The streets are lined with shit.
Walk around Paris for long enough and you’ll step in shit.
It looks like a pram has gone right through the middle of this one.
Parisians love dogs. Big dogs on leads in the street. Small dogs in cafes. Dogs in handbags. Dogs in places where dogs ought not to be. There are dogs everywhere. Which is kind of concerning considering the number of people who live in apartments. Animal welfare aside, think about human welfare for a second. Using a coat hanger to scrape animal faeces off your shoe is less than ideal.
So there are two cities in Paris.
The first Paris is the city you see when you’re looking up. History, culture and beautiful women. The other Paris is the city you see when you’re looking down. Dog shit and fetid, urine soaked pavement.
It’s difficult to walk on the street and avoid the shit whilst keeping your head up, your mind focused on a spluttering of French from a couple, not quite arm in arm, hurrying past. The archaic architecture and the smell of bread.