I was told tales of the rude inhabitants the French people conveyed. I prepped myself for the tone I would receive. I learnt French to counteract that. In the time I had started saving, I took up French audio lessons. I was adamant to have a conversation in their native language. The language barrier was no more, this entailed being part of their society, instead of repelling it. I visited the Louvre. I was completely taken aback by the Parisians commentary on the glass pyramid structure in front. They were never impressed with the modern context of it. After a five minute chat with a Parisian art collector, I acknowledged their arrogance in the culture and switched off my intellect for Paris. Instead of belonging, I opposed everything. It made those intoxicating nights wittier, having a collection of opinions. Debating became my favourite act to meander while there. En route to the infamous tourist attraction, I was amazed to find out that the Eiffel Tower was made entirely out of scrap metal, from start to finish. Startled by the height at first, we made our way to the top, which closed as we arrived, due to the weather conditions. We settled on the middle view, and by George, it was magnificent. This city could never be mundane. It glows. It’s alive, and it was all mine for a month to fall in love.