The French Do "Small" Smaller Than Most

I just HAVE to share this essay with y'all!! It would be absolutely hilarious... except for the fact that is not in the least exaggerated. I can vouch for it. (All the same, I admit to having laughed at loud while reading it. :)) Taken from BootsnAll Travel, this is absolutely worth the read!!!

Housing Plight in City of Light
Paris, France

The computer screen taunts me with photos of charming Parisian apartments with minuscule dimensions. My two-year-old is dancing to Hi-5, having given up on the promised trip to the park. Finding a flat for our six-week stay in the French capital has become my latest obsession.

Our requirements consist of a two-bedroom apartment easily accessible to the Latin Quarter, where I will be studying in July. My research has been enlightening as I learn not to take anything for granted, not even walls.

My findings are baffling: traditional two-bedroom apartments apparently are rare in Paris. Some bedrooms are partitioned off with screens, curtains and "vertically exposed beams." In some apartments, the number of beds doesn't equate to the number of people supposedly sleeping there. How French.

Sometimes, the second bedroom is on a mezzanine floor, which is often not full height. Some lofts are only as wide as the bed and others don't have railings; I guess that's not a problem as long as you don't roll out of bed. Although, when you are putting on your jeans while crouching, you could lose your balance and topple over the edge into the living room. Often the beds are hidden away in cupboards, a system known as a Murphy bed.

I have images of the bed lurching up in the middle of the night and its occupant disappearing until the cleaner appears (hopefully to change the sheets). Meanwhile, the flatmate lies unconscious on the dining-room table. I guess that's what travel insurance is for. It's lucky, then, that in many cases the bedrooms have the proportions of a coffin, preparing you for the inevitable.

Behind the elegant façades of 19th-century buildings, many of these apartments are walk-ups. Some advertise lifts but are honest enough to admit they don't go up to all floors of the apartment building; assuming the lift works, of course. I wonder how quaint the winding staircase seems when you're lugging your belongings up to your bohemian apartment with Eiffel Tower-top views?

After such an ordeal you could cool off in the shower, which probably is in the bedroom. Then wash your clothes while sitting on the toilet in the kitchen. How's that for convenience? As you put your feet up at the end of the day, you can gaze into the mirrored walls and imagine there really is another room that looks exactly the same as the one you're in.

Just when I think the French have thrown all the rules out the former window, it happens. I find an available apartment in the Latin Quarter, complete with worn parquetry flooring and large windows filling the rooms with light. Now I just need to convince the agency to rent it to me.

Fearing that handing over exorbitant amounts of money isn't enough, I send super-polite emails that are replied to with curt responses. "Oui, madame, the bathroom does contain a bath, as the name suggests." Finally, I am triumphant as an obscene amount of money is charged to my credit card. At last, I can dream of my fling with the City of Light. Lights? Hang on, I didn't ask, but surely...

It's true! It's true!! I am currently living in a SPACIOUS studio apartment in Paris... it's 14 square meters. No, I'm not being facetious - that's spacious for Paris. The average studio apartment here is an incredible SEVEN meters square!! Nonetheless, I had to laugh when I read the above essay because the people I work for live on the sixth floor of an apartment building... the elevator stops at the fifth floor and you climb the spiral stairs to the sixth. I have no clue why, but it's simply accepted here. (Not to mention that the elevators have the same sizing problem the apartments they take you to have... you can fit two adults and a child into the elevator. Forget anything besides that. If it's a REALLY big load you're taking down - for example, a suitcase ;) - you'd better have one person go down first, then send the suitcase down by itself - to be picked up by the awaiting person - and then go down yourself. Or take the six flights of stairs.)

Oh, and the lights! They make up for all their outdoor lights by not having them indoors... makes perfect sense to me. (Not.) My apartment has a bathroom light. Period. I begin to think that I was fortunate to get even that! The place isn't even wired for an overhead bedroom light and I imagine that if one were to mention the desirability of such a feature, the Parisian construction crew wouldn't understand WHY such a thing would be desirable. ;)

And the comment about lugging your baggage up the winding staircase is too close to home to be funny... I'll laugh about it one day, I'm sure, but lugging my worldly possessions up four flights of very narrow spiral stairs was no picnic! Wow! ...my blister is almost gone...

Here is a bit of photographic evidence. :) And for those of you Americans reading this, just remember that "spacious skies" aren't the only things that are spacious in America the Beautiful! ;)

Picture a little kitchenette to the left and a SMALL bathroom to the right and there you have the whole apartment! (Note my "closet" on the wall above my bed and the lamp for lack of an overhead light. :))
This is the view from in the bathroom... my kitchen (albeit without counter space to speak of, with only two burners, and no oven of any kind), my dining room, and my office all wrapped into one! :D
And those picturesque, but not so fun, spiral stairs! :)

Thank you for touring my home! Come again anytime... you can't say I didn't warn you! :)