This always makes me laugh a lot.
People who think Paris for Valentines would be in anyway romantic. Clearly they’ve never been there.
Paris is supposed to be a city for lovers and in the springtime, if you manage to catch a nice day a walk along the banks of the Seine is very pretty, I’ll go that far.
But as one who has been to Paris many times, stayed there, driven round it, through it and and twice actually stayed there with the lover at the time, this dog’s pretty damn confident going all the way to Paris for a cold wet weekend in amongst Parisians (who mostly even the rest of France don’t much like) would be about as romantic as a weekend out on a trawler in the North Sea.
In between dodging approaches from dodgy customers on the streets, getting routinely pushed, shoved and dissed by the “oh-so-hospitable” Parisians and virtually (and once literally) robbed in every restaurant or bar you go in, then dodging the muggers again on the way home again, there’s not much time left for romance I promise.
The last time I was there we stayed at Pershing Hall which is lovely, if only we’d just stayed in the damn place and made our own romance the whole time and not had to endure the “Parisian romance” it would have been a whole lot more pleasant.
Paris in February? Romantic my arse.