There's no Pepsi in Paris, only Coke. If you're daring enough to brave a dark alley full of lepers you might find a market that sells Pepsi Max, but why bother? Btw, ordering a coke in a restaurant will average you about $12 Cnd. They bring you out an 8 oz bottle and a glass of ice, and will actually open the bottle, pour some, and set it on the table for you. For that price I'm surprised they didn't let me sniff that cap first to make sure it's acceptable.
Parisians are either the worst drivers in the world, or the best. There are no such things as lanes; if you can fit a car in the space, it's good to go. Don't leave more than an inch on either side though, or someone will squeeze a motorcycle or a scooter in there. As soon as the light turns green they all accelerated whiplash quick, dodging and weaving back and forth for position until the next light, and slam on the brakes. Pen actually banged her head off of the headrest of the seat in front of her once after a particularly sudden stop. Stops are generally used to snake your vehicle into a better position for the next start. And even though everyone drives this way, I never saw a single accident for the seven days I was in Paris. None of the cars are dented or scratched either. As a matter of fact, they're pretty much immaculate, and even the cabs are more often than not BMWs and Mercedes.
The French walk like they drive, with a cellphone in one hand and a cigarette in the other. Apparently no one told them that smoking is bad for them, because they all do it, everywhere.