Paris Sydrome

Have you ever suffered heart breaking disappointment dear reader?

Chances are if you have a right clicking finger you've no doubt been disappointed by the internet when an advert pops up promising a one week buff up program and delivers a hard-drive full of viruses and a weird tick on your web browser that turns every Google search into a porn site. However, have you ever heard of a small minority of people being disappointed to the point disillusion, fainting and being sent home? Chances are no you haven't unless your Japanese.

'Paris Syndrome' is what they call it and if you're a 30 year old female and live in a bubble of bliss that the French aren't arrogant pricks then you are a prime candidate. It's not to say that Paris is any worse than any other European city it's just that it's a city, and like all cities it has it's share of rude waiters, drunks, homeless and the French. Of course, if you've grown up sheltered and miles away from European turmoil, then you'll excused for thinking it the pinnacle of high society; polite and sophisticated. Of course when your first site as you rise up the escalator of de l'Étoile Subway is a vagrant pissing against the corner of the Arc de Trimophe or a poor excuse for a ladyboy in Montmarte (where French blockbuster Amelie's set) then chances are that Eiffel tower of expectation is going to flake and crumble like a cheap, Tesco croissant.

Don't get me wrong, Paris is as charming as a city can be with it's beautiful architecture towering over you in creamy, chalky colour as you wonder down each 'Rue' looking at famous landmarks like Notre Dame or climb the stairs in front of the gorgeous Sacré-Cœur Basilica. Even on wet days the Champs-Elsées shines like wet marble as if a lowly paid immigrant has gone before you with a buffer polishing the streets for an eye watering gleam to walk on. It's an amazing sight and something that tourists would return home with fond memories of. It's just it's a city, and like all cities you can turn the corner to find a the pavement covered in dog shit and a couple of street artists coming to blows over a spot if front of a tacky coffee shop and it's that down to earth side of Paris that sends twelve Japanese tourists home a year.

I remember when a friend took me to Paris the first site I saw on Thursday night as I arrived was a man passed out in a puddle of his vomit next to a bus stop. Made me feel right at home having just come fresh from Aberdeen, was a nice little reminder that the French can be just as twat-ish as the UK, no matter how much they argue to the contrary.

P.S. I don't hate the French, it's just funny to do so – the rest of Europe will agree with me on that (except France of course)