UBC October 2025 - Emily in Paris? More Like Reality in Paris

It's been six years since our last visit to Paris.

Not much has changed since I wrote about Reasons to love and / or hate Paris 

I did notice, though, that there are bike lanes everywhere now, which is great. Some plazas have also been turned into car-free zones, making the city a bit more pedestrian-friendly — and honestly, that’s a welcome improvement.

Let's approach my perception of the French capital differently today. I feel most Americans have a very romantic idea of Paris, and I can't blame them. Every American movie I know portrays it in a charming, yes, enchanting way. Cobble stones, bridges, music, wine. Think Emily in Paris (whose office location of Savoir we actually located) sort of like on this postcard:

Now I won't lie, Paris has beautiful sights, spots, architecture and history. 

But Paris is also smelly. Wherever you go, even at the polished locations, you will smell cigarette smoke, old frying oil, and, pardon my French, piss.

As a tourist, you see far fewer homeless people in the city, mainly due to the fact that before last year's Olympics, the government has been relocating the more visible encampments into temporary shelters and reception centers, but you can still clearly smell the traces they leave behind. Perhaps I am being unfair to them. It could also be because certain public toilets have no doors.

Paris is also becoming increasingly American, which I don't understand. The French used to be so patriotic and defensive of their language and culture. Everywhere you look, you'll see Westfield, Starbucks, and burger chains. Don't get me wrong, you know SBUX is my home away from home, and I appreciate a juicy burger at Five Guys, it just feels like they sold their soul or something?

Even the Opéra is being renovated, and instead of preserving its elegance, they covered it with a semi-convincing backdrop, mostly hidden behind a gigantic cell phone advertisement. Nothing says “cultural heritage” quite like a billboard the size of a building.

For our graduation trip back then, we spent a week in Paris, and we had several projects to work on during that time. My group had to purchase different newspapers and identify the politically biased reporting of the same event. These days, French daily newspapers sell far fewer print copies, many have shifted online, and some titles have disappeared altogether.

Another group got to compare pricing and quality of croissants from a handful of different bakeries. I feel like if I got to do this today, I would have to search way longer. Where have all the independent boulangeries gone? Also, you'll barely see people carrying huge baguettes on the street or in the Métro.

Most of the formerly charming mobile Crêperies have morphed into multi-purpose snack bars that also sell churros (speaking of old frying oil smells) and Thai curries. Or doner kebab.

Luckily, we did find one that was fairly original-looking. Never mind that they were "out of chocolate sauce." In the middle of the day. On Champs Elysées. Don't these people want to make money? So Nutella it was - for an extra Euro.

And speaking of tourists: I know everyone wants to capture the perfect picture, but the sheer amount of inconsiderate people everywhere was mind-blowing. Do we really need to climb onto historic structures, block entire walkways, and strike TikTok poses for ten minutes while hundreds of others wait? It’s as if respect for place, for people, for history has become optional.

On a positive note, staff at hotels and restaurants nowadays speak acceptable English, which is great for those who don't master the French language. That wasn't the case in the past, like 20 years ago.

Now, do their language skills also come with refined customer service? I say they don’t. “No” is still a popular and complete sentence for them.

“May I swap the French Fries for garden vegetables, please?” — No.
“They’re on the menu with a different dish, clearly it should be possible, I don’t mind paying extra?” — No.
“Could you please check with the kitchen?”

The waitress was pushing my buttons. 

She actually did ask, and since the kitchen was right behind the counter where we were sitting, I could hear every word. "Cette nana veut commander des légumes avec le saumon. Je lui ai dit non." (“This chick wants to order vegetables with the salmon. I told her no.”) The chef confirmed, so no was no.

If I had been there alone, I would have up and left immediately, but I was with my non-confrontational husband and a hungry teenager, so I just asked them to omit the fries. What I got instead was a few sad-looking, wilted lettuce leaves.

Also on a positive note, one iconic local institution survived: Café de la Paix. It's where Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre used to hang out, talk, and write; the last-century Parisian equivalent of Starbucks, if you will.

And in true existentialist fashion, Paris doesn’t try to please anyone; it just exists. It’s up to us, the visitors, to give it meaning. Mine, I suppose, lies somewhere between the Louis Vuitton building they converted into a suitcase and a wilted lettuce leaf.

What does your Paris mean to you, the city of light, love, or just long lines and lingering smells?