"The secret to getting a polite answer from the French is to ALWAYS open in French.", I said: "You will also need to apologize profusely for not speaking the language of Voltaire. Then and only then will they grace you with an answer."
"Aham."; said The Husband: "Any other tips?"
"ALWAYS compliment a dog."
"A dog? What if there's no dog?"
"There's always a small dog. This is the French we are talking about."; I concluded whilst avoiding stepping in dog poo on the pavement.
We continued on towards Notre Dame and that wretched "love locks" bridge "Pont de l'Archevêché".
We sat on one of the benches and observed the lovestruck tourists frantically looking for a free space to hang their love lock (there is no space) and then throwing the key into the Seine river believing their love to somehow become eternal after that act.
"Did you know that the city of Paris removes the locks every so often as the bridge wire cannot take their weight and it splits?"
"So the locks are not eternal after all?"
"No, not at all."
"In that case, I give them three months.", said The Husband and pointed at the soppy couple that just "locked" their love onto the bridge.