Paris Metro culture

The Metro has a life all its own. Sometimes there’s hardly anyone there on the platform and the train is nearly empty. More of the time it’s packed and people are jammed in so tight the doors sometimes can’t close. No one could fall over when the train jolts; there’s nowhere to fall.

Unlike in London, there’s almost no escalators, so it’s all stairs and long corridors. I’m getting quite the workout.

In the corridors where several cross there are buskers playing accordions or the fiddle or singing karaoke style. Many of them very, very good. They deserve to be discovered in my opinion. There were a couple of men playing on the train this morning and a white cat traveling crouched on its owner’s shoulders. It reminded me of Mr Bijoux who came hiking with us in the forest of Romania last summer.

The upright poles to cling onto have three branches to them like a tree so there’s more available for people to hang on to. This morning there was a naked 2 – 3 ft plastic doll resting on the forks of the branches. I think I’ve seen it all, but I probably haven’t.

People are rushing from place to place with blank faces and things plugged in their ears. We are so very lucky that we don’t have to live this lifestyle.

I am an oddity – an older woman traveling alone. I’ve only seen one other so far. I’m also short! My umbrella is several inches lower than everyone else’s.

The weather changes from bitterly cold to less cold but raining. My umbrella is threatening to give up. April in Paris? This feels more like December in Paris.

I’m getting done what I need to do but am really pushing myself. I’m getting older and it’s inconvenient!