Despite growing up in the Canadian climate with long, cold winters, I must admit that although I have had ample opportunity, I never became much of a skier. However, living here in Paris over the past 8 years, I have developed superlative slalom skills from navigating through the Parisian sidewalk poop that could rival downhill, world, Olympic champions.
Although I have noticed that the situation has much improved during the decades of my visits to Paris, before moving here, it is still an issue.
Don’t Look Up
Paris is one of the most beautiful cities in the world and it is one of the reasons I wanted to relocate here. However, I missed a fair percentage of its’ beauty during my first few years here because I was so busy looking down so as to navigate the minefield of little deposits that our canine friends have left behind.
No Shame
Back in Canada, it’s not acceptable to continue on after your dog has defecated in a public space without taking out your little baggy, picking it up and depositing it in the nearest receptacle. If you are out on a trail or the woods without a trash can nearby, it is perfectly normal to see someone walking along with a little bag of the little turdy treasure inside until they arrive at a convenient place to dispose of the dirty deed.
If a Canadian dares not to pick up after their pooch, you will be publicly shamed and not just with dirty looks. Despite Canadians’ easy-going nature, the poop issue is not something we as a nation accept, and someone will be sure to call you out about your inappropriate behaviour. Canadian dog owners are actually embarrassed if they don’t do the pickup. If they have, heaven forbid, run out of their supply of baggies, for example, they seek out the closest available option to obtain a bag and come hell or high water, they’ll then to return to the site to remove the dastardly deed.
In Paris, however, this is not the case. I’m not sure why. Maybe it is more demeaning to bend down and pick it up rather than have your neighbours track through the stuff and spread the mess out even more so everyone can join in and make it a poop festival.
The Warning Cry
After living in Paris for several years now, I find that I have developed a sixth sense, or a poop radar, it may seem. I can now say with pride that I innately know, without looking down when and where those offensive little nuggets lie directly in the path of my footfall and I am somehow able to seamlessly change the gait of my steps to avoid it without even the slightest glance downward.
When conducting my Flavors of Paris food tours I become a bit of a “mother hen” with my clients. I feel a sense of “doody” to make their visit as pleasant as possible when they are with me, hence, I do everything in my power to make sure they avoid any unpleasant situations, including stepping in these little brown droppings.
Every now and then when I am leading a tour and I spot something on the sidewalk I issue my warning cry of “Poopoo alert!”, which has proved to be quite effective thus far. Even if after indulging in a nice glass of burgundy during the tour with my clients, I can proudly say that my radar remains remarkably well-honed as we continue onto the next destination.
Knowing the Hot Spots
Usually, the definition of “hot spots” in a city, means the best night clubs, or hang out spots. Yes, this is one of the definitions, but also included in my lexicon is the knowledge of the dirtiest sidewalk areas. Running the tours for Flavors of Paris means that I get around the city more than the average Parisian so I know where you have to do some particularly fancy footwork to avoid taking home more on your shoes than you would care to admit.
I mentioned to one of my clients one day, that I knew all the “crappy hot spots”, and she recommended that I create an app for it. I prefer to focus on the finer things in Paris so if anyone out there wants to take up the challenge you have my blessing and I hope you make it a great success.
NOTE: For help writing this article, I looked up this website and found 774 synonyms listed for s**t. Who would have known?
