I’ve always said it: Paris is my absolute favourite city outside Italy. Having only just returned from a weekend in the French capital, I realised this was already the fifth time I was there. Three wonderful winter days in Paris during which the sun never left our side. By now, I have experienced the city in all four seasons, and I can only conclude one thing: every season is equally beautiful in Paris.
“When you get back, we want a detailed story about Paris and your opinion. Better Rome or Paris?”
Of course, I shared some highlights on Instagram. This quickly led to a reaction from an Italian to one of my photos: “When you get back, we want a detailed story about Paris and your opinion. Better Rome or Paris?” However, that’s a question I can’t possibly answer, and that’s exactly why I always say that Paris is my favourite city as long as we leave Italian cities out of the comparison. The rivalry between the two countries – something that is felt even stronger between the two capitals – is well known, as they excel in many of the same things. The world’s best fashion houses, their cuisine, wine, music, architecture, romance and art. It’s an eternal battle that will never objectively lead to a winner because it entirely comes down to personal preference. Do you go for a merlot or a barolo? Do you like the classic, timeless design of Dior or the more outspoken and trendy Gucci? Do you prefer to have lunch with a croque-monsieur or a pizza? And does your heart beat faster for the Notre Dame or St Peter’s?
Perhaps the most famous Frenchman of all time, Napoleon Bonaporte, was actually called Buonaparte
Despite the supposed rivalry, the two neighbouring countries that share a border of no less than 515 kilometres have had a great deal of influence on each other. With so much shared history and similarities in culture, perhaps it isn’t that surprising that I feel so at home in Paris. Today, 340 thousand Italians live in France and more than five million French people (out of a total of 67.3 million) have Italian roots that can often be traced back a few generations. At the beginning of the 20th century, there was a migration wave from Italy to France. In 1911, no less than 36% of all immigrants inFrance were Italian. Perhaps the most famous Frenchman of all time, Napoleon Bonaporte, was actually called Buonaparte. The origins of The House of Bonaparte, the former imperial European dynasty founded by Napoleon himself, can be traced back to San Miniato that’s situated in what is now the Italian region of Tuscany. France has also known two Italian queens, Caterina de Medici and Maria de Medici. Many of the most famous sights in Paris are heavily influenced by Italian architecture and Roman buildings such as the Arc de Triomphe, the Pantheon (not to be confused with the Pantheon in Rome), the Palais du Luxembourg, the Jardin du Luxembourg and of course the Palace of Versailles.
I’ve noticed that it’s all those things that make Paris so different from Rome that make me love the city so much
But still. I’ve noticed that it’s all those things that make Paris so different from Rome that make me love the city so much. I love Paris for its little round tables with their beautiful golden rims, for its population that is a melting pot of cultures, for its language that has so many mute letters, for its caution that should not be confused with not being interested, for its gracious and perfectly straight avenues, for its nonchalance, for how clean the buildings are, for its French balconies, for the enthusiasm of the Parisians at the sight of a clear blue sky, for the frequent use of the most delicious butter, for its heaters and blankets at outside bars, for its crunchy croissants, for its cafés where it’s so dark that you can hardly see anything, for the feminism of the French women, and for the way the Parisians easily ride their bikes through the busyParisian traffic.
Was everything that perfect in the French capital?
In the company of two of my best friends who I have known for almost twenty years, the weekend was more than amazing. When my dear friend Lucas, a Parisian born and bred, joined us and got on great with the girls, my trip was complete. So after reading this story, you would think that Paris would be my only right answer to that one question: Rome or Paris? Right? But was everything that perfect in the French capital?
That’s all my Italian readers need to know to be able to conclude with great satisfaction that this everlasting battle has once again been decided in favour of Rome
Not completely. In terms of culinary delights, this weekend wasn’t just highlights. There are a few things the Parisians should just leave to the Italians. Over the weekend, I had three cappuccinos and on Saturday, I ordered a pasta carbonara in a restaurant that profiled itself as being authentically Italian. Only one of the three cappuccinos came close to what a cappuccino should be, and the pasta carbonara was – and now my Italian way of exaggerating comes out – light years away from what a carbonara really is. I paid an average of six euros for the cappuccinos, and twenty for the pasta carbonara. I’m guessing that’s all my Italian readers need to know to be able to conclude with great satisfaction that this everlasting battle has once again been decided in favour of Rome, where six euros for a cappuccino is simply considered criminal. And me? I stay away from making any bold statements and instead tell the Italians that “non c’è paragone!”,there is no comparison. And while I am already looking forward to going back to Rome soon, I’ve also decided that I’m going to make weekend escapes to Paris as often as I can.