I'm not even on the World Trek anymore. I'm somewhere underneath all of the gorgeous buildings and famous landmarks that make Paris such a great city . In contrast to the aroma of freshly baked croissants above, the air in the metro is much less pleasant.
Smells range from strong detergents to urine and body odor.
Over-crowded trains cause folks to push and shove and the stress of Parisian life can be felt, mixed in among the sweat and attitudes of some of the people. For example, the last time I spoke French, I was traveling through West African nations like Burkina Faso and Mali . Spanish and English can often be heard because of the many people around the globe that have grown up with these two international languages. The lively music of the Andes echoing throughout these tunnels is that of a Peruvian band , playing all day long. The many hungry people, laying on the ground or sitting with a cupped hand extended, remind me of poor Palestinian mothers I often pass on the streets of Tel Aviv, and others just like them around the world.