Humour: Finding ‘farrago’ in Paris
And how to manage absurdly small trips to overwhelming cities without turning into an Insta-obsessed, currency-converting, overachieving holiday zombie.
In trying hard to avoid clichés, we run the risk of turning into clichés ourselves. Pardon the unusually philosophical mood. I’ve just made my first trip to Paris and existential questions waft over the city much like the smell of croissants from their boulangeries. What I mean by the cliché business is this whole tourist vs traveller debate. How to manage absurdly small trips to overwhelming cities without turning into an Insta-obsessed, currency-converting, overachieving holiday zombie? On the other side of this stereotype lies the global hipster, yawning at the Eiffel Tower and seeking unpronounceable underground delights that earn her credit in a coolness ledger that doesn’t exist. My petit trip to Paris found me swinging towards the former position. When even the obvious is extraordinary, why seek rarer bliss?
