tourette’s, to the pregnant and clearly strung out on drugs lady begging on the train to yesterday’s grizzly gentleman in what looked like and orange prison shirt completely unbuttoned with his entire Santa Clause (without the jolliness) size hairy belly on display, breezing out in the seats across from me. He was scary. And starey. He stared at everyone.
Oh and to the mister who was diggin his nose super hard in the metro for ten minutes jus now and LOOKING AT IT…yuh nasty.
The Paris metro also has high gross factor. I would love to tell you that the stereotype about the French and their aversion to showering isn’t true but my mother didn’t raise a liar. Added to that, not all trains are air conditioned, so as summer creeps up on us every step into a metro car or elevator is like a game of Smell Roulette. Smell Roulette is a losing game.