As you may have guessed now I do like comparing things. It’s a bad habit, but hey, you guys asked for bakwaas, now here, have some.
There are some things in life that are incomparable and some of those I value deeply. Everything else in-between however, is subjected to my comparing.
About the two cities, I’ve now buzzed around both, thus I deem I qualify in order to make a comparison. So, let’s start shall we?
To be perfectly honest, aside from the language difference, there is hardly any ‘visible difference’ between either city. They share a similar general landscape (buildings), climate and a very similar metro/underground/subway system. There’s a similar cosmopolitan feel and a beautiful blend of people from all over the world. Ok, so the touristy places are distinguished like London’s Big Ben and Buckingham Palace etc and Paris’s Eiffel Tower, Arc De Triomphe, yada yada. Oh, and the cuisine! Of course, food, but even that depends on what kind of food you’re looking to eat, I suppose, if like me and the BFF you’re going to dive on fast food, then that omits any differences in cusine too.
However there are some differences worth noting down:
Men:
It’s a fact, the men in London are gay, most of them are anyway. I’m serious. I’ve visited London about three times now with my female friends and have really made an effort with my appearance each time. Oh, and by the way ‘making an effort’ isn’t necessarily about roping in men – actually honestly, that’s never truly my reason for taking care of my appearance* – but I’m completely treated like I’m invisible in London. I fail to elicit even a blink! Are they blind? Do they even know who I am? How rude. I could just swear they’re all gay!
Men aside however, people in London never make eye contact with you and come across cold and snobbish. There’s generally a very ‘tense’ atmosphere. I suppose it is one of the hubs of the world’s financial activity, maybe that contributes to the busy and ‘tense’ factor.
There’s a famous unspoken rule about the London Underground too and that’s never to make eye contact (let alone speak) with fellow passengers on the tube.
Now, Paris, is the complete opposite. The men (and women) were so open, welcoming and friendly it was touching. It’s so not what I was expecting. I was used to the arctic bitch factor of London. I was literally treated like a princess. All that attention does have its negatives though and for the first time ever I got unprecedented attention from men, me, more than my friend (which she wasn’t very happy about). There’s a certain point where it’s all really flattering (or in my case, embarrassing) but beyond that point it’s just perverted, and there were a few unsavoury ‘incidences’. luckily other people in my vicinity interfered and kind of rescued me. Girls, don’t forget to pack the pepper spray. Even then though, I didn’t feel so threatened by him, I felt I could easily have outsmarted him and ran, but I suppose I should never underestimate these things. But it’s like instinct with some people, with some guys in the past, I’ve only to have recieved so much as a look and I’ve felt so shaken and violated and permanently traumatised.
I think the worst time though was was when I split up from my friend whilst shopping at the Champs Elysees and we agreed to meet a certain shop, I was crossing the road and bumped into two American tourists who then began to follow me calling out ”voules vous couche avec moi”. Like I don’t know what that bloody means? I didn’t say a word, just ignored them like I hadn’t heard them and tried losing myself in the crowds but they followed me around for atleast 20mins, even following me into a shop, where I sought help from the big, burly security guard there. He finally put an end to it. Phew! Just be careful girls. Remember, men in Paris, whether they’re tourists or locals, are quite unashamedly keen on women. When I told the girls at work about the latter incident, they were surprised I hadn’t turned on my heel and yelled: ”Oye, I’m from Manchustuh! And I’ll deck yuh’s!” They would have ran in the other direction quicker than lightning, never to bother me again. Haha! That sounds right actually. Seedy Americans, honestly.
Then there was another thing that happened which was really, really sweet, I’ll blog about that another time though.
Fashion:
Parisians dress very casually and minimalistic. Quite unlike how urban folk dress in England, but one thing’s right though, they may even look boring but Parisians never seem to look tacky. I truly envy them for that.
In England people are generally a bit more expressive when it comes to fashion but at the same time not all of these fashionable folk can carry the look off, on a whole, they risk looking very, very tacky.
It was a gay guy in the Kenzo menswear boutique who I was speaking with who actually instigated this whole London vs Paris debate thing. He was a Frenchman completely enamored by London over Paris, because of the ‘flamboyance’ and ‘E…’ damn, what’s that E word he used… Can’t remember now. Anyway, he’s gay, Londoners are gay too, so of course – that’s his spiritual home.
General attitudes:
Friendly, very warm as I’ve already mentioned. Always willing to help, well in my case anyway. They actually went out of their way to help me out. Like many times when I asked for help with directions they actually walked us halfway to our destination. Sometime they’d approach us themselves if we looked a little lost. Or one teenager, I remember when we asked him for directions and about two blocks down we amost took the wrong turn and he ran to catch up with us, down those two blocks, out of breath, he then proceeded to walk us to the place we wanted to go before turning and going back the way he was originally going. Anything, anywhere, whatever, they helped us out. I’m truly indebted to these people. Wait till you hear the other story about that ’sweet’ incident too. You’d be awestruck. Oh wait, how can I forget about the old owners (brothers) of Cafe Istanbul, a few doors away from our hotel. We ate there every night we were there and sometimes during the day. They really treated us like princesses. They’d be so happy to see us whenever we walked in and then they weeped when we bade them farewell. Sniff! I’m feeling the compulsion to return already.
Then there’s the return of the caring attitude when it comes to protests and things. I heard that Paris holds many a street protest/rally, quite frequently. I was there for roughly 6 days and only got to witness one protest and that was one against the Tamil Tigers. I noticed how strangers off the street no matter who were quite respectful to the cause and either joining in or being pleasant enough to at least enquire about the cause and help themselves to flyers. Everyone just looked so interested, whether it was some European, Asian Oriental, African or Arab, whoever.
One can’t even dream of either the former or latter attitudes being present in the mindset of the Londoners. They simply don’t have any time to spare a thought, apparently.
Accessibility:
As I said in the photos post, everything is just so within reach. In London it’s as if you can only admire things from a distance. It’s all cordoned off and manned by security personnel at certain parameters. Boo!
Whereas in Paris everything’s seemingly just so open and within your reach.
To be fair, at the time when I visited London to do the touristy things like London Eye (it’s so crap!) and River Thames cruise, it was really busy and during the summer at peak time. Despite having pre-booked tickets, we still had to wait about 2hrs to board on each attraction. Those tickets weren’t exactly cheap either. Really didn’t enjoy it.
With Paris it was a relatively low fare and didn’t have to wait as there was hardly a queue to go up the Eiffel Tower (still, we didn’t go, as we opted for a refreshing stroll around Parc du Mars and some ice cream instead. That and the fact that my friend’s scared of heights) and then there was the River Seine cruise which was a low fare and again hardly anybody queuing and it was a really relaxed and stress-free experience. Yippee!
The Pakistani cuisine dilemma:
This was my first time visiting France, in case you were wondering. I recall watching ‘9os TV show Gulls and Guys and the part when Junaid Jamshed (pre-mullah makeover era) visited Paris, there was a Lahore Food Street style place which served Pakistani food. It was my mission to find this place. Thanks to my friend S’s research skill, she found it. It’s called Passage Brady and it was only a 5 minute walk from our hotel in 10th Arandissement. Perfect! But, no make that a BIG BUT, there was no Pakistani food. It was Indian food only. Now there is a difference between these two cusines (and I’m glad to know that French people reportedly know and appreciate the difference). Besides we couldn’t eat there anyway as the meat used wasn’t necessarily halal. I would have been happy with vegetarian but then, maybe I’m still a little narrow minded, as I wasn’t entirely comfortable eating in a place where everywhere my eyes rested was a picture or statue of the Hindu gods. Sorry, but I’m being honest when I say I didn’t feel very comfortable. We left Passage Brady and finally found a Halal eatery run by Muslim Indians from Delhi. The food was a-ok.
You see there’s a reason we were looking specifically for Pakistani food, let’s ignore the bias with my being a Pakistani myself; honestly who can dispute the superior yumminess of Pakistani food? Who? No one! My experience in Saudi Arabia (well mine and a group of Pakistani-food-loving Moroccans experience alike) substantiated the true value of wholesome, authentic Pakistani food.
Be wary though, a lot of Indian eateries in Paris claim to serve ‘Pakistani food’, well they don’t, it’s a rip-off ploy. We tried in vain to find a Pakistani place but ended up eating at Cafe Istanbul anyway (their stuff was gorgeous too and I’m craving it so bad now).
Our prayers were finally answered on that day were shopping at the Champs Elysees when we spotted a tall man dressed in Pakistani attire; a white salwar kameez, a mirrored Balochi style waistcoat and the pagri and all that jazz, holding up a placard reading ”Authentic Pakistanais Cuisine” (ok, so all of it was written in French). Upon approaching him he led us into a mall leading to the restaurant. This time I wasn’t taking any chances and asked the men there (they were all old ‘uncle’ types, ok? No ideas please) – whereabouts they’re originally from, we only took a seat when they replied Lahore. And then, we feasted on cheese filled naan, a fingerlicking, yummy mixed grill, saagh aloo, parathay and mango lassi, yum yum yum YUM! Then when we got the bill at a ridiculous 65 euros (!), we came straight back down to earth!
Oh! We also spoke at length with the uncle jees in Urdu about Pakistani politics and my Mush-loving friend joined in with the waiters as they did some Zardari-bashing, yawn. When they finally shut up I asked them about why it’s so difficult to find Pakistani food in Paris and why there are ‘fake Pakistani eateries’ etc. They replied that in terms of ‘desi food’ Paris is behind England by about a good 15 years. Wow! Britons are very lucky. But in England Pakistani food is marketed as Indian food in most premium restaurants in order to sell. Completely opposite to the situation in Paris really.
So there you go then! Despite the food thing though, there was no real issue really in finding Halal food, there were plenty of Arab, Turk etc places everywhere really.
So, this is a no brainer really; It’s PARIS all the way!
Now these are my very personal experiences, views and I’m sure such experiences variate between individuals.


















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