Paris doesn't care if you like it. That's the first thing you learn. The city has the quiet confidence of someone who knows they're beautiful and has stopped bothering about what others think. For a desi abroad, this energy is both intimidating and oddly familiar — it's the energy of every aunty who ever walked into a room and owned it.
October in Paris is when the city trades its summer crowds for golden light and a kind of melancholy that makes everything feel like a film. I was there for eight days, which is long enough to stop being a tourist and start being a person who just happens to be in Paris.
The Spice Hunt
Finding good chai in Paris is harder than you'd think. The French relationship with tea is polite but distant. But tucked into the 10th arrondissement, near Gare du Nord, the Indian grocers and Sri Lankan shops start appearing. I found my cardamom. I found my ginger. I made chai in a tiny Airbnb kitchen at 7am while Paris was still asleep.
Montmartre at Dusk
Everyone tells you to go to Montmartre. What they don't tell you is to go at dusk, when the tourists thin out and the accordion players switch from performing to actually playing for themselves. Sacré-Cœur glows pink in the fading light, and the steps below become the best free show in Europe.
The Food, Beyond the Clichés
Yes, the croissants are as good as everyone says. But the real Paris food story is in the markets — Marché d'Aligre on a Sunday morning, where North African spices sit next to French cheese, and the vendor selling tagine ingredients is right next to the oyster stand. Paris is far more diverse at the table than the guidebooks admit.
This is where your full story continues...