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Whee whee

June 14, 2024

Around a week ago, our family came back from a trip from France and Switzerland! We’re just recovering from jet lag and legs gone noodle-ly. Both countries held strong impressions in our minds, but I’ll address France first.

France is a necessary place to visit. It has landmarks that aren’t anywhere else, and it has a lot of interesting people and situations. Maybe it’s because we didn’t have any knowledge of French beyond “bonjour,” or because we were obvious tourists–after all, one of us had a comically large backpack with two equally comically large water bottles on the side, another would record anything and everything, and I wore an oversized Ocean Conservatory raincoat that had a flappy pocket that was dangling by a thread.

Some parts of our trip were whee. Others… they do tell a story.

The Ticket Shop

Landmarks and Food

We got pickpocketed

The Ticket Shop

Our first barrier with not knowing the language was attempting to buy RER B train tickets from the ticket shop. Immediately, the line became a 30 minute wait, because everybody from the SFO flight was attempting to buy tickets to go elsewhere. When it came to our turn, we learned that to ride the metro, rather than a ticketbook that someone would check off, we would get a card that had the tickets loaded. But the guy didn’t really speak English, nor did we really speak French, so it took us a while to get everything we needed.

In general, we noticed that there often weren’t people behind the service desks. Locals would use the machines, so tourists did too–it was the only service available. When any confusion arose, there wasn’t someone nearby to ask other than the people in the line. For the service that was available, one guy would point to another guy, who would point to another guy, this guy being the only one who knows English, who would point you to a service desk that, upon arrival, was closed.

Beyond the ticket shop though, using public transportation was easy to learn, if you know where you want to go. In Paris, there were fourteen metros and multiple RER lines, which would unlock access to the entire city. It’s not terribly difficult to visit notable landmarks if you’re close to a metro line, because transfers are also loaded with signs.

Landmarks and Food

Gotta go basic with the favorites: the Eiffel Tower and Palace of Versailles. We were fortunately met with good weather on these days, and these landmarks can’t be found anywhere else. The Eiffel Tower was a great view, and so was the view while in the tower.


The Palace of Versailles was larger than we could’ve imagined. We took the entire day just to tour it. Not only was the inside massive, but there were endless fountains, gardens, and little structures to see. We did have trouble finding some of the places, like the Petit Trianon, but there were so many other places within The Place that gave us a general idea of the palace.

I would recommend going to the palace as early as possible, because it does get crowded. We booked the first slot and immediately headed to the Hall of Mirrors before the people flocked there. Later on, it was impossible to get photos of the place without blocking someone. The exterior of the palace is large enough anyway, so it can wait.

One of the fountains, Neptune Fountain, was renowned for its scheduled program at the end of the day. We missed its smaller shows multiple times, but the grand show was pretty funny in comparison. While the smaller shows were programmed, the large show was just all the fountains turned on with maximum pressure, supplemented with loud music. It is something to experience, just was overhyped.

We weren’t super lucky with the weather this time around, and a lot of places had construction around because of the Paris 2024 Olympics. I will warn that while the public transportation is decent, walking isn’t very accessible and isn’t the most tourist-friendly. We got confused about where to go multiple times, because the signs only had French. To be fair, that isn’t their fault, but accessibility is definitely a problem. Most of the metro stations only had stairs, so if you’re like my dad, who has gout, it’s not going to be a fun time.

I did mention that the public transportation was decent, but note that the trains get delayed somewhat frequently (we might’ve just been unlucky with this). One time, the train to Cannes la bocca arrived, but we sat in it for two hours before it moved. There were, supposedly, announcements, but they were in French. Some people even started leaving the train.

As for Cannes La Bocca, there were legitimately no helpful signs, nor was there a service desk. The trains also did not come very frequently, and it was getting dark. Cannes La Bocca is a somewhat quieter place, so we decided to take a 40 minute walk to Cannes so that we could at least get help if we needed it.

Despite the challenges, we still had fun sometimes! The food was amazing, although I will say that there aren’t a lot of vegetarian/vegan options unless you’re willing to eat like a rabbit. There was also a lot of Asian food. We probably had more Asian food than French food.

We got pickpocketed

On the RER B line from the Charles de Gaulle Airport back to Paris, I already got a bad omen. We would be spending approximately the next hour and a half to visit the Eiffel Tower a second time, this time at night. One of my dreams was to see the Eiffel Tower glitter, because we probably wouldn’t be going back to Paris ever again. There were so many other places to go. But we would likely miss the tower glitter anyhow, because it only shimmered every hour, and we weren’t making it by 10pm. And we certainly weren’t staying to 11pm, because the last RER B ride back to the airport was at 11:30.

And then we had a transfer.

Metro line 6.

Denfert Rochereau station.

We missed a ride by thirty seconds, but it didn’t matter. Another one would come in two minutes.

The station was eerily quiet after two minutes, especially for one that connected to Trocadéro, which had a full view of the tower. As we got onto the cart, suddenly, a flood of girls, all looking the same–sleek brown hair, brushed neatly into a ponytail or a bun, well-dressed and pretty–gushed into the same entrance. They screamed, “Don’t push, don’t push,” but they separated our family. The tram doors clicked. They were about to close, but we made it in time.

We made it in time! But oh, that was just the start. The cart was incredibly crowded, and the girls wouldn’t budge. Surely, there wasn’t more space in the cart? I wonder if I could inch that way–

“Why are you touching me? You reached into–” I look up. Who..?

“YOU ARE GOING TO BE ARRESTED.”

It’s my dad. He’s normally quiet, either on WeChat, tending the lawn and flowers outside, or rambling about Chinese politics at the dinner table. Now, his eyes are bugged out, locked in, towering over one of the girls, screaming.

“What’s going on?”

“Your husband is crazy!”

“Stop it, stop!”

“You’re going to get into a lot of trouble!”

“He’s being a pedophile!”

“STOP!”

At the next station, they get off. My dad still glares. My mom and I stare at him, begging for answers. For a moment, I see a stranger in my dad's skin.

“Did you see that?” His eyes dart around the cart, meeting silent stares. “She reached her hand down my jacket! They were trying to steal from me!”

And then it clicks. This entire thing was planned. First, they separated the family. Then, they squeeze us in, but what they’re doing is feeling for bulges in bags or hidden pockets. And then, they cause commotion. The audacity to call my dad a pedophile, after they’re the ones who violate his personal space.

My natural response? I burst into tears, but it’s useless. If there’s another group, they’d only target us. Sabotage the weakest link.

The Eiffel Tower shone that night, but all that glitters is not gold.

And honestly, I’m surprised this didn’t happen earlier. It was our last day in Paris. Pickpocket stories are fairly common. Before the trip, my dad watched endless videos about pickpockets and told us about them. We believed him, but we never thought that it would happen to us. Surely, those videos were clickbait? How common is a pickpocket, really? There were police watching in Paris, right?

We were just… lucky in so many ways, looking back. First, they didn’t steal any of our belongings. Both my parent’s backpacks were unzipped afterwards. Second, they didn’t steal from me, and arguably, I was the easiest to steal from. I was wearing pants with shallow pockets, and my phone could’ve easily been snatched. And third, this happened on the last day. If it had happened earlier, we would’ve been paranoid the entire trip, but now, we get a look on both sides–the beauty and beast within.

We suspect that we were the target of another pickpocketing incident on the same day. Earlier that day, we were boarding another metro. My dad, on the other side, was about to get on, but a lady suddenly shouts and runs out of the cart, pushing him aside as the doors were closing. He got clipped on the door–body in, backpack out. But a kind man helped us out, shoved the doors open by just a crack, enough for my dad to squeeze in. These doors are no joke–they’re preprogrammed, so they’re impossible to open after they close. That camera, and possibly him, would’ve been gone had he not gotten himself in completely.

This story isn’t meant to scare, but it’s merely a warning. Paris, like any other major tourist area, is over glorified. It’s pretty in pictures, but with good things also come bad things. These are all necessary things to see.

I’ll sortie on out now. Onwards, to more good times!

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