I spent 3 months in Paris, a year ago, December thru February. Paris celebrated with a Buffalo (NY) size snowstorm. I learned Paris, in snow, is extremely photogenic. London on the other hand, is uglier, and unable to cope.
I started to wander the 7th arrondisment, in the snow. Like the Buffaloon in me, I didn't pack a jacket. Neither did most people I passed. All in black, they smoked and drank coffee, in an outside cafe. Most of the cafes put out tables. I sat at one, a little disappointed I'd quit, but enjoyed the second hand smoke of an animated couple two tables away.
I became proficient at hand signals: point, wave, slice. And smile. I swear I brushed up on my French, but in actual use, I had trouble remembering and the difference between French and Spanish. I learned that while some Parisians speak English, none I met speak Spanish.
I had hoped to chunnel to London, but gave up when it appeared they never figured out how to get rid of the snow. It melted in Paris. The streets glistened as with rain. I love weather metaphors.
Yes, there was vomit and dog shit on the street. Not that bad. I am agile. Some turds were artfully placed. I photographed Stonehinge at a water pipe, a cascade heaved down red brick and foot steps of someone not as nimble as I.
I photographed anything I fancied. No shots of the Eiffel, but a broken bench nearbysomeone had grafitti'd. I was lucky to be in Paris for the motorcycle grafitti exposition, more art than transport. With mostly black leathered, gray weathered, slim, long legged, shoulders that defined ... Yah, I went looking for them
Black. I look dead in black. I did gain an appreciation for the pale skin in winter swathed in black outer wear. They wore heels! Snow veterans proud in their defiance of weather, Buffalo salutes you!
AND my favorite little shop had hot dogs! In buns! The Carrefore too!
Oh dear, I just googled to find the names... rue de Sèvres, my Metro stop Vaneau... I'm going back, aren't I?