Parisian Suburbia

The great Paris. It’s a city I have come to love and hate at the same time. I have enjoyed my time here and will also be happy to move on. There are two things I love about Paris and the Parisian suburbia.

In Paris itself, I could be driving around the small winding streets, cursing the suicidal pedestrians and drivers when all of a sudden I round a corner and come upon an incredible view – a monument, a statue. Sitting all by itself in all its incredible glory in the middle of a roundabout as it sits and watches life going on as the cars go around it.

I have been spending a lot of time reading classical French literature and the incredible thing about it is that you can recognise the neighbourhoods based on the names and imagine the lives they led living in the same streets and its corners with the same names. There is something deeply mesmerising about knowing you are walking around the same streets.

Parisian suburbia also has its place in history as the neighbourhoods have become cities. They tend to be a little less bustling thereby giving some peace. I’ve learned to see them as a gateway between Paris and the rest of France.

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