The plan of the Parisian metro is insane. Undeniably the craziest thing I've ever seen. But remarkably effective...
During the day:
I stood on the metro yesterday, as it was packed. Per usual. A woman was hellbent on staring at my leg and finally after a few minutes leans over and asks me what my tattoo says. I explain to her that its a poem by an author she probably won't know and she insists that I tell her more about it. After trying to dodge this bullet with words, picture this: she gets down on hands and knees and reads it. Then asks me to translate it for her. Sorry but I don't remember the words for sighing or longing, but I improvise. Definitely one of the weirdest things thus far to happen to me.
But at night:
We're in the streets of Paris and the sky is black and it is cold but the lingering traces of the Bordeaux in my bloodstream keeps my cheeks warm and red for a little while. The enigma of Paris is such: even though it is a HUGE city with a youth population numbering in the hundreds of thousands, somehow the city shuts down impossibly early. The metro during the week closes at 12 and on the weekends it isn't much better. You had better catch the last metro at 1:30 if you hope to make it home because in Paris you can't hail a cab, you have to call one, and the buses and metro system sleep early. I have never paid more for cab rides in my life. Each night I stay out past 1:30 I have to pay no less than 20 euros to get home in a taxi because the cabs charge from the moment you call them (on the phone because on the street they won't stop for you), to the moment they drop you off at your doorstep.
So whoever once told me that Paris is the city that never sleeps clearly had no idea what they were talking about.