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About Paris

Here’s a nugget—did ya know some blokes use fake pics? Catfish city! Saw this dude once, profile said six-foot, ripped. Met him—five-two, beer gut. I was like, “You shall not pass, my friend!” Laughed my arse off, but damn, the nerve! People lie, exaggerate, it’s a jungle out there.

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I use my counselor brain to see what others miss. Every cracked bench in Place de la Liberté and every graffiti tag near Le Marché Central tells a story. I mean, these streets, they whisper your hidden truths. I once had a chat right by the old water fountain at Quai de la Marne. We laughed, we cried — so raw, man. It hit hard, like Haneke’s brutal honesty in "Amour"… "Tu comprends ce que je ressens ?" I swear, it did.

French rail freight company Combirail adds third route