I instantly fell in love with this city. Like I-want-to-go-back-this-minute-and-never-leave love. I don't know if it's the old-school Europe feel, the people lining the sidewalks sipping cafe on iron chairs, or if it's the on-the-water feel, the many veins of rivers winding through the heart of the city, or if it's just the many walks of life that buzz through the streets, a welcome change after London's young sleekness. Indeed, Paris is anything but sleek: the streets are dirty in some places and gaudy in others, with darkened statues on the tops of buildings, intersecting roads, and everywhere in between. All in all, the city has an element of realness that I've missed whilst in London. I've missed old ladies shuffling down the sidewalks half hunched over. I've missed graffitied subways that smell like an odd mixture of urine and death. And I've missed being stared at, laughed with, and all around consumed by a city, though this time it happened in French.