Ladies and gentlemen, after a day searching the Louvre Carousel, I can now tell you that this it a lie. If truly free wifi exists in Paris, I've yet to find it and in such a place as this, rife with cafes and shops and a popular tourist attraction lacks it, then where on earth are we expected to find it?
I started my mission from the apartment early this morning. Computed packed with the cord and adapter just in case battery power ran low. Complicated metro stops later I was beneath the Louvre in the underground shopping center/miniature Paris with its many restaurants, cafes, boutiques and gift shops. Starbucks was my first choice and the sign in the window advertising free wifi seemed promising so I bought breakfast and a coffee to get me started. The barista handed me a card with a username and password in order to fetch the wifi. Three cards later, my computer and the wifi network were still having none of each other. So instead I sat with the paperback I thought to bring ahead while I finished my muffin and coffee.
A comfy padded bench in the middle of an underground sort of museum looked like a fantastic place to situate myself two hours later after I'd given up on my old standby for good. A plethora of free networks presented themselves to me and none required a password. Overjoyed, I tried connecting to the first only to be taken to a page that declared it would need my credit card number. Not happening. So I flipped to the next one which took me to another page that cheerfully stated in bright bold lettering that I needed to put in a username and password that could be purchased from a nearby restaurant. Great.
Five attempts at connecting and countless more tries at hacking into a network later, I gave up until a familiar glowing yellow sign caught my eye.
McDonalds. It was one o'clock, I'd been traversing the Louvre Carousel searching for wifi for a long time and the muffin of the morning seemed so far away. I'd sworn to myself I wouldn't stoop to eating in McDonalds while I was surrounded by so many fantastic little cafes, but I'm an American at heart and by this time was desperate. So I mounted the escalator and the first thing I saw was the little card standing by the cash register: wifi gratuit. Free wifi.
A chicken wrap is sitting comfortably in my stomach as I sit in one of the incredibly more stylish than the American version seats, connected to free wifi as I write this. And all I had to do was enter my name and email. And for the record, French McDonalds tastes better than the American version.
