May 10, 2013

Paris. December, 2005

I love the Paris metro. I remember taking it the first time in 1969 where there were sections for both first and second class. (Are there still?) And I remember the entrance doors to the station platforms that would close automatically as the train was approaching, preventing latecomers from running to catch it. Mostly, I think I like the names of the stations. Look at this one, a station where I was waiting to catch a connecting train. Where else would a station’s name be a combination of a manufacturer of fine china and a lost, decadent civilization? (Though my favorite metro station name is still in Milan: Gorgonzola.)

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