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Paris – Read Now and Download Mobi

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Cómo sentir la joie de vivre parisina, de lo alto del Sacré Coeur a ras de la ribera, junto a las suaves ondulaciones del Sena. Ver pasar la vida desde la terraza de un café, ataviarse a la última o escaparse a la conquista de algún castillo – gracias a s

Author
Lonely Planet Publications, Steve Fallon

Rights
Copyright © Lonely Planet Publications Pty Ltd 2010

Language
es

Published
1998-01-02

ISBN
9788408056140

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THE AUTHORS



Steve Fallon

Steve, who has worked on every edition of Paris and France except the first, visited the ‘City of Light’ for the first time at age 16 with his half-French best friend, where they spent a week drinking vin ordinaire from plastic bottles, keeping several paces ahead of irate café waiters demanding to be paid, and learning French swear words that shocked even them. Despite this inexcusable behaviour, the PAF (border police) let him back in five years later to complete a degree in French at the Sorbonne. Now based in East London, Steve will be just one Underground stop away from Paris when Eurostar trains begin departing from Stratford in 2010. C’est si bon… Steve was the coordinating author and wrote the Introducing Paris, Getting Started, Background, Sleeping, Gay & Lesbian Paris and Directory chapters. He also cowrote the Neighbourhoods, Shopping, Eating, Drinking and Nightlife & the Arts chapters.

Nicola Williams

For Nicola, a British journalist living and working in France for the past 12 years (home is a hillside house with Lake Geneva view in Haute Savoie), it is an easy flit to Paris where she has spent endless amounts of time eating her way around and revelling in the city’s extraordinary art and architecture. When she’s not working for Lonely Planet, she can be found in the Alps skiing or hiking, strolling around Florence or having fun with family in Britain and Germany. Nicola has worked on numerous other Lonely Planet titles including France, Provence & the Côte d’Azur and The Loire. Nicola wrote the Sports & Activities, Excursions and Transport chapters. She also cowrote the Neighbourhoods, Shopping, Eating, Drinking and Nightlife & the Arts chapters.

PHOTOGRAPHER

Will Salter

In the last 12 years, Will has worked on assignment in over 50 countries in Africa, Asia, Europe, and the Pacific region as well as Antarctica. He has produced a body of award-winning work that includes evocative images of travel, portraits and sport. He sees photography as a privilege, a rare opportunity to become intimately involved in people’s lives. Will is based in Melbourne, Australia, with his wife and two children. His website is www.willsalter.com.


LONELY PLANET AUTHORS
Why is our travel information the best in the world? It’s simple: our authors are passionate, dedicated travellers. They don’t take freebies in exchange for positive coverage so you can be sure the advice you’re given is impartial. They travel widely to all the popular spots, and off the beaten track. They don’t research using just the internet or phone. They discover new places not included in any other guidebook. They personally visit thousands of hotels, restaurants, palaces, trails, galleries, temples and more. They speak with dozens of locals every day to make sure you get the kind of insider knowledge only a local could tell you. They take pride in getting all the details right, and in telling it how it is. Think you can do it? Find out how at lonelyplanet.com.


Return to beginning of chapter

GETTING STARTED


WHEN TO GO
    FESTIVALS & EVENTS
COSTS & MONEY
INTERNET RESOURCES
    BLOGS


Paris is a dream destination for countless reasons, but among the most obvious is that it requires so very little advance planning. Tourist literature abounds, maps are excellent and readily available, and the staff at tourist offices are usually helpful and efficient. Paris is so well developed and organised that you don’t have to plan much of anything before your trip.

But this is fine only if your budget is unlimited, you don’t have an interest in any particular period of architecture or type of music, and you’ll eat or drink anything put down in front of you. This is Paris, one of the most visited cities of the world, and everyone wants a piece of the action. First and foremost, book your accommodation well ahead. And if you have specific interests – live big-name jazz, blockbuster art exhibitions, top-end restaurants – you’ll certainly want to make sure that the things you expect to see and do will be available or open to you when you arrive. The key here is advance planning (Click here).

WHEN TO GO

As the old song says, Paris is lovely in springtime – though winterlike relapses and heavy rains are not uncommon in the otherwise beautiful month of April. The best months are probably May and June – but early, before the hordes of tourists descend. Autumn is also pleasant – some people say the best months of the year to visit are September and October – but of course the days are getting shorter and in October hotels are booked solid by businesspeople attending conferences and trade shows. In winter Paris has all sorts of cultural events going on, while in summer the weather is warm – sometimes sizzling. In any case, in August Parisians flee for the beaches to the west and south, and many restaurateurs and café owners lock up and leave town too. It’s true that you will find more places open in August than even a decade ago, but it still can feel like a ghost town in certain districts. For more information on Paris’ climate, Click here.

To ensure that your trip does (or perhaps does not) coincide with a public holiday, Click here. For a list of festivals and other events to plan around, see below.


DON’T LEAVE HOME WITHOUT…
 
  • an adaptor plug for electrical appliances
  • binoculars for viewing detail on churches and other buildings
  • an immersion water heater or small kettle for an impromptu cup of tea or coffee
  • tea bags if you need that cuppa since the French drink buckets of the herbal variety but not much of the black stuff
  • premoistened towelettes or a large cotton handkerchief to soak in fountains and use to cool off in the hot weather
  • sunglasses and sun block, even in the cooler months
  • swimsuit and thongs (flip-flops) for Paris Plages or swimming pool
  • a Swiss Army knife, with such essentials as a bottle opener and strong corkscrew

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FESTIVALS & EVENTS

Innumerable festivals, cultural and sporting events and trade shows take place in Paris throughout the year; weekly details appear in Pariscope and L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here. You can also find them listed under ‘What’s On’ on the website of the Paris Convention & Visitors Bureau (www.parisinfo.com). The following abbreviated list gives you a taste of what to expect throughout the year.

January & February

FESTIVAL DES MUSIQUES DU NOVEL AN

www.parisparade.com

The New Year Music Festival, relatively subdued after the previous night’s shenanigans Click here with marching and carnival bands, dance acts and so on, takes place on the afternoon of New Year’s Day at the Palais de Chaillot at Trocadéro.

LOUIS XVI COMMEMORATIVE MASS

www.monuments-nationaux.fr

On the Sunday closest to 21 January, royalists and right-wingers attend a mass at the Chapelle Expiatoire (Click here marking the execution by guillotine of King Louis XVI in 1793.

FASHION WEEK

www.pretparis.com

Prêt-à-Porter, the ready-to-wear fashion salon that is held twice a year in late January and again in September, is a must for fashion buffs and is held at the Parc des Expositions at Porte de Versailles in the 15e arrondissement (metro Porte de Versailles), southwest of the city centre.

CHINESE NEW YEAR

www.paris.fr

Dragon parades and other festivities are held in late January or early February in two Chinatowns: the smaller, more authentic one in the 3e, taking in rue du Temple, rue au Maire and rue de Turbigo (metro Temple or Arts et Métiers); and the larger, flashier one in the 13e in between porte de Choisy, porte d’Ivry and blvd Masséna (metro Porte de Choisy, Port d’Ivry or Tolbiac).

SALON INTERNATIONAL DE L’AGRICULTURE

www.salon-agriculture.com

A 10-day international agricultural fair with produce and animals turned into dishes from all over France, held at the Parc des Expositions at Porte de Versailles in the 15e (metro Porte de Versailles) from late February to early March.

March–May

BANLIEUES BLEUES

www.banlieuesbleues.org, in French

The ‘Suburban Blues’ jazz and blues festival is held over five weeks in March and April in the northern suburbs of Paris, including St-Denis, and attracts some big-name talent.

PRINTEMPS DU CINÉMA

www.printempsducinema.com, in French

Cinemas across Paris offer filmgoers a unique entry fee of €3.50 over three days (usually Sunday, Monday and Tuesday) sometime around 21 March.

FOIRE DU TRÔNE

www.foiredutrone.com, in French

This huge funfair, with 350 attractions spread over 10 hectares, is held on the pelouse de Reuilly of the Bois de Vincennes (metro Porte Dorée) for eight weeks from late March to mid-May.

MARATHON INTERNATIONAL DE PARIS

www.parismarathon.com

The Paris International Marathon, usually held on the first Sunday of early April, starts on the av des Champs-Élysées, 8e, and finishes on av Foch, in the 16e. The Semi-Marathon de Paris is a half-marathon held in early March; see the website for map and registration details.

FOIRE DE PARIS

www.foiredeparis.fr

This huge modern-living fair, including crafts, gadgets and widgets, and food and wine, is held from late April to early May at the Parc des Expositions at Porte de Versailles in the 15e (metro Porte de Versailles).

ATELIERS D’ARTISTES DE BELLEVILLE: LES PORTES OUVERTES

www.ateliers-artistes-belleville.org, in French

More than 200 painters, sculptors and other artists in Belleville (metro Belleville) in the 10e open their studio doors to visitors over four days (Friday to Monday) in mid-May in an event that has now been going for two decades.

LA NUIT DES MUSÉES

www.nuitdesmusees.culture.fr, in French

Key museums across Paris throw open their doors at 6pm for one Saturday night in mid-May on ‘Museums Night’ and don’t close till late. Some also organise special events.

FRENCH TENNIS OPEN

www.rolandgarros.com

The glitzy Internationaux de France de Tennis – the Grand Slam – takes place from late May to mid-June at Stade Roland Garros (metro Porte d’Auteuil) at the southern edge of the Bois de Boulogne in the 16e.

June–August

FOIRE ST-GERMAIN

www.foiresaintgermain.org, in French

This month-long festival of concerts and theatre from early June to early July takes place on the place St-Sulpice, 6e (metro St-Sulpice) and various other venues (see website) in the quartier St-Germain.

FÊTE DE LA MUSIQUE

www.fetedelamusique.fr, in French

This national music festival welcomes in summer on Midsummer’s Night (21 June) and caters to a great diversity of tastes (including jazz, reggae and classical) and features staged and impromptu live performances all over the city.

GAY PRIDE MARCH

www.gaypride.fr, in French

This colourful Saturday-afternoon parade in very late June through the Marais to Bastille celebrates Gay Pride Day, with various bars and clubs sponsoring floats, and participants in some pretty outrageous costumes.

PARIS JAZZ FESTIVAL

www.parcfloraldeparis.com; www.paris.fr

There are free jazz concerts every Saturday and Sunday afternoon in June and July in the Parc Floral de Paris (metro Château de Vincennes).

LA GOUTTE D’OR EN FÊTE

www.gouttedorenfete.org, in French

This week-long world-music festival (featuring rai, reggae and rap) is held at square Léon, 18e (metro Barbès Rochechouart or Château Rouge) from late June to early July.

PARIS CINÉMA

www.pariscinema.org

This two-week festival in the first half of July sees rare and restored films screened in selected cinemas across Paris.

BASTILLE DAY (14 JULY)

www.paris.fr

Paris is the place to be on France’s national day. Late on the night of the 13th, bals des sapeurs-pompiers (dances sponsored by Paris’ firefighters, who are considered sex symbols in France) are held at fire stations around the city. At 10am on the 14th, there’s a military and fire-brigade parade along av des Champs-Élysées, accompanied by a fly-past of fighter aircraft and helicopters. In the evening, a huge display of feux d’artifice (fireworks) is held at around 11pm on the Champ de Mars, 7e.

PARIS PLAGES

www.paris.fr

Initiated in 2002, ‘Paris Beaches’ is one of the most inspired and successful city recreational events in the world. Across four weeks, from mid-July to mid-August, three waterfront areas are transformed into sand and pebble ‘beaches’, complete with sun beds, beach umbrellas, atomisers, lounge chairs and palm trees. They make up the 3km-long stretch along the Right Bank embankment from the quai Henri IV at the Pont de Sully (metro Sully Morland) in the 4e to the quai des Tuileries (metro Tuileries) below the Louvre in the 1er; a 1km-long ‘beach’ below the Bibliothèque Nationale de France and across from the Parc de Bercy in the 13e on the Left Bank; and the area around the Bassin de la Villette in the 19e (metro Jaurès). The beaches are open from 8am to midnight daily.

TOUR DE FRANCE

www.letour.fr

The last of 21 stages of this prestigious, 3500km-long cycling event finishes with a race up av des Champs-Élysées on the third or fourth Sunday of July, as it has done since 1975.

September & October

JAZZ À LA VILLETTE

www.villette.com, in French

This super 10-day jazz festival in early September has sessions in Parc de la Villette, at the Cité de la Musique and in surrounding bars.

FESTIVAL D’AUTOMNE

www.festival-automne.com

The Autumn Festival of arts has painting, music, dance and theatre at venues throughout the city from mid-September to mid-December.

EUROPEAN HERITAGE DAYS

www.journeesdupatrimoine.culture.fr, in French

As elsewhere in Europe on the third weekend in September, Paris opens the doors to buildings (eg embassies, government ministries, corporate offices – even the Palais de l’Élysée) normally off-limits to outsiders.

TECHNOPARADE

www.technopol.net, in French

Part of the annual festival called Rendez-vous Électroniques (Electronic Meeting), this parade involving some 20 floats and carrying 150 musicians and DJs wends its way on the periphery of the Marais on the third Saturday of September, starting and ending at place de la Bastille, 12e.

NUIT BLANCHE

www.paris.fr

‘White Night’ (or more accurately ‘All Nighter’) is when Paris ‘does’ New York and becomes ‘the city that doesn’t sleep at all’. It’s a cultural festival that lasts from sundown until sunrise on the first Saturday and Sunday of October, with museums and recreational facilities in town joining bars and clubs and staying open till the very wee hours.

FÊTE DES VENDANGES DE MONTMARTRE

www.fetedesvendangesdemontmartre.com, in French

This festival is held over the second weekend in October following the harvesting of grapes from the Close du Montmartre, with costumes, speeches and a parade.

FOIRE INTERNATIONALE D’ART CONTEMPORAIN

www.fiacparis.com

Better known as FIAC, this huge contemporary art fair is held over five days in late October, with some 160 galleries represented at the Louvre and the Grand Palais.

November & December

AFRICOLOR

www.africolor.com, in French

This African music festival is held for the most part in venues in the suburbs surrounding Paris from late November to late December.

JUMPING INTERNATIONAL DE PARIS

www.salon-cheval.com, in French

This annual showjumping tournament features the world’s most celebrated jumpers at the Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy in the 12e arrondissement (metro Bercy) in the first half of December. The annual International Showjumping Competition forms part of the Salon du Cheval at the Parc des Expositions at Porte de Versailles in the 15e (metro Porte de Versailles).


top picks
UNUSUAL EVENTS
 
  • Paris Plages (opposite) – the next best thing to the seaside along France’s smallest urban beaches
  • Gay Pride March (opposite) – feathers and beads and participants in and out of same
  • Fête des Vendanges de Montmartre (left) – lots of noise for a bunch of old (and some say sour) grapes
  • Louis XVI Commemorative Mass – right-wing sob-fest for aristocrats, pretenders and hangers-on
  • Salon Internationale de l’Agriculture – lots to smell (cowpats) and hear (braying donkeys) and see (lambs gambolling) and eat and drink at Europe’s largest agricultural fair

CHRISTMAS EVE MASS

Mass is celebrated at midnight on Christmas Eve at many Paris churches, including Notre Dame, but get there by 11pm to find a place.

NEW YEAR’S EVE

Blvd St-Michel (5e), place de la Bastille (11e), the Eiffel Tower (7e) and especially av des Champs-Élysées (8e) are the places to be to welcome in the New Year.

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COSTS & MONEY

If you stay in a hostel or in a showerless, toiletless room in a bottom-end hotel and have picnics rather than dining out, it is possible to stay in Paris for €50 a day per person. A couple staying in a two-star hotel and eating one cheap restaurant meal each day should count on spending at least €75 a day per person. Eating out frequently, ordering wine and treating yourself to any of the many luxuries on offer in Paris will increase these figures considerably.

If greater Paris were a country, its economy would rank as one of the world’s largest (in fact, placing at No 17). The 617,000 companies employing just over five million people in Île de France contribute to the region’s €415 billion GDP, which accounts for upwards of a third of the total for all of France. The service industries employ the most people – almost 82% of the workforce, of which 4% are in tourism. Not surprisingly, only 0.5% of Parisians are involved in the primary industries of agriculture, forestry or fishing.

Manufacturers – software developers, electronic industries, pharmaceuticals, publishers – employ about 18% of the workforce. As most industry is located outside the Périphérique Click here, about the only factories you’re likely to see during your visit are those lining the highway from Charles de Gaulle airport. As a result, 50% of Parisians commute out of – rather than into – the city every day to work.

That is, those who have a job to commute to do. Unemployment is currently at a low of around 7.5% nationally, and the jobless rate for Paris is about half that figure. However, for youths living in the dire housing estates surrounding the city, the figure reaches more than 20%, one of the reasons that the banlieues (suburbs) erupted into violence at the end of 2005 Click here. Bids by the previous government to reduce the number of jobless youth through its controversial CPE plan Click here were stymied early the following year when a million workers and students took to the streets in protest. They argued that the law, which would allow companies with more than 20 employees to fire workers under 26 within the first two years of employment with no severance pay, encouraged a regular turnover of cut-rate staff and did not allow young people to build careers. The French government decided to withdraw the CPE altogether later in 2006.

To a certain extent the government’s ability to boost employment through training and aid is crimped: it simply doesn’t have the money. First and foremost is the need to reduce debt, which stood at almost 67% of GDP in 2007. The country was also in danger of breaching EU rules regulating national debt – again – if it didn’t cut its spending. The national public deficit was expected to rise to over 3% of GDP in 2008, which is above the EU limit.

To fill the national coffers, France has raised billions of euros by selling stakes in state-owned companies. In late 2007 and early 2008 it sold a stake of 2.5% in the power company Électricité de France and one of 3.3% in Aéroports de Paris, the company that manages Charles de Gaulle and Orly airports. It’s not the first time that the government has flogged the family silver.


HOW MUCH?

An hour’s car parking: from €1 (street), €2.40 (garage)

Average fair/good seat at the opera: €40/60

Cinema ticket: €5.90 to €9.90 (adult)

Copy of Le Monde newspaper: €1.30

Coffee at a café bar: from €1.20

Grand crème at Champs-Élysées café terrace: €4.50

Metro/bus ticket: €1.50 (€10 for 10)

Entry to the Louvre: €9 (adult)

Litre of bottled mineral water: from €0.70 (supermarket), €1 (corner shop)

Pint of local beer: from €6.50 (€5 at happy hour)

Pop music CD: €13 to €18

Street snack: from €2.50 (basic crêpe or galette)

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INTERNET RESOURCES

Wi-fi is widely available at midrange and top-end hotels in Paris (sometimes for free but more usually for something like €5 per one-off connection) and occasionally in public spaces such as train stations and tourist offices. For a list of almost 100 free-access wi-fi cafés in Paris, visit www.cafes-wifi.com (in French).

If you don’t have a laptop or wi-fi access, don’t fret: Paris is awash with internet cafés with their own computers, and you’ll probably find at least one in your immediate neighbourhood.

In terms of websites to consult before you go, Lonely Planet (www.lonelyplanet.com) is a good start for many of the city’s more useful links. The following English-language websites are useful when wanting learn more about Paris (and France).

Expatica (www.expatica.com) Lifestyle website for internationals living in countries worldwide, including France, with regularly updated news, features and blogs.

French Government Tourism Office (www.francetourism.com) Official tourism site with all manner of information on and about travel in France, with lots and lots on Paris too.

Go Go Paris! Culture! (www.gogoparis.com) Clubs, hangouts, art gigs, dance around town, eat and drink – everything a culture vulture living in Paris needs.

Mairie de Paris (www.paris.fr) Your primary source of information about Paris, with everything from opening times and what’s on to the latest statistics direct from the Hôtel de Ville.

Paris Convention & Visitors Bureau (www.parisinfo.com) The official site of the Office de Tourisme et de Congrès – the city’s tourist office – is super, with more links than you’ll ever need.

Paris Digest (www.parisdigest.com) Useful site for making pretravel arrangements and for its forum.

Paris Pages (www.paris.org) Has good links to museums and cultural events.

Paris Woman (www.pariswoman.com) Deals with news and issues and events affecting expatriate women in Paris.

RATP (www.ratp.com) This invaluable (and easy to use) website from the city’s transport network will help you negotiate your way around town.


ADVANCE PLANNING

A couple of months before you go Try to book your accommodation months ahead, especially if it’s high season and you want to stay in a boutique hotel like the Hôtel Caron de Beaumarchais, a ‘find’ such as the Hôtel Jeanne d’Arc or some place offering exceptional value for money like the Hôtel du Champ-du-Mars. Take a look at some of the ‘what’s on’ websites listed on opposite or the entertainment magazines Pariscope and L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here.

A month before you go If you’re interested in serious fine dining at places like Le Grand Véfour Click here or the Casa Olympe and there’s more than one of you, book a table now. Now is also the time to visit the Fnac and/or Virgin Megastore websites Click here to get seats for a big-ticket concert, musical or play.

Two weeks before you go Blockbuster exhibitions at venues such as the Grand Palais or Centre Pompidou – or even a visit to the Louvre – can be booked in advance via Fnac or Virgin Megastore for a modest fee. Sign up for an email newsletter via Expatica (opposite) and read some up-to-date blogs.

A day or two before you go Make sure your bookings are in order and you’ve followed all the instructions outlined in this chapter.

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BLOGS

If there’s one country in Europe where blogging is a national pastime (so that’s what they do outside their 35-hour work week) it’s France. The underbelly of what French people think right now, the French blogosphere is gargantuan, with everyone and everything from streets and metro stops to bands, bars and the president having their own blog. For an informative overview (did someone say three million bloggers in France and counting?) see LeMondeduBlog.com (www.lemondedublog.com in English & French). Parisian star du blog Loïc Le Meur (www.loiclemeur.com in English & French) – one of France’s most widely read and watched (this serial entrepreneur vid-blogs like mad at www.loic.tv) – considerately blogs a best-of-blog list at www.eu.socialtext.net/loicwiki/index.cgi?french_blogosphere.

For clubbing, music and nightlife links Click here. Blogroll to tune into politics, fashion/kitchen gossip, happenings and bags more in the capital (in English):

Chocolate & Zucchini (http://chocolateandzucchini.com) Food-driven blog by a 28-year-old foodie called Clotilde from Montmartre.

Le Blageur à Paris (www.parisblagueur.blogspot.com) On-the-ball, engaging and inspirational snapshots of Parisian life from one of the city’s most enigmatic bloggers, a 32-year-old French fille called Meg Zimbeck.

Paris Daily Photo (www.parisdailyphoto.com) An image a day with detailed comment, enjoyed by 2000-odd a day, from friendly Eric in the 9e arrondissement.

Petite Brigitte (http://petitebrigitte.com) ‘Inside Paris: Gossip, News, Fashion’ with a savvy Parisian gal in St-Germain des Prés.

Secrets of Paris (www.secretsofparis.com) OK, OK, she writes for lots of our competitors but this site is a great resource, full of venue recommendations, lots of great bar/nightlife info.

The Paris Blog (www.theparisblog.com) Insightful portrait of Parisian life by a blogger collective.

Voice of a City (www.voiceofacity.com) Eurostar-vetted voices blog about their Paris.


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BACKGROUND


HISTORY
    EARLY SETTLEMENT
    INVASIONS & DYNASTIES
    CONSOLIDATION OF POWER
    A CULTURAL ‘REBIRTH’
    REFORM & REACTION
    ANCIEN RÉGIME & ENLIGHTENMENT
    COME THE REVOLUTION
    LITTLE BIG MAN & EMPIRE
    THE RETURN OF THE MONARCHY
    FROM PRESIDENT TO EMPEROR
    THE COMMUNE & THE ‘BEAUTIFUL AGE’
    THE GREAT WAR & ITS AFTERMATH
    WWII & OCCUPATION
    POSTWAR INSTABILITY
    CHARLES DE GAULLE & THE FIFTH REPUBLIC
    POMPIDOU TO CHIRAC
    PARIS TODAY
ARTS
    LITERATURE
    PHILOSOPHY
    PAINTING
    SCULPTURE
    MUSIC
    CINEMA
    THEATRE
    DANCE
ARCHITECTURE
    GALLO-ROMAN
    MEROVINGIAN & CAROLINGIAN
    ROMANESQUE
    GOTHIC
    RENAISSANCE
    BAROQUE
    NEOCLASSICISM
    ART NOUVEAU
    MODERN
    CONTEMPORARY
ENVIRONMENT & PLANNING
    THE LAND
    GREEN PARIS
    URBAN PLANNING & DEVELOPMENT
GOVERNMENT & POLITICS
    LOCAL GOVERNMENT
    NATIONAL GOVERNMENT
MEDIA
FASHION
LANGUAGE
    TIMELINE


HISTORY

With upwards of 12 million inhabitants, the greater metropolitan area of Paris is home to almost 19% of France’s total population (central Paris counts just under 2.2 million souls). Since before the Revolution, Paris has been what urban planners like to call a ‘hypertrophic city’ – the enlarged ‘head’ of a nation-state’s ‘body’. The urban area of the next biggest city – Marseilles – is just over a third the size of central Paris.

As the capital city, Paris is the administrative, business and cultural centre; virtually everything of importance in the republic starts, finishes or is currently taking place here. The French have always said ‘Quand Paris éternue, la France s’en rhume’ (When Paris sneezes, France catches cold) but there have been conscious efforts – going back at least four decades – by governments to decentralise Paris’ role, and during that time the population, and thus to a certain extent the city’s authority, has actually shrunk. The pivotal year was 1968, a watershed not just in France but throughout Western Europe.

Paris has a timeless quality, a condition that can often be deceiving. And while the cobbled backstreets of Montmartre, the terraced cafés of Montparnasse, the iconic structure of the Eiffel Tower and the placid waters of the Seine may all have some visitors believing that the city has been here since time immemorial, that’s hardly the case.

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EARLY SETTLEMENT

The early history of the Celts is murky, but it is thought that they originated somewhere in the eastern part of central Europe around the 2nd millennium BC and began to migrate across the continent, arriving in France sometime in the 7th century BC. In the 3rd century a group of Celtic Gauls called the Parisii settled here.

Centuries of conflict between the Gauls and Romans ended in 52 BC, with the latter taking control of the territory. The settlement on the Seine prospered as the Roman town of Lutetia (from the Latin for ‘midwater dwelling’, in French, Lutèce), counting some 10,000 inhabitants by the 3rd century AD.

The Great Migrations, beginning around the middle of the 3rd century AD with raids by the Franks and then by the Alemanii from the east, left the settlement on the south bank scorched and pillaged, and its inhabitants fled to the Île de la Cité, which was subsequently fortified with stone walls. Christianity (as well as Mithraism; see opposite) had been introduced early in the previous century, and the first church, probably made of wood, was built on the western part of the island.

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INVASIONS & DYNASTIES

The Romans occupied what would become known as Paris (after its first settlers) from AD 212 to the late 5th century. It was at this time that a second wave of Franks and other Germanic groups under Merovius from the north and northeast overran the territory. Merovius’ grandson, Clovis I, converted to Christianity, making Paris his seat in 508. Childeric II, Clovis’ son and successor, founded the Abbey of St-Germain des Prés a half-century later, and the dynasty’s most productive ruler, Dagobert, established an abbey at St-Denis. This abbey soon became the richest, most important monastery in France and became the final resting place of its kings.

The militaristic rulers of the Carolingian dynasty, beginning with Charles ‘the Hammer’ Martel (688–741) were almost permanently away fighting wars in the east, and Paris languished, controlled mostly by the counts of Paris. When Charles Martel’s grandson, Charlemagne (768–814), moved his capital to Aix-la-Chapelle (today’s Aachen in Germany), Paris’ fate was sealed. Basically a group of separate villages with its centre on the island, Paris was badly defended throughout the second half of the 9th century and suffered a succession of raids by the ‘Norsemen’ (Vikings).


MITHRA & THE GREAT SACRIFICE
Mithraism, the worship of the god Mithra, originated in Persia. As Roman rule extended into the west, the religion became extremely popular with traders, imperial slaves and mercenaries of the Roman army and spread rapidly throughout the empire in the 2nd and 3rd centuries AD. In fact, Mithraism was the principal rival of Christianity until Constantine came to the throne in the 4th century.
Mithraism was a mysterious religion with its devotees (mostly males) sworn to secrecy. What little is known of Mithra, the god of justice and social contract, has been deduced from reliefs and icons found in sanctuaries and temples, particularly in Eastern and Central European countries. Most of these portray Mithra clad in a Persian-style cap and tunic, sacrificing a white bull in front of Sol, the sun god. From the bull’s blood sprout grain and grapes and from its semen animals. Sol’s wife Luna, the moon, begins her cycle and time is born.
Mithraism and Christianity were close competitors partly because of the striking similarity of many of their rituals. Both involve the birth of a deity on winter solstice (25 December), shepherds, death and resurrection, and a form of baptism. Devotees knelt when they worshipped and a common meal – a ‘communion’ of bread and water – was a regular feature of both liturgies.

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CONSOLIDATION OF POWER

The counts of Paris, whose powers had increased as the Carolingians feuded among themselves, elected one of their own, Hugh Capet, as king at Senlis in 987. He made Paris the royal seat and resided in the renovated palace of the Roman governor on the Île de la Cité (the site of the present Palais de Justice). Under Capetian rule, which would last for the next 800 years, Paris prospered as a centre of politics, commerce, trade, religion and culture. By the time Hugh Capet had assumed the throne, the Norsemen (or Normans, descendants of the Vikings) were in control of northern and western French territory. In 1066 they mounted a successful invasion of England from their base in Normandy.

Paris’ strategic riverside position ensured its importance throughout the Middle Ages, although settlement remained centred on the Île de la Cité, with the rive gauche (left bank) to the south given over to fields and vineyards; the Marais area on the rive droite (right bank) to the north was a waterlogged marsh. The first guilds were established in the 11th century, and rapidly grew in importance; in the mid-12th century the ship merchants’ guild bought the principal river port, by today’s Hôtel de Ville (city hall), from the crown.


GOING UP & UP
The 12th and 13th centuries were a time of frenetic building activity in Paris. Abbot Suger, both confessor and minister to several Capetian kings, was one of the powerhouses of this period; in 1136 he commissioned the basilica at St-Denis. Less than three decades later, work started on the cathedral of Notre Dame, the greatest creation of medieval Paris. At the same time Philippe-Auguste (r 1180–1223) expanded the city wall, adding 25 gates and hundreds of protective towers.
The Marais, whose name means ‘swamp’, was drained for agricultural use and settlement moved to the north (or right) bank of the Seine. this would soon become the mercantile centre, especially around place de Grève (today’s place de l’Hôtel de Ville). The food markets at Les Halles first came into existence in 1183 and the Louvre began its existence as a riverside fortress in the 13th century. In a bid to do something about the city’s horrible traffic congestion and stinking excrement (the population numbered about 200,000 by the year 1200), Philippe-Auguste paved four of Paris’ main streets for the first time since the Roman occupation, using metre-square sandstone blocks. By 1292 Paris counted 352 streets, 10 squares and 11 crossroads.

The area south of the Seine – today’s Left Bank – was by contrast developing not as a trade centre but as the centre of European learning and erudition, particularly in the so-called Latin Quarter. The ill-fated lovers Pierre Abélard and Héloïse (boxed text) wrote the finest poetry of the age and their treatises on philosophy, and Thomas Aquinas taught at the new University of Paris. About 30 other colleges were established, including the Sorbonne.

In 1337 some three centuries of hostility between the Capetians and the Anglo-Normans degenerated into the Hundred Years’ War, which would be fought on and off until the middle of the 15th century. The Black Death (1348–49) killed more than a third (an estimated 80,000 souls) of Paris’ population but only briefly interrupted the fighting. Paris would not see its population reach 200,000 again until the beginning of the 16th century.

The Hundred Years’ War and the plague, along with the development of free, independent cities elsewhere in Europe, brought political tension and open insurrection to Paris. In 1358 the provost of the merchants, a wealthy draper named Étienne Marcel, allied himself with peasants revolting against the dauphin (the future Charles V) and seized Paris in a bid to limit the power of the throne and secure a city charter. But the dauphin’s supporters recaptured it within two years, and Marcel and his followers were executed at place de Grève. Charles then completed the right-bank city wall begun by Marcel and turned the Louvre into a sumptuous palace for himself.

After the French forces were defeated by the English at Agincourt in 1415, Paris was once again embroiled in revolt. The dukes of Burgundy, allied with the English, occupied the capital in 1420. Two years later John Plantagenet, duke of Bedford, was installed as regent of France for the English king, Henry VI, who was then an infant. Henry was crowned king of France at Notre Dame less than 10 years later, but Paris was almost continuously under siege from the French for much of that time.

Around that time a 17-year-old peasant girl known to history as Jeanne d’Arc (Joan of Arc) persuaded the French pretender Charles VII that she’d received a divine mission from God to expel the English from France and bring about Charles’ coronation. She rallied French troops and defeated the English at Patay, north of Orléans, and Charles was crowned at Reims. But Joan of Arc failed to take Paris. In 1430 she was captured, convicted of witchcraft and heresy by a tribunal of French ecclesiastics and burned at the stake.

Charles VII returned to Paris in 1436, ending more than 16 years of occupation, but the English were not entirely driven from French territory (with the exception of Calais) for another 17 years. The occupation had left Paris a disaster zone. Conditions improved while the restored monarchy moved to consolidate its power under Louis XI (r 1461–83), the first Renaissance king under whose reign the city’s first printing press was installed at the Sorbonne. Churches were rehabilitated or built in the Flamboyant Gothic style (Click here) and a number of hôtels particuliers (private mansions) such as the Hôtel de Cluny (now the Musée National du Moyen Age, Click here) and the Hôtel de Sens (now the Bibliothèque Forney, Click here) were erected.

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A CULTURAL ‘REBIRTH’

The culture of the Italian Renaissance (French for ‘rebirth’) arrived in full swing in France during the reign of François I in the early 16th century partly because of a series of indecisive French military operations in Italy. For the first time, the French aristocracy was exposed to Renaissance ideas of scientific and geographical scholarship and discovery as well as the value of secular over religious life. The population of Paris at the start of François’ reign in 1515 was 170,000 – still almost 20% less than it had been some three centuries before, when the Black Death had decimated the population.

Writers such as François Rabelais, Clément Marot and Pierre de Ronsard of La Pléiade were influential at this time, as were the architectural disciples of Michelangelo and Raphael. Evidence of this architectural influence can be seen in François I’s chateau at Fontainebleau and the Petit Château at Chantilly. In the city itself, a prime example of the period is the Pont Neuf, the ‘New Bridge’ that is, in fact, the oldest span in Paris. This new architecture was meant to reflect the splendour of the monarchy, which was fast moving towards absolutism, and of Paris as the capital of a powerful centralised state. But all this grandeur and show of strength was not enough to stem the tide of Protestantism that was flowing into France.

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REFORM & REACTION

The position of the Protestant Reformation sweeping across Europe in the 1530s had been strengthened in France by the ideas of John Calvin, a Frenchman exiled to Geneva. The edict of January 1562, which afforded the Protestants certain rights, was met by violent opposition from ultra-Catholic nobles whose fidelity to their faith was mixed with a desire to strengthen their power bases in the provinces. Paris remained very much a Catholic stronghold, and executions continued apace up to the outbreak of religious civil war.

The Wars of Religion (1562–98) involved three groups: the Huguenots (French Protestants supported by the English), the Catholic League and the Catholic king. The fighting severely weakened the position of the monarchy and brought the kingdom of France close to disintegration. On 7 May 1588, on the ‘Day of the Barricades’, Henri III, who had granted many concessions to the Huguenots, was forced to flee from the Louvre when the Catholic League rose up against him. He was assassinated the following year.

Henri III was succeeded by Henri IV, who inaugurated the Bourbon dynasty and was a Huguenot when he ascended the throne. Catholic Paris refused to allow its new Protestant king entry into the city, and a siege of the capital continued for almost five years. Only when Henri embraced Catholicism at St-Denis did the capital welcome him. In 1598 he promulgated the Edict of Nantes, which guaranteed the Huguenots religious freedom as well as many civil and political rights, but this was not universally accepted.

Henri consolidated the monarchy’s power and began to rebuild Paris (the city’s population was now about 450,000) after more than 30 years of fighting. The magnificent place Royale (today’s place des Vosges in the Marais) and place Dauphine at the western end of the Île de la Cité are prime examples of the new era of town planning. But Henri’s rule ended as abruptly and violently as that of his predecessor. In 1610 he was assassinated by a Catholic fanatic named François Ravaillac when his coach became stuck in traffic along rue de la Ferronnerie in the Marais. Ravaillac was executed by an irate mob of Parisians (who were mightily sick of religious turmoil by this time) by being quartered – after a thorough scalding.

Henri IV’s son, the future Louis XIII, was too young to assume the throne, so his mother, Marie de Médici, was named regent. She set about building the magnificent Palais du Luxembourg and its enormous gardens for herself just outside the city wall. Louis XIII ascended the throne at age 16 but throughout most of his undistinguished reign he remained under the control of Cardinal Richelieu, his ruthless chief minister. Richelieu is best known for his untiring efforts to establish an all-powerful monarchy in France, opening the door to the absolutism of Louis XIV, and French supremacy in Europe. Under Louis XIII’s reign two uninhabited islets in the Seine – Île Notre Dame and Île aux Vaches – were joined to form the Île de St-Louis, and Richelieu commissioned a number of palaces and churches, including the Palais Royal and the Église Notre Dame du Val-de-Grâce.

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ANCIEN RÉGIME & ENLIGHTENMENT

Le Roi Soleil (the Sun King) – Louis XIV – ascended the throne in 1643 at the age of five. His mother, Anne of Austria, was appointed regent, and Cardinal Mazarin, a protégé of Richelieu, was named chief minister. One of the decisive events of Louis XIV’s early reign was the War of the Fronde (1648–53), a rebellion by the bourgeoisie and some of the nobility opposed to taxation and the increasing power of the monarchy. The revolt forced the royal court to flee Paris for a time.

When Mazarin died in 1661, Louis XIV assumed absolute power until his own death in 1715. Throughout his long reign, characterised by ‘glitter and gloom’ as one historian has put it, Louis sought to project the power of the French monarchy – bolstered by claims of divine right – both at home and abroad. He involved France in a long series of costly, almost continuous wars with Holland, Austria and England, which gained France territory but terrified its neighbours and nearly bankrupted the treasury. State taxation to fill the coffers caused widespread poverty and vagrancy in Paris, which was by then a city of almost 600,000 people.

But Louis was able to quash the ambitious, feuding aristocracy and create the first truly centralised French state, elements of which can still be seen in France today. While he did pour huge sums of money into building his extravagant palace at Versailles, by doing so he was able to turn his nobles into courtiers, forcing them to compete with one another for royal favour and reducing them to ineffectual sycophants.

Louis mercilessly persecuted his Protestant subjects, whom he considered a threat to the unity of the state and thus his power. In 1685 he revoked the Edict of Nantes, which had guaranteed the Huguenots freedom of conscience.

It was Louis XIV who said ‘Après moi, le déluge’ (After me, the flood); in hindsight his words were more than prophetic. His grandson and successor, Louis XV, was an oafish, incompetent buffoon, and grew to be universally despised. However, Louis XV’s regent, Philippe of Orléans, did move the court from Versailles back to Paris; in the Age of Enlightenment, the French capital had become, in effect, the centre of Europe.

As the 18th century progressed, new economic and social circumstances rendered the ancien régime (old order) dangerously out of step with the needs of the country and its capital. The regime was further weakened by the antiestablishment and anticlerical ideas of the Enlightenment, whose leading lights included Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet), Jean-Jacques Rousseau and Denis Diderot. But entrenched vested interests, a cumbersome power structure and royal lassitude prevented change from starting until the 1770s, by which time the monarchy’s moment had passed.

The Seven Years’ War (1756–63) was one of a series of ruinous military engagements pursued by Louis XV. It led to the loss of France’s flourishing colonies in Canada, the West Indies and India. It was in part to avenge these losses that Louis XVI sided with the colonists in the American War of Independence (1775–83). But the Seven Years’ War cost France a fortune and, more disastrously for the monarchy, it helped to disseminate at home the radical democratic ideas that were thrust upon the world stage by the American Revolution.

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COME THE REVOLUTION

By the late 1780s, the indecisive Louis XVI and his dominating Vienna-born queen, Marie-Antoinette, known to her subjects disparagingly as l’Autrichienne (the Austrian), had managed to alienate virtually every segment of society – from the enlightened bourgeoisie to the conservatives – and the king became increasingly isolated as unrest and dissatisfaction reached boiling point. When he tried to neutralise the power of the more reform-minded delegates at a meeting of the États-Généraux (States-General) at the Jeu de Paume in Versailles from May to June 1789 (Click here), the masses – spurred on by the oratory and inflammatory tracts circulating at places like the Café de Foy at Palais Royal – took to the streets of Paris. On 14 July, a mob raided the armoury at the Hôtel des Invalides for rifles, seizing 32,000 muskets, and then stormed the prison at Bastille – the ultimate symbol of the despotic ancien régime. The French Revolution had begun.

At first, the Revolution was in the hands of moderate republicans called the Girondins. France was declared a constitutional monarchy and various reforms were introduced, including the adoption of the Déclaration des Droits de l’Homme and du Citoyen (Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen). This document set forth the principles of the Revolution in a preamble and 17 articles, and was modelled on the American Declaration of Independence. A forward-thinking document called Les Droits des Femmes (The Rights of Women) was also published. But as the masses armed themselves against the external threat to the new government – posed by Austria, Prussia and the exiled French nobles – patriotism and nationalism mixed with extreme fervour and then popularised and radicalised the Revolution. It was not long before the Girondins lost out to the extremist Jacobins, led by Maximilien Robespierre, Georges-Jacques Danton and Jean-Paul Marat. The Jacobins abolished the monarchy and declared the First Republic in September 1792 after Louis XVI proved unreliable as a constitutional monarch. The Assemblée Nationale (National Assembly) was replaced by an elected Revolutionary Convention.

In January 1793 Louis XVI, who had tried to flee the country with his family but only got as far as Varennes, was convicted of ‘conspiring against the liberty of the nation’ and guillotined at place de la Révolution, today’s place de la Concorde. His consort, Marie-Antoinette, was executed in October of the same year.


A DATE WITH THE REVOLUTION
Along with standardising France’s – and, later, most of the world’s – system of weights and measures with the almost universal metric system, the Revolutionary government adopted a new, ‘more rational’ calendar from which all ‘superstitious’ associations (ie saints’ days and mythology) were removed. Year 1 began on 22 September 1792, the day the First Republic was proclaimed. The names of the 12 months – Vendémaire, Brumaire, Frimaire, Nivôse, Pluviôse, Ventôse, Germinal, Floréal, Prairial, Messidor, Thermidor and Fructidor – were chosen according to the seasons. The autumn months, for instance, were Vendémaire, derived from vendange (grape harvest); Brumaire, derived from brume (mist or fog); and Frimaire, derived from frimas (wintry weather). In turn, each month was divided into three 10-day ‘weeks’ called décades, the last day of which was a rest day. The five remaining days of the year were used to celebrate Virtue, Genius, Labour, Opinion and Rewards. While the republican calendar worked well in theory, it caused no end of confusion for France in its communications and trade abroad because the months and days kept changing in relation to those of the Gregorian calendar. The Revolutionary calendar was abandoned and the old system was restored in France in 1806 by Napoleon Bonaparte.

In March 1793 the Jacobins set up the notorious Committee of Public Safety to deal with national defence and to apprehend and try ‘traitors’. This body had dictatorial control over the city and the country during the so-called Reign of Terror (September 1793 to July 1794), which saw most religious freedoms revoked and churches closed to worship and desecrated. Paris during the Reign of Terror was not unlike Moscow under Joseph Stalin.

Jacobin propagandist Marat was assassinated in his bathtub by the Girondin Charlotte Corday in July 1793 and by autumn the Reign of Terror was in full swing; by mid-1794 some 2500 people had been beheaded in Paris and more than 14,500 executed elsewhere in France. In the end, the Revolution turned on itself, ‘devouring its own children’ in the words of an intimate of Robespierre, Jacobin Louis Antoine Léon de Saint-Just. Robespierre sent Danton to the guillotine; Saint-Just and Robespierre eventually met the same fate. Paris celebrated for days afterwards.

After the Reign of Terror faded, a five-man delegation of moderate republicans led by Paul Barras, who had ordered the arrests of Robespierre and Saint-Just, set itself up to rule the republic as the Directoire (Directory). On 5 October 1795 (or 13 Vendémaire in year 6 – boxed text), a group of royalist jeunesse dorée (gilded youth) bent on overthrowing the Directory was intercepted in front of the Église St-Roch on rue St-Honoré. They were met by loyalist forces led by a young Corsican general named Napoleon Bonaparte, who fired into the crowd. For this ‘whiff of grapeshot’ Napoleon was put in command of the French forces in Italy, where he was particularly successful in the campaign against Austria. His victories would soon turn him into an independent political force.

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LITTLE BIG MAN & EMPIRE

The post-Revolutionary government led by the five-man Directory was far from stable, and when Napoleon returned to Paris in 1799 he found a chaotic republic in which few citizens had any faith. In November, when it appeared that the Jacobins were again on the ascendancy in the legislature, Napoleon tricked the delegates into leaving Paris for St-Cloud to the southwest (‘for their own protection’), overthrew the discredited Directory and assumed power himself.

At first, Napoleon took the post of First Consul, chosen by popular vote. In a referendum three years later he was named ‘Consul for Life’ and his birthday became a national holiday. By December 1804, when he crowned himself ‘Emperor of the French’ in the presence of Pope Pius VII at Notre Dame, the scope and nature of Napoleon’s ambitions were obvious to all. But to consolidate and legitimise his authority Napoleon needed more victories on the battlefield. So began a seemingly endless series of wars and victories by which France would come to control most of Europe.

In 1812 Napoleon invaded Russia in an attempt to do away with his last major rival on the Continent, Tsar Alexander I. Although his Grande Armée managed to capture Moscow, it was wiped out by the brutal Russian winter; of the 600,000 soldiers mobilised, only 90,000 – a mere 15% – returned. Prussia and Napoleon’s other adversaries quickly recovered from their earlier defeats, and less than two years after the fiasco in Russia the Prussians, backed by Russia, Austria and Britain, entered Paris. Napoleon abdicated and was exiled to the island of Elba off the coast of Italy. The Senate then formally deposed him as emperor.

At the Congress of Vienna (1814–15), the victorious allies restored the House of Bourbon to the French throne, installing Louis XVI’s brother as Louis XVIII (Louis XVI’s second son, Charles, had been declared Louis XVII by monarchists in exile but he died while under arrest by the Revolutionary government). But in February 1815 Napoleon escaped from Elba, landed in southern France and gathered a large army as he marched towards Paris. On 1 June he reclaimed the throne at celebrations held at the Champs de Mars. But his reign came to an end just three weeks later when his forces were defeated at Waterloo in Belgium. Napoleon was exiled again, this time to St Helena in the South Atlantic, where he died in 1821.

Although reactionary in some ways – he re-established slavery in France’s colonies, for example – Napoleon instituted a number of important reforms, including a reorganisation of the judicial system; the promulgation of a new legal code, the Code Napoléon (or civil code), which forms the basis of the French legal system to this day; and the establishment of a new educational system. More importantly, he preserved the essence of the changes brought about by the Revolution. Napoleon is therefore remembered by many French people as the nation’s greatest hero.

Few of Napoleon’s grand architectural plans for Paris were completed, but the Arc de Triomphe, Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, La Madeleine, Pont des Arts, rue de Rivoli and some buildings within the Louvre complex as well as the Canal St-Martin all date from this period.

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THE RETURN OF THE MONARCHY

The reign of ‘the gouty old gentleman’ Louis XVIII (1814–24) was dominated by the struggle between extreme monarchists who wanted a return to the ancien régime, liberals who saw the changes wrought by the Revolution as irreversible, and the radicals of the working-class neighbourhoods of Paris (by 1817 the population of Paris stood at 715,000). Louis’ successor, the reactionary Charles X (r 1824–30), handled this struggle with great incompetence and was overthrown in the so-called July Revolution of 1830 when a motley group of revolutionaries seized the Hôtel de Ville. The Colonne de Juillet in the centre of the place de la Bastille honours those killed in the street battles that accompanied this revolution; they are buried in vaults under the column.

Louis-Philippe (r 1830–48), an ostensibly constitutional monarch of bourgeois sympathies and tastes, was then chosen by parliament to head what became known as the July Monarchy. His tenure was marked by inflation, corruption and rising unemployment and was overthrown in the February Revolution of 1848, in whose wake the Second Republic was established. The population of Paris had reached one million by 1844.

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FROM PRESIDENT TO EMPEROR

In presidential elections held in 1848, Napoleon’s inept nephew, the German-accented Louis Napoleon Bonaparte, was overwhelmingly elected. Legislative deadlock caused Louis Napoleon to lead a coup d’état in 1851, after which he was proclaimed Emperor Napoleon III (Bonaparte had conferred the title Napoleon II on his son upon his abdication in 1814, but the latter never ruled). A plebiscite overwhelmingly approved the motion (7.8 million in favour and 250,000 against), and Napoleon III moved into the Palais des Tuileries.

The Second Empire lasted from 1852 until 1870. During this period France enjoyed significant economic growth, and Paris was transformed by town planner Haussmann (boxed text) into the modern city it now is today. The city’s first department stores were also built at this time – the now defunct La Ville de Paris in 1834 followed by Le Bon Marché in 1852 – as were the passages couverts, Paris’ delightful covered shopping arcades Click here.

Like his uncle before him, Napoleon III embroiled France in a number of costly conflicts, including the disastrous Crimean War (1854–56). In 1870 Otto von Bismarck goaded Napoleon III into declaring war on Prussia. Within months the thoroughly unprepared French army was defeated and the emperor taken prisoner. When news of the debacle reached Paris the masses took to the streets and demanded that a republic be declared.

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THE COMMUNE & THE ‘BEAUTIFUL AGE’

The Third Republic began as a provisional government of national defence in September 1870. The Prussians were, at the time, advancing on Paris and would subsequently lay siege to the capital, forcing starving Parisians to bake bread partially with sawdust and consume most of the animals on display in the Ménagerie at the Jardin des Plantes. In January 1871 the government negotiated an armistice with the Prussians, who demanded that National Assembly elections be held immediately. The republicans, who had called on the nation to continue to resist the Prussians and were overwhelmingly supported by Parisians, lost to the monarchists, who had campaigned on a peace platform.

As expected, the monarchist-controlled assembly ratified the Treaty of Frankfurt. However, when ordinary Parisians heard of its harsh terms – a huge war indemnity, cession of the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine, and the occupation of Paris by 30,000 Prussian troops – they revolted against the government.

Following the withdrawal of Prussian troops on 18 March 1871, an insurrectionary government, known to history as the Paris Commune, was established and its supporters, the Communards, seized control of the capital (the legitimate government had fled to Versailles). In late May, after the Communards had tried to burn the centre of the city, the Versailles government launched an offensive on the Commune known as La Semaine Sanglante (Bloody Week), in which several thousand rebels were killed. After a mop-up of the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, the last of the Communard insurgents – cornered by government forces in the Cimetière du Père Lachaise – fought a hopeless, all-night battle among the tombstones. In the morning, the 147 survivors were lined up against what is now known as the Mur des Fédérés (Wall of the Federalists). They were then shot, and buried in a mass grave. A further 20,000 or so Communards, mostly working class, were rounded up throughout the city and executed. As many as 13,000 were jailed or transported to Devil’s Island penal colony off French Guyana in South America.


HAUSSMANN’S HOUSING
Few town planners anywhere in the world have had as great an impact on the city of their birth as did Baron Georges-Eugène Haussmann (1809–91) on Paris. As Prefect of the Seine département under Napoleon III between 1853 and 1870, Haussmann and his staff of engineers and architects completely rebuilt huge swaths of Paris. He is best known (and most bitterly attacked) for having demolished much of medieval Paris, replacing the chaotic narrow streets – easy to barricade in an uprising – with the handsome, arrow-straight thoroughfares for which the city is now celebrated. He also revolutionised Paris’ water-supply and sewerage systems and laid out many of the city’s loveliest parks, including large areas of the Bois de Boulogne and Bois de Vincennes as well as the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont and Parc Montsouris (Map). The 12 avenues leading out from the Arc de Triomphe were also his work.

Karl Marx, in his The Civil War in France, interpreted the Communard insurrection as the first great proletarian uprising against the bourgeoisie, and socialists came to see its victims as martyrs of the class struggle. Among the buildings destroyed in the fighting were the original Hôtel de Ville, the Palais des Tuileries and the Cours des Comptes (site of the present-day Musée d’Orsay). Both Ste-Chapelle and Notre Dame were slated to be torched but those in charge apparently had a change of heart at the last minute.

Despite this disastrous start, the Third Republic ushered in the glittering belle époque (beautiful age), with Art Nouveau architecture, a whole field of artistic ‘isms’ from impressionism onwards and advances in science and engineering, including the construction of the first metro line, which opened in 1900. Expositions universelles (world exhibitions) were held in Paris in 1889 – showcasing the then maligned Eiffel Tower – and again in 1900 in the purpose-built Petit Palais. The Paris of nightclubs and artistic cafés made its first appearance around this time, and Montmartre became a magnet for artists, writers, pimps and prostitutes (Click here).

But France was consumed with a desire for revenge after its defeat by Germany, and jingoistic nationalism, scandals and accusations were the order of the day. The most serious crisis – morally and politically – of the Third Republic, however, was the infamous Dreyfus Affair. This began in 1894 when a Jewish army captain named Alfred Dreyfus was accused of betraying military secrets to Germany – he was then court-martialled and sentenced to life imprisonment on Devil’s Island. Liberal politicians, artists and writers, including the novelist Émile Zola, who penned his celebrated ‘J’accuse!’ (I Accuse!) open letter in support of the captain, succeeded in having the case reopened – despite bitter opposition from the army command, right-wing politicians and many Catholic groups – and Dreyfus was vindicated in 1900. When he died in 1935 Dreyfus was laid to rest in the Cimetière de Montparnasse. The Dreyfus affair discredited the army and the Catholic Church in France. This resulted in more-rigorous civilian control of the military and, in 1905, the legal separation of the Catholic Church and the French state.

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THE GREAT WAR & ITS AFTERMATH

Central to France’s entry into WWI was the desire to regain the provinces of Alsace and Lorraine, lost to Germany in the Franco-Prussian War. Indeed, Raymond Poincaré, president of the Third Republic from 1913 to 1920 and later prime minister, was a native of Lorraine and a firm supporter of war with Germany. But when the heir to the Austrian throne, Archduke Franz Ferdinand, was assassinated by a Bosnian Serb in Sarajevo on 28 June 1914, Germany and Austria-Hungary – precipitating what would erupt into the first-ever global war – jumped the gun. Within a month, they had declared war on Russia and France.

By early September German troops had reached the River Marne, just 15km east of Paris, and the central government moved to Bordeaux. But Marshal Joffre’s troops, transported to the front by Parisian taxicabs, brought about the ‘Miracle of the Marne’, and Paris was safe within a month. In November 1918 the armistice was finally signed in a railway carriage in a clearing of the Forêt de Compiègne, 82km northeast of Paris.

The defeat of Austria-Hungary and Germany in WWI, which regained Alsace and Lorraine for France, was achieved at an unimaginable human cost. Of the eight million French men who were called to arms, 1.3 million were killed and almost one million crippled. In other words, two of every 10 Frenchmen aged between 20 and 45 years of age were killed in WWI. At the Battle of Verdun (1916) alone, the French, led by General Philippe Pétain, and the Germans each lost about 400,000 men.

The 1920s and ’30s saw Paris as a centre of the avant-garde, with artists pushing into new fields of cubism and surrealism, Le Corbusier rewriting the textbook for architecture, foreign writers such as Ernest Hemingway and James Joyce drawn by the city’s liberal atmosphere Click here and nightlife establishing a cutting-edge reputation for everything from jazz clubs to striptease.

France’s efforts to promote a separatist movement in the Rhineland, and its occupation of the Ruhr in 1923 to enforce German reparations payments, proved disastrous. But it did lead to almost a decade of accommodation and compromise with Germany over border guarantees, and to Germany’s admission to the League of Nations. The naming of Adolf Hitler as German chancellor in 1933, however, would put an end to all that.

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WWII & OCCUPATION

During most of the 1930s, the French, like the British, had done their best to appease Hitler. However, two days after the German invasion of Poland on 1 September 1939, Britain and France declared war on Germany. For the first nine months Parisians joked about le drôle de guerre – what Britons called ‘the phoney war’ – in which nothing happened. But the battle for France began in earnest in May 1940 and by 14 June France had capitulated. Paris was occupied, and almost half the population of just under five million fled the city by car, by bicycle or on foot. The British expeditionary force sent to help the French barely managed to avoid capture by retreating to Dunkirk, described so vividly in Ian McEwan’s Atonement (2001) and in a dreamlike sequence in Joe Wright’s 2007 film of the book, and crossing the English Channel in small boats. The Maginot Line, a supposedly impregnable wall of fortifications along the Franco-German border, had proved useless – the German armoured divisions simply outflanked it by going through Belgium.

The Germans divided France into a zone under direct German rule (along the western coast and the north, including Paris), and into a puppet-state based in the spa town of Vichy and led by General Philippe Pétain, the ageing WWI hero of the Battle of Verdun. Pétain’s collaborationist government, whose leaders and supporters assumed that the Nazis were Europe’s new masters and had to be accommodated, as well as French police forces in German-occupied areas (including Paris) helped the Nazis round up 160,000 French Jews and others for deportation to concentration and extermination camps in Germany and Poland. (In 2006 the state railway SNCF was found guilty of colluding in the deportation of Jews during WWII and was ordered to pay compensation to the families of two victims.)

After the fall of Paris, General Charles de Gaulle, France’s undersecretary of war, fled to London. In a radio broadcast on 18 June 1940, he appealed to French patriots to continue resisting the Germans. He set up a French government-in-exile and established the Forces Françaises Libres (Free French Forces), a military force dedicated to fighting the Germans.

The underground movement known as the Résistance (Resistance), whose active members never amounted to more than about 5% of the French population, engaged in such activities as sabotaging railways, collecting intelligence for the Allies, helping Allied airmen who had been shot down, and publishing anti-German leaflets. The vast majority of the rest of the population did little or nothing to resist the occupiers or assist their victims or were collaborators, such as the film stars Maurice Chevalier and Arletty, and the designer Coco Chanel.

The liberation of France began with the Allied landings in Normandy on D-day (Jour-J in French): 6 June 1944. On 15 August Allied forces also landed in southern France. After a brief insurrection by the Résistance, Paris was liberated on 25 August by an Allied force spearheaded by Free French units – these units were sent in ahead of the Americans so that the French would have the honour of liberating the capital the following day. Hitler, who visited Paris in June 1940 and loved it, ordered that the city be burned toward the end of the war. It was an order that, gratefully, had not been obeyed.

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POSTWAR INSTABILITY

De Gaulle returned to Paris and set up a provisional government, but in January 1946 he resigned as president, wrongly believing that the move would provoke a popular outcry for his return. A few months later, a new constitution was approved by referendum. De Gaulle formed his own party (Rassemblement du Peuple Française) and would spend the next 13 years in opposition.

The Fourth Republic was a period that saw unstable coalition cabinets follow one another with bewildering speed (on average, one every six months), and economic recovery that was helped immeasurably by massive American aid. France’s disastrous defeat at Dien Bien Phu in Vietnam in 1954 ended its colonial supremacy in Indochina. France also tried to suppress an uprising by Arab nationalists in Algeria, where over one million French settlers lived.

The Fourth Republic came to an end in 1958, when extreme right-wingers, furious at what they saw as defeatism rather than tough action in dealing with the uprising in Algeria, began conspiring to overthrow the government. De Gaulle was brought back to power to prevent a military coup and even possible civil war. He soon drafted a new constitution that gave considerable powers to the president at the expense of the National Assembly.

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CHARLES DE GAULLE & THE FIFTH REPUBLIC

The Fifth Republic was rocked in 1961 by an attempted coup staged in Algiers by a group of right-wing military officers. When it failed, the Organisation de l’Armée Secrète (OAS) – a group of French colons (colonists) and sympathisers opposed to Algerian independence – turned to terrorism, trying several times to assassinate de Gaulle and nearly succeeding in August 1962 in the Parisian suburb of Petit Clamart. The book and film The Day of the Jackal portrayed a fictional OAS attempt on de Gaulle’s life.

In 1962, after more than 12,000 had died as a result of this ‘civil war’, de Gaulle negotiated an end to the war in Algeria. Some 750,000 pied-noir (black feet), as Algerian-born French people are known in France, flooded into France and the capital. Meanwhile, almost all of the other French colonies and protectorates in Africa had demanded and achieved independence. Shrewdly, the French government began a programme of economic and military aid to its former colonies to bolster France’s waning importance internationally and to create a bloc of French-speaking nations – la francophonie – in the developing world.

Paris retained its position as a creative and intellectual centre, particularly in philosophy and film-making, and the 1960s saw large parts of the Marais beautifully restored. But the loss of the colonies, the surge in immigration, economic difficulties and an increase in unemployment weakened de Gaulle’s government.

In March 1968 a large demonstration in Paris against the war in Vietnam was led by student Daniel ‘Danny the Red’ Cohn-Bendit, who is today copresident of the Green/Free European Alliance Group in the European Parliament. This gave impetus to the student movement, and protests were staged throughout the spring. A seemingly insignificant incident in May 1968, in which police broke up yet another in a long series of demonstrations by students of the University of Paris, sparked a violent reaction on the streets of the capital; students occupied the Sorbonne and barricades were erected in the Latin Quarter. Workers joined in the protests and six million people across France participated in a general strike that virtually paralysed the country and the city. It was a period of much creativity and new ideas with slogans appearing everywhere, such as ‘L’Imagination au Pouvoir’ (Put Imagination in Power) and ‘Sous les Pavés, la Plage’ (Under the Cobblestones, the Beach), a reference to Parisians’ favoured material for building barricades and what they could expect to find beneath them.

The alliance between workers and students couldn’t last long. While the former wanted to reap greater benefits from the consumer market, the latter wanted (or at least said they wanted) to destroy it – and were called ‘fascist provocateurs’ and ‘mindless anarchists’ by the French Communist leadership. De Gaulle took advantage of this division and appealed to people’s fear of anarchy. Just as Paris and the rest of France seemed on the brink of revolution, 100,000 Gaullists demonstrated on the av des Champs-Élysées in support of the government and stability was restored.

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POMPIDOU TO CHIRAC

There is no underestimating the effect the student riots of 1968 had on France and the French people, and on the way they govern themselves today. After stability was restored the government made a number of immediate changes, including the decentralisation of the higher education system, and reforms (eg lowering the voting age to 18, an abortion law and workers’ self-management) continued through the 1970s, creating, in effect, the modern society that is France today.

President Charles de Gaulle resigned in 1969 and was succeeded by the Gaullist leader Georges Pompidou, who was in turn replaced by Valéry Giscard d’Estaing in 1974. François Mitterrand, long-time head of the Partie Socialiste (PS), was elected president in 1981 and, as the business community had feared, immediately set out to nationalise privately owned banks, large industrial groups and various other parts of the economy. However, during the mid-1980s Mitterrand followed a generally moderate economic policy and in 1988, aged 69, he was re-elected for a second seven-year term.

In the 1986 parliamentary elections the right-wing opposition led by Jacques Chirac, mayor of Paris since 1977, received a majority in the National Assembly; for the next two years Mitterrand was forced to work with a prime minister and cabinet from the opposition, an unprecedented arrangement in French governance known as cohabitation.

In the May 1995 presidential elections Chirac enjoyed a comfortable victory (Mitterrand, who would die in January 1996, decided not to run again because of failing health). In his first few months in office Chirac received high marks for his direct words and actions in matters relating to the EU and the war in Bosnia. His cabinet choices, including the selection of ‘whiz kid’ foreign minister Alain Juppé as prime minister, were well received. But Chirac’s decision to resume nuclear testing on the French Polynesian island of Mururoa and a nearby atoll was met with outrage in France and abroad. On the home front, Chirac’s moves to restrict welfare payments (designed to bring France closer to meeting the criteria for the European Monetary Union; EMU) led to the largest protests since 1968. For three weeks in late 1995 Paris was crippled by public-sector strikes, battering the economy.

In 1997 Chirac took a big gamble and called an early parliamentary election for June. The move backfired. Chirac remained president but his party, the Rassemblement Pour la République (RPR; Rally for the Republic), lost support, and a coalition of Socialists, Communists and Greens came to power. Lionel Jospin, a former minister of education in the Mitterrand government (who, most notably, promised the French people a shorter working week for the same pay), became prime minister. France had once again entered into a period of cohabitation – with Chirac on the other side of the table this time around.


top picks
HISTORICAL READS
 
  • Paris: The Secret History, Andrew Hussey (2006) – a book not unlike Peter Ackroyd’s London: The Biography, this colourful historical tour of Paris opens the door to (but does not solve) many of the city’s mysteries.
  • Paris Changing, Christopher Rauschenberg (2007) – modern-day photographer follows in the footsteps of early-20th-century snapper Eugène Atget in this ‘spot the difference’ album of before-and-after photos.
  • The Flâneur: A Stroll Through the Paradoxes of Paris, Edmund White (2001) – doyen of American literature and long-term resident (and flâneur – ‘stroller’) of Paris, White notices things rarely noticed by others – veritable footnotes of footnotes – in this loving portrait of his adopted city.
  • The Seven Ages of Paris: Portrait of a City, Alistair Horne (2002) – this superb, very idiosyncratic ‘biography’ of Paris divides the city’s history into seven ages – from the 13th-century reign of Philippe-Auguste to President Charles de Gaulle’s retirement in 1969.
  • Is Paris Burning? Larry Collins & Dominique Lapierre (1965) – this is a tense and very intelligent reportage of the last days of the Nazi occupation of Paris.
  • Paris: The Biography of a City, Colin Jones (2005) – although written by a University of Warwick professor, this one-volume history is not at all academic. Instead, it’s rather chatty, and goes into much detail on the physical remains of history as the author walks the reader through the centuries and the city.
  • Cross Channel, Julien Barnes (1997) – This is a witty collection of key moments in shared Anglo-French history – from Joan of Arc to a trip via Eurostar from London to Paris – by one of Britain’s most talented novelists.

For the most part Jospin and his government continued to enjoy the electorate’s approval, thanks largely to a recovery in economic growth and the introduction of a 35-hour working week, which created thousands of (primarily part-time) jobs. But this period of cohabitation, the longest-lasting government in the history of the Fifth Republic, ended in May 2002 when Chirac was returned to the presidency for a second five-year term with 82% of the vote. This reflected less Chirac’s popularity than the fear of Jean-Marie Le Pen, leader of the right-wing Front National, who had garnered nearly 17% of the first round of voting against Chirac’s 20%.

Chirac appointed Jean-Pierre Raffarin, a popular regional politician, as prime minister and pledged to lower taxes with declining revenues from a sluggish economy. But in May 2005 the electorate handed Chirac an embarrassing defeat when it overwhelmingly rejected, by referendum, the international treaty that was to create a constitution for the EU.

In the autumn of the same year riots broke out in Paris’ cités, the enormous housing estates or projects encircling the capital, home to a dispossessed population of mostly blacks and Muslims. In some of the worst violence seen since WWII, there thankfully was no deaths but 3000 arrests and millions of euros in property damage. Parisians began to talk about and debate ethnic origin and affirmative action but this remained essentially a problem ‘out there’ in the banlieues (suburbs).

The trouble became more central – both literally and figuratively – in March 2006 after parliament passed the controversial Contrat de Première Embauche (CPE; First Employment Contract). Supporters argued that the plan would reduce unemployment by 20% while detractors said it would encourage a regular turnover of cut-rate staff and not allow young people to build careers. The majority of the nation’s universities went on strike, workers and students mobilised and 1.5 million protesters took to the streets nationwide. In Paris, demonstrators torched cars and clashed with police, who responded with tear gas and water cannons. The government decided to withdraw the CPE altogether later in 2006.

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PARIS TODAY

With this backdrop it came as no surprise that Prime Minister Dominique de Villepin, President Chirac’s loyal henchman and heir apparent who had never even been elected to public office, did not even make it to the first post in the national elections of spring 2007. Instead, the get-tough Interior Minister Nicolas ‘Sarko’ Sarkozy, who famously fanned the flames during the 2005 race riots by calling the rioters racaille (rabble or riffraff) and whose loyalty to Chirac seemed to blow with the prevailing wind, stood as the UMP (Union for a Popular Movement) candidate against Socialist Ségolène ‘Ségo’ Royal, who appeared to be the left’s only hope of ending a dozen years of right-wing incumbency. Neither candidate received an absolute majority in the first round of voting but in the second Sarkozy took 53% of the popular vote.

In his first year as president, Sarkozy succeeded where his predecessors failed in getting unions and employee groups to compromise on benefits and saw the national unemployment rate fall to 7.5%, the lowest level in more than two decades. But many of even his staunchest supporters were less than impressed with his performance and his popularity in the polls one year on stood at less than 40% (against 67% just after the May 2007 election). That’s partly due to what the French now calling peopolisation, another Anglo-French neologism, this one meaning excessive media interest in and coverage of politicians’ private lives. Mind you, Sarkozy’s divorcing his wife of 18 years just three months after taking office and his subsequent marriage to Italian-French model/pop singer Carla Bruni would have tongues wagging in even the most taciturn of societies. Indeed, his well-publicised holidays with the rich and famous and what some French people see as his extravagance have earned him the sobriquet ‘President Bling-Bling’, a reference to an American hip-hop term meaning showy, often crass jewellery. Waiting in the wings are the Socialists, encouraged by their successes in the March 2008 local elections, which included holding on to the power base of Paris. But will it be a replay of the ‘Sarko-Ségo’ show next time around in 2012, or will the president be eclipsed by Mayor Bertrand Delanoë’s rising star?


STAR-CROSSED LOVERS
He was a brilliant 39-year-old philosopher and logician who had gained a reputation for his controversial ideas. She was the beautiful niece of a canon at Notre Dame. And like Bogart and Bergman in Casablanca and Romeo and Juliet in Verona, they had to fall in love in medieval Paris of all damned times and places.
In 1118, the wandering scholar Pierre Abélard (1079–1142) found his way to Paris, having clashed with yet another theologian in the provinces. There he was employed by Canon Fulbert of Notre Dame to tutor his niece Héloïse (1101–64). One thing led to another and a son, Astrolabe, was born. Abélard did the gentlemanly thing and married his sweetheart. But they wed in secret and when Fulbert learned of it he was outraged. The canon had Abélard castrated and sent Héloïse packing to a nunnery. Abélard took monastic vows at the abbey in St-Denis and continued his studies and controversial writings. Héloïse, meanwhile, was made abbess of a convent.
All the while, however, the star-crossed lovers continued to correspond: he sending tender advice on how to run the convent and she writing passionate, poetic letters to her lost lover. The two were reunited only in death; in 1817 their remains were disinterred and brought to Père Lachaise cemetery Click here in the 20e, where they lie together beneath a neo-Gothic tombstone in Division 7.

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ARTS

Paris is a bottomless well when it comes to the arts. There are philharmonic orchestras, ballet and opera troupes, theatre companies and copious cinemas from which to choose your art form. And its museums are among the richest in the world, with artwork representing the best of every historical period and school from the Romans to postmodernism. Generous government funding allows local venues to attract top international performers, and the number of international arts festivals hosted here seems to grow each year.

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LITERATURE

Literature is something that matters deeply to French people, and it is an important focus in their sense of identity. Problem is, nowadays there are no schools or clear literary trends emerging, some authors are impossible to read and, relatively speaking, little contemporary literature finds its way into English translation. Much French writing today tends to focus in a rather nihilistic way on what the nation has lost in recent decades (such as identity, international prestige etc), particularly in the work of Michel Houellebecq, who rose to national prominence in 1998 with his Les Particules Élémentaires (Atomised). And accessibility? In 2002 the winner of the Prix Goncourt (Goncourt Prize; boxed text) – Les Ombres Errantes by Pascal Quignard – was denounced even by some of the prestigious prize’s judges as ‘over-erudite’ and ‘inaccessible’ to the average reader.

Such novels do not help the traveller get into the head of Paris, to see and feel how the city thinks and works. For now perhaps it is better to stick with the classics of French literature or even those writers who are more descriptive and thus accessible. The roman policier (detective novel), for example, has always been a great favourite with the French, and among its greatest exponents has been Belgian-born Georges Simenon, author of the Inspector Maigret novels. La Nuit du Carrefour (Maigret at the Crossroads) portrays Montmartre at its 1930s sleaziest and seediest best. And then there are the works of all those foreigners, such as Gertrude Stein and George Orwell and, more recently, Cara Black.

Going back in time, in the history of early medieval French literature Paris does not figure largely, though the misadventures of Pierre Abélard and Héloïse (boxed text) took place in the capital as did their mutual correspondence, which ended only with their deaths. And here they lie.

François Villon, considered the finest poet – in any language – of the late Middle Ages, received the equivalent of a Master of Arts degree from the Sorbonne before he turned 20 years of age. Involved in a series of brawls, robberies and generally illicit escapades, ‘Master Villon’ (as he became known) was sentenced to be hanged in 1462 supposedly for stabbing a lawyer. However, the sentence was commuted to banishment from Paris for 10 years, and he disappeared forever. As well as a long police record, Villon left behind a body of poems charged with a highly personal lyricism, among them the Ballade des Pendus (Ballad of the Hanged Men), in which he writes his own epitaph, and the Ballade des Femmes du Temps Jadis, which was translated by the English poet and painter Dante Gabriel Rossetti as the ‘Ballad of Dead Ladies’.

The great landmarks of French Renaissance literature are the works of François Rabelais, Pierre de Ronsard and other poets of the group referred to as of La Pléiade and Michel de Montaigne. The exuberant narratives of the erstwhile monk Rabelais blend coarse humour with erudition in a vast œuvre that seems to include every kind of person, occupation and jargon to be found in the France of the mid-16th century. Rabelais had friends in high places in Paris, including Archbishop Jean du Bellay, whom he accompanied to Rome on two occasions. But some of Rabelais’ friends and associates fell afoul of the clergy, including his publisher Étienne Dolet. After being convicted of heresy and blasphemy in 1546, Dolet was hanged and then burned at place Maubert in the 5e arrondissement.

During the 17th century, François de Malherbe, court poet under Henri IV, brought a new rigour to the treatment of rhythm in literature. One of his better-known works is his sycophantic Ode (1600) to Marie de Médici. Transported by the perfection of Malherbe’s verses, Jean de La Fontaine went on to write his charming Fables in the manner of Aesop – though he fell afoul of the Académie Française (French Academy) in the process. The mood of classical tragedy permeates La Princesse de Clèves by Marie de La Fayette, which is widely regarded as the precursor of the modern character novel.


top picks
BOOKS ABOUT PARISIANS & THE FRENCH
 
  • An Englishman in Paris: L’Éducation Continentale, Michael Sadler (2003) – rollicking, very funny (mis)adventures of a self-proclaimed Francophile teacher in the City of Light with a preface from Peter Mayle.
  • Culture Shock France, Sally Adamson Taylor (2005) – subtitled ‘A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette’, this was the first (and remains the best) introductory handbook to France and its foibles, Parisians and their peculiarities.
  • The Last Time I Saw Paris, Elliot Paul (2001) – a superb classic work by an American expat that looks back on the working-class Paris of the interwar years in a series of interwoven episodes.
  • The French, Theodore Zeldin (1983) – dated but highly acclaimed survey of French passions, peculiarities and perspectives by British scholar now advising the Sarkozy government.
  • Un Peu de Paris, Jean-Jacques Sempé (2001) – wordless, very gentle portrait of Paris and Parisians in cartoons from a national institution whose work appears frequently in The New Yorker.
  • Savoir Flair, Polly Platt (2000) – subtitled ‘211 Tips for Enjoying France and the French’, this book by a 30-year Paris expat resident will help you understand what makes the French tick.
  • Paris in Mind, Jennifer Lee (2003) – an anthology of essays and excerpts by 29 American writers – from Edith Wharton and James Baldwin to David Sedaris and Dave Barry (who discusses how to pronounce the French ‘r’).
  • Sixty Million Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong, Jean-Benoit Nadeau and Julie Barlow (2003) – a Paris-based Canadian journalist couple explains the essence of what it means to be French and how they got to be the way they are.
  • The House in Paris, Elizabeth Bowen (1949) – Paris through the eyes and ears of an 11-year-old English girl sequestered for 24 hours in a Parisian townhouse. Dark, evocative, classic.

The literature of the 18th century is dominated by philosophers (Click here), among them Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet) and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Voltaire’s political writings, arguing that society is fundamentally opposed to nature, had a profound and lasting influence on the century, and he is buried in the Panthéon. Rousseau’s sensitivity to landscape and its moods anticipate romanticism, and the insistence on his own singularity in Les Confessions made it the first modern autobiography. He, too, is buried in the Panthéon.

The 19th century brought Victor Hugo, as much acclaimed for his poetry as for his novels, who lived on the place des Vosges before fleeing to the Channel Islands during the Second Empire. Les Misérables (1862) describes life among the poor and marginalised of Paris during the first half of the 19th century; the 20-page flight of the central character, Jean Valjean, through the sewers of the capital is memorable. Notre Dame de Paris (The Hunchback of Notre Dame; 1831), a medieval romance and tragedy revolving around the life of the celebrated cathedral, made Hugo the key figure of French romanticism.

Other influential 19th-century novelists include Stendhal (Marie-Henri Beyle), Honoré de Balzac, Amandine Aurore Lucile Dupin (better known as George Sand) and, of course, Alexandre Dumas, who wrote the swashbuckling adventures Le Compte de Monte Cristo (The Count of Monte Cristo) and Les Trois Mousquetaires (The Three Musketeers). The latter tells the story of d’Artagnan (based on the historical personage Charles de Baatz d’Artagnan, 1623–73), who arrives in Paris as a young Gascon determined to become one of the guardsmen of Louis XIII.

In 1857 two landmarks of French literature were published in book form: Madame Bovary by Gustave Flaubert and Les Fleurs du Mal by Charles Baudelaire. Both writers were tried for the supposed immorality of their works. Flaubert won his case, and his novel was distributed without censorship. Baudelaire, who moonlighted as a translator in Paris (he introduced the works of the American writer Edgar Allan Poe to Europe in editions that have since become classics of English-to-French translation), was obliged to cut a half-dozen poems from his work and was fined 300 francs, and he died an early and painful death, practically unknown. Flaubert’s second-most popular novel, L’Éducation Sentimentale (Sentimental Education), presents a vivid picture of life among Parisian dilettantes, intellectuals and revolutionaries during the decline and fall of Louis-Philippe’s monarchy and the February Revolution of 1848.


CARA BLACK
Cara Black (www.carablack.com), who divides her time between Paris and San Francisco, is the author of a best-selling murder-by-arrondissement series set in Paris and featuring the intrepid, half-French-half-American sleuth Aimée Leduc. The latest is Murder in the Rue de Paradis.
A Francophile from California... How does that work? Francophilia goes way back. I had French nuns in school, my uncle studied under Georges Braque on the GI Bill after the war and in 1971, while travelling through Paris, I went to Rue du Bac and knocked on the door of my favourite writer, [two-times Prix Goncourt winner] Romain Gary. He invited me to his café for an espresso and a cigar. We both had both.
Ah, smoke – but fire? All this murder and darkness in the City of Light? That all came about much later, in 1993. I was walking around the place des Vosges and remembered a visit to Paris almost a decade before when I stayed with my friend Sarah. She had taken me on a tour of the pregentrified Marais and shown me the ancient abandoned building where her Jewish mother had hidden during the war and from where the rest of the family had been deported to Auschwitz. The idea for my first book Murder in the Marais came to me on the plane going home.
Does your research get down and dirty? I crawl under buildings, explore restrooms in old cafés, visit ghost metro stations, go down into the city sewers and even the tunnels under the Palais Royal. I interview police – I’m one of only two American women writers to have spent time in the Préfecture – and private detectives. Some of them have become friends and I take them to dinner.
Now we’re cooking! What’s on the menu? Murder most fowl? Steak saignant (‘bleeding’, or rare)? Anything but the écrévisse [freshwater crayfish] that come from the Seine. They feed on corpses. I discovered that while researching Murder on the Île Saint-Louis. One restaurant was still selling them.
Why are you always Right and not Left? How about murder in the sexy 6e or the louche Latin Quarter? I don’t write about the Paris of tourists, where people wear berets and carry baguettes. I’m not really comfortable on the Left Bank. I feel better where my friends live – the Marais, Belleville, Montmartre. I understand these places better.
I wish I could... Tie a scarf the way French women do.
I wish I hadn’t... Buried Baudelaire in Père Lachaise cemetery. He’s actually in Montparnasse.
I’ll always come back to Paris for... Hot chocolate at Ladurée, bicycle rides along the Canal St-Martin, the old stones of the Place des Vosges and the ghosts. Paris is full of ghosts and they communicate. You only need listen.
Interviewed by Steve Fallon


STRANGERS IN PARIS
Foreigners (étrangers, or strangers, to the French) have found inspiration in Paris since Charles Dickens used the city alongside London as the backdrop to his novel on the French Revolution, A Tale of Two Cities, in 1859. The glory days of Paris as a literary setting, however, were without a doubt the interwar years Click here.
Both Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises and A Moveable Feast portray bohemian life in Paris between the wars; many of the vignettes in the latter – dissing Ford Maddox Ford in a café, ‘sizing up’ F Scott Fitzgerald in a toilet in the Latin Quarter and overhearing Gertrude Stein and her lover, Alice B Toklas, bitchin’ at one another from the sitting room of their salon near the Jardin du Luxembourg – are classic and très parisien.
Language guru Stein, who could be so tiresome with her wordplays and endless repetitions (‘A rose is a rose is a rose’, ‘Pigeons on the grass, alas’) in books like The Making of Americans, was able to let her hair down by assuming her lover’s identity in The Autobiography of Alice B Toklas. It’s a fascinating account of the author’s many years in Paris, her salon on the rue de Fleurus in the 6e and her friendships with Matisse, Picasso, Braque, Hemingway and others. It’s also where you’ll find that classic recipe for hashish brownies. Stein’s Wars I Have Seen is a personal account of life in German-occupied Paris.
Down and Out in Paris and London is George Orwell’s account of the time he spent working as a plongeur (dishwasher) in Paris and living with tramps in Paris and London in the early 1930s. Both Tropic of Cancer and Quiet Days in Clichy by Henry Miller are steamy novels set partly in the French capital. Mention should also be made of Anaïs Nin’s voluminous diaries and fiction, especially her published correspondence with Miller, which is highly evocative of 1930s Paris.
For a taste of Paris in the 1950s try Giovanni’s Room, James Baldwin’s poignant account of a young American in Paris who falls in love with an Italian bartender, and his struggle with his sexuality. Satori in Paris by Jack Kerouac is the sometimes entertaining (eg the scene in the Montparnasse gangster bar) but often irritating account of the American Beat writer’s last trip to France.

The aim of Émile Zola, who came to Paris with his close friend Paul Cézanne in 1858, was to transform novel-writing from an art to a science by the application of experimentation. His theory may now seem naive, but his work influenced most significant French writers of the late 19th century and is reflected in much 20th-century fiction as well. His novel Nana tells the decadent tale of a young woman who resorts to prostitution to survive the Paris of the Second Empire.

Paul Verlaine and Stéphane Mallarmé created the symbolist movement, which strove to express states of mind rather than simply detail daily reality. Arthur Rimbaud, apart from crowding an extraordinary amount of exotic travel into his 37 years and having a tempestuous sexual relationship with Verlaine, produced two enduring pieces of work: Illuminations and Une Saison en Enfer (A Season in Hell). Rimbaud stopped writing and deserted Europe for Africa in 1874, never to return. Verlaine died at 39 rue Descartes (5e) in 1896.

Marcel Proust dominated the early 20th century with his giant seven-volume novel À la Recherche du Temps Perdu (Remembrance of Things Past), which is largely autobiographical and explores in evocative detail the true meaning of past experience recovered from the unconscious by ‘involuntary memory’. In 1907 Proust moved from the family home near av des Champs-Élysées to the apartment on blvd Haussmann that was famous for its cork-lined bedroom (now on display at the Musée Carnavalet in the Marais, Click here) from which he almost never stirred. André Gide found his voice in the celebration of gay sensuality and, later, left-wing politics. Les Faux-Monnayeurs (The Counterfeiters) exposes the hypocrisy and self-deception to which people resort in order to fit in or deceive themselves.

André Breton led the group of French surrealists and wrote its three manifestos, although the first use of the word ‘surrealist’ is attributed to the poet Guillaume Apollinaire, a fellow traveller of surrealism who was killed in action in WWI. As a poet, Breton was overshadowed by Paul Éluard and Louis Aragon, whose most famous surrealist novel was Le Paysan de Paris (Nightwalker). Colette (Sidonie-Gabriel Colette) enjoyed tweaking the nose of conventionally moral readers with titillating novels that detailed the amorous exploits of such heroines as the schoolgirl Claudine. Her best-known work is Gigi but far more interesting is Paris de Ma Fenêtre (Paris from My Window), dealing with the German occupation of Paris. Her view, by the way, was from 9 rue de Beaujolais in the 1er, overlooking the Jardin du Palais Royal.

After WWII, existentialism developed as a significant literary movement around Jean-Paul Sartre (Click here), Simone de Beauvoir and Albert Camus, who worked and conversed in the cafés of blvd St-Germain in the 6e. All three stressed the importance of the writer’s political engagement. L’Âge de Raison (The Age of Reason), the first volume of Sartre’s trilogy Les Chemins de la Liberté (The Roads to Freedom), is a superb Parisian novel; the subsequent volumes recall Paris immediately before and during WWII. De Beauvoir, author of Le Deuxième Sexe (The Second Sex), had a profound influence on feminist thinking. Camus’ novel L’Étranger (The Stranger) reveals that the absurd is the condition of modern man, who feels himself a stranger – more accurately translated as ‘outsider’ in English – in his world.

In the late 1950s certain novelists began to look for new ways of organising narrative. The so-called nouveau roman (new novel) refers to the works of Nathalie Sarraute, Alain Robbe-Grillet, Boris Vian, Julien Gracq, Michel Butor and others. However, these writers never formed a close-knit group, and their experiments took them in divergent directions. Today the nouveau roman is very much out of favour in France though the authors’ names often appear in print and conversation.

Mention must also be made of Histoire d’O (Story of O), the highly erotic sadomasochistic novel written by Dominique Aury under a pseudonym in 1954. It sold more copies than any other contemporary French novel outside France.

In 1980 Marguerite Yourcenar, best known for her memorable historical novels such as Mémoires d’Hadrien (Hadrian’s Memoirs), became the first woman to be elected to the Académie Française. Several years later Marguerite Duras came to the notice of a larger public when she won the Prix Goncourt (boxed text) for her novel L’Amant (The Lover) in 1984.

Philippe Sollers was one of the editors of Tel Quel, a highbrow, then left-wing, Paris-based review that was very influential in the 1960s and early 1970s. His 1960s novels were highly experimental, but with Femmes (Women) he returned to a conventional narrative style.

Another editor of Tel Quel was Julia Kristeva, best known for her theoretical writings on literature and psychoanalysis. In recent years she has turned her hand to fiction, and Les Samuraï (The Samurai; 1990), a fictionalised account of the heady days of Tel Quel, is an interesting document on the life of the Paris intelligentsia. Roland Barthes and Michel Foucault are other authors and philosophers associated with the 1960s and ’70s.

So-called accessible contemporary authors who enjoy a wide following include Patrick Modiano, Yann Queffélec, Pascal Quignard, Denis Tillinac and Nicole de Buron, a very popular mainstream humour writer whose books sell in the hundreds of thousands. Fred Vargas is a popular writer of crime fiction.

More-serious authors whose careers and works are closely scrutinised by the literary establishment and the well-read include Jean Echenoz, Nina Bouraoui, Jean-Philippe Toussaint, Annie Ernaux and Erik Orsenna. Others are Christine Angot, ‘la reine de l’autofiction’ famous for her autobiographical novels, the best-selling novelist Marc Levy, and Yasmina Khadra, a former colonel in the Algerian army who adopted his wife’s name as a nom de plume.

Two recent winners of the Prix Goncourt have been controversial for rather less-than-literary reasons. Jonathan Littell, who took the prize in 2006 for Les Bienveillantes, is actually a New York–born American, though he was largely educated in France and writes in French. And it wasn’t enough that the original title of Gilles Leroy’s award-winning Alabama Song was in English, the theme – the story of the descent into madness of Zelda Fitzgerald, wife of novelist F Scott Fitzgerald and written in the first person – is centred squarely on the other side of the puddle.


AND THE WINNER IS…
Like the UK’s Booker or the Pulitzer in the USA, the Prix Goncourt (Goncourt Prize) is the most highly respected and coveted literary prize in France, awarded annually since 1903 to the best volume of imaginative work in prose published during that year. In the event of a tie, novels are to be given preference over collections of short stories or sketches. The winner is announced by the 10-strong Académie Goncourt each year at the Drouant, a swanky restaurant in the 2e arrondissement. Though the prize comes with a purse of less than €10, it guarantees much media attention and soaring sales.
Among writers who have won the Prix Goncourt in the past and are still read are Marcel Proust (1919), André Malraux (1933), Julien Gracq (1951), Simone de Beauvoir (1954) and Marguerite Duras (1984). Winners in recent years:
2002 Pascal Quignard, Les Ombres Errantes (Wandering Shadows)
2003 Jacques-Pierre Amette, La Maîtresse de Brecht (Brecht’s Mistress)
2004 Laurent Gaudé, Le Soleil des Scorta (The House of Scorta)
2005 François Weyergans, Trois Jours chez Ma Mère (Three Days at My Mother’s)
2006 Jonathan Littell, Les Bienveillantes (The Kindly Ones)
2007 Gilles Leroy, Alabama Song

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PHILOSOPHY

France may be one of the few countries in the world to require its secondary-school students to demonstrate a solid mastery of philosophical concepts before pursuing an academic career. Forced to expostulate upon such brain ticklers as ‘Can demands for justice be separated from demands for liberty?’ (discuss) or ‘Do passions prevent us from doing our duty?’ (elaborate) in order to receive a baccalauréat (school-leaving certificate), many people here develop a lifelong passion for philosophical discourse. Most French towns of any size have at least one bar or café that will sponsor a regular ‘philocafé’ in which anyone may contribute their ideas on a particular philosophical question; in Paris one of the most popular philocafés is at Café des Phares, which goes into debate from 11am to 1pm on Sunday.

Left Bank philosophers Bernard-Henri Levy, Jean-François Revel, André Glucksmann and the late Marc Sautet, who founded the Café des Phares and died in 1998 at the age of 51, have achieved a level of celebrity normally reserved for film stars. Even politicians are expected to show a philosophical bent. In 2003 then Foreign (and later Prime) Minister Dominique de Villepin quietly published Éloge des Voleurs de Feu (translated as ‘On Poetry’), an 824-page critique and homage to such ‘Promethean rebels’ as Villon and Rimbaud in French poetry.

René Descartes, who lived in the first half of the 17th century, was the founder of modern philosophy and one of the greatest thinkers since Aristotle. After making important contributions to analytical geometry and algebra, Descartes sought to establish certainty from a position of absolute doubt. Descartes’ famed aphorism ‘Cogito, ergo sum’ (I think, therefore I am) is the basis of modern philosophical thought. His method and systems of thought came to be known as Cartesianism. In positing that there is an external reality that can be grasped through reason, Descartes rendered possible the development of modern science.

Blaise Pascal, a contemporary of Descartes, was also a mathematician, but addressed the absurdity of the human predicament in a manner that foreshadowed the existentialists of the 20th century. Pascal’s central concern was in reconciling his religious devotion – he was a convert to Jansenism, an almost Calvinist branch of Roman Catholicism – with his scientific background. Thus, in Pensées (Thoughts) he put forth ‘Pascal’s Razor’, which stated that the most logical approach is to believe in God. If God does not exist, one has lost nothing; if God does exist one has assured oneself of a favourable afterlife. The difficulty in this argument is that it makes it possible to argue that one should believe in all religions.

As one of the major thinkers of the 18th century, the so-called Age of Enlightenment, Jean-Jacques Rousseau addressed the relationship of the individual to society. His 1762 work Le Contrat Social (The Social Contract) laid the foundations for modern democracy by arguing that sovereignty resides with the people who express their will through majority vote. Liberty is an inalienable ‘natural’ right that cannot be exchanged for civil peace.

In the late 19th century the philosopher Henri Bergson abandoned reason as a tool towards discovering the truth, arguing that direct intuition is deeper than intellect. He developed the concept of élan vital (creative impulse), a spirit of energy and life that moves all living things, as the heart of evolution – not Darwin’s theory of natural selection. His thoughts about the subjective experience of time greatly influenced his brother-in-law, Marcel Proust, and the writer’s À la Recherche du Temps Perdu (Remembrance of Things Past;).

The 20th century’s most famous French thinker was Jean-Paul Sartre, the quintessential Parisian intellectual who was born in the capital in 1905 and died there in 1980. For most people he embodied an obscure idea known as existentialism. It’s one of the great ‘isms’ of popular culture, but even philosophers have trouble explaining what existentialism really means. The word derives from Sartre’s statement, ‘Existence precedes (or, more accurately in English, takes priority over) essence’, meaning that man must create himself because there is no eternal ‘natural self’ or ‘meaning of life’. Realising that there is no meaning of life provokes ‘existential dread’ and ‘alienation’.

Simone de Beauvoir, Sartre’s lifelong companion, applied existentialist concepts to the predicament of women in French society. There is no essential ‘female’ or ‘male’ nature, she opined in her seminal work Le Deuxième Sexe (The Second Sex), published in 1949. According to Beauvoir, women’s status as the perpetual ‘other’ relegates them to remaining ‘objects’ of the subjective male gaze.

Sartre and de Beauvoir were strong advocates of communism until 1956 and the Soviet invasion of Hungary. Disillusionment with communism and with the political engagement implied by existentialism led a new generation towards the social science called structuralism. Coined by the anthropologist Claude Levi-Strauss, structuralists believe that sociological, psychological and linguistic structures shape individuals. Individuals do not shape themselves as the existentialists believe. Beginning as a scientific method for studying differences between cultures, structuralism soon came to represent a rejection of all the universal ideas – reason, progress, democracy – that had held sway since the Age of Enlightenment.

As a poststructuralist, Michel Foucault rejected the idea that it was possible to step outside the ‘discursive practices’ that claim to reveal knowledge and arrive at an ultimate truth. The search for knowledge cannot be separated from the power relationships that lie at the heart of every social and political relationship.

Jacques Derrida, first published in the influential Tel Quel Click here in the 1960s, introduced the concept of deconstructionism. This concept suggests that outside language there is nothing to which we can refer directly, since all language is indicative only of itself (il n’y a pas de hors-texte – there is no subtext). So knowledge outside of language is literally unthinkable; it is not a natural reflection of the world. Each text allows for multiple interpretations, making it impossible to find certainty in textual analysis. But deconstructionism posed an obvious paradox: how can one use language to claim that language is meaningless?

In recent decades French philosophers have returned to political commitment and moral philosophy. Bernard-Henri Levy was an outspoken critic of the war in Bosnia and made several films on the subject in the 1990s. Known as France’s No 1 ‘anti-anti-Americanist’, Levy’s recent (and most popular work in English) is American Vertigo: Travelling America in the Footsteps of Tocqueville (2006), in which he follows in the footsteps of his compatriot and forerunner, Alexis de Tocqueville, crisscrossing America and commenting on the state of the union. André Glucksmann’s Ouest contre Ouest (West against West; 2003) looked at the Iraq war and the paradox that those groups for and against the war both claimed to be inspired by the same principles. In fact he was one of the few French intellectuals to back the invasion of Iraq. He supported Sarkozy in the 2007 national elections.

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PAINTING

The philosopher Voltaire wrote that French painting began with Nicolas Poussin, the greatest representative of 17th-century classicism who frequently set scenes from ancient Rome, classical mythology and the Bible in ordered landscapes bathed in golden light. It’s not a bad starting point.

In the 18th century Jean-Baptiste Chardin brought the humbler domesticity of the Dutch masters to French art. In 1785 the public reacted with enthusiasm to two large paintings with clear republican messages: The Oath of the Horatii and Brutus Condemning His Son by Jacques-Louis David. David became one of the leaders of the French Revolution, and a virtual dictator in matters of art, where he advocated a precise, severe classicism. He was made official state painter by Napoleon Bonaparte, glorifying him as general, first consul and then emperor, and is best remembered for his Death of Marat, depicting the Jacobin propagandist lying dead in his bath.

Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres, David’s most gifted pupil in Paris, continued in the neoclassical tradition. The historical pictures to which he devoted most of his life (eg Oedipus and the Sphinx) are now generally regarded as inferior to his portraits. The name of Ingres, who played the violin for enjoyment, lives on in the phrase violon d’Ingres, which means ‘hobby’ in French.

The gripping Raft of the Medusa by Théodore Géricault is on the threshold of romanticism; if Géricault had not died early aged 33 he would probably have become a leader of the movement, along with his friend Eugène Delacroix. Delacroix’s most famous – if not best – work is Liberty Leading the People, which commemorates the July Revolution of 1830 Click here.

The members of the Barbizon School brought about a parallel transformation of landscape painting. The school derived its name from a village near the Forêt de Fontainebleau (Forest of Fontainebleau;), where Camille Corot and Jean-François Millet, among others, gathered to paint en plein air (in the open air). Corot is best known for his landscapes (The Bridge at Nantes, Chartres Cathedral); Millet took many of his subjects from peasant life (The Gleaners) and had a great influence on Van Gogh.

Millet anticipated the realist programme of Gustave Courbet, a prominent member of the Paris Commune (he was accused of – and imprisoned for – destroying the Vendôme Column), whose paintings show the drudgery of manual labour and dignity of ordinary life (Funeral at Ornans, The Angelus).

Édouard Manet used realism to depict the life of the Parisian middle classes, yet he included in his pictures numerous references to the Old Masters. His Déjeuner sur l’Herbe and Olympia both were considered scandalous, largely because they broke with the traditional treatment of their subject matter.

Impressionism, initially a term of derision, was taken from the title of an 1874 experimental painting by Claude Monet, Impression: Soleil Levant (Impression: Sunrise). Monet was the leading figure of the school, which counted among its members Alfred Sisley, Camille Pissarro, Pierre-Auguste Renoir and Berthe Morisot. The impressionists’ main aim was to capture the effects of fleeting light, painting almost universally in the open air – and light came to dominate the content of their painting.

Edgar Degas was a fellow traveller of the impressionists, but he preferred painting at the racecourse (At the Races) and in ballet studios (The Dance Class) than the great outdoors. Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec was a great admirer of Degas, but chose subjects one or two notches below: people in the bistros, brothels and music halls of Montmartre (eg Au Moulin Rouge). He is best known for his posters and lithographs, in which the distortion of the figures is both satirical and decorative.

Paul Cézanne is celebrated for his still lifes and landscapes depicting the south of France, though he spent many years in Paris after breaking with the impressionists. The name of Paul Gauguin immediately conjures up studies of Tahitian and Breton women. Both painters are usually referred to as postimpressionists, something of a catch-all term for the diverse styles that flowed from impressionism.

In the late 19th century Gauguin worked for a time in Arles in Provence with the Dutch-born Vincent Van Gogh, who spent most of his painting life in France and died in the town of Auvers-sur-Oise north of Paris in 1890. A brilliant, innovative artist, Van Gogh produced haunting self-portraits and landscapes in which bold colour assumes an expressive and emotive quality.

Van Gogh’s later technique paralleled pointillism, developed by Georges Seurat, who applied paint in small dots or uniform brush strokes of unmixed colour, producing fine mosaics of warm and cool tones in such tableaux as Une Baignade, Asnières (Bathers at Asnières). Henri Rousseau was a contemporary of the postimpressionists but his ‘naive’ art was totally unaffected by them. His dreamlike pictures of the Paris suburbs and of jungle and desert scenes (eg The Snake Charmer) have had a lasting influence on art right up to this century.

Gustave Moreau was a member of the symbolist school. His eerie treatment of mythological subjects can be seen in his old studio, which is now the Musée National Gustave Moreau in the 9e. Fauvism took its name from the slight of a critic who compared the exhibitors at the 1905 Salon d’Automne (Autumn Salon) with fauves (beasts) because of their radical use of intensely bright colours. Among these ‘beastly’ painters were Henri Matisse, André Derain and Maurice de Vlaminck.

Cubism was effectively launched in 1907 with Les Demoiselles d’Avignon by the Spanish prodigy Pablo Picasso. Cubism, as developed by Picasso, Georges Braque and Juan Gris, deconstructed the subject into a system of intersecting planes and presented various aspects simultaneously. A good example is Braque’s Houses at l’Estaque.

In the 1920s and ’30s the so-called École de Paris (School of Paris) was formed by a group of expressionists, mostly foreign born, including Amedeo Modigliani from Italy, Foujita from Japan and Marc Chagall from Russia, whose works combined fantasy and folklore.

Dada, both a literary and artistic movement of revolt, started in Zürich in 1915. In Paris, one of the key Dadaists was Marcel Duchamp, whose Mona Lisa adorned with moustache and goatee epitomises the spirit of the movement. Surrealism, an offshoot of Dada, flourished between the wars. Drawing on the theories of Sigmund Freud, it attempted to reunite the conscious and unconscious realms, to permeate everyday life with fantasies and dreams. Among the most important proponents of this style in Paris were Chagall, as well as René Magritte, André Masson, Max Ernst, André Breton and Piet Mondrian. The most influential, however, was the Spanish-born artist Salvador Dalí, who arrived in the French capital in 1929 and painted some of his most seminal works (eg Sleep, Paranoia) while residing here (see Dalí Espace Montmartre, Click here).

WWII ended Paris’ role as the world’s artistic capital. Many artists left France, and though some returned after the war, the city never regained its old magnetism, with New York and then London picking up the baton. A few postwar Parisian artists worth noting have been Jean Fautrier, Nicolas de Staël, Bernard Buffet and Robert Combas. Popular installation artists include Christian Boltanski, Xavier Veilhan and Ben Vautier.


top picks
ART & SCULPTURE MUSEUMS
 

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SCULPTURE

By the 14th century, sculpture was increasingly commissioned for the tombs of the nobility. In Renaissance Paris, Pierre Bontemps decorated the beautiful tomb of François I at the Basilique de St-Denis, and Jean Goujon created the Fontaine des Innocents. The baroque style is exemplified by Guillaume Coustou’s Horses of Marly at the entrance to the av des Champs-Élysées.

In the mid-19th century, memorial statues in public places came to replace sculpted tombs (boxed text). One of the best artists in the new mode was François Rude, who sculpted the Maréchal Ney statue (Map), Maréchal under Napoleon, outside La Closerie des Lilas, and the relief on the Arc de Triomphe. Another sculptor was Jean-Baptiste Carpeaux, who began as a romantic, but whose work – such as The Dance on the Palais Garnier and his fountain in the Jardin du Luxembourg – look back to the warmth and gaiety of the baroque era. At the end of the 19th century Auguste Rodin’s work overcame the conflict between neoclassicism and romanticism; his sumptuous bronze and marble figures of men and women did much to revitalise sculpture as an expressive medium. One of Rodin’s most gifted pupils was Camille Claudel, whose work can be seen along with that of Rodin in the Musée Rodin.

Both Braque and Picasso experimented with sculpture, and in the spirit of Dada, Marcel Duchamp exhibited ‘found objects’, one of which was a urinal, which he mounted, signed and dubbed Fountain in 1917.

One of the most influential sculptors to emerge before WWII was the Romanian-born and Paris-based Constantin Brancusi, whose work can be seen in the Atelier Brancusi outside the Centre Pompidou. After the war César Baldaccini – known simply as César to the world – used iron and scrap metal to create his imaginary insects and animals, later graduating to pliable plastics. Among his best-known works are the Centaur statue (Map) in the 6e and the statuette handed to actors at the Césars (French cinema’s equivalent to the Oscars). Two sculptors who lived and worked most of their adult lives in Paris and each have a museum devoted to their life and work are Ossip Zadkine and Antoine Bourdelle, though the museum of the latter was under renovation at the time of research.

In 1936 France put forward a bill providing for ‘the creation of monumental decorations in public buildings’ by allotting 1% of all building costs to public art, but this did not really get off the ground for another half-century when Daniel Buren’s Les Deux Plateaux sculpture Click here was commissioned at Palais Royal. The whole concept mushroomed, and artwork appeared everywhere: in the Jardin des Tuileries (The Welcoming Hands; Click here), throughout La Défense Click here, Parc de la Villette (eg Bicyclette Ensevelie, 1990; Click here) and even in the metro (boxed text). In addition, Paris counts some 120 commissioned murals, including a fine set of wall paintings by a group of four artists at 52 rue de Belleville, 20e (Map); and one by Robert Combas at 3 rue des Haudriettes, 3e (Map).

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MUSIC

In the 17th and 18th centuries French baroque music influenced much of Europe’s musical output. Composers François Couperin and Jean Philippe Rameau were two luminaries of this period.

France produced and cultivated a number of brilliant composers in the 19th century, including Hector Berlioz, Charles Gounod, César Franck, Camille Saint-Saëns and Georges Bizet. Berlioz was the founder of modern orchestration, while Franck’s organ compositions sparked a musical renaissance in France that would go on to produce such greats as Gabriel Fauré, and the musical impressionists Maurice Ravel and Claude Debussy. The latter’s adaptations of poems are among the greatest contributions to the world of music.

More-recent classical composers include Olivier Messiaen, for decades the chief organist at the Église de la Trinité in the 9e, who (until his death in 1992 at the age of 84) combined modern, almost mystical music with natural sounds such as birdsong. His student, the radical Pierre Boulez, includes computer-generated sound in his compositions.

Jazz hit Paris with a bang in the 1920s and has remained popular ever since. France’s contribution to the world of jazz has been great, including the violinist Stéphane Grapelli and the legendary three-fingered Roma guitarist Django Reinhardt.

The most popular form of indigenous music is the chanson française, with a tradition going back to the troubadours of the Middle Ages. ‘French songs’ have always emphasised lyrics over music and rhythm, which may explain the enormous success of rap in France in the 1990s, especially of groups like MC Solaar, NTM and I Am. The chanson tradition, celebrated by street singers such as Lucienne Delisle and Dahlia, was revived from the 1930s onwards by the likes of Édith Piaf and Charles Trénet. In the 1950s singers such as Georges Brassens, Léo Ferré, Claude Nougaro, Jacques Brel and Barbara became national stars; the music of balladeer/folk singer Serge Gainsbourg – very charming, very sexy and very French – remains enormously popular a decade and a half after his death.

The turn of the new millennium saw a revival of this genre called la nouvelle chanson française. Among the most exciting performers of this old-fashioned, slightly wordy genre are Vincent Delerm, Bénabar, Jeanne Cherhal, Camille, Soha and a group called Les Têtes Raides.

France was among the first countries to ‘discover’ sono mondiale (world music). You’ll hear everything from Algerian rai and other North African popular music (Khaled, Cheb Mami, Rachid Taha) and Senegalese mbalax (Youssou N’Dour) to West Indian zouk (Kassav, Zouk Machine) and Cuban salsa. In the late 1980s, Mano Negra and Les Négresses Vertes were two bands that combined many of these elements – often with brilliant results. Magic System from Côte d’Ivoire has helped popularise zouglou (a kind of West African rap and dance music) with its album Premier Gaou, and Congolese Koffi Olomide still packs the halls.


top picks
CDS
 
  • Édith Piaf: Live at the Paris Olympia – a collation of live recordings made in the 1950s and ‘60s, this album contains 20 of the belle of Belleville’s classics, including ‘Milord’, ‘Hymne à l’Amour’ and, of course, ‘Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien’.
  • M: Le Tour de M – everybody’s favourite sing-along gives a little Prince and a titch of Zappa, and even gives Brel a nod with ‘Au Suivant’ in this double CD with two-dozen tracks.
  • Georges Brassens: Le Disque d’Or – everything you need to know about one of France’s greatest performers (and the inspiration for Jacques Brel) is in this 21-track double helping.
  • Anthologie Serge Gainsbourg – three-CD anthology includes the metro man’s most famous tracks, including ‘Le Poinçonneur des Lilas’ and ‘Je t’aime…Moi Non Plus’ in duet with Brigitte Bardot.
  • Carla Bruni: No Promises – OK, the breathy voice might not do much for you but Italian-French model-cum-singer Carla Bruni’s only album thus far in English in which she sets to (her own) music a dozen poems by the likes of WB Yeats, Emily Dickinson, WH Auden and Dorothy Parker is more than just a curiosité now that said model-cum-singer is Mme Sarkozy.
  • Luaka Bop Présente Cuisine Non-Stop – there’s something for everyone in David Byrne’s homage to la nouvelle chanson française, with Arthur H coming over all Serge Gainsbourg on ‘Naïve Derviche’, and Têtes Raides light and breezy on ‘Un P’tit Air’.
  • La Nouvelle Chanson Française – like it or not, this five-pack by various artists gives directions to the way vocals are heading in French music, with everything from traditional and cabaret to folk-electronic and Paris club sound.

In recent years a distinctly urban and highly exportable Parisian sound has developed, often mixing computer-enhanced Chicago blues and Detroit techno with 1960s lounge music and vintage tracks from the likes of Gainsbourg and Brassens. Among those playing now are Parisian duo Daft Punk, who adapt first-wave acid House and techno to their younger roots in pop, indie rock and hip-hop; Air; and erstwhile Mano Negra leader Manu Chao, whose music is simple guitar and lyrics – plain and straightforward. One could be forgiven for thinking that popular music in France is becoming dynastic. The very distinctive M (for Mathieu) is the son of singer Louis Chédid; Arthur H is the progeny of pop-rock musician Jacques Higelin; and Thomas Dutronc is the offspring of 1960s idols père Jacques and Françoise Hardy. DJs to note are Étienne de Crécy, who has made quite a noise internationally; Claude Challe, responsible for the Buddha Bar compilations; and Wax Tailor.

Despite its problems (the lead singer, Bertrand Cantat, was imprisoned for the murder of his girlfriend), Noir Désir is the sound of French rock; there’s talk the band could reform since Cantat’s release from jail in 2007. Worth noting are Louise Attack, Mickey 3D and Nosfell, who sings in his very own invented language. It’s a long way from the yéyé (imitative rock) of the 1960s as sung by Johnny Halliday, otherwise known as ‘Johnny National’ until he took Belgian nationality for tax reasons.

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CINEMA

Parisians go to the cinema on average once a week – the 5pm séance (performance) on Sunday is a very popular time. They also take films, especially French films – France is the leading film producer in Europe, making over 200 films a year – very seriously. Parisians always prefer to watch foreign films in their original language with French subtitles.

France’s place in film history was firmly ensured when the Lumière brothers from Lyon invented ‘moving pictures’ and organised the world’s first paying public film-screening – a series of two-minute reels – in Paris’ Grand Café on the blvd des Capucines (9e) in December 1895.

In the 1920s and 1930s avant-garde directors, such as René Clair, Marcel Carné and the intensely productive Jean Renoir, son of the artist, searched for new forms and subjects.

In the late 1950s a large group of young directors arrived on the scene with a new genre, the so-called nouvelle vague (new wave). This group included Jean-Luc Godard, François Truffaut, Claude Chabrol, Eric Rohmer, Jacques Rivette, Louis Malle and Alain Resnais. This disparate group of directors believed in the primacy of the film maker, giving rise to the term film d’auteur (literally, ‘author’s film’).

Many films followed, among them Alain Resnais’ Hiroshima Mon Amour (Hiroshima My Love) and L’Année Dernière à Marienbad (Last Year at Marienbad), and Luis Buñuel’s Belle de Jour. François Truffaut’s Les Quatre Cents Coups (The 400 Blows) was partly based on his own rebellious adolescence. Jean-Luc Godard made such films as À Bout de Souffle (Breathless), Alphaville and Pierrot le Fou, which showed even less concern for sequence and narrative. The new wave continued until the 1970s, by which time it had lost its experimental edge and appeal.

Of the directors of the 1950s and 1960s who were not part of the new wave school, one of the most notable was Jacques Tati, who made many comic films based around the charming, bumbling figure of Monsieur Hulot and his struggles to adapt to the modern age. The best examples are Les Vacances de M Hulot (Mr Hulot’s Holiday) and Mon Oncle (My Uncle).

The most successful directors of the 1980s and 1990s included Jean-Jacques Beineix, who made Diva and Betty Blue, Jean-Luc Besson, who shot Subway and The Big Blue, and Léos Carax (Boy Meets Girl).

Light social comedies La Vie Est un Long Fleuve Tranquille (Life is a Long Quiet River) by Étienne Chatiliez, 8 Femmes, with its all-star cast (including Catherine Deneuve and Isabelle Huppert) by François Ozon and the Marseille comedy Taxi have been among the biggest hits in France in recent years.

Matthieu Kassovitz’s award-winning La Haine (Hate), apparently inspired by American films Mean Streets, Taxi Driver and Do the Right Thing, examined the prejudice and violence among young French-born Algerians. Alain Resnais’ On Connaît la Chanson (Same Old Song), based on the life of the late British TV playwright Dennis Potter, received international acclaim and six Césars in 1997.

Other well-regarded directors active today include Bertrand Blier (Trop Belle pour Toi; Too Beautiful for You), Cédric Klapisch (Un Air de Famille; Family Relations), German-born Dominik Moll (Harry, un Ami qui Vous Veut du Bien; With a Friend like Harry), Agnès Jaoul (Le Gout des Autres; The Taste of Others), Yves Lavandier (Oui, Mais…; Yes, But…), Catherine Breillat (À Ma Sœur; Fat Girl) and Abdellatif Kechiche (La Graine et le Mulet; The Secret of the Grain), who won his second César in 2008.

Among the most popular and/or biggest-grossing French films at home and abroad in recent years have been Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s feel-good Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain (Amélie); Christophe Barratier’s Les Choristes (The Chorus), about a new teacher at a strict boarding school who affects the students’ lives through music; De Battre Mon Cœur s’est Arrêté (The Beat My Heart Skipped) by Jacques Audiard, a film noir about a violent rent collector turned classical pianist confronting his own life and that of his criminal father; and Paris, Je T’aime (Paris, I Love You), a two-hour film made up of 18 short films each set in a different arrondissement. The runaway success story so far this decade has been Olivier Dahan’s La Môme (La Vie en Rose), starring Marion Cotillard as Édith Piaf. Not only did Cotillard pick up a César, Golden Globe and BAFTA for her efforts, she was the first French woman to win an Oscar for best actress since Simone Signoret was so honoured for Room at the Top in 1959. In early 2008 Bienvenue Chez les Ch’tis (Welcome to the Ch’tis), a simple film about a postal worker from the south who moves to Picardy in the north and falls for the charm of the locals, broke French box-office records.


top picks
PARIS FILMS
 
  • À Bout de Souffle (Breathless; France, 1959) – Jean-Luc Goddard’s first feature is a carefree, fast-paced B&W celebration of Paris – from av des Champs-Élysées to the cafés of the Left Bank.
  • Last Tango in Paris (USA, 1972) – in Bernardo Bertolucci’s classic, Marlon Brando gives the performance of his career portraying a grief-stricken American in Paris who tries to find salvation in anonymous, sadomasochistic sex.
  • La Haine (Hate; France, 1995) – Matthieu Kassovitz’s incendiary B&W film examines the racism, social repression and violence among Parisian beurs (young French-born Algerians).
  • Les Quatre Cents Coups (The 400 Blows; France, 1959) – based on the French idiom faire les quatre cents coups (to raise hell), François Truffaut’s first film is the semiautobiographical story of a downtrodden and neglected Parisian teenage boy who turns to outward rebellion.
  • La Môme (La Vie en Rose; 2007) – biopic so faithful to the person and the time it’s as if Édith Piaf – played by the highly honoured (and deservedly so) Marion Cotillard – had just woken up from a long sleep at Père Lachaise cemetery. Incroyable.
  • Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain (Amelie; France, 2001) – one of the most popular French films internationally in years, Jean-Pierre Jeunet’s feel-good story of a winsome young Parisian do-gooder named Amélie takes viewers on a colourful tour of Pigalle, Notre Dame, train stations and, above all, Montmartre.
  • Paris, Je T’aime (Paris, I Love You; France, 2006) – an ode to Paris in 18 short films shot in different arrondissements (the 11e and 15e were dropped at the last minute) by different directors, including the Coen Brothers and Gus Van Sant.

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THEATRE

France’s first important dramatist was Alexandre Hardy, who appeared in Paris in 1597 and published over a relatively short period almost three dozen plays that were enormously popular in their day. Though few of his works have withstood the test of time, Hardy was an innovator who helped bridge the gap between the French theatre of the Middle Ages and Renaissance and that of the 17th century.

During the golden age of French drama the most popular playwright was Molière who, like William Shakespeare, started his career as an actor; Laurent Tirard’s 2007 biopic Molière is a fictionalised account of his early years. Plays such as Tartuffe, a satire on the corruption of the aristocracy, won him the enmity (and a ban) of both the state and the church but are now staples of the classical repertoire. Pierre Corneille and Jean Racine, in contrast, drew their subjects from history and classical mythology. Racine’s Phèdre, for instance, taken from Euripides, is a story of incest and suicide among the descendants of the Greek gods, while Corneille’s tragedy Horace is derived from the historian Livy.

Theatre in France didn’t really come into its own again until the postwar period of the 20th century with the arrival of two foreigners, both proponents of the so-called Theatre of the Absurd, who wrote in French. Works by Irish-born Samuel Beckett, such as En Attendant Godot (Waiting for Godot; 1952), are bleak and point to the existentialist meaninglessness of life but are also richly humorous. The plays of Eugène Ionesco – eg La Cantatrice Chauve (The Bald Soprano; 1948) – can be equally dark and satirical but ultimately compassionate.

Plays performed in Paris are – for obvious reasons – performed largely in French but more and more mainstream theatres are projecting English-language subtitles on screens. For information on theatres that host English-speaking troupes and/or stage plays in languages other than French, Click here.

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DANCE

Ballet as we know it today originated in Italy but was brought to France in the late 16th century by Catherine de Médici. The first ballet comique de la reine (dramatic ballet) was performed at an aristocratic wedding at the Parisian court in 1581. It combined music, dance and poetic recitations (usually in praise of the monarchy) and was performed by male courtiers with women of the court forming the corps de ballet. Louis XIV so enjoyed the spectacles that he danced many leading roles himself at Versailles. In 1661 he founded the Académie Royale de Danse (Royal Dance Academy), from which modern ballet developed.

By the end of the 18th century, choreographers such as Jean-Georges Noverre had become more important than the musicians, poets and the dancers themselves. In the early 19th century, romantic ballets, such as Giselle and Les Sylphides, were better attended than the opera. For 10 years from 1945 Roland Petit created such innovative ballets as Turangalila, with music by Olivier Messiaen, and Le Jeune Homme et la Mort. Maurice Béjart shocked his audiences with his Symphonie pour un Homme Seul (which was danced in black in 1955), Le Sacre du Printemps (The Rite of Spring) and Le Marteau sans Maître, with music by Pierre Boulez.

Today French dance seems to be moving in a new, more personal direction with such performers as Maguy Marin, Laurent Hilaire and Aurélie Dupont. Choreographers include the likes of Odile Duboc, Caroline Marcadé, Jean-Claude Gallotta, Jean-François Duroure, Boris Charmatz and, perhaps the most interesting and visible of modern French choreographers, Philippe Decoufflé.

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ARCHITECTURE

Parisians have never been as intransigent as, say, Londoners in accepting changes to their cityscape, nor as unshocked by the new as New Yorkers appear to be. But then Paris never had as great a fire as London did in 1666, which offered architects a tabula rasa on which to redesign and build a modern city, or the green field that was New York in the late 18th century.

It took disease, clogged streets, an antiquated sewage system, a lack of open spaces and Baron Georges-Eugène Haussmann to drag Paris out of the Middle Ages into a modern world, and few town planners anywhere in the world have had as great an impact on the city of their birth as he did on his.

Haussmann’s 19th-century transformation of Paris was a huge undertaking – Parisians endured years of ‘flying dust, noise, and falling plaster and beams’, as one contemporary observer wrote; entire areas of the city (eg the labyrinthine Île de la Cité) were razed and hundreds of thousands of (mostly poor) people displaced. Even worse – or better, depending on your outlook – it brought to a head the vieux (old) Paris versus nouveau (new) Paris, a debate in which writer Victor Hugo played a key role and which continues to this day Click here.

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GALLO-ROMAN

Traces of Roman Paris can be seen in the residential foundations and dwellings in the Crypte Archéologique Click here under the square in front of Notre Dame; in the partially reconstructed Arènes de Lutèce Click here; and in the frigidarium (cooling room) and other remains of Roman baths dating from around AD 200 at the Musée National du Moyen Age.

The Musée National du Moyen Age also contains the so-called Pillier des Nautes (Boatsmen’s Pillar), one of the most valuable legacies of the Gallo-Roman period. It is a 2.5m-high monument dedicated to Jupiter and was erected by the boatmen’s guild during the reign of Tiberius (AD 14–37) on the Île de la Cité. The boat remains the symbol of Paris, and the city’s Latin motto is ‘Fluctuat Nec Mergitur’ (Tosses but Does Not Sink).

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MEROVINGIAN & CAROLINGIAN

Although quite a few churches were built in Paris during the Merovingian and Carolingian periods (6th to 10th centuries), very little of them remain.

When the Merovingian ruler Clovis I made Paris his seat in the early 6th century, he established an abbey dedicated to Sts Peter and Paul on the south bank of the Seine. All that remains of this once great abbey (later named in honour of Paris’ patron, Sainte Geneviève, and demolished in 1802) is the Tour Clovis, a heavily restored Romanesque tower within the grounds of the prestigious Lycée Henri IV just east of the Panthéon.

Archaeological excavations in the crypt of the 12th-century Basilique de St-Denis have uncovered extensive tombs from both the Merovingian and Carolingian periods. The oldest of these dates from around AD 570.

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ROMANESQUE

A religious revival in the 11th century led to the construction of a large number of roman (Romanesque) churches, so-called because their architects adopted many architectural elements (eg vaulting) from Gallo-Roman buildings still standing at the time. Romanesque buildings typically have round arches, heavy walls, few windows that let in very little light, and a lack of ornamentation that borders on the austere.

No civic buildings or churches in Paris are entirely Romanesque in style, but a few have important representative elements. The Église St-Germain des Prés Click here, built in the 11th century on the site of the Merovingian ruler Childeric’s 6th-century abbey, has been altered many times over the centuries, but the Romanesque bell tower over the west entrance has changed little since 1000. There are also some decorated capitals (the upper part of the supporting columns) in the nave dating from this time. The choir, apse and truncated bell tower of the Église St-Nicholas des Champs (Map), just south of the Musée des Arts et Métiers, are Romanesque dating from about 1130. The Église St-Germain L’Auxerrois was built in a mixture of Gothic and Renaissance styles between the 13th and 16th centuries on a site used for Christian worship since about AD 500. But the square belfry that rises from next to the south transept arm is Romanesque in style.

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GOTHIC

The Gothic style originated in the mid-12th century in northern France, where great wealth attracted the finest architects, engineers and artisans. Gothic structures are characterised by ribbed vaults carved with great precision, pointed arches, slender verticals, chapels (often built or endowed by the wealthy or by guilds), galleries and arcades along the nave and chancel, refined decoration and large stained-glass windows. If you look closely at certain Gothic buildings, however, you’ll notice minor asymmetrical elements introduced to avoid monotony.

The world’s first Gothic building was the Basilique de St-Denis, which combined various late-Romanesque elements to create a new kind of structural support in which each arch counteracted and complemented the next. Begun in around 1135, the basilica served as a model for many other 12th-century French cathedrals, including Notre Dame de Paris and the cathedral at Chartres.

In the 14th century, the Rayonnant – or Radiant – Gothic style, which was named after the radiating tracery of the rose windows, developed, with interiors becoming even lighter thanks to broader windows and more-translucent stained glass. One of the most influential Rayonnant buildings was Ste-Chapelle, whose stained glass forms a curtain of glazing on the 1st floor. The two transept façades of the Cathédrale de Notre Dame de Paris and the vaulted Salle des Gens d’Armes (Cavalrymen’s Hall) in the Conciergerie, the largest surviving medieval hall in Europe, are other fine examples of the Rayonnant Gothic style.

By the 15th century, decorative extravagance led to what is now called Flamboyant Gothic, so named because the wavy stone carving made the towers appear to be blazing or flaming (flamboyant). Beautifully lacy examples of Flamboyant architecture include the Clocher Neuf (New Bell Tower) at Chartres’ Cathédrale Notre Dame, the Église St-Séverin (Map) and the Tour St-Jacques, a 52m tower which is all that remains of an early-16th-century church. Inside the Église St-Eustache, there’s some outstanding Flamboyant Gothic arch work holding up the ceiling of the chancel. Several hôtels particuliers (private mansions) were also built in this style, including the Hôtel de Cluny, now the Musée National du Moyen Age and the Hôtel de Sens (now the Bibliothèque Forney, Click here).

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RENAISSANCE

The Renaissance, which began in Italy in the early 15th century, set out to realise a ‘rebirth’ of classical Greek and Roman culture. It had its first impact on France at the end of the 15th century, when Charles VIII began a series of invasions of Italy, returning with some new ideas.

The Early Renaissance style, in which a variety of classical components and decorative motifs (columns, tunnel vaults, round arches, domes etc) were blended with the rich decoration of Flamboyant Gothic, is best exemplified in Paris by the Église St-Eustache on the Right Bank and Église St-Étienne du Mont on the Left Bank.

Mannerism, which followed Early Renaissance, was introduced by Italian architects and artists brought to France around 1530 by François I; over the following decades French architects who had studied in Italy took over from their Italian colleagues. In 1546 Pierre Lescot designed the richly decorated southwestern corner of the Cour Carrée of the Musée du Louvre. The Petit Château at the Château de Chantilly was built about a decade later. The Marais remains the best area for spotting reminders of the Renaissance in Paris proper, with some fine hôtels particuliers from this era such as Hôtel Carnavalet, housing part of the Musée Carnavalet and Hôtel Lamoignon. The Mannerist style lasted until the early 17th century.

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BAROQUE

During the baroque period – which lasted from the tail end of the 16th to the late 18th centuries – painting, sculpture and classical architecture were integrated to create structures and interiors of great subtlety, refinement and elegance. With the advent of the baroque, architecture became more pictorial, with the painted ceilings in churches illustrating the Passion of Christ and infinity to the faithful, and palaces invoking the power and order of the state.

Salomon de Brosse, who designed Paris’ Palais du Luxembourg (see Jardin du Luxembourg, Click here) in 1615, set the stage for two of France’s most prominent early baroque architects: François Mansart, designer of the Église Notre Dame du Val-de-Grâce (Map), and his young rival Louis Le Vau, the architect of the Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte, which served as a model for Louis XIV’s palace at Versailles.

Other fine examples of French baroque are the Église St-Louis en l’Île; the Chapelle de la Sorbonne; the Palais Royal; and the 17th-century Hôtel de Sully, with its inner courtyard decorated with allegorical figures.

Rococo

Rococo, a derivation of late baroque, was popular during the Enlightenment (1700–80). The word comes from the French rocaille (loose pebbles), which, together with shells, were used to decorate inside walls and other surfaces. In Paris, rococo was confined almost exclusively to the interiors of private residences and had a minimal impact on churches and civic buildings, which continued to follow the conventional rules of baroque classicism. Rococo interiors, such as the oval rooms of the Hôtel de Rohan-Soubise (see Archives Nationales, Click here), were lighter, smoother and airier than their baroque predecessors, and tended to favour pastels over vivid colours.

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NEOCLASSICISM

Neoclassical architecture, which emerged in about 1740 and remained popular in Paris until well into the 19th century, had its roots in the renewed interest in classical forms. Although it was, in part, a reaction against baroque and its adjunct, rococo, with emphases on decoration and illusion, neoclassicism was more profoundly a search for order, reason and serenity through the adoption of the forms and conventions of Graeco-Roman antiquity: columns, simple geometric forms and traditional ornamentation.

Among the earliest examples of this style in Paris are the Italianate façade of the Église St-Sulpice, designed in 1733 by Giovanni Servandoni, which took inspiration from Christopher Wren’s Cathedral of St Paul in London; and the Petit Trianon at Versailles, designed by Jacques-Ange Gabriel for Louis XV in 1761. The domed building housing the Institut de France is a masterpiece of early French neoclassical architecture, but France’s greatest neoclassical architect of the 18th century was Jacques-Germain Soufflot, who designed the Panthéon Click here.

Neoclassicism really came into its own, however, under Napoleon, who used it extensively for monumental architecture intended to embody the grandeur of imperial France and its capital. Well-known Paris sights designed (though not necessarily completed) under the First Empire (1804–14) include the Arc de Triomphe; the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel; Église de Ste-Marie Madeleine; the Bourse de Commerce; and the Assemblée Nationale in the Palais Bourbon. The climax of 19th-century classicism in Paris, however, is thought to be the Palais Garnier, designed by Charles Garnier to house the opera and to showcase the splendour of Napoleon III’s France.


top picks
PARIS ARCHITECTURE BOOKS
 
  • Guide de l’Architecture Moderne á Paris/Guide to Modern Architecture in Paris, Hervé Martin (2001) – excellent and very complete guide to all types of architecture; includes walking tours of the city.
  • Paris: Architecture & Design, edited by Christian van Uffelen (2004) – a well-illustrated and very useful introduction to Paris’ new architecture, inside and out.
  • Paris 2000+: New Architecture, Sam Lubell & Axel Sowa (2007) – as new as tomorrow, this richly illustrated coffee-table book focuses on 30 buildings that have gone up since 2000.
  • Paris, Grammaire de l’Architecture: XXe-XXIe Siècles, Simon Texier (2007) – contemporaneous with the preceding title, this is a far more serious French-language tome examining late-20th- and early-21st-century structures.
  • Paris: A Guide to Recent Architecture, Barbara-Ann Campbell (1997) – dated, with B&W photos, this pocket-size book is for serious aficionados of the subject.

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ART NOUVEAU

Art Nouveau, which emerged in Europe and the USA in the second half of the 19th century under various names (Jugendstil, Sezessionstil, Stile Liberty) caught on quickly in Paris, and its influence lasted until about 1910. It was characterised by sinuous curves and flowing, asymmetrical forms reminiscent of creeping vines, water lilies, the patterns on insect wings and the flowering boughs of trees. Influenced by the arrival of exotic objets d’art from Japan, its French name came from a Paris gallery that featured works in the ‘new art’ style.

Paris is still graced by Hector Guimard’s Art Nouveau metro entrances (boxed text). There are some fine Art Nouveau interiors in the Musée d’Orsay; an Art Nouveau glass roof over the Grand Palais; and, on rue Pavée in the Marais, a synagogue designed by Guimard. The city’s main department stores, including Le Bon Marché Click here and Galeries Lafayette, also have elements of this style throughout their interiors.

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MODERN

France’s best-known 20th-century architect, Charles-Édouard Jeanneret (better known as Le Corbusier), was born in Switzerland but settled in Paris in 1917 at the age of 30. A radical modernist, he tried to adapt buildings to their functions in industrialised society without ignoring the human element. Not everyone thinks he was particularly successful in this endeavour, however.

Most of Le Corbusier’s work was done outside Paris though he did design several private residences and the Pavillon Suisse, a dormitory for Swiss students at the Cité Internationale Universitaire (Map) in the southeastern 14e bordering the blvd Périphérique. Perhaps most interesting – and frightening – are Le Corbusier’s plans for Paris that never left the drawing board. Called Plan Voisin (Neighbour Project; 1925), it envisaged wide boulevards linking the Gare Montparnasse with the Seine and lined with skyscrapers. The project would have required bulldozing much of the Latin Quarter.

One of the best examples of modernist architecture in all of Paris is the Maison de Verre (Map; 31 rue St-Guillaume, 7e; Sèvres Babylone), the exquisite ‘Glass House’ designed by Pierre Chareau and completed in 1932. It may soon be open for limited tours.

Until 1968, French architects were still being trained almost exclusively at the conformist École de Beaux-Arts, which certainly shows in most of the early structures erected in the skyscraper district of La Défense Click here. It can also be seen in buildings like the Unesco building (Map), erected in 1958 southwest of the École Militaire in the 7e, and the unspeakable, 210m-tall Tour Montparnasse (1973; Click here), whose architects, in our opinion, should have been driven in tumbrels to the place de la Concorde and guillotined.

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CONTEMPORARY

France owes many of its most attractive and successful contemporary buildings in Paris to the narcissism of its presidents. For centuries France’s leaders have sought to immortalise themselves by erecting huge public edifices – known as grands projets – in the capital, and the recent past has been no different. The late president Georges Pompidou commissioned the once reviled but now beloved Centre Beaubourg (Renzo Piano and Richard Rogers, 1977), later renamed the Centre Pompidou, in which the architects – in order to keep the exhibition halls as spacious and uncluttered as possible – put the building’s insides outside.

Pompidou’s successor, Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, was instrumental in transforming the derelict Gare d’Orsay train station into the glorious Musée d’Orsay, a design carried out by the Italian architect Gaeltana Aulenti in 1986. Jacques Chirac’s only grand projet of 12 years in office was the magnificent Musée du Quai Branly, the first major art gallery to open in Paris since the Centre Pompidou. By contrast, his predecessor François Mitterrand, with his decided preference for the modern, surpassed all of the postwar presidents with a dozen or so monumental projects in Paris costing taxpayers a whopping €4.6 billion.

Since the early 1980s, Paris has seen the construction of such structures as IM Pei’s controversial Grande Pyramide (1989; see Musée du Louvre, Click here), a glass pyramid that serves as the main entrance to the hitherto sacrosanct – and untouchable – Louvre and an architectural cause célèbre in the late 1980s; the city’s second opera house, the tile-clad Opéra Bastille (1989; Click here) designed by Canadian Carlos Ott; the monumental Grande Arche de la Défense Click here by Danish architect Johan-Otto von Sprekelsen, which opened in 1989; the delightful Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse (1990; Click here) and Cité de la Musique (1994; Click here), designed by Christian de Portzamparc and serving as a sort of gateway from the city to the whimsical Parc de la Villette; the twinned Grandes Serres (Great Greenhouses) built by Patrick Berger in 1992 at the main entrance to the Parc André Citroën (Map); the Ministère de l’Économie, des Finances et de l’Industrie (Click here) designed by Paul Chemetov and Borja Huidobro in 1990, with its striking ‘pier’ overhanging the Seine in Bercy; and the four glass towers of Dominique Perrault’s Bibliothèque Nationale de France (National Library of France;), which opened in 1995.


FOR FURTHER INFORMATION
Those wanting to learn more about French architecture should visit the new Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine in the Palais de Chaillot. Contemporary architecture in the capital is the focus of the permanent exhibition called ‘Paris, Visite Guidée’ (Paris, a Guided Tour) at the Pavillon de l’Arsenal (Map; 01 42 76 33 97; www.pavillon-arsenal.com; 21 blvd Morland, 4e; admission free; 10.30am-6.30pm Tue-Sat, 11am-7pm Sun; Sully Morland), which is the city’s town-planning and architectural centre. It also has rotating exhibits.

One of the most beautiful and successful of the late-20th-century modern buildings in Paris is the Institut du Monde Arabe, a highly praised structure that opened in 1987 and successfully mixes modern and traditional Arab and Western elements. It was designed by Jean Nouvel, France’s leading and arguably most talented architect. We can’t wait to see his Philharmonie de Paris (opposite).


BUILDING NEW INSPIRATION
For the most part, skyscrapers and other tall buildings are restricted to La Défense Click here, but that doesn’t mean other parts of Paris are bereft of interesting and inspired new buildings. Some of our favourites:

1er arrondissement
Immeuble des Bons Enfants (Map; 182 rue St-Honoré; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre) Home to the Ministère de la Culture et de la Communication (Ministry of Culture & Communication), this inspired structure (Francis Soler and Frédéric Druot, 2004) is actually two separate and disparate buildings ‘linked’ by a metallic net of what can only be described as tracery that allows in light and also allows the diversity of the existing buildings to be seen.

Marché de St-Honoré (Map; place du Marché St-Honoré; Tuileries or Opéra) This monumental glass hall (Ricardo Bofill, 1996) of offices and shops replaces an unsightly parking garage (now put underground) and evokes the wonderful passages couverts (covered shopping arcades) that begin a short distance to the northeast Click here.

7e arrondissement
Musée du Quai Branly Jean Nouvel’s structure of glass, wood and sod takes advantage of its 3-hectare experimental garden designed by Gilles Clément. A wall of the block facing the Seine is a ‘vertical garden’ Click here of no fewer than 15,000 plants representing 150 varieties.

9e arrondissement
Hôtel Drouot We like this zany structure (Jean-Jacques Fernier and André Biro, 1980), a rebuild of the mid-19th-century Hôtel Drouot, for its 1970s retro design.

10e arrondissement
Crèche (Map; 8ter rue des Récollets; Gare de l’Est) This day nursery (Marc Younan, 2002) of wood and resin in the garden of the Couvent des Récollets looks like a jumbled pile of gold- and mustard-coloured building blocks. A central glass atrium functions as a ‘village square’.

12e arrondissement
Cinémathèque Française The former American Centre (Frank Gehry, 1994), from the incomparable American architect of the Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao, is a fascinating building of creamy stone that looks, from some angles, as though it is falling in on itself.

Direction de l’Action Sociale Building (Map; 94-96 quai de la Rapée; Quai de la Rapée) The headquarters of Social Action (Aymeric Zublena, 1991) is unabashed in proclaiming the power of the state, with a huge square within and vast glass-and-metal gates. When the gates close, the square turns into an antechamber worthy of a palace.

13e arrondissement
Passerelle Simone de Beauvoir This delightful footbridge (Eiffel, 2006), built by the same company responsible for the icon, glides across the Seine, linking the 12e and 13e arrondissements, and at night looks like a blade of light.

14e arrondissement
Fondation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain Jean Nouvel set to ‘conceal’ the Cartier Foundation for Contemporary Arts when he designed it in 1993. In some ways the structure (lots of glass and what looks like scaffolding) appears at once both incomplete and invisible. There’s a ‘vertical garden’ Click here here too.

19e arrondissement
Les Orgues de Flandre (Map; 67-107 av de Flandre & 14-24 rue Archereau; Riquet) As outlandish a structure as you’ll find anywhere, these two enormous housing estates are known as ‘The Organs of Flanders’ due to their resemblance to that musical instrument and their street address. Storeys are stacked at oblique angles and the structures appear to be swaying, though they are firmly anchored at the end of a park south of the blvd Périphérique.

Philharmonie de Paris (Map; Parc de la Villette; Porte de Pantin) The ambitious new home of the Orchestre de Paris, due to open in 2012, will have an auditorium of 2400 ‘terrace’ seats surrounding the orchestra.

However, not everything new, different and/or monumental that has appeared in the past two decades has been a government undertaking. The vast majority of the buildings in La Défense Click here, Paris’ skyscraper district on the Seine to the west of the city centre, are privately owned and house some 1500 companies, including the head offices of more than a dozen of France’s top corporations. Unfortunately, most of the skyscrapers here are impersonal and forgettable ‘lipstick tubes’ and ‘upended shoeboxes’, with a few notable exceptions including the Cœur Défense (Défense Heart; 2001), the Tour EDF (2001) and the Tour T1 (2005). But outranking them all in size, beauty and sustainability will be Tour Phare (Lighthouse Tower), a 299m-tall office and retail tower that torques like a human torso and, through awnings that raise and lower when the sun hits them, uses light as a building material. It will be completed in 2012.

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ENVIRONMENT & PLANNING

THE LAND

The city of Paris – the capital of both France and the historic Île de France region – covers an area of just under 87 sq km (or 105 sq km if you include the Bois de Boulogne and the Bois de Vincennes). Within central Paris – which Parisians call intra-muros (Latin for ‘within the walls’) – the Right Bank is north of the Seine, while the Left Bank is south of the river.

Paris is a relatively easy city to negotiate. The ring road, known as the Périphérique, makes an irregularly shaped oval containing the entire central area. The Seine cuts an arc across the oval, and the terrain is so flat that the 126m-high Butte de Montmartre (Montmartre Hill) to the north is clearly visible for some distance.

Paris is divided neatly into two by the Seine and also into 20 arrondissements, which spiral clockwise from the centre in a logical progression. City addresses always include the number of the arrondissement, as streets with the same name exist in different districts. In this book, arrondissement numbers are given after the street address using the notation generally used by the French: 1er for premier (1st), 2e for deuxième (2nd), 3e for troisième (3rd) and so on. On some signs or commercial maps, you will see the variations 2ème, 3ème etc and sometimes IIe, IIIe etc.

There is almost always a metro station within 500m of wherever you are in Paris so all offices, museums, hotels, restaurants and so on included in this book have the nearest metro or RER (a network of suburban lines) station given immediately after the contact details. Metro stations generally have a plan du quartier (map of the neighbourhood) on the wall near the exit(s).

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GREEN PARIS

For a densely populated urban centre inhabited for more than two millennia, Paris is a surprisingly healthy and clean city. Thanks mainly to Baron Haussmann, who radically reshaped the city in the second half of the 19th century, a small army of street sweepers brush litter into the gutters from where it is hosed into sewers, and a city ordinance requires residents to have the façades of their buildings cleaned every 10 years.


top picks
PARKS & GARDENS
 

These days, despite the city’s excellent (and cheap) public transport system, Haussmann’s wide boulevards are usually choked with traffic, and air pollution is undoubtedly the city’s major environmental hazard. But things have improved tremendously on that score: the city leadership, which came to power in coalition with the Green Party, first restricted traffic on some roads at certain times and created lanes only for buses, taxis and bicycles. Then, in 2007, in an unprecedented move for a city its size, Paris launched the Vélib’ communal bicycle rental programme Click here with more than 20,500 bicycles available at more than 450 stations. The City of Light (and life for foot-sore Lonely Planet authors) will never be the same.


GROWING UP IN PARIS
The architectural feature du jour (currently) in Paris is the vertical garden – called a mur végétal (vegetation wall) in French – especially that of Patrick Blanc (www.verticalgardenpatrickblanc.com). His signature works can be found in several locations around Paris but the most famous is the one facing the Seine at the Musée du Quai Branly. Seeming to defy the very laws of gravity, the museum’s vertical garden consists of some 15,000 low-light foliage plants from Central Europe, the USA, Japan and China planted on a surface of 800 sq metres. The reason why they don’t fall is that they are held in place by a frame of metal, PVC and non-biodegradable felt but no soil.
Other places to view M Blanc’s handiwork:
 
  • Centre Commercial des Quatre Temps, La Défense Click here
  • Fondation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain, 14e Click here
  • Marithé + François Girbaud branch, 6e Click here

Though upwards of some 96,500 trees (mostly plane trees and horse chestnuts) line the avenues and boulevards of Paris, the city can often feel excessively built-up. Yet there are more than 455 parks and gardens (with another 87,500 trees) to choose from – some not much bigger than a beach blanket, others the size of a small village. Over the past 15 years, the city government has spent a small fortune transforming vacant lots and derelict industrial land into new parks. Some of the better ones are Parc de Bercy and the unique Promenade Plantée Click here, the ‘planted walkway’ above the Viaduc des Arts, both in the 12e; the Jardin de l’Atlantique, behind the Gare Montparnasse, and Parc André Citroën (Map) on the banks of the Seine, both in the 15e; Parc de la Villette and Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, both in the 19e; and Parc de Belleville, 20e. If you’d like a hand in the ‘reforestation’ of the capital and elsewhere and don’t mind spending €5, visit 1 Parisien, 1 Arbre (1 Parisian, 1 Tree; www.1parisien1arbre.com).

In just about every park in Paris, regardless of the size, you’ll see a signboard illustrating and explaining the trees, flowers and other plants of the city. Most are rich in birdlife, including magpies, jays, great and blue tits, and even woodpeckers. In winter, seagulls are sometimes seen on the Seine, and a few hardy ducks also brave the river’s often swift-flowing waters. Believe it or not, 32 mammals live in the parks of Paris, there are crayfish in the city’s canals, and the Seine is teeming with roach, carp, bleak, pike and pike-perch.

If you want to keep Paris clean, leave your car at home and resist the temptation to rent one unless you’re touring around the Île de France. Instead, bring or rent a bike Click here, bearing in mind that the Vélib’ rental system is more of a way of getting from A to B than a recreational facility; enjoy the city on foot – Paris is an eminently walkable city (see the walking tours in the Neighbourhoods chapter); or use the public transport system, which is cheap and extremely efficient. For further tips on how you can reduce your impact on the environment, contact Les Amis de la Nature ( 01 42 85 29 84; www.amisnature-pariscentre.org, in French; 18 rue Victor Massé, 75009) or the World Wildlife Fund France ( 01 55 25 84 84; www.wwf.fr, in French; 1 carrefour de Longchamp, 75116).

In theory Parisians can be fined up to €183 for littering (that includes cigarette butts) but we’ve never heard of anyone having to pay. Don’t be nonplussed if you see locals drop paper wrappings or other detritus along the side of the pavement, however; the gutters in every quarter of Paris are washed and swept out daily and Parisians are encouraged to use them if litter bins are not available.

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URBAN PLANNING & DEVELOPMENT

In 1967 stringent town-planning regulations in Paris, which had been on the books since Haussmann’s time, were relaxed and buildings were allowed to ‘soar’ to 37m. However, they had to be set back from the road so as not to block the light. But this change allowed the erection of high-rise buildings, which broke up the continuity of many streets. A decade later new restrictions required that buildings again be aligned along the road and that their height be in proportion to the width of the street. In some central areas that means buildings cannot go higher than 18m.

In 2007 Mayor Bertrand Delanoë challenged the law – and Parisians’ way of thinking – when he invited a dozen architectural firms from around the world to submit drawings for towers exceeding 100m in three different areas of the city, including Porte de la Chapelle in the 18e and the Masséna-Bruneseau district of the 13e but not the traditional skyscraper district of La Défense. The move was opposed by all opposition parties and, in a municipal survey, 63% of all Parisians.

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GOVERNMENT & POLITICS

LOCAL GOVERNMENT

Paris is run by the maire (mayor), who is elected by the 163 members of the Conseil de Paris (Council of Paris). They serve terms of six years. The mayor has around 18 adjoints (deputy mayors), whose offices are in the Hôtel de Ville (City Hall).

The first mayor of Paris to be elected with real powers was Jacques Chirac in 1977; from 1871 until that year, the mayor was nominated by the national government as the capital was considered a dangerous and revolutionary hotbed. After the 1995 election of Chirac as national president, the Council of Paris elected Jean Tiberi as mayor, a man who was very close to the president and from the same party. In May 2001, Bertrand Delanoë, a socialist with support from the Green Party, became the first openly gay mayor of Paris (and of any European capital). The next election, which should have taken place in 2007, was deferred until March 2008 in deference to the national elections that year. Delanoë handily won re-election to a second term in the second round of voting.

The mayor has many powers, but they do not include control of the police, which is instead handled by the Préfet de Police (Chief of Police), part of the Ministère de l’Intérieur (Ministry of the Interior). Delanoë continues to enjoy widespread popularity, particularly for his efforts to make Paris a more livable city by promoting the use of bicycles and buses, reducing the number of cars on the road and creating a more approachable and responsible city administration.

Paris is a département – Ville de Paris; No 75 – as well as a city and the mayor is the head of both. The city is divided into 20 arrondissements and each has its own maire d’arrondissement (mayor of the arrondissement) and conseil d’arrondissement (council of the arrondissement), who are also elected for six-year terms. They have very limited powers, principally administering local cultural activities and sporting events.

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NATIONAL GOVERNMENT

France is a republic with a written constitution adopted by referendum in September 1958 (the so-called Constitution of the Fifth Republic) and adapted 18 times since, most notably in 1962 when a referendum was organised calling for the election of the president by direct universal suffrage; in 1993 when immigration laws were tightened; in 2000 when the president’s term was reduced from seven to five years; in 2003 when parliament approved amendments allowing for the devolution of wide powers to the regions and departments; and in 2007 when it banned the death penalty.

As the capital city, Paris is home to almost all the national offices of state, including, of course, the Parlement (Parliament), which is divided into two houses: the Assemblée Nationale (National Assembly) and the Sénat (Senate). The 577 deputies of the National Assembly are directly elected in single-member constituencies for terms lasting five years (next election: 2012). Until September 2004 the rather powerless Senate counted 321 senators, each elected to a nine-year term. Now the term is six years and the number of senators will increase to 346 by 2010 to reflect changes in the France’s demographics. Senators are indirectly elected by one half every three years. The president of the republic is directly elected for a term lasting five years and can stand for re-election.

Executive power is shared by the president and the Conseil des Ministres (Council of Ministers), whose members – including the prime minister – are appointed by the president but are responsible to parliament. The president serves as commander-in-chief of the armed forces and theoretically makes all major policy decisions.

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MEDIA

The main national daily newspapers are Le Figaro (centre-right; aimed at professionals, businesspeople and the bourgeoisie; www.lefigaro.fr), Le Monde (centre-left; popular with professionals and intellectuals; www.lemonde.fr), France Soir (right-wing; working and middle class; www.francesoir.fr), Libération (left-wing; popular with students and intellectuals; www.liberation.fr) and L’Humanité (communist; working-class and intellectuals; www.humanite.fr). The capital’s own daily is Le Parisien (centre; working class; www.leparisien.fr) and is easy to read if you have basic French. L’Équipe (www.lequipe.fr) is a daily devoted exclusively to sport and Paris Turf (www.paris-turf.com) to horse racing.

News weeklies with commentary include the comprehensive, left-leaning Le Nouvel Observateur (http://tempsreel.nouvelobs.com) and the more conservative L’Express (www.lexpress.fr).

For some investigative journalism blended with satire, pick up a copy of Le Canard Enchainé (www.lecanardenchaine.fr) – assuming your French is of a certain level, of course. Paris Match (www.parismatch.com) is a gossipy, picture-heavy weekly with a penchant for royalty and film stars; they milked the Sarkozy divorce-and-rebound-remarriage histoire (story) for all it was worth – and then some. No group of people in Europe blog as much as the French do – the total at the moment is more than three million and growing – and there is no better way to understand what the French are thinking at the moment than entering the French blogosphere (Click here).

Public radio is grouped under the umbrella of Radio France (www.radiofrance.fr), which broadcasts via a network of dozens of radio stations, of which seven are the most important. These include national stations France Inter (87.8 MHz FM in Paris), the flagship talk station specialising in music, news and entertainment; the very highbrow France Culture (93.5 MHz FM); France Musique (91.7 MHz FM), which broadcasts over 1000 classical-music and jazz concerts each year; Radio Bleu, a network of stations for over-50s listeners; and France Info, a 24-hour news station that broadcasts headlines in French every few minutes and can be heard at 105.5 MHz FM. FIP (105.1 MHz FM) has a wide range of music – from hip-hop and chanson to world and rock – while Le Mouv’ (92.1 MHz FM) is bubblegum pop.

Radio France Internationale (RFI; www.rfi.fr), France’s voice abroad since 1931 and independent of Radio France since 1986, broadcasts in 19 languages (including English) and can be reached in Paris at 738 kHz AM. Arte Radio is a Franco-German web radio station featuring news reports and music.

Among the private radio networks, RTL (104.3 MHz FM) is still the leading general-interest station with over eight million listeners and three stations: RTL 1, RTL 2 and Fun Radio. The droves of FM pop-music stations include Hot Mix Radio, Nostalgie and Chérie FM, most of which follow the phone-in format with wisecracking DJs. Hard-core clubbers turn the dial to Radio Nova at 101.5 MHz FM for the latest on the nightclub scene; Radio FG (98.2 MHz FM) is the station for House, techno, garage and trance; and Paris Jazz (88.2 MHz FM) offers jazz and blues.

By law, radio broadcasters in France have to play at least 40% of their music in French – a law passed to protect French pop from being swamped by English-language imports – and stations can be fined if they don’t comply. This helps explain why so many English-language hits are re-recorded in French – not always very successfully.

More than half of France’s seven major national terrestrial TV channels (www.francetelevisions.fr) are public: France 2 and France 3 are general-interest stations designed to complement each other: the former focuses on news, entertainment and education, while the latter broadcasts regional programmes and news. France 5 targets its audience with documentaries (eg a daily health programme) and cartoons for the kids. The French/German public channel Arte, which shares with France 5, is a highbrow cultural channel.

The major private stations are the Franco-German TF1, M6 and Canal+. TF1 focuses on entertainment – télé-réalité (reality TV) is a big deal here – and sport; with about one-third of all French viewers, it is the most popular station in France. M6 lures a youngish audience with its menu of drama, music and news programmes. Canal+ is a mostly subscription-only channel that shows lots of films, both foreign and French – which isn’t surprising, as it’s the chief sponsor of the French cinema industry.

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FASHION

‘Fashion is a way of life,’ Yves St Laurent once pronounced, and most Parisians would agree. They live, breathe and consume fashion. After all, to their reckoning, fashion is French – like gastronomy – and the competition from Milan, Tokyo or New York simply doesn’t cut the mustard.

But what few Parisians know (or want to admit) is that an Englishman created Parisian haute couture (literally ‘high sewing’) as it exists today. Known as ‘the Napoleon of costumers’, Charles Frederick Worth (1825–95) arrived in Paris at the age of 20 and revolutionised fashion by banishing the crinoline (stiffened petticoat), lifting hemlines up to the oh-so-shocking ankle length and presenting his creations on live models. The House of Worth stayed in the family for four generations until the 1950s.

Indeed, the British are still key players on the Paris fashion scene today, notably in the form of erstwhile enfant terrible and now chief designer for Dior, John Galliano. In 2007, some six decades after house founder Christian Dior (1905–57) revolutionised the postwar fashion scene with his New Look, Galliano, dressed as a matador, hosted a star-studded event (at the Château de Versailles, no less) with top models parading such outfits as a flamenco-inspired, heavily embroidered gown that took some 10 stitchers up to 900 hours to create. Marie-Antoinette would have certainly approved.

Galliano is hardly the only eccentric couturier in Paris; Jean-Paul Gaultier draws his influence from the punk movement, dresses men in skirts and is famous for fitting Madonna into her signature conical bra. But you probably won’t encounter women clad in Gaultier (or even Galliano) rubbing shoulders in the metro. Paris style remains quintessentially classic, with Parisian women preferring to play it safe (and sometimes slightly sexy) in monotones. It could be said that today’s parisiennes are the legitimate daughters of the great Coco Chanel, celebrated creator of the ‘little black dress’.

Indeed, nostalgia for Chanel as well as Givenchy, Féraud and other designers from the heyday of Paris fashion in the 1950s have contributed to the big demand for vintage clothing. Twice a year the big auction house Hôtel Drouot hosts haute-couture auctions.

But it’s not all about yesterday and looking backward. There are, in fact, several contemporary ‘Paris styles’ that often relate to certain geographical areas and social classes. The funky streetwear style, heavily inspired by London, can be associated with the trendy shops around rue Étienne Marcel in the Louvre & Les Halles neighbourhood and the Marais. Meanwhile your more upper-crust ‘BCBG’ (bon chic bon genre) girl shops at Le Bon Marché Click here, Max Mara (Map; 01 47 20 61 13; 31 av Montaigne, 8e; Georges V) or Chanel and rarely ventures outside her preferred districts: the 7e, 8e and 16e. The chic Left Bank intello (intellectual) struts her agnès b Click here and APC Click here though if she’s a bit down on her luck she may discreetly buy used designer clothes at Chercheminippes, an upmarket secondhand boutique in the 6e.

The eastern districts of Oberkampf, Bastille, the area of the 10e around Canal St-Martin and the Batignolles section of Clichy in the 17e tend to be the stomping ground of the Bobo (bourgeois bohemian), whose take on style is doused in nostalgia for her voyage to India, Tibet or Senegal and her avowed commitment to free trade and beads. Younger professional Bobos frequent Colette, Kabuki Femme and Isabel Marant. Parisians with Mediterranean roots have a penchant for the more flamboyant Christian Lacroix, whose collections conjure up images of the south in a theatrical and colourful style. The flagship Louis Vuitton store on the av des Champs-Elysées draws in hordes of overseas shoppers, even on Sundays.


THE SHOW OF SHOWS
The Paris fashion haute-couture shows are scheduled in late January for the spring/summer collections and early July for autumn/winter ones. However, most established couturiers present a more affordable prêt-à-porter (ready-to-wear) line, and many have abandoned haute couture altogether. Prêt-à-porter shows are usually in late January and September. All major shows are ultra-exclusive affairs – even eminent fashion journalists must fight tooth and nail to get a spot on the sidelines. For an overview of Parisian fashion, check out Le Bon Marché Click here, which has an excellent collection of all the big labels and couture designs. For some catwalk action, there’s a weekly fashion show at Galeries Lafayette. In some stores you can join mailing lists to receive fashion-show invitations, but you need to be in Paris at the right time to attend.


SPEAKA DA LINGO
Verlan, a kind of French Pig Latin, has been the lingua franca of choice among the branché (hip) street-smart of Paris for almost two decades now. It’s really just a linguistic sleight of hand, and its very name is illustrative of how it works. L’envers means ‘reverse’ in French, right? Well, twist it around – take the ‘vers’ and have it precede the ‘l’en’ and you get verlan – more or less. Of course that’s the easy bit; shorter words – ‘meuf’ for femme (woman), ‘keum’ for mec (guy), ‘teuf’ for fête (party), ‘keuf’ for flic (cop) and ‘auch’ for chaud (hot; as in cool) are a bit trickier to recognise for the uninitiated.
In recent years the language has started to go mainstream and a few words of verlan – for example beur (French-born Algerian) – have entered the lexicography (if not dictionary) of standard French. Of course, the whole idea of verlan was for it to be a secret language – a kind of Cockney rhyming slang – for youths to communicate freely in front of parents, and criminals in front of the police. The next step was obvious: re-verlan words already in the lingo. Thus beur becomes reub and keuf is feuk. Fun (that’s English verlan for ‘enough’).

Despite the invasion of ‘Made in China’ clothes for clones, Parisians never look like fashion victims nor do they go in for anything remotely vulgar or brassy. They stick to a neutral palette: black, grey, beige, brown and white, adding good accessories and great haircuts. They may mix and match designer labels with H&M, making it look like it was all bought on the posh av Montaigne in the 8e. And it is this elegance that attracts visitors from around the globe.

This is a society that coined the expression lèche-vitrine (literally ‘window-licker’) for window-shopping; ‘tasting’ without buying is an art like any other so don’t be shy about just having a look. The fancy couture houses on av Montaigne may seem daunting, as many of their gleaming façades sit behind little fences, giving the impression of luxurious private homes. In most, however, no appointment is necessary and you can simply walk on in. Don’t expect overly friendly service but do expect courtesy; after all, how are they to know that behind your jeans-and-sneakers façade you’re not hiding a significant trust fund and a penchant for Lagerfeld?

No doubt about it, Parisians take fashion seriously and nowhere is that more obvious than in the new Cité de la Mode et du Design, known as ‘Docks en Seine’. The undulating green ‘wave’ that dances across the front façade is best appreciated from the other side of the river.

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LANGUAGE

Respect for the French language is one of the most important aspects of claiming French nationality, and the concept of la francophonie, linking the common interests everywhere French is spoken, is supported by both the government and the people. Modern French developed from the langue d’oïl, a group of dialects spoken north of the Loire River that grew out of the vernacular Latin used during the late Gallo-Roman period. The langue d’oïl – particularly the francien dialect spoken in the Île de France encircling Paris – eventually displaced the langue d’oc, the dialects spoken in the south of the country.

Standard French is taught and spoken in schools, but its various accents and subdialects are an important source of identity in certain regions. In addition, some languages belonging to peoples long since subjected to French rule have been preserved. These include Flemish in the far north; Alsatian on the German border; Breton, a Celtic tongue, in Brittany; Basque, a language unrelated to any other, in the Basque Country; Catalan, the official language of nearby Andorra and the autonomous Spanish republic of Catalonia, in Roussillon; Provençal in Provence; and Corsican, closely related to Tuscan Italian, on the island of Corsica.

French was the international language of culture and diplomacy until WWI, and the French are sensitive to its decline in importance and the hegemony of English, especially since the advent of the internet. It is virtually impossible to separate a French person from his or her language, and it is one of the things they love most about their own culture. Your best bet is always to approach people politely in French, even if the only words you know are ‘Pardon, parlez-vous anglais?’ (Excuse me, do you speak English?). Don’t worry; they won’t bite.

For more on what to say and how to say it en français, Click here. Lonely Planet also publishes the more comprehensive French phrasebook.

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TIMELINE


 
  • 3rd century BC   Celtic Gauls called Parisii – believed to mean ‘boat men’ – arrive in the Paris area and set up a few wattle-and-daub huts on what is now the Île de la Cité. Here they engage in fishing and trading.
  • 52 BC   Roman legions under Julius Caesar crush a Celtic revolt led by Vercingétorix on the Mons Lutetius (now the site of the Panthéon) and establish the town of Lutetia.
  • AD 845–86   Paris is repeatedly raided by Vikings for more than four decades including the siege of 885–86 by Siegfried the Saxon, which lasts 10 months but ends in victory for the French.
  • 1066   The so-called Norman Conquest (and subsequent occupation) of England ignites almost 300 years of conflict between the Normans in western and northern France and the Capetians in Paris.
  • 1163   Two centuries of nonstop building reaches its zenith with the start of Notre Dame Cathedral under Maurice de Sully, the bishop of Paris; construction will continue for more than a century and a half.
  • 1253   La Sorbonne is founded by Robert de Sorbon, confessor to Louis IX, as a theological college for impoverished students in the area of the Left Bank known as the Latin Quarter, where students and their teachers communicated in that language exclusively.
  • 1358   The Hundred Years’ War (1337–1453) between France and England and the devastation and poverty caused by the plague lead to the ill-fated peasants’ revolt led by Étienne Marcel.
  • 1429   French forces under Joan of Arc defeat the English near Orléans but three years later Joan is captured by the Burgundians, allies of the English, and burned at the stake in Rouen.
  • 1532–64   The 16th century is a period of heightened literary activity which sees the publication of Rabelais’ five-part satirical work Gargantua and Panagruel over more than three decades.
  • 1547–50   Some 39 Huguenots (French Protestants) are burned at the stake in place de Grève (today’s place de l’Hôtel de Ville), which spurs a nationwide religious civil war.
  • 1572   Some 3000 Huguenots in Paris to celebrate the wedding of the Protestant Henri of Navarre (the future Henri IV) are slaughtered on 23–24 August, in what is now called the St Bartholomew’s Day Massacre.
  • 1589   Henry IV, the first Bourbon king, ascends the throne after renouncing Protestantism; ‘Paris vaut bien une messe’ (Paris is well worth a Mass), he is reputed to have said upon taking communion at the basilica in St-Denis.
  • 1635   Cardinal Richelieu, de facto ruler during the undistinguished reign of Louis XIII (1617–43), founds the Académie Française, the first and best known of France’s five institutes of arts and sciences.
  • 1682   Louis XIV, the ‘Sun King’, moves his court from the Palais des Tuileries in Paris to Versailles in a bid to sidestep the endless intrigues of the capital; the cunning plan works.
  • 14 July 1789   The French Revolution begins when a mob arms itself with weapons taken from the Hôtel des Invalides and storms the prison at Bastille, freeing a total of just seven prisoners.
  • 1793   Louis XVI is tried and convicted as citizen ‘Louis Capet’ (as all kings since Hugh Capet were declared to have ruled illegally) and executed; Marie-Antoinette’s turn comes nine months later.
  • 1799   Napoleon Bonaparte overthrows the Directory and seizes control of the government in a coup d’état, opening the doors to 16 years of despotic rule, victory and then defeat on the battlefield.
  • 1815   British and Prussian forces under the Duke of Wellington defeat Napoleon at Waterloo; he is sent into exile for the second time, this time to a remote island in the South Atlantic where he dies six years later.
  • 1848   After more than three decades of monarchy, King Louis-Philippe is ousted and the short-lived Second Republic is established with Napoleon’s incompetent nephew at the helm.
  • 1852–70   Paris enjoys significant economic growth during the Second Empire of Napoleon III and much of the city is redesigned or rebuilt by Baron Haussmann as the Paris we know today.
  • 1870–1   Harsh terms inflicted on France by victor Prussia in the Franco-Prussian War leads to open revolt and the establishment of the insurrectionary Paris Commune.
  • 1889   The Eiffel Tower is completed in time for the opening of the 1889 Exposition Universelle (World Exhibition) but is vilified in the press and on the street as the ‘metal asparagus’ – or worse.
  • 1894   Army Captain Alfred Dreyfus is convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment on trumped-up charges of spying for Germany but is later exonerated despite widespread conservative opposition.
  • 1905   The emotions aroused by the Dreyfus affair and the interference of the Catholic Church leads to the promulgation of läcité (secularism), the legal separation of church and state.
  • 1918   Armistice ending WWI signed at Fôret de Compiègne near Paris sees the return of lost territories (Alsace and Lorraine); the war, however, had seen the loss of over a million French soldiers.
  • 1922   The doyenne at the centre of expatriate literary activity in Paris, Sylvia Beach of the Shakespeare & Company bookshop in rue de l’Odéon, publishes James Joyce’s Ulysses.
  • 1940   After more than 10 months of le drôle de guerre (phoney war) Germany launches the battle for France, and the four-year occupation of Paris under direct German rule begins.
  • 25 August 1944   Spearheaded by Free French units, Allied forces liberate Paris and the city escapes destruction, despite Hitler’s orders that it be torched; the war in Europe ends nine months later.
  • 1949   Simone de Beauvoir publishes her ground-breaking and very influential study Le Deuxième Sexe (The Second Sex) just four years after French women win the right to vote.
  • 1954   As a portent of what is to happen to the rest of its overseas empire, France loses its bid to reassert colonial control over Indochina when its forces are soundly defeated at Dien Bien Phu in Vietnam.
  • 1958   De Gaulle returns to power after more than a dozen years in the opposition to form the Fifth Republic, in which power is weighted in the presidency at the expense of the National Assembly.
  • 1962   War in Algeria is brought to an end after claiming the lives of more than 12,000 people; three-quarters of a million Algeria-born French citizens arrive in France and many taken up residency in Paris.
  • 1968   Paris is rocked by student-led riots that bring the nation and the city to the brink of civil war; as a result de Gaulle is forced to resign the following year.
  • 1977   The Centre Pompidou, the first of a string of grands projets, huge public edifices through which French leaders seek to immortalise themselves, opens to great controversy near Les Halles.
  • 1986   Victory for the opposition in the National Assembly elections forces President Mitterrand to work with a prime minister and cabinet from the right wing.
  • 1989   President Mitterrand’s grand projet, Opéra Bastille, opens to mark the bicentennial of the French Revolution; IM Pei’s Grande Pyramide is unveiled at the Louvre.
  • 1994   Eurostar trains link Waterloo station in London with the Gare du Nord in Paris in just over three hours.
  • 1998   France beats Brazil to win the World Cup at the spanking-new Stade de France (Stadium of France) in St-Denis north of central Paris.
  • 2001   Socialist Bertrand Delanoë becomes the first openly gay mayor of Paris (and of any European capital) but is wounded in a knife attack by a homophobic assailant the following year.
  • 2002   President Jacques Chirac overwhelmingly defeats Front National leader Jean-Marie Le Pen to win second term.
  • 2003   Hundreds of mostly elderly and housebound Parisians die from complications arising from an unusually hot summer; a review of the health and emergency-response systems gets under way.
  • 2004   France bans the wearing of Muslim headscarves and other religious symbols in schools.
  • 2005   The French electorate overwhelmingly rejects EU Constitution; the suburbs surrounding Paris are wracked by rioting by Arab and African youths.
  • 2007   Pro-American pragmatist, Nicolas Sarkozy, Interior Minister under Chirac, beats Socialist candidate Ségolène Royal to become France’s new president.
  • 2008   Mayor Bertrand Delanoë wins re-election to a second term of office.

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NEIGHBOURHOODS


ITINERARY BUILDER
LOUVRE & LES HALLES
MARAIS & BASTILLE
THE ISLANDS
    ÎLE DE LA CITÉ
    ÎLE ST-LOUIS
LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES
ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
MONTPARNASSE
FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES
EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT
ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE
OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS
GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE
MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE
GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY
13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN
15E ARRONDISSEMENT
MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE
LA VILLETTE
BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS
    BOIS DE VINCENNES & SURROUNDS
    BOIS DE BOULOGNE & SURROUNDS
    LA DÉFENSE
    ST-DENIS
    MONTMARTRE ART ATTACK
    PARISIAN ROUND-THE-WORLD TOUR
    RIGHT BANK TIME PASSAGES
    MEDIEVAL MEANDERINGS IN THE MARAIS
    LATIN QUARTER LITERARY LOOP



top picks
 






What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



Paris is a compact, easily negotiated city. Some 20 arrondissements (city districts) spiral clockwise from the centre and are important locators; their numbers are always included in addresses.

Each of Paris’ arrondissements has a distinct personality. The 1er has plenty of sights but few residents, the 5e is studenty, the 7e full of ministries and embassies; the 10e was traditionally working-class but is now a trendy district in which to live, while the 16e is a bastion of the well-heeled. But the profiles are not always so cut and dried; the lay of the land becomes much clearer to visitors when they see the city as composed of named quartiers (quarters or neighbourhoods).

This guide starts on the Right Bank, north of the Seine, in the area around the Louvre and Les Halles, which largely takes in the 1er but also part of the 2e and the westernmost edge of the 4e. Next come the Marais (4e and 3e) and the contiguous Bastille (11e) districts to the east and southeast. The two islands in the Seine – Île de la Cité and Île St-Louis – are on neither the Right nor Left Bank but they do belong to arrondissements – the 1er and 4e, respectively.

We encounter the Left Bank in the Latin Quarter, the traditional centre of learning in Paris, and the leafy Jardin des Plantes to the east of it (both 5e). The 6e, to the west and southwest, is both a frenetic district (St-Germain and Odéon) and tranquil park (Luxembourg). To the south is Montparnasse (14e), once the centre of nightlife. Faubourg St-Germain and Les Invalides to the north in the 7e are important for their sights but also as the locations of many branches of government and embassies. To the west is the Eiffel Tower and, across the Seine on the Right Bank, the posh 16e arrondissement, a district of broad, tree-lined avenues and some excellent museums.

To the east and still on the Right Bank is the 8e, which includes the lion’s share of Parisian icons: Étoile, with its landmark Arc de Triomphe, and the wide boulevard known as the Champs-Élysées. At the end of this grand avenue are two very important places (squares): Concorde and, to the north, Madeleine. Above the 8e is the multifaceted 17e, with its beautiful, Haussmann-era buildings beyond the Gare St-Lazare and the working-class neighbourhoods of Clichy. To the east is the 9e, where you’ll find the city’s original Opéra and the Grands Boulevards.

The 10e, hosting both the Gare du Nord and the Gare de l’Est, is the city’s rail hub. Below République (3e) and its enormous and chaotic square is the branché (trendy) district of Ménilmontant – awash in alternative bars, cafés and restaurants, especially along rue Oberkampf in the northern 11e – and to the east, the solidly working-class neighbourhood of Belleville (20e).

The 12e contains Gare de Lyon to the northwest, the huge square-cum-roundabout called Nation to the east and, to the south, the redeveloped area of Bercy, its old wine-warehouses now turned into a wining-and-dining ‘theme park’. Across the Seine is the 13e arrondissement, home to Chinatown and the grandiose Bibliothèque Nationale de France, and currently undergoing massive redevelopment. The 15e arrondissement, the largest and most populous district but arguably, least interesting to tourists, is to the west.

To the north in the 18e is Montmartre, the Paris of myth and films, and Pigalle, the naughty red-light district that today looks pretty tame. La Villette, with its lovely park, canal and cutting-edge museums in the far-flung 19e arrondissement of the northeast, is the last district of major importance intra-muros, Latin for ‘within the walls’ and what Parisians call central Paris. Areas of interest to visitors ‘outside the walls’ include the Bois de Vincennes and Bois de Boulogne, Paris’ ‘lungs’ and recreational centres to the east and the west respectively; La Défense, the futuristic business and residential district at the northern end of metro line 1; and St-Denis, to the north on metro line 13, which has an important 12th-century cathedral.

In this chapter, the Transport boxed texts provide quick reference for the location of metro and train stations, tram and bus stops, and ferry piers in each district.

Return to beginning of chapter


ITINERARY BUILDER
It’s easy to see lots of Paris in a very short time; as we point out in Introducing Paris, familiar sights and landmarks seem to leap out at you from every corner. But to really get under the skin of Paris you’ll want to look beyond the obvious. This Itinerary Builder should help you find a range of both obvious and slightly more obscure places in eight featured neighbourhoods.


HOW TO USE THIS TABLE
The table below allows you to plan a day’s worth of activities in any area of the city. Simply select which area you wish to explore, and then mix and match from the corresponding listings to build your day. The first item in each cell represents a well-known highlight of the area, while the other items are more off-the-beaten-track gems.

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LOUVRE & LES HALLES

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

The 1er arrondissement contains some of the most important sights for visitors to Paris. Though it can boast a wild and exciting side, it remains essentially a place where history and culture meet on the banks of the Seine.

Sculptures merge with lawns, pools and fountains, while casual strollers lose themselves in the lovely promenade stretching from the gardens of the Tuileries to the square courtyard of the Louvre. A few metres away, under the arcades of the rue de Rivoli, the pace quickens with bustling shops and chaotic traffic. Parallel to rue de Rivoli, rue St-Honoré runs from place Vendôme to Les Halles, leaving in its wake the Comédie Française and the manicured gardens of the Palais Royal.

The Forum des Halles and rue St-Denis seem kilometres away but are already visible, soliciting unwary passers-by with bright lights, jostling crowds and painted ladies. The mostly pedestrian zone between the Centre Pompidou and the Forum des Halles (with rue Étienne Marcel to the north and rue de Rivoli to the south) is filled with people day and night, just as it was for the 850-odd years when part of it served as Paris’ main halles (marketplace).

The Bourse (Stock Exchange) is the financial heart of the 2e arrondissement to the north, the Sentier district (around the Sentier metro and rue d’Aboukir and rue de Cléry), the centre of the city’s garment trade and the Opéra, its ode to music and dance. From rue de la Paix, where glittering jewellery shops display their wares, to blvd Poissonnière and blvd de Bonne Nouvelle, where stalls and fast-food outlets advertise with garish neon signs, this arrondissement is a real hotchpotch.

MUSÉE DU LOUVRE Map

01 40 20 53 17; www.louvre.fr; permanent collections/permanent collections & temporary exhibits €9/13, after 6pm Wed & Fri €6/11, permanent collections free for under 18yr & after 6pm Fri for 18-25yr, 1st Sun of the month free; 9am-6pm Mon, Thu, Sat & Sun, to 10pm Wed & Fri; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

The vast Palais du Louvre was constructed as a fortress by Philippe-Auguste in the early 13th century and rebuilt in the mid-16th century for use as a royal residence. The Revolutionary Convention turned it into a national museum in 1793.

The paintings, sculptures and artefacts on display in the Louvre Museum have been assembled by French governments over the past five centuries. Among them are works of art and artisanship from all over Europe and collections of Assyrian, Etruscan, Greek, Coptic and Islamic art and antiquities. The Louvre’s raison d’être is essentially to present Western art from the Middle Ages to about 1848 (at which point the Musée d’Orsay across the river takes over), as well as the works of ancient civilisations that formed the starting point for Western art.


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LOUVRE & LES HALLES
 

When the museum opened in the late 18th century it contained 2500 paintings and objets d’art; today some 35,000 are on display. The ‘Grand Louvre’ project inaugurated by the late President Mitterrand in 1989 doubled the museum’s exhibition space, and new and renovated galleries have opened in recent years devoted to objets d’art such as Sèvres porcelain and the crown jewels of Louis XV (Room 66, 1st floor, Apollo Gallery, Denon Wing).

Daunted by the richness and sheer size of the place (the side facing the Seine is 700m long and it is said that it would take nine months to see every piece of art in the museum), locals and visitors alike often find the prospect of an afternoon at a smaller museum far more inviting, meaning the Louvre may be the most actively avoided museum in the world. Eventually, most people do their duty and visit, but many leave overwhelmed, unfulfilled, exhausted and frustrated at having got lost on their way to da Vinci’s La Joconde, better known as Mona Lisa (Room 6, 1st floor, Salle de la Joconde, Denon Wing; boxed text). Since it takes several serious visits to get anything more than a brief glimpse of the works on offer, your best bet – after checking out a few that you really want to see – is to choose a particular period or section of the Louvre and pretend that the rest is in another museum somewhere across town.

The most famous works from antiquity include the Seated Scribe (Room 22, 1st floor, Sully Wing), the Code of Hammurabi (Room 3, ground floor, Richelieu Wing) and that armless duo, the Venus de Milo (Room 7, ground floor, Denon Wing) and the Winged Victory of Samothrace (opposite Room 1, 1st floor, Denon Wing). From the Renaissance, don’t miss Michelangelo’s The Dying Slave (ground floor, Michelangelo Gallery, Denon Wing) and works by Raphael, Botticelli and Titian (1st floor, Denon Wing). French masterpieces of the 19th century include Ingres’ The Turkish Bath (Room 60, 2nd floor, Sully Wing), Géricault’s The Raft of the Medusa (Room 77, 1st floor, Denon Wing) and works by Corot, Delacroix and Fragonard (2nd floor, Denon Wing).

The main entrance and ticket windows in the Cour Napoléon are covered by the 21m-high Grande Pyramide, a glass pyramid designed by the Chinese-born American architect IM Pei. You can avoid the queues outside the pyramid or at the Porte des Lions entrance by entering the Louvre complex via the Carrousel du Louvre entrance (Map), at 99 rue de Rivoli, or by following the ‘Musée du Louvre’ exit from the Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre metro station. Buy your tickets in advance from the ticket machines in the Carrousel du Louvre, online or by ringing 08 92 68 36 22 or 08 25 34 63 46, or from the billeteries (ticket offices) of Fnac for an extra €1.10, and walk straight in without queuing. Tickets are valid for the whole day, so you can come and go as you please. They are also valid for the Musée National Eugène Delacroix on the same day.

The Louvre is divided into four sections: the Sully, Denon and Richelieu Wings and Hall Napoléon. Sully creates the four sides of the Cour Carrée (literally ‘square courtyard’) at the eastern end of the complex. Denon stretches along the Seine to the south; Richelieu is the northern wing runing along rue de Rivoli.


TRANSPORT: LOUVRE & LES HALLES
Bus Louvre (rue de Rivoli) for 27 over Pont St-Michel, up blvd St-Michel to Jardin du Luxembourg, rue Claude Bernard (for rue Mouffetard) & Place d’Italie; rue de Rivoli (near Louvre Rivoli metro) for 69 to Invalides, Champ de Mars (Eiffel Tower) and for 72 for place de la Concorde, Grand Palais, Alma Marceau, Bois de Boulogne & Porte de St-Cloud; Châtelet for 38 to blvd St-Michel & Jardin du Luxembourg, for 47 to Place Monge (rue Mouffetard), Place d’Italie and 13e (Chinatown), for 67 to Pigalle & for 85 to Barbès & Porte de Clignancourt & Porte de St-Ouen flea markets

Metro & RER Bourse, Châtelet, Châtelet-Les Halles, Concorde, Étienne Marcel, Les Halles, Louvre-Rivoli, Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre, Pont Neuf, Rambuteau, Tuileries

Boat Musée du Louvre Batobus stop (quai du Louvre)

The split-level public area under the Grande Pyramide is known as the Hall Napoléon ( 9am-10pm Wed-Mon). The hall has an exhibit on the history of the Louvre, a bookshop, restaurant, café, auditoriums for concerts, lectures and films, and CyberLouvre ( 10am-5.45pm Wed-Mon), an internet research centre with online access to some 35,000 works of art. The centrepiece of the Carrousel du Louvre, the shopping centre that runs underground from the pyramid to the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, is the pyramide inversée (inverted glass pyramid), also the work of Pei.

Free English-language maps of the complex (entitled Louvre Plan/Information) can be obtained from the circular information desk in the centre of the Hall Napoléon. Excellent publications to guide you if you are doing the Louvre on your own are Destination Louvre: A Guided Tour (€7.50), Louvre: Guide to the Masterpieces (€8) and the hefty, 475-page A Guide to the Louvre (€17). Much more esoteric are the specialist titles Cats in the Louvre and the competing Dogs in the Louvre, each priced at €15. An attractive and useful memento is the DVD entitled Louvre: The Visit (€26). All are available from the museum bookshop.

English-language guided tours ( 01 40 20 52 63) lasting 1½ hours depart from the area under the Grande Pyramide, marked Acceuil des Groupes (Groups Reception), at 11am, 2pm and (sometimes) 3.45pm Monday to Saturday. Tickets cost €5 in addition to the cost of admission. Groups are limited to 30 people, so it’s a good idea to sign up at least 30 minutes before departure time.

Self-paced audioguide tours in six languages, with 1½ hours of commentary, can be rented for €5 under the pyramid at the entrance to each wing.

LES ARTS DÉCORATIFS Map

01 44 55 57 50; www.lesartsdecoratifs.fr; 107 rue de Rivoli, 1er; adult/18-25yr €8/6.50, under 18 free; 11am-6pm Tue, Wed & Fri, to 9pm Thu, 10am-6pm Sat & Sun; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

The Palais du Louvre contains three other museums collectively known as the Decorative Arts in its Rohan Wing. Admission, which may vary depending on the exhibitions, includes entry to all three.

The Musée des Arts Décoratifs (Applied Arts Museum), which begins on the 3rd floor, displays furniture, jewellery and such objets d’art as ceramics and glassware from the Middle Ages and the Renaissance through the Art Nouveau and Art Deco periods to modern times.

The Musée de la Publicité (Advertising Museum), which shares the 3rd floor, has some 100,000 posters in its collection dating as far back as the 13th century, and innumerable promotional materials touting everything from 19th-century elixirs and early radio advertisements to Air France as well as electronic publicity. Only certain items are exhibited at any one time; most of the rest of the space is given over to special exhibitions.

The Musée de la Mode et du Textile (Museum of Fashion & Textiles) on the 1st and 2nd floors has some 16,000 costumes dating from the 16th century to today, including haute couture creations by the likes of Chanel and Christian Lacroix. Most of the outfits are warehoused, however, and displayed during regularly scheduled themed exhibitions.

ARC DE TRIOMPHE DU CARROUSEL Map

place du Carrousel, 1er; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

Erected by Napoleon to celebrate his battlefield successes of 1805, this triumphal arch, which is set in the Jardin du Carrousel at the eastern end of the Jardin des Tuileries, was once crowned by the ancient Greek sculpture called The Horses of St Mark’s, ‘borrowed’ from the portico of St Mark’s Basilica in Venice by Napoleon but returned after his defeat at Waterloo in 1815. The quadriga (the two-wheeled chariot drawn by four horses) that replaced it was added in 1828 and celebrates the return of the Bourbons to the French throne after Napoleon’s downfall. The sides of the arch are adorned with depictions of Napoleonic victories and eight pink-marble columns, atop each of which stands a soldier of the emperor’s Grande Armée.

ÉGLISE ST-GERMAIN L’AUXERROIS Map

01 42 60 13 96; 2 place du Louvre, 1er; 8am-7pm; Louvre-Rivoli or Pont Neuf

Built between the 13th and 16th centuries in a mixture of Gothic and Renaissance styles and with similar dimensions and ground plans to those of Notre Dame, this once royal parish church stands on a site at the eastern end of the Louvre that has been used for Christian worship since about AD 500. After being mutilated in the 18th century by clergy intent on ‘modernisation’, and damaged during the Revolution, the church was restored by the Gothic Revivalist architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc in the mid-19th century. It contains some fine Renaissance stained glass.


THE INS AND OUTS OF PARIS
When a building is put up in a location where they’ve run out of consecutive street numbers in Paris, a new address is formed by fusing the number of an adjacent building with the notation bis (twice), ter (thrice) or even quater (four times). In essence, the street numbers 17bis and 89ter are the equivalent of 17a and 89b in English.
The portes cochères (street doors) of most apartment buildings in Paris can be opened only by digicode (entry code), which is usually alphanumeric (eg 26A10) and changed periodically; the days of the concierges, who would vet every caller before allowing them in, are well and truly over.
The doors of many apartments are unmarked: the occupants’ names are nowhere in sight and there isn’t even an apartment number. To know which door to knock on, you’ll usually be given cryptic instructions, such as cinquième étage, premier à gauche (5th floor, first on the left) or troisième étage, droite droite (3rd floor, turn right twice).
In France (and in this book), the 1st floor is the floor above the rez-de-chaussée (ground floor).

LOUVRE DES ANTIQUAIRES Map

01 42 97 27 27; www.louvre-antiquaires.com; 2 place du Palais Royal; 11am-7pm Tue-Sun Sep-Jun, to 7pm Tue-Sat Jul & Aug; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

A tourist attraction in itself, this extremely elegant ‘mall’ houses some 140 antique shops spread over three floors and is filled with objets d’art, furniture, clocks, classical antiquities and jewellery. Visit the place as you would the Louvre across the road, bearing in mind that all the stuff here is up for grabs.

JARDIN DES TUILERIES Map

01 40 20 90 43; 7am-9pm Apr, May & Sep, 7am-11pm Jun-Aug, 7.30am-7.30pm Oct-Mar; Tuileries or Concorde

The formal, 28-hectare Tuileries Garden, which begins just west of the Jardin du Carrousel, was laid out in its present form, more or less, in the mid-17th century by André Le Nôtre, who also created the gardens at Vaux-le-Vicomte and Versailles. The Tuileries soon became the most fashionable spot in Paris for parading about in one’s finery; today it is a favourite of joggers and forms part of the Banks of the Seine World Heritage Site as listed by Unesco in 1991. There are some lovely sculptures within the gardens, including Louise Bourgeois’ The Welcoming Hands (1996), which faces place de la Concorde.

The Voie Triomphale (Triumphal Way), also called the Axe Historique (Historic Axis), the western continuation of the Tuileries’ east-west axis, follows the av des Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe and, ultimately, to the Grande Arche in the skyscraper district of La Défense.

JEU DE PAUME Map

01 47 03 12 50; www.jeudepaume.org; 1 place de la Concorde, 8e; adult/senior, student & 13-18yr €6/3; noon-9pm Tue, to 7pm Wed-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat & Sun; Concorde

The Galerie du Jeu de Paume – Site Concorde (Jeu de Paume National Gallery at Concorde), which stages innovative exhibitions of contemporary art, is housed in an erstwhile jeu de paume (real, or royal, tennis court), built in 1861 during the reign of Napoleon III, in the northwestern corner of the Jardin des Tuileries. A branch of the gallery, the Jeu de Paume – Site Sully in the Hôtel de Sully in the Marais (4e) concentrates on top-notch photography. A joint ticket to both galleries costs €8/4 adult/concession.

MUSÉE DE L’ORANGERIE Map

01 44 77 80 07; www.musee-orangerie.fr; Jardin des Tuileries, 1er; adult/senior, student & 13-18yr €6.50/4.50, 1st Sun of the month free; 12.30-7pm Wed, Thu & Sat-Mon, to 9pm Fri; Concorde

This museum in the southwestern corner of the Jardin des Tuileries is, with the Jeu de Paume, all that remains of the once palatial Palais des Tuileries, which was razed during the Paris Commune in 1871. It exhibits important impressionist works, including an eight-panel series of Monet’s Decorations des Nymphéas (Water Lilies) in two huge oval rooms purpose-built in 1927 to the artist’s specifications, as well as paintings by Cézanne, Matisse, Picasso, Renoir, Sisley, Soutine and Utrillo.

PLACE VENDÔME Map

Tuileries or Opéra

This octagonal square, and the arcaded and colonnaded buildings around it, was built between 1687 and 1721. In March 1796, Napoleon married Josephine, Viscountess of Beauharnais, in the building that’s at No 3 in the southwest corner. Today, the buildings around the square house the posh Hôtel Ritz Paris and some of the city’s most fashionable boutiques, especially jewellery stores – place Vendôme has been synonymous with the bauble trade since the Second Empire of the mid-19th century.


MONA LISA: THE TRUTH BEHIND THE SMILE
So much has been written – most recently (and most widely read) by Dan Brown in his best-selling novel The Da Vinci Code – about the painting the French call La Joconde and the Italians La Gioconda, yet so little has been known of the lady behind that enigmatic smile. For centuries admirers speculated on everything from the possibility that the subject was mourning the death of a loved one to that she might have been in love – or in bed – with her portraitist.
Mona (actually monna in Italian) is a contraction of madonna, while Gioconda is the feminine form of the surname Giocondo. With the emergence of several clues in recent years, it is has been established almost certainly that the subject was Lisa Gherardini (1479–1539?), the wife of Florentine merchant Franceso del Giocondo, and that the painting was done between 1503 and 1506 when she was around 25 years old. At the same time, tests done in 2005 with ‘emotion recognition’ computer software suggest that the smile on ‘Madam Lisa’ is at least 83% happy. And one other point remains unequivocally certain despite occasional suggestions to the contrary: she was not the lover of Leonardo, who preferred his Vitruvian Man to his Mona.

In the centre of the square stands the 43.5m-tall Colonne Vendôme (Vendôme Column) which consists of a stone core wrapped in a 160m-long bronze spiral that’s made from hundreds of Austrian and Russian cannons captured by Napoleon at the Battle of Austerlitz in 1805. The 425 bas-reliefs on the spiral celebrate Napoleon’s victories between 1805 and 1807. The statue on top depicts Napoleon in classical Roman dress.

PALAIS ROYAL Map

place du Palais Royal, 1er; www.monuments-nationaux.fr; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

The Royal Palace, which accommodated a young Louis XIV for a time in the 1640s, lies to the north of place du Palais Royal and the Louvre. Construction was begun in 1624 by Cardinal Richelieu, though most of the present neoclassical complex dates from the latter part of the 18th century. It now contains the governmental Conseil d’État (State Council; Map) and is closed to the public.

The colonnaded building facing place André Malraux is the Comédie Française (Click here; Map), founded in 1680 and the world’s oldest national theatre.

Just north of the palace is the Jardin du Palais Royal (Map; 01 47 03 92 16; 6 rue de Montpensier, 1er; 7.30am-10pm Apr & May, 7am-11pm Jun-Aug, 7am-9.30pm Sep, 7.30am-8.30pm Oct-Mar), a lovely park surrounded by two arcades. On the eastern side, Galerie de Valois (Map) shelters designer fashion shops, art galleries and jewellers, while Galerie de Montpensier (Map) on the western side still has a few old shops remaining.

At the southern end there’s a controversial sculpture (Map) of black-and-white striped columns of various heights by Daniel Buren. It was started in 1986, interrupted by irate Parisians and finished – following the intervention of the Ministry of Culture and Communication – in 1995. The story (invented by Buren?) goes that if you toss a coin and it lands on one of the columns, your wish will come true.

CABINET DES MÉDAILLES ET MONNAIES Map

01 53 79 82 26; www.bnf.fr; 58 rue de Richelieu, 2e; admission free; 1-5.45pm Mon-Fri, 1-4.15pm Sat; Bourse

Housed in the original home of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France is this enormous hoard of coins, medals and tokens numbering more than 500,000. There’s also an important collection of antiques, including items confiscated during the French Revolution from Ste-Chapelle and the abbey at St-Denis, including silverware, jewellery and the so-called Dagobert’s Throne, dating from the 7th century, on which French kings were once crowned.

CENTRE POMPIDOU Map

01 44 78 12 33; www.centrepompidou.fr; place Georges Pompidou, 4e; Rambuteau

The Centre National d’Art et de Culture Georges Pompidou (Georges Pompidou National Centre of Art & Culture), also known as the Centre Beaubourg, has amazed and delighted visitors since it was inaugurated in 1977, not just for its outstanding collection of modern art but for its radical architectural statement Click here.

The Forum du Centre Pompidou (admission free; 11am-10pm Wed-Mon), the open space at ground level, has temporary exhibits and information desks. The 4th and 5th floors of the centre exhibit a fraction of the 50,000-plus works of the Musée National d’Art Moderne (MNAM; National Museum of Modern Art; adult €10-12, senior & 18-25yr €8-10, under 18yr free, 6-9pm Wed free for 18-25yr, 1st Sun of the month free; 11am-9pm Wed-Mon), France’s national collection of art dating from 1905 onward, and including the work of the surrealists and cubists as well as pop art and contemporary works.

The huge Bibliothèque Publique d’Information (BPI; 01 44 78 12 33; www.bpi.fr; noon-10pm Mon & Wed-Fri, 11am-10pm Sat & Sun), entered from rue du Renard, takes up part of the 1st as well as the entire 2nd and 3rd floors of the centre. The 6th floor has two galleries for temporary exhibitions (usually now included in the higher entrance fee) and a restaurant from the trendy Costes stable called Georges, with panoramic views of Paris. There are cinemas (adult/senior & 18-25yr €6/4) and other entertainment venues on the 1st floor and in the basement.

West of the centre, Place Georges Pompidou and the nearby pedestrian streets attract buskers, musicians, jugglers and mime artists, and can be a lot of fun. South of the centre on place Igor Stravinsky, the fanciful mechanical fountains (Map) of skeletons, hearts, treble clefs and a big pair of ruby-red lips, created by Jean Tinguely and Niki de St-Phalle, are a positive delight.

The Atelier Brancusi (Map; 55 rue Rambuteau, 4e; admission free; 2-6pm Wed-Mon), across place Georges Pompidou to the west of the main building, was designed by Renzo Piano and contains almost 160 examples of the work of Romanian-born sculptor Constantin Brancusi (1876–1957) as well as drawings, paintings and glass photographic plates.

FORUM DES HALLES Map

01 44 76 96 56; www.forum-des-halles.com; 1 rue Pierre Lescaut, 1er; shops 10am-7.30pm; Les Halles or Châtelet les Halles

Les Halles, the city’s main wholesale food market, occupied the area just south of the Église St-Eustache from the early 12th century until 1969, when it was moved lox, stock and lettuce leaf to the southern suburb of Rungis, near Orly. In its place, this unspeakably ugly, four-level, underground shopping centre with 180 shops was constructed in the glass-and-chrome style of the late 1970s; it’s slated to be gutted and rebuilt by 2010. Topping the complex on the street level is a popular garden with a rather stunning sculpture by Henri de Miller (1953–99) called Listen. In the warmer months, street musicians, fire-eaters and other performers display their talents here, especially at place Jean du Bellay, which is adorned by a multi-tiered Renaissance fountain, the Fontaine des Innocents (1549). It is named after the Cimetière des Innocents, a cemetery formerly on this site from which two million skeletons were disinterred after the Revolution and transferred to the Catacombes.

ÉGLISE ST-EUSTACHE Map

01 42 36 31 05; www.saint-eustache.org in French; 2 impasse St-Eustache, 1er; audioguide €3; 9.30am-7pm Mon-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat, 9am-7.15pm Sun; Les Halles

This majestic church, one of the most beautiful in Paris, is just north of the gardens next to the Forum des Halles. Constructed between 1532 and 1637, St-Eustache is primarily Gothic, though a neoclassical façade was added on the western side in the mid-18th century. Inside, there are some exceptional Flamboyant Gothic arches holding up the ceiling of the chancel, though most of the ornamentation is Renaissance and even classical. Above the western entrance, the gargantuan organ, with 101 stops and 8000 pipes dating from 1854, is used for concerts (long a tradition here) and at Sunday Mass (11am and 6.30pm).


MUSEUM CLOSING TIMES
The vast majority of museums in Paris close on Mondays though more than a dozen, including the Louvre, the Centre Pompidou, the Musée Picasso and the Musée National du Moyen Age, are closed on Tuesdays instead. It is also important to remember that all museums and monuments in Paris shut their doors or gates between 30 minutes and an hour before their actual closing times, which are the ones we list in this chapter. Therefore if we say a museum or monument closes at 6pm, for example, don’t count on getting in much later than 5pm.

BOURSE DE COMMERCE Map

01 55 65 55 65; 2 rue de Viarmes, 1er; admission free; 9am-6pm Mon-Fri; Les Halles

At one time the city’s grain market, the circular Trade Exchange was capped with a copper dome in 1811. The murals running along internal walls below the galleries were painted in 1889 and restored in 1998. They represent French trade and industry through the ages.

TOUR JEAN SANS PEUR Map

01 40 26 20 28; www.tourjeansanspeur.com in French; 20 rue Étienne Marcel, 2e; adult/student & 7-18yr €5/3; 1.30-6pm Wed-Sun Apr-Oct, 1.30-6pm Wed, Sat & Sun Nov-Mar; Étienne Marcel

The Gothic, 29m-high Tower of John the Fearless was built by the Duke of Bourgogne as part of a splendid mansion in the early 15th century, so he could take refuge from his enemies at the top. It is one of the very few examples of feudal military architecture extant in Paris. Visitors can ascend the 140 steps of the spiral staircase to the turret on top. A guided tour at 3pm costs €8.

TOUR ST-JACQUES Map

square de la Tour St-Jacques, 4e; Châtelet

The Flamboyant Gothic, 52m-high St James Tower just north of place du Châtelet is all that remains of the Église St-Jacques la Boucherie, which was built by the powerful butchers guild in 1523 as a starting point for pilgrims setting out for the shrine of St James at Santiago de Compostela in Spain. The church was demolished by the revolutionary Directory in 1797, but the bell tower was spared so it could be used to drop globules of molten lead in the manufacture of shot.

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MARAIS & BASTILLE

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

The Marais, the area of the Right Bank north of Île St-Louis, was exactly what its name in French implies – ‘marsh’ or ‘swamp’ – until the 13th century, when it was converted to farmland. In the early 17th century, Henri IV built the place Royale (today’s place des Vosges), turning the area into Paris’ most fashionable residential district and attracting wealthy aristocrats who then erected their own luxurious private mansions.

When the aristocracy moved out of Paris to Versailles and Faubourg St-Germain during the late 17th and the 18th centuries, the Marais and its town houses passed into the hands of ordinary Parisians. The 110-hectare area was given a major face-lift in the late 1960s and early ’70s.

Though the Marais has become a coveted trendy address in recent years, it remains home to a long-established Jewish community. The historic Jewish quarter – the so-called Pletzl – starts in rue des Rosiers, then continues along rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie to rue du Temple, where expensive boutiques sit side-by-side with Jewish bookshops and stores selling religious goods and cacher (kosher) grocery shops, butchers, restaurants and takeaway falafel joints. Don’t miss the Art Nouveau synagogue (Map; 10 rue Pavée, 4e) designed in 1913 by Hector Guimard, who was also responsible for the city’s famous metro entrances (boxed text). You’ll also find a lot of gay and lesbian bars and restaurants in this area as well.

After years as a run-down immigrant neighbourhood notorious for its high crime rate, the Bastille area has undergone a fair degree of gentrification, which started with the advent of the Opéra Bastille almost two decades ago. The courtyards and alleyways of the 11e arrondissement used to belong to artisans and labourers; the areas around rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, rue de Charonne and rue de la Roquette buzzed with the sound of cabinet makers, joiners, gilders and the like at work. Today most of that’s gone, replaced with artists and their lofts. But the old spirit lives on in some hidden parts of the 11e, and the areas to the east of place de la Bastille in particular retain their lively atmosphere and ethnicity.

HÔTEL DE VILLE Map

39 75; www.paris.fr; place de l’Hôtel de Ville, 4e; Hôtel de Ville

After having been gutted during the Paris Commune of 1871, Paris’ city hall was rebuilt in luxurious neo-Renaissance style from 1874 to 1882. The ornate façade is decorated with 108 statues of noteworthy Parisians. There’s a Salon d’Accueil (Reception Hall; 29 rue de Rivoli, 4e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat), which dispenses information and brochures and is used for temporary (and very popular) exhibitions, usually with a Paris theme. Some exhibits take place in the Salle St-Jean (5 rue Lobau, 4e), which is entered from the eastern side of the building.


TRANSPORT: MARAIS & BASTILLE
Bus Rue des Francs Bourgeois for 29 to Bastille & Gare de Lyon; rue de Rivoli for 76 through the 11e via rue de Charonne to 20e & Porte de Bagnolet

Metro Arts et Métiers, Bastille, Chemin Vert, Hôtel de Ville, Pont Marie, Rambuteau, St-Paul

Boat Hôtel de Ville Batobus stop (quai de l’Hôtel de Ville); Canauxrama pier at Port de Arsenal (12e) opposite 50 blvd de la Bastille for canal boat to Bassin de la Villette (13 quai de la Loire)

PLACE DES VOSGES Map

St-Paul or Bastille

Inaugurated in 1612 as place Royale and thus the oldest square in Paris, Place des Vosges (4e) is an ensemble of 36 symmetrical houses with ground-floor arcades, steep slate roofs and large dormer windows arranged around a large square. Only the earliest houses were built of brick; to save time, the rest were given timber frames and faced with plaster, which was later painted to resemble brick. The square received its present name in 1800 to honour the Vosges département (administrative division) for being the first in France to pay its taxes.

The author Victor Hugo lived in an apartment on the 3rd floor of the square’s Hôtel de Rohan-Guéménée from 1832 to 1848, moving here a year after the publication of Notre Dame de Paris (The Hunchback of Notre Dame); he completed Ruy Blas while in residence here. The Maison de Victor Hugo (Map; Victor Hugo House; 01 42 72 10 16; www.musee-hugo.paris.fr; 6 place des Vosges, 4e; temporary exhibits adult/14-26yr/senior & student €7/3.50/5.50, permanent collections free, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun) is now a municipal museum devoted to the life and times of the celebrated novelist and poet, with an impressive collection of his personal drawings and portraits.

HÔTEL DE SULLY Map

62 rue St-Antoine, 4e; St-Paul

This aristocratic mansion dating from the early 17th century today houses the headquarters of the Centre des Monuments Nationaux (Monum; 01 44 61 20 00; www.monuments-nationaux.fr; 9am-12.45pm & 2-6pm Mon-Thu, 9am-12.45pm & 2-5pm Fri), the body responsible for many of France’s historical monuments; there are brochures and lots of information available on sites nationwide. Here you’ll also find the Jeu de Paume – Site Sully ( 01 42 74 47 75; www.jeudepaume.org; adult/senior, student & 13-18yr €5/2.50; noon-7pm Tue-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat & Sun), a branch of the more famous Galerie de Jeu de Paume, with excellent rotating photographic exhibits. Visiting both galleries costs €8/4. The Hôtel de Sully bookshop is excellent, and the two Renaissance-style courtyards are worth the trip alone.

MUSÉE CARNAVALET Map

01 44 59 58 58; www.carnavalet.paris.fr in French; 23 rue de Sévigné, 3e; temporary exhibits adult/14-26yr/senior & student €7/3.50/5.50, permanent collections free, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

This museum, subtitled Musée de l’Histoire de Paris (Paris History Museum), is housed in two hôtels particuliers (private mansions): the mid-16th-century, Renaissance-style Hôtel Carnavalet, home to the letter-writer Madame de Sévigné from 1677 to 1696, and the Hôtel Le Peletier de St-Fargeau, which dates from the late 17th century.


IF WALLS COULD TALK
Centuries of history are inscribed on the façades and pediments of the 4e arrondissement and in the narrow streets, alleys, porches and courtyards; today the Marais is one of the few neighbourhoods of Paris that still has most of its pre-Revolution architecture intact. These include the house at 3 rue Volta (Map) in the 3e arrondissement, parts of which date back to 1292; the one at 51 rue de Montmorency, also in the 3e and dating back to 1407 which is now a restaurant called Auberge Nicolas Flamel; and the half-timbered 16th-century building at 11 and 13 rue François Miron (Map) in the 4e.

The artefacts on display in the museum’s sublime rooms chart the history of Paris from the Gallo-Roman period to modern times. Some of the nation’s most important documents, paintings and other objects from the French Revolution are here (Rooms 101 to 113), as is Fouquet’s stunning Art Nouveau jewellery shop from the rue Royale (Room 142) and Marcel Proust’s cork-lined bedroom from his apartment on blvd Haussmann (Room 147), where he wrote most of the 7350-page literary cycle À la Recherche du Temps Perdu (Remembrance of Things Past).

MUSÉE PICASSO Map

01 42 71 25 21; www.musee-picasso.fr in French; 5 rue de Thorigny, 3e; adult/18-25yr €7.70/5.70, under 18yr free, 1st Sun of the month free; 9.30am-6pm Wed-Mon Apr-Sep, 9.30am-5.30pm Wed-Mon Oct-Mar; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

The Picasso Museum, housed in the stunning Hôtel Salé, built for a wealthy farmer called Aubert de Fontenay in 1656, forms one of Paris’ best-loved art collections. It includes just over 3500 drawings, engravings, paintings, ceramic works and sculptures from the grand maître (great master), which the heirs of Pablo Picasso (1881–1973) donated to the French government in lieu of paying inheritance taxes. Among the collection is his Girl with Bare Feet, painted when Picasso was only 14. You can also view part of Picasso’s personal art collection, which includes works by Braque, Cézanne, Matisse, Modigliani, Degas and Rousseau.

MUSÉE COGNACQ-JAY Map

01 40 27 07 21; www.cognacq-jay.paris.fr in French; 8 rue Elzévir, 3e; permanent collections free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

This museum in the Hôtel de Donon brings together oil paintings, pastels, sculpture, objets d’art, jewellery, porcelain and furniture from the 18th century assembled by Ernest Cognacq (1839–1928), founder of La Samaritaine department store (now undergoing a complete overhaul) and his wife Louise Jay. Although Cognacq appreciated little of his collection, boasting to all who would listen that he had never visited the Louvre and was only acquiring collections for the status, the artwork and objets d’art give a pretty good idea of upper-class tastes during the Age of Enlightenment.


top picks
MARAIS & BASTILLE
 

ARCHIVES NATIONALES Map

01 40 27 60 96; www.archivesnationales.culture.gouv.fr in French; 60 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 3e; Rambuteau or St-Paul

France’s National Archives are housed in the Soubise wing of the impressive, early-18th-century Hôtel de Rohan-Soubise, which also contains the Musée de l’Histoire de France (Museum of French History; 01 40 27 62 18; www.archivesnationales.culture.gouv.fr/chan in French; adult/senior & 18-25yr €3/2.30, under 18yr free, 1st Sun of the month free; 10am-12.30pm & 2-5.30pm Mon & Wed-Fri, 2-5.30pm Sat & Sun; Rambuteau or St-Paul). The museum contains antique furniture and 18th-century paintings but primarily documents – everything from medieval incunabula and letters written by Joan of Arc to the wills of Louis XIV and Napoleon. The ceiling and walls of the interior are extravagantly painted and gilded in the rococo style; look out for the Cabinet des Singes, a simian-filled room painted by Christophe Huet between 1749 and 1752.

MUSÉE DES ARTS ET MÉTIERS Map

01 53 01 82 00; www.arts-et-metiers.net; 60 rue de Réaumur, 3e; temporary exhibits adult/student & 6-18yr €5.50/3.50, permanent collections free, under 5yr free; 10am-6pm Tue, Wed & Fri-Sun, to 9.30pm Thu; Arts et Métiers

The Arts & Crafts Museum, the oldest museum of science and technology in Europe, is a must for anyone with an interest in how things work. Housed in the 18th-century priory of St-Martin des Champs, some 3000 instruments, machines and working models from the 18th to 20th centuries are displayed across three floors. Taking pride of place is Foucault’s original pendulum, which he introduced to the world in 1855. There are lots of workshops and other activities here for children. An audioguide costs €2.50.

MUSÉE DE LA CHASSE ET DE LA NATURE Map

01 53 01 92 40; www.chassenature.org, in French; Hôtel Guénégaud, 62 rue des Archives, 3e; adult/student & 18-25yr €6/4.50, under 18yr free; 11am-6pm Tue-Sun; Rambuteau or Hôtel de Ville

The Hunting and Nature Museum may sound like an oxymoron to the politically correct, but in France, where hunting is a very big deal, to show your love for nature is to go out and shoot something – or so it would seem. The delightful Hôtel Guénégaud, dating from 1651 and now open after a two-year renovation, is positively crammed with weapons, paintings, sculpture and objets d’art related to hunting and, of course, lots and lots of trophies – horns, antlers, heads.

MUSÉE D’ART ET D’HISTOIRE DU JUDAÏSME Map

01 53 01 86 60; www.mahj.org; 71 rue du Temple, 3e; adult/student & 18-26yr €6.80/4.50 incl audioguide, under 18yr free; 11am-6pm Mon-Fri, 10am-6pm Sun; Rambuteau

The Museum of the Art & History of Judaism, housed in the sumptuous Hôtel de St-Aignan (1650), traces the evolution of Jewish communities from the Middle Ages to the present, with particular emphasis on the history of the Jews in France but also that of communities in other parts of Europe and North Africa. Highlights include documents relating to the Dreyfus Affair and works by Chagall, Modigliani and Soutine. Temporary exhibits cost an extra €5.50/4 and a combined ticket is €8.50/6.

MUSÉE DE LA POUPÉE Map

01 42 72 73 11; www.museedelapoupeeparis.com; impasse Berthaud, 3e; adult/aged 3-11yr/senior & 12-25yr €7/3/5, adult €4 10am-1pm Sat & Sun; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Rambuteau

Frightening to some – all those beady eyes and silent screams – the Doll Museum is more for adults than for children. There are around 500 of the lifeless creatures, dating back to 1800, all arranged in scenes representing Paris through the centuries. There are temporary exhibitions (think Barbie and Cindy and ‘France’s best plush animals’) as well as a ‘hospital’ for antique dolls.

MÉMORIAL DE LA SHOAH Map

01 42 77 44 72; www.memorialdelashoah.org; 17 rue Geoffroy-l’Asnier, 4e; admission free; 10am-6pm Sun-Wed & Fri, to 10pm Thu; St-Paul

Established in 1956, the Memorial to the Unknown Jewish Martyr has metamorphosed into the Memorial of the Holocaust and a documentation centre. The permanent collection and temporary exhibits relate to the Holocaust and the German occupation of parts of France and Paris during WWII; the film clips of contemporary footage and interviews are heart-rending and the displays instructive and easy to follow. The actual memorial to the victims of the Shoah, a Hebrew word meaning ‘catastrophe’ and synonymous in France with the Holocaust, stands at the entrance, where there is a wall inscribed with the names of 76,000 men, women and children deported from France to Nazi extermination camps. A guided tour ( 01 53 01 17 86) in English departs at 3pm on the second Sunday of each month.


TAKING ON PARIS’ MUSEUMS
Warm-up exercises, half-hour breathers, a portable seat, bottled water and an energy-providing snack… It might sound as if you’re preparing for a trek in the Alps, but these are some of the recommendations for tackling Paris’ more than 100 museums. And with almost three-dozen major ones free of charge on at least one day of the week, the temptation to see more is now greater than ever.
Take the Louvre, for example. Encompassing some 40 sq hectares, the museum has nine enormous departments spread over 60,000 sq metres of gallery space and more than 8 million visitors a year, all elbowing each other to see what they want to see in a limited amount of time. It’s hardly surprising that many people feel worn out almost before they’ve descended into the Cour Napoléon.
To avoid museum fatigue wear comfortable shoes and make use of the cloakrooms. Be aware that standing still and walking slowly promote tiredness; sit down as often as you can. Reflecting on the material and forming associations with it causes information to move from your short- to long-term memory; your experiences will thus amount to more than a series of visual ‘bites’.
Tracking and timing studies suggest that museum-goers spend no more than 10 seconds viewing an exhibit and another 10 seconds reading the label as they try to take in as much as they can before succumbing to exhaustion. To avoid this choose a particular period or section to focus onor join a guided tour of the highlights.

MAISON EUROPÉENNE DE LA PHOTOGRAPHIE Map

01 44 78 75 00; www.mep-fr.org; 5-7 rue de Fourcy, 4e; adult/senior & 8-25yr €6/3, under 8 free, 5-7.45pm Wed free; 11am-7.45pm Wed-Sun; St-Paul or Pont Marie

The European House of Photography, housed in the overly renovated Hôtel Hénault de Cantorbe (dating from the early 18th century), has cutting-edge temporary exhibits (usually retrospectives on single photographers), as well as an enormous permanent collection on the history of photography and its connections with France. There are frequent showings of short films and documentaries on weekend afternoons. The Japanese garden at the entrance is a delight.

PARIS HISTORIQUE Map

01 48 87 74 31; www.paris-historique.org in French; 44-46 rue François Miron, 4e; admission free; 11am-8pm Mon-Sat, 2-7pm Sun; St-Paul

The information centre for the Association for the Conservation and Appreciation of Historic Paris should be on your tick list if you are interested in medieval Paris and, especially, the Marais. It provides information, has a research library, organises exhibitions and leads guided tours (adult/student & child €9/4) of the area at 2pm or 2.30pm daily except Sunday.

MUSÉE DE LA CURIOSITÉ ET DE LA MAGIE Map

01 42 72 13 26; www.museedelamagie.com, in French; 11 rue St-Paul, 4e; adult/3-12yr €9/7; 2-7pm Wed, Sat & Sun, 2-7pm daily Easter & Christmas school holidays; St-Paul

The Museum of Curiosity & Magic in the 16th-century caves (cellars) of the house of the Marquis de Sade examines the ancient arts of magic, optical illusion and sleight of hand, with regular magic shows (last one at 6pm) included. But some visitors may feel that the displays – optical illusions and wind-up toys – and very basic magic tricks do not justify the extremely high admission fee. An audioguide costs €3.

PLACE DE LA BASTILLE Map

Bastille

The Bastille, built during the 14th century as a fortified royal residence, is the most famous monument in Paris that no longer exists. The notorious prison – the quintessential symbol of royal despotism – was demolished shortly after a mob stormed it on 14 July 1789 and freed a total of just seven prisoners. The site where it once stood, place de la Bastille (11e and 12e), is now a very busy traffic roundabout.


IT’S A FREE-FOR-ALL
The permanent collections at 11 of the 15 musées municipaux (city museums), run by the Mairie de Paris (www.paris.fr), are free. Temporary exhibitions always incur a separate admission fee.
City museums taking part in this scheme include the following:

Maison de Balzac

Maison de Victor Hugo

Musée Atelier Zadkine

Musée Bourdelle

Musée Carnavalet

Musée Cernuschi

Musée Cognacq-Jay

Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris

Musée de la Vie Romantique

Musée des Beaux-Arts de la Ville de Paris (Petit Palais;)

Musée Jean Moulin & Mémorial du Maréchal Leclerc de Hauteclocque et de la Libération de Paris

At the same time, the musées nationaux (national museums) in Paris have reduced rates for those aged over 60 and between 18 and 25, and sometimes for everyone else on one day or part of a day per week (eg Sunday morning). They are always free for those under 18 years of age, and for everyone on the first Sunday of each month (although not always year-round – see the following list). Again, you will have to pay separately for temporary exhibitions.
The museums and monuments in question (and their free-admission days) are:

Arc de Triomphe 1st Sunday of the month, November to March only.

Basilique de St-Denis 1st Sunday of the month, November to March only.

Château de Vincennes 1st Sunday of the month, November to May only.

La Conciergerie 1st Sunday of the month, November to March only.

Musée d’Art et d’Histoire

Musée de l’Assistance Publique-Hôpitaux de Paris

Musée de l’Histoire de France (Archives Nationales;)

Musée de l’Orangerie

Musée d’Orsay

Musée du Louvre

Musée du Quai Branly

Musée Ernest Hébert Currently under renovation.

Musée Guimet des Arts Asiatiques

Musée National d’Art Moderne (Centre Pompidou;)

Musée National du Moyen Age (Musée de Cluny;)

Musée National Eugène Delacroix

Musée National Gustave Moreau

Musée Picasso

Musée Rodin

Panthéon 1st Sunday of the month, November to March only.

Ste-Chapelle 1st Sunday of the month, November to March only.

Tours de Notre Dame 1st Sunday of the month, November to March only.

In the centre of the square is the 52m-high Colonne de Juillet (July Column), whose shaft of greenish bronze is topped by a gilded and winged figure of Liberty. It was erected in 1833 as a memorial to those killed in the street battles that accompanied the July Revolution of 1830 – they are buried in vaults under the column – and was later consecrated as a memorial to the victims of the February Revolution of 1848.

OPÉRA BASTILLE Map

08 92 89 90 90; www.opera-de-paris.fr, in French; 2-6 place de la Bastille, 12e; Bastille

Paris’ giant‘second’ opera house, designed by the Canadian architect Carlos Ott, was inaugurated on 14 July 1989, the 200th anniversary of the storming of the Bastille. It has three theatres, including the main auditorium with 2700 seats. There are 1¼-hour guided tours ( 01 40 01 19 70; adult/under 10yr/senior, student & 11-25yr €11/6/9) of the building, which generally depart at around 1.15pm from Monday to Saturday. Tickets go on sale just 10 minutes before departure at the box office (130 rue de Lyon, 12e; 10.30am-6.30pm Mon-Sat).

MUSÉE DU FUMEUR Map

01 46 59 05 51; www.museedufumeur.net; 7 rue Pache, 11e; adult/concession €4/3; 2-7pm; Voltaire

The Smoking Museum traces the history of one of mankind’s greatest vices: the smoking of tobacco (as well as lots and lots of other substances of various strengths and weaknesses). Hard-core butt-fiends will feel vindicated, though the museum takes an impartial stance, providing (as it states on its website) ‘a vantage point for the observation of changing behaviours’. Done up as an old tobacco warehouse, the museum has a wonderful collection of portraits as well as a superb book-and-gift shop.

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THE ISLANDS

Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

Paris’ twin set of islands could not be more different: with its quaint car-free lanes, legendary ice-cream maker and bijou portfolio of street plaques celebrating famous residents of the past, Île St-Louis is a tourist joy. Its Pandora’s box of boutiques lining the only central street might not be worth the trip in itself, but browse and there’s no saying what gem you might find – antique spice jars, rose-petal massage oil, a hand-painted glass pharmacy jar from the 1930s…

At the island’s western end, the area around Pont St-Louis and Pont Louis-Philippe is one of the city’s most romantic spots. On summer days, lovers mingle with cello-playing buskers and teenaged skateboarders. After nightfall, the Seine dances with the watery reflections of streetlights, headlamps, stop signals and the dim glow of curtained windows. Occasionally, tourist boats with super-bright floodlamps cruise by. There’s no doubt: you are really in Paris.

Stand on the square in front of Notre Dame on big-brother Île de Cité and there is no doubt where you are: two seconds dodging snap-happy tourists, street sellers pushing €1 Eiffel Tower key rings and backpackers guarding piles of packs while their mates check out the cathedral is a taste of the best and worst of Paris. Sensibly, not very many Parisians live on this island.

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ÎLE DE LA CITÉ

The site of the first settlement in Paris (c 3rd century BC) and later the centre of the Roman town of Lutetia (in French, Lutèce), Île de la Cité remained the centre of royal and ecclesiastical power even after the city spread to both banks of the Seine during the Middle Ages. As the institutions on the island grew, so did the island. Buildings on the middle part of the island were demolished and rebuilt during Baron Haussmann’s urban renewal scheme of the late 19th century (Click here); the population – considered the poorest in the city – fell from 15,000 in 1860 to 5000 less than a decade later.

The Île de la Cité, mainly in the 4e arrondissement (its western tip is in the 1er) is home to two institutions devoted to maintaining public order: the judiciary (Palais de Justice) and the police (Préfecture de Police).

CATHÉDRALE DE NOTRE DAME DE PARIS Map

01 42 34 56 10; www.cathedraledeparis.com; place du Parvis Notre Dame, 4e; audioguide €5; 7.45am-6.45pm, information desk 9.30am-6pm Mon-Fri, 9am-6pm Sat; Cité

This is the heart of Paris – so much so that distances from Paris to every part of metropolitan France are measured from place du Parvis Notre Dame, the square in front of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Paris. A bronze star across the street from the cathedral’s main entrance marks the exact location of point zéro des routes de France. Nearby, Charlemagne (742–814), emperor of the Franks, rides his steed under the trees.

Notre Dame, the most visited site in Paris with 10 million people crossing its threshold a year, is not just a masterpiece of French Gothic architecture but has also been the focus of Catholic Paris for seven centuries.

Built on a site occupied by earlier churches – and, a millennium before that, a Gallo-Roman temple perhaps dedicated to the god Mithra (boxed text) – it was begun in 1163 according to the design of Bishop Maurice de Sully and largely completed by the early 14th century. The cathedral was badly damaged during the Revolution; architect Eugène Emmanuel Viollet-le-Duc carried out extensive renovations between 1845 and 1864. The cathedral is on a very grand scale; the interior alone is 130m long, 48m wide and 35m high and can accommodate more than 6000 worshippers.

Notre Dame is known for its sublime balance, though if you look closely you’ll see all sorts of minor asymmetrical elements introduced to avoid monotony, in accordance with standard Gothic practice. These include the slightly different shapes of each of the three main portals, whose statues were once brightly coloured to make them more effective as a Biblia pauperum – a ‘Bible of the poor’ to help the illiterate understand Old Testament stories, the Passion of the Christ and the lives of the saints. One of the best views of Notre Dame is from square Jean XXIII, the little park behind the cathedral, where you can view the forest of ornate flying buttresses that encircle the chancel and support its walls and roof.


TRANSPORT: THE ISLANDS
Bus Île de la Cité for 47 through the Marais to Gare de l’Est, 21 to Opéra & Gare St-Lazare; Île St Louis for 67 to Jardin des Plantes, Mosquée de Paris & Place d’Italie; 87 through Latin Quarter to Place St-Sulpice, Sèvres Babylone, École Militaire & Champ de Mars

Metro & RER Cité, Pont Marie, Pont Neuf, St-Michel Notre Dame, Sully Morland

Boat Notre Dame Batobus stop (quai Montebello)


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THE ISLANDS
 

Inside, exceptional features include three spectacular rose windows, the most renowned of which are the 10m-wide one over the western façade above the 7800-pipe organ, and the window on the northern side of the transept, which has remained virtually unchanged since the 13th century. The central choir, with its carved wooden stalls and statues representing the Passion of the Christ, is also noteworthy. There are free 1½-hour guided tours ( 2pm Wed & Thu, 2.30pm Sat) of the cathedral, given in English.

The trésor (treasury; adult/3-12yr €3/1; 9.30am-6pm Mon-Sat, 1-6pm Sun) in the southeastern transept contains artwork, liturgical objects, church plate and first-class relics, some of them of dubious origin. Among these is the Ste-Couronne, the ‘Holy Crown’, which is purportedly the wreath of thorns placed on Jesus’ head before he was crucified, and was brought here in the mid-13th century. It is exhibited between 3pm and 4pm on the first Friday of each month, 3pm to 4pm every Friday during Lent, and 10am to 5pm on Good Friday.

The entrance to the Tours de Notre Dame (Towers of Notre Dame; 01 53 10 07 02; www.monum.fr; rue du Cloître Notre Dame; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €7.50/4.80/free, 1st Sun of the month Oct-Mar free; 10am-6.30pm Apr-Sep, to 7.30pm Jan-Mar & Oct-Dec) is from the North Tower. Climb the 422 spiralling steps to the top of the western façade, where you’ll find yourself face-to-face with the cathedral’s most frightening gargoyles, the 13-tonne bell Emmanuel (all of the cathedral’s bells are named) in the South Tower, and, last but not least, a spectacular view of Paris.

LA CONCIERGERIE Map

01 53 40 60 97; www.monum.fr; 2 blvd du Palais, 1er; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €8/6/free, 1st Sun of the month Oct-Mar free; 9.30am-6pm Mar-Oct, 9am-5pm Nov-Feb; Cité

The Conciergerie was built as a royal palace in the 14th century for the concierge of the Palais de la Cité, but later lost favour with the kings of France and became a prison and torture chamber. During the Reign of Terror (1793–94) it was used to incarcerate alleged enemies of the Revolution before they were brought before the Revolutionary Tribunal, which met next door in the Palais de Justice. Among the 2700 prisoners held in the dungeons here before being sent in tumbrels to the guillotine were Queen Marie-Antoinette (see a reproduction of her cell) and, as the Revolution began to turn on its own, the radicals Danton, Robespierre and, finally, the judges of the Tribunal themselves.

The 14th-century Salle des Gens d’Armes (Cavalrymen’s Hall) is a fine example of the Rayonnant Gothic style. It is the largest surviving medieval hall in Europe. The Tour de l’Horloge (Map; cnr blvd du Palais & quai de l’Horloge, 1er), built in 1353, has held a public clock aloft since 1370.

A joint ticket with Ste-Chapelle (opposite) costs adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €11.50/9/free.

CRYPTE ARCHÉOLOGIQUE Map

01 55 42 50 10; 1 place du Parvis Notre Dame, 4e; adult/14-26yr/under 14yr €3.50/1.60/free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Cité

The Archaeological Crypt is under the square in front of Notre Dame. The 117m-long and 28m-wide area displays in situ the remains of structures built on this site during the Gallo-Roman period, a 4th-century enclosure wall, the foundations of the medieval foundlings hospice and a few of the sewers sunk by Haussman.

MARCHÉ AUX FLEURS Map

place Louis Lépin, 4e; 8am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Cité

The Île de la Cité’s flower market has brightened up this square since 1808. On Sundays it becomes a Marché aux Oiseaux (bird market; 9am-7pm).

MÉMORIAL DES MARTYRS DE LA DÉPORTATION Map

square de l’Île de France, 4e; 10am-noon, 2-7pm Apr-Sep, 10am-noon, 2-5pm Oct-Mar; St-Michel Notre Dame

The Memorial to the Victims of the Deportation, erected in 1962, is a haunting monument to the 160,000 residents of France – including 76,000 Jews – killed in Nazi concentration camps during WWII. A single barred ‘window’ separates the bleak, rough concrete courtyard from the waters of the Seine.

The Tomb of the Unknown Deportee is flanked by hundreds of thousands of bits of back-lit glass, and the walls are etched with inscriptions from celebrated writers and poets.

MUSÉE DE NOTRE DAME DE PARIS Map

01 43 25 42 92; 10 rue du Cloître Notre Dame, 4e; adult/3-12yr €3/1.50; 2.30-6pm Wed, Sat & Sun; Cité

This small museum traces the cathedral’s history and life on the Île de la Cité from Gallo-Roman times to today, via scale models, contemporary paintings, engravings and lithographs. An interesting document is a petition signed by Victor Hugo, the artist Ingres and others who sparked the campaign to restore the cathedral.

PONT NEUF Click here

Pont Neuf

The sparkling white stone spans of Paris’ oldest bridge, ironically called ‘New Bridge’, have linked the western end of the Île de la Cité with both river banks since 1607 when Henri IV inaugurated it by crossing the bridge on a white stallion. The occasion is commemorated by an equestrian statue of Henri IV, who was known to his subjects as the Vert Galant (‘jolly rogue’ or ‘dirty old man’, depending on your perspective). View the bridge’s seven arches, decorated with humorous and grotesque figures of barbers, dentists, pickpockets, loiterers etc, from the river.


SEINE-FUL PURSUITS
The Seine is more than just Paris’ dustless highway or the line dividing the Right and Left Banks. The river’s award-winning role comes in July and August, when some 5km of its banks are transformed into Paris Plages, ‘beaches’ with real sand, water fountains and sprays. But the river banks can be just as much fun at the weekend during the rest of the year when the Paris Respire scheme goes into effect. The banks between the Pont Alexandre III (Map) and the Pont d’Austerlitz (Map) have been listed as a Unesco World Heritage Site since 1991, but the choicest spots for sunning, picnicking and maybe even a little romancing are the delightful Square du Vert Gallant, 1er (metro Pont Neuf), the little park at the tip of the Île de la Cité named after that rake Henri IV (see above); and the Quai St-Bernard, 5e, just opposite the Jardin des Plantes. Here you’ll find the Musée de la Sculpture en Plein Air (Open-Air Sculpture Museum; Map; 01 43 26 91 90; square Tino Rossi, 5e; admission free; 24hr; Quai de la Rapée). A salad beneath a César or a baguette beside a Brancusi is a pretty classy way to see the Seine up close, short of actually getting on it by joining a cruise (Click here).

Pont Neuf and nearby place Dauphine were used for public exhibitions in the 18th century. In the last century the bridge itself became an objet d’art on at least three occasions: in 1963, when School of Paris artist Nonda built, exhibited and lived in a huge Trojan horse of steel and wood on the bridge; in 1984 when the Japanese designer Kenzo covered it with flowers; and in 1985 when the Bulgarian-born ‘environmental sculptor’ Christo famously wrapped the bridge in beige fabric.

STE-CHAPELLE Map

01 53 40 60 97; www.monum.fr; 4 blvd du Palais, 1er; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €6.50/4.50/free, 1st Sun of the month Oct-Mar free; 9.30am-6pm Mar-Oct, 9am-5pm Nov-Feb; Cité

The place to visit on a sunny day! Security checks make it long and snail-slow to get into this gemlike Holy Chapel, the most exquisite of Paris’ Gothic monuments, tucked away within the walls of the Palais de Justice (Law Courts). But once in, be dazzled by Paris’ oldest and finest stained glass – the light on sunny days is extraordinary.

Built in just under three years (compared with nearly 200 for Notre Dame), Ste-Chapelle was consecrated in 1248. The chapel was conceived by Louis IX to house his personal collection of holy relics (including the Holy Crown now kept in the treasury at Notre Dame). The chapel’s exterior can be viewed from across the street from the law courts’ magnificently gilded 18th-century gate, which faces rue de Lutèce.

A joint ticket with the Conciergerie costs adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €11.50/9/free.

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ÎLE ST-LOUIS

Downstream from Île de la Cité and entirely in the 4e arrondissement, St-Louis was actually two uninhabited islets called Île Notre Dame (Our Lady Isle) and Île aux Vaches (Cows Island) in the early 17th century. That was until a building contractor called Christophe Marie and two financiers worked out a deal with Louis XIII to create one island and build two stone bridges to the mainland. In exchange they could subdivide and sell the newly created real estate. This they did with great success, and by 1664 the entire island was covered with fine, airy, grey-stone houses facing the quays and water.

The only sight as such, French Baroque Église St-Louis en l’Île (Map; 19bis rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; 9am-noon & 3-7pm Tue-Sun; Pont Marie) was built between 1664 and 1726.

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LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

There is no better strip to see, smell and taste the Quartier Latin (Latin Quarter), 5e, than rue Mouffetard, a thriving market street that is something of a local mecca with its titillating line-up of patisseries, fromageries and fishmongers, interspersed by the odd droguerie-quincaillerie (hardware store) – easily spotted by the jumble of laundry baskets, buckets etc piled on the pavement in front. Knowing what’s happening is easy here: go into Le Verre à Pied, order un café at the bar and the market-stall holders will soon start chatting to you. Or try Cavé La Bourgogne, where old ladies with pet lapdogs gather each day at 10.30am for a coffee and a chinwag.

The centre of Parisian higher education since the Middle Ages, the Latin Quarter is so-called because conversation between students and professors was in Latin until the Revolution. Academia remains a focal point of life – the Sorbonne is here – though its near monopoly on Parisian academic life is not what it was. But bury your nose in one of the quarter’s late-opening bookshops, linger in a café, eat cheap in its abundance of budget restaurants or clink drinks during a dozen different happy hours and there will almost certainly be a student or academic affiliated with the Sorbonne sitting next to you.

Come the warmer months, everyone spills over to place St-Michel, place de la Sorbonne and other pigeon-filled squares. Movie buffs watch classics on rue des Écoles, and activists and sympathisers join under the same banner at the Mutualité to chant slogans and fight the good fight. Fancy a pied à terre around the corner from the Sorbonne? A 40-sq-metre, contemporary loft-style apartment costs around €430,000.

ARÈNES DE LUTÈCE Map

49 rue Monge, 5e; admission free; 9am-5.30 to 9.30pm Apr-Oct, 8am-5.30 to 9.30pm Nov-Mar; Place Monge

The 2nd-century Roman amphitheatre, Lutetia Arena, once sat around 10,000 people for gladiatorial combats and other events. Found by accident in 1869 when rue Monge was under construction, it’s now used by neighbourhood youths for playing football, and by old men for boules and pétanque.

CENTRE DE LA MER Map

01 44 32 10 90; www.oceano.org, in French; Institut Océanographique; 195 rue St-Jacques, 5e; adult/3-12yr €4.60/2; 9am-12.30pm & 1.30-6pm Tue-Sun; Luxembourg

France has a long history of success in the field of oceanography (think Jacques Cousteau and, well, Jules Verne), and the Sea Centre cruises through that science, as well as marine biology, via temporary exhibitions, aquariums, scale models and audiovisuals. Kids will love the aquariums and the audiovisuals.

ÉGLISE ST-ÉTIENNE DU MONT Map

01 43 54 11 79; 1 place Ste-Geneviève, 5e; 8am-noon & 2-7pm Tue-Sat, 9am-noon & 2.30-7pm Sun; Cardinal Lemoine

The Church of Mount St Stephen, built between 1492 and 1655, contains Paris’ only surviving rood screen (1535), separating the chancel from the nave; the others were removed during the late Renaissance because they prevented the faithful assembled in the nave from seeing the priest celebrate Mass. In the nave’s southeastern corner, a chapel contains the tomb of Ste Geneviève. A highly decorated reliquary nearby contains all that is left of her earthly remains – a finger bone. Ste Geneviève, patroness of Paris, was born at Nanterre in AD 422 and turned away Attila the Hun from Paris in AD 451.


TRANSPORT: LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES
Bus Panthéon for 89 to Jardin des Plantes & 13e (Bibliothèque National de France François Mitterrand); blvd St-Michel for 38 to Centre Pompidou, Gare de l’Est & Gare du Nord; rue Gay Lussac for 27 to Île de la Cité, Opéra & Gare St-Lazare

Metro & RER Cardinal Lemoine, Censier Daubenton, Cluny-La Sorbonne, Gare d’Austerlitz, Jussieu, Luxembourg, Maubert Mutualité, Place Monge, St-Michel

Boat Jardin des Plantes Batobus stop (quai St-Bernard)

Train Gare d’Austerlitz

INSTITUT DU MONDE ARABE Map

01 40 51 38 38; www.imarabe.org; 1 place Mohammed V, 5e; Cardinal Lemoine or Jussieu

The Institute of the Arab World, set up by France and 20 Arab countries to promote cultural contacts between the Arab world and the West, is housed in a highly praised building (1987) that successfully mixes modern and traditional Arab and Western elements. Thousands of mushrabiyah (or mouche-arabies, photo-electrically sensitive apertures built into the glass walls), inspired by the traditional latticed-wood windows that let you see out without being seen, are opened and closed by electric motors in order to regulate the amount of light and heat that reach the interior of the building.

The museum (adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €5/4/free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun), spread over three floors and entered via the 7th floor, displays 9th- to 19th-century art and artisanship from all over the Arab world, as well as instruments from astronomy and other fields of scientific endeavour in which Arab technology once led the world. Temporary exhibitions (enter from quai St-Bernard; Map) involve a separate fee; combined tickets are available.

JARDIN DES PLANTES Map

01 40 79 56 01, 01 40 79 54 79; 57 rue Cuvier, 5e; 8am-5.30pm to 8pm (seasonal); Gare d’Austerlitz, Censier Daubenton or Jussieu

Paris’ 24-hectare botanical garden, founded in 1626 as a medicinal herb garden for Louis XIII, is idyllic to stroll or jog around. You’ll find a rosary, iris garden, the Eden-like Jardin d’Hiver (Winter Garden) or Serres (Greenhouses), renovated in 2008; the Jardin Alpin (Alpine Garden; Sat & Sun admission adult/4-15yr/under 4yr €1/0.50/free; 8-4.30pm Mon-Fri, 1-5pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct), with 2000 mountainous plants; and the gardens of the École de Botanique, where students of the School of Botany ‘practice’ and green-fingered Parisians savvy up on horticultural techniques.

During the Prussian siege of Paris in 1870, most of the animals in the Ménagerie du Jardin des Plantes (adult/4-15yr/under 4yr €7/5/free; 9am-5pm) were eaten by starving Parisians. Though a recreational animal park, the medium-sized zoo dating to 1794 in the northern section of the garden does much research into the reproduction of rare and endangered species.

A two-day combined ticket covering all of the Jardin des Plantes sights, including the park’s mightily impressive Grande Galerie de l’Évolution (right), costs €20/15.

MOSQUÉE DE PARIS Map

01 45 35 97 33; www.mosquee-de-paris.org, in French; 2bis place du Puits de l’Ermite, 5e; adult/senior & 7-25yr €3/2; 9am-noon & 2-6pm Sat-Thu; Censier Daubenton or Place Monge

Paris’ central mosque, with its striking 26m-high minaret, was built in 1926 in the ornate Moorish style popular at the time. Visitors must be modestly dressed and remove their shoes at the entrance to the prayer hall. The complex includes a North African–style restaurant and hammam.

MUSÉE DE L’ASSISTANCE PUBLIQUE-HÔPITAUX DE PARIS Map

01 40 27 50 05; www.aphp.fr/musee, in French; Hôtel de Miramion, 47 quai de la Tournelle, 5e; adult/13-18yr/under 13yr €4/2/free, 1st Sun of the month free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun Sep-Jul; Maubert Mutualité

A museum devoted to the history of Parisian hospitals since the Middle Ages may not sound like a crowd-pleaser, but some of the paintings, sculptures, drawings and medical instruments are very evocative of their times.

MUSÉE NATIONAL D’HISTOIRE NATURELLE Map

01 40 79 30 00; www.mnhn.fr; 57 rue Cuvier, 5e; Censier Daubenton or Gare d’Austerlitz

Housed in three buildings on the southern edge of the Jardin des Plantes, the National Museum of Natural History was created in 1793 and became a site of significant scientific research in the 19th century.

A highlight for kids: life-sized elephants, tigers and rhinos play safari in the Grande Galerie de l’Évolution (Map; Great Gallery of Evolution; 36 rue Geoffroy St-Hilaire, 5e; adult/4-13yr/under 4yr €8/6/free; 10am-6pm Wed-Mon), where imaginative exhibits on evolution and humanity’s effect on the global ecosystem, including global warming, fill 6000 sq metres. Rare specimens of endangered and extinct species dominate the Salle des Espèces Menacées et des Espèces Disparues (Hall of Threatened and Extinct Species) on level 2, while the Salle de Découverte (Room of Discovery) on level 1 houses interactive exhibits for kids.

Giant natural crystals dance with sunlight in the Galerie de Minéralogie et de Géologie (Mineralogy & Geology Gallery; Map; 36 rue Geoffroy St-Hilaire; adult/4-13yr/under 4yr €7/5/free; 10am-5pm Wed-Mon). Free guided tours (in French) depart the fourth Saturday of the month at 3pm.

Displays on comparative anatomy and palaeontology (the study of fossils) fill the Galerie d’Anatomie Comparée et de Paléontologie (Map; 2 rue Buffon; adult/4-13yr/under 4yr €6/4/free; 10am-5pm Wed-Mon). Free guided tours (in French) depart the second Saturday of the month at 3pm.


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LATIN QUARTER & JARDINS DES PLANTES
 

MUSÉE NATIONAL DU MOYEN AGE Map

01 53 73 78 00; www.musee-moyenage.fr; 6 place Paul Painlevé, 5e; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €7.50/5.50/free, 1st Sun of the month free; 9.15am-5.45pm Wed-Mon; Cluny-La Sorbonne or St-Michel

The National Museum of the Middle Ages occupies both a frigidarium (cooling room), which holds remains of Gallo-Roman thermes (baths) dating from around AD 200, and the 15th-century Hôtel des Abbés de Cluny, Paris’ finest example of medieval civil architecture. Inside, spectacular displays include statuary, illuminated manuscripts, weapons, furnishings and objets d’art made of gold, ivory and enamel. But nothing compares with La Dame à la Licorne (The Lady with the Unicorn), a sublime series of late-15th-century tapestries from the southern Netherlands hung in circular room 13 on the 1st floor. Five of them are devoted to the senses while the sixth is the enigmatic À Mon Seul Désir (To My Sole Desire), a reflection on vanity.

Small gardens northeast of the museum, including the Jardin Céleste (Heavenly Garden) and the Jardin d’Amour (Garden of Love), are planted with flowers, herbs and shrubs that appear in masterpieces hanging throughout the museum. To the west the Forêt de la Licorne (Unicorn Forest) is based on the illustrations in the tapestries.

PANTHÉON Map

01 44 32 18 00; www.monum.fr; place du Panthéon, 5e; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €7.50/4.80/free, 1st Sun of the month Oct-Mar free; 10am-6.30pm Apr-Sep, to 6pm Oct-Mar; Luxembourg

The domed landmark was commissioned by Louis XV around 1750 as an abbey church dedicated to Ste Geneviève in thanksgiving for his recovery from an illness, but due to financial and structural problems it wasn’t completed until 1789 – not a good year for church openings in Paris. Two years later the Constituent Assembly turned it into a secular mausoleum and bricked up most of the windows.

The Panthéon is a superb example of 18th-century neoclassicism. It reverted to its religious duties two more times after the Revolution but has played a secular role ever since 1885, when God was evicted in favour of Victor Hugo. Among the crypt’s 80 or so permanent residents are Voltaire, Jean-Jacques Rousseau, Louis Braille, Émile Zola and Jean Moulin. The first woman to be interred in the Panthéon was the two-time Nobel Prize–winner Marie Curie (1867–1934), reburied here (along with her husband, Pierre) in 1995.

SORBONNE Map

12 rue de la Sorbonne, 5e; Luxembourg or Cluny-La Sorbonne

The crème de la crème of academia flock to this distinguished university, one of the world’s most famous. Founded in 1253 by Robert de Sorbon, confessor to Louis IX, as a college for 16 impoverished theology students, the Sorbonne soon grew into a powerful body with its own government and laws. Today, it embraces most of the 13 autonomous universities – 35,500-odd students in all – created when the University of Paris was reorganised after the student protests of 1968. Until 2015, when an ambitious, 10-year modernisation programme costing €45 million will be complete, parts of the complex will be under renovation.

Place de la Sorbonne links blvd St-Michel and the Chapelle de la Sorbonne, the university’s gold-domed church, built between 1635 and 1642 and currently being restored at a cost of €13.6 million; it should reopen in 2009. The remains of Cardinal Richelieu (1585–1642) lie in a very camp tomb here, with an effigy of a cardinal’s hat suspended above it.

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ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

From the packed pavement terraces of literary café greats Les Deux Magots and Café de Flore, where Sartre, de Beauvoir and other postwar Left Bank intellectuals drank, to the pocket-sized studios of lesser-known romantic and Russian cubist artists, this quarter, born out of a 6th-century abbey, oozes panache. Yet weave your way through the shopaholic crowds on blvd St-Germain, past flagship prêt-à-porter stores and vast white spaces showcasing interior design, and there’s little hint of St-Germain des Prés’ legendary bohemia. The arrival of the fashion industry changed all that jazz years ago.

Yet there is a startling cinematic quality to this soulful part of the Left Bank, where Pierre and Jean-Pierre Heckmann restore antique ivory in their 1930s family shop Click here, gourmets talk bread and wine with local legends like Apolliana Poilâne Click here and Juan Sánchez Click here, and well-dressed ladies take their 1960s cast-offs to vintage dealers on rue de Buci. Artists and writers, students and journalists, actors and musicians cross paths in the shadow of the École Nationale Supérieure des Beaux Arts, the Académie Française and the Odéon-Théâtre de l’Europe.

Despite the passing fashions, village life has survived in this pricey 6e arrondissement (a 200-sq-metre apartment in an elegant 18th-century mansion on the boulevard costs €3.2 million). Stroll past the portfolio of designer boutiques on rue du Cherche Midi, past Patrick Blanc’s flamboyant vegetal wall growing inside No 7, past the constant crowd gathered at the foot of guillotined revolutionary leader Georges Danton on Carrefour de l’Odéon, past the heaps of organic veg at the Rue Raspail market and the stalls groaning under the weight of fresh fruit on rue de Seine and watch it leap out at you. La vie germanopratine (St-Germain life) is belle.

ÉGLISE ST-GERMAIN DES PRÉS Map

01 55 42 81 33; 3 place St-Germain des Prés, 6e; 8am-7pm Mon-Sat, 9am-8pm Sun; St-Germain des Prés

Paris’ oldest church still standing, this Romanesque church of St Germanus of the Fields was built in the 11th century on the site of a 6th-century abbey and was the dominant church in Paris until the arrival of Notre Dame. It has been altered many times since, but the Chapelle de St-Symphorien (to the right as you enter) was part of the original abbey and is believed to be the resting place of St Germanus (AD 496–576), the first bishop of Paris. The Merovingian kings were buried here during the 6th and 7th centuries, but their tombs disappeared during the Revolution. The bell tower over the western entrance has changed little since 990, although the spire dates only from the 19th century. The vaulted ceiling is a starry sky that seems to float forever upward.


TRANSPORT: ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
Bus blvd St-Germain for 86 to Odéon, Pont Sully (Île St-Louis), Bastille, Ledru Rollin (Marché d’Aligre), place de la Nation & Zoo; rue de Rennes for 96 to place Châtelet, Hôtel de Ville, St-Paul (Marais), rue Oberkampf & rue de Ménilmontant

Metro & RER Luxembourg, Mabillon, Odéon, Pont Neuf, Port Royal, St-Germain des Prés, St-Sulpice

Boat St-Germain des Prés Batobus stop (quai Malaquais)


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ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
 

ÉGLISE ST-SULPICE Map

01 46 33 21 78; place St-Sulpice, 6e; 7.30am-7.30pm; St-Sulpice

In 1646 work started on the twin-towered Church of St Sulpicius, lined inside with 21 side chapels, and took six architects 150 years to finish. What draws most people is not its lovely Italianate façade with two rows of superimposed columns, nor its neoclassical décor influenced by the Counter-Reformation; rather, this church was the setting for a crucial discovery in Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code.

The frescoes in the Chapelle des Sts-Anges (Chapel of the Holy Angels), first to the right as you enter, depict Jacob wrestling with the angel (to the left) and Michael the Archangel doing battle with Satan (to the right) and were painted by Eugène Delacroix between 1855 and 1861. The monumental, 20m-tall organ loft dates from 1781. Listen to it in its full glory during 10.30am Mass on Sunday or the occasional Sunday-afternoon organ concert, which usually starts at 4pm.

FONDATION DUBUFFET Map

01 47 34 12 63; www.dubuffetfondation.com, in French; 137 rue de Sèvres, 6e; adult/under 10yr €4/free; 2-6pm Mon-Fri; Duroc

Situated in a lovely 19th-century hôtel particulier at the end of a courtyard, the foundation houses the collection of Jean Dubuffet (1901–85), chief of the Art Brut school (a term he himself coined to describe all works of artistic expression not officially recognised). Much of his work is incredibly modern and expressive.

INSTITUT DE FRANCE Click here

01 44 41 44 41; www.institut-de-france.fr; 23 quai de Conti, 6e; Mabillon or Pont Neuf

The French Institute, created in 1795, brought together five of France’s academies of arts and sciences. The most famous of these is the Académie Française (French Academy), founded in 1635 by Cardinal Richelieu. Its 40 members, known as the Immortels (Immortals), have the Herculean (some say impossible) task of safeguarding the purity of the French language.

The domed building housing the institute, across the Seine from the Louvre’s eastern end, is a masterpiece of French neoclassical architecture. There are 1½-hour tours (adult/18-25yr €8/6) at 3pm one Sunday a month. Contact the Centre des Monuments Nationaux (Centre of National Monuments; 01 44 54 19 30; www.monum.fr) for schedules or check Pariscope or L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here under ‘Promenades & Loisirs/Visites Conférences’.

France’s oldest public library, the Bibliothèque Mazarine (Mazarine Library; 01 44 41 44 06; www.bibliotheque-mazarine.fr; 10am-6pm Mon-Fri, closed two weeks Aug) founded in 1643, is in the same building. You can visit the bust-lined, late-17th-century reading room or consult the library’s collection of 500,000 volumes, using a free, two-day admission pass obtained by leaving your ID at the office to the left of the entrance. An annual membership/10-visit carnet to borrow books costs €15/10 and requires two photos.

JARDIN DU LUXEMBOURG Map

7.30 to 8.15am-5 to 10pm (seasonal); Luxembourg

Keen to know what the city does on its time off? Then stroll around the formal terraces, chestnut groves and green lawns of this 23-hectare park, where Parisians of all ages flock in all weathers. Be it jogging, practising t’ai chi, gossiping with girlfriends on one of the garden’s signature sage-green chairs (fancy one to take home? Click here), reading or romancing, the Jardin du Luxembourg is the voyeur’s spot to peek on Parisians.

Urban orchards hang heavy with dozens of apple varieties in the southern part of the jardin (garden). Bees have produced honey in the nearby Rucher du Luxembourg since the 19th century; don’t miss the annual Fête du Miel (Honey Festival), two days of tasting and buying the aviary’s sweet harvest in late September in the Pavillon Davioud (55bis rue d’Assas). This ornate pavilion is also the spot where green-fingered Parisians partake in gardening courses with the École d’Horticulture (64 Blvd St-Michel, 6e). For sports-minded souls, there are six tennis courts.

The park is a backdrop to the Palais du Luxembourg, built in the 1620s for Marie de Médici, Henri IV’s consort, to assuage her longing for the Pitti Palace in Florence, where she had spent her childhood. Since 1958 the palace has housed the Sénat (Senate, upper house of French parliament; reservations 01 44 54 19 49; www.senat.fr; rue de Vaugirard, 6e; adult/18-25yr €8/6) which can be visited by guided tour at 10.30am one Saturday per month. East of the palace is the Italianate Fontaine des Médici, an ornate fish pond (1630).

Top spot for sun-soaking – there’s always loads of chairs here – is the southern side of the palace’s 19th-century, 57m-long Orangery (1834) where lemon and orange trees, palms, grenadiers and oleanders shelter from the cold. A little further is the Musée du Luxembourg ( 01 42 34 25 95; www.museeduluxembourg.fr; 19 rue de Vaugirard, 6e; up to adult/10-25yr/under10yr €11/9/free; 10.30am-10pm Mon & Fri, 10.30am-7pm Tue-Thu & Sat, to 7pm Sun), housed in two galleries built for the palace to showcase artworks. It hosts very prestigious temporary art exhibitions; admission prices vary. Next door the heavily guarded Hôtel du Petit Luxembourg (rue de Vaugirard, 6e) was the modest 16th-century pad where Marie de Médici lived while Palace du Luxembourg was being built. The president of the Senate has called it home since 1825.

Luxembourg Garden offers all the delights of a Parisian childhood a century ago. At the octagonal Grand Bassin, model sailboats can be rented, and nearby, Shetland ponies take tots for rides. At the pint-sized Théâtre des Marionnettes du Jardin du Luxembourg ( 01 43 26 46 47; ticket €4; 3.15pm Wed, 11am & 3.15pm Sat & Sun, daily during school hols) marionette shows guarantee a giggle, whether you understand French or not. Complete the day with a romp around the kids’ playground (adult/child/under 15 months €2.60/1.60/free; 10am-park close) – the green half is for kids aged seven to 12 years, the blue half for under-sevens – or a summertime waltz on the old-fashioned carousel (merry-go-round).

MUSÉE DE LA MONNAIE DE PARIS Map

01 40 46 55 35; www.monnaiedeparis.fr; 11 quai de Conti, 6e; adult/under 16yr €5/free; 11am-5.30pm Tue-Fri, noon-5.30pm Sat & Sun; Pont Neuf

The Parisian Mint Museum traces the history of French coinage from antiquity to the present and displays presses and other minting equipment. There are some excellent audiovisual and other displays, which help to bring to life this otherwise niche subject.

The museum building, the Hôtel de la Monnaie, became the royal mint during the 18th century and is still used by the Ministry of Finance to produce commemorative medals and coins, as well as official weights and measures. One-hour tours of the ateliers (workshops) leave at 2.15pm on Wednesday and Friday (€3); advance reservations only.


IMMORTAL REMAINS
Paris loves to immortalise people from its past with statues and monuments and has done so especially since the mid-19th century. Père Lachaise, Montmartre and Montparnasse Cemeteries are bursting with wonderfully evocative likenesses of heroes and villains, poets and philosophers, and revolutionaries and autocrats, and there’s a resident stone or bronze celebrity in even the tiniest park or square. The following is a selection of the larger-than-life characters you might bump into on your way around Paris.
St-Denis, patron saint of France (also known as Dionysius of Paris), introduced Christianity to Paris and was beheaded by the Romans for his pains. You can see him carrying his unfortunate head under his arm on the carved western portal of the Cathédrale de Notre Dame (Map).
Ste-Geneviève, the patroness of Paris, was born at Nanterre in AD 422 and turned Attila the Hun away from the city in AD 451. Now she stands, ghostly pale and turning her back on Paris, high above the Pont de la Tournelle (Map), just south of Île St Louis in the 5e. Plucky Jeanne d’Arc (Joan of Arc) tried unsuccessfully to wrest Paris from the English almost a millennium later; her gilded likeness now stands in place des Pyramides (Map), next to 192 rue de Rivoli, 1er.
Henri IV, known as the Vert Galant (‘jolly rogue’ or ‘dirty old man’, depending on your perspective), sits astride his white stallion on the Pont Neuf (Map) in the 1er, exactly as he did when he inaugurated the ‘New Bridge’ in 1607. Charlemagne, emperor of the Franks, rides his steed under the trees in front of Cathédrale de Notre Dame (Map), while a poor imitation of the Sun King, Louis XIV, prances in place des Victoires (Map) in the 2e. Georges Danton, a leader of the Revolution and later one of its guillotined victims, stands with his head very much intact near the site of his house at carrefour de l’Odéon (Map) in the 6e.
Napoleon, horseless and in Roman drag, stands atop the column in place Vendôme (Map) in the 1er. The latest addition is a 3.6m-tall bronze of General Charles de Gaulle in full military regalia at the bottom of av des Champs-Élysées (Map), ready to march down to the Arc de Triomphe in a liberated Paris on 26 August 1944.
But it’s not just people who are immortalised. An illuminated bronze replica of New York’s Statue of Liberty (Map) faces the Big Apple from a long and narrow artificial island in the Seine. And have a look at the impressive Centaur statue in the centre of carrefour de la Croix Rouge (Map) in the 6e, which was sculpted by César Baldaccini. Impossible to miss, the statue of the mythological half-horse, half-man has disproportionate gonads the size of grapefruits. Now that’s what we call larger than life.

MUSÉE ERNEST HÉBERT Map

01 42 22 23 82; 85 rue du Cherche Midi, 6e; 12.30-6pm Mon & Wed-Fri, 2-6pm Sat & Sun; St-Placide

Portrait painter Ernest Hébert (1817–1908) did likenesses of society people of the Second Empire and the belle époque and was thus not short of a sou or two. The artist’s wonderful 18th-century townhouse and its baubles – not his saccharine, almost cloying portraits – is the draw here, though. The museum was closed for renovations at research time but should be open by the time you read this.

MUSÉE NATIONAL EUGÈNE DELACROIX Map

01 44 41 86 50; www.musee-delacroix.fr; 6 rue de Furstemberg, 6e; adult/under 18yr €5/free, 1st Sun of the month free; 9.30am-5pm Wed-Mon; Mabillon or St-Germain des Prés

The Eugène Delacroix Museum, in a courtyard off a leafy ‘square’, was the romantic artist’s home and studio when he died in 1863, and contains many of his oils, watercolours, pastels and drawings. If you want to see his major works, such as Liberty Leading the People, visit the Musée du Louvre or the Musée d’Orsay; here you’ll find many of his more intimate works (eg An Unmade Bed, 1828) and his paintings of Morocco.

MUSÉE ATELIER ZADKINE Map

01 55 42 77 20; www.zadkine.paris.fr, in French; 100bis rue d’Assas, 6e; admission free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun

This museum covers the life and work of Russian cubist sculptor Ossip Zadkine (1890–1967), who arrived in Paris in 1908, and lived and worked in this cottage for almost 40 years. Zadkine produced an enormous catalogue of clay, stone, bronze and wood sculptures: one room displays figures he sculpted in contrasting walnut, pear, ebony, acacia, elm and oak. The occasional temporary exhibition commands a token admission fee.

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MONTPARNASSE

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

Less flamboyant than the Latin Quarter, less hip than Bastille and less audacious than Bercy, the unpretentious 14e arrondissement strikes a better balance than some perhaps: buzzing cafés, brasseries where Picasso and his mates put 1930s Paris to rights, a cemetery with bags of personality (think Sartre, Serge Gainsbourg) and urban grit in the form of a train station and a tall, ugly tower are its modern-day attributes.

Peer long and hard (and long and hard again) at the touristy restaurants and cafés around the unfortunate 1960s Gare Montparnasse complex and glimmers of the area’s bohemian past occasionally emerge: after WWI writers, poets and artists of the avant-garde abandoned Montmartre on the Right Bank and crossed the Seine, shifting the centre of Paris’ artistic ferment to the area around blvd du Montparnasse. Chagall, Modigliani, Léger, Soutine, Miró, Kandinsky, Stravinsky, Hemingway, Ezra Pound and Cocteau, as well as such political exiles as Lenin and Trotsky, all hung out here, talking endlessly in the cafés and restaurants for which the quarter became famous. It remained a creative hub until the mid-1930s.

Drift south, away from the energising hubbub of the train station area and its neon-lit nightlife, and green spaces unfold in the shape of delightful Parc Montsouris and Cité Universitaire, a lush oasis for students, wedged between parkland and the din of Parisian traffic belting along the ring road encircling Paris.

CATACOMBES Map

01 43 22 47 63; www.catacombes.paris.fr in French; 1 av Colonel Henri Roi-Tanguy, 14e; adult/14-26yr/under 14yr €7/3.50/free; 10am-5pm Tue-Sun; Denfert Rochereau

Paris’ most gruesome and macabre sight: in 1785 it was decided to solve the hygiene and aesthetic problems posed by Paris’ overflowing cemeteries by exhuming the bones and storing them in the tunnels of three disused quarries. The Catacombes is one such ossuary, created in 1810. After descending 20m (130 steps) from street level, visitors follow 1.7km of underground corridors in which a mind-boggling amount of bones and skulls of millions of Parisians are neatly packed along each and every wall. During WWII these tunnels were used as a headquarters by the Resistance; so-called cataphiles looking for cheap thrills are often caught roaming the tunnels at night (there’s a fine of €60).


STEVE’S TOP PARIS DAY
After an evening of merrymaking at my bon vivant friend’s belle époque apartment near place de la République, as far as I care to/can move my carcass the following morning (usually a Sunday) is to the wonderful Marché Bastille, to stock up on fortifying oysters and foie gras. But I’ll need more of a cure than that after all the mousseux (sparkling wine) of the previous evening, so I’ve now set my Navsat for the Spa Harnn & Thann for a soak and a rubdown. Then I’ll slip-slide toward the Musée du Quai Branly for both its startling Oceanic art and Les Ombres restaurant in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, or the Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine and the adjoining Café de l’Homme, with its arresting views of said madame. Still a bit cobwebby, I’ll cross the Seine to Ladurée for a sugar fix (pastel-coloured macaroons will do the trick) and the Champs-Élysées Click here. Some say the broad boulevard is now the height of tack, but I’ve loved it ever since I was a student and my Moroccan kinda-sorta boyfriend and I stood beneath the Arc de Triomphe one New Year’s Eve shouting ‘C’est pour nous! C’est pour nous!’ (It’s for us! It’s for us!) at the top of our lungs as the cars raced around, blowing their horns and flashing their headlights. Season be damned. I might just do that again right now.

The route through the Catacombes begins at a small, dark-green belle époque–style building in the centre of a grassy area of av Colonel Henri Roi-Tanguy. The exit is at the end of 83 steps on rue Remy Dumoncel (metro Mouton Duvernet), 700m southwest of av Colonel Henri Roi-Tanguy.

CIMETIÈRE DU MONTPARNASSE Map

01 44 10 86 50; 3 blvd Edgar Quinet, 14e; 8 or 8.30am-6pm Mon-Sat, 9am-6pm Sun mid-Mar–Oct, 8am or 8.30am-5.30pm Mon-Sat, 9am-5.30pm Sun Nov–mid-Mar; Edgar Quinet or Raspail

Montparnasse Cemetery received its first ‘lodger’ in 1824. It contains the tombs of illustrious personages such as poet Charles Baudelaire, writer Guy de Maupassant, playwright Samuel Beckett, sculptor Constantin Brancusi, painter Chaim Soutine, photographer Man Ray, industrialist André Citroën, Captain Alfred Dreyfus of the infamous affair (Click here), actress Jean Seberg, philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre and his lover, writer Simone de Beauvoir, and the crooner Serge Gainsbourg, whose grave in division No 1 just off av Transversale is a pilgrimage site for fans, who place metro tickets atop his tombstone, a reference to his famous song ‘Le Poinçonneur des Lilas’ (The Ticket Puncher of Lilas).


LA POLLUTION CANINE: WATCH YOUR STEP
Every sixth person in France owns a dog, and Parisians are no exception. Problem is, that’s a lot of dog dirt – an estimated 150,000 pooches here produce some 16 tonnes of the stuff every day, a lot of which ends up on the streets. The Paris municipality has made some valiant attempts in the past, most notably with the introduction of the moto-crottes (motorised pooper-scooters) by then mayor Jacques Chirac in 1982. At one stage, the city was spending up to €11 million each year to keep the city’s pavements free of la pollution canine, but the machines were abandoned in 2004 as both expensive and ineffective. Plastic-bag dispensers with the words ‘J’aime mon chien, je ramasse’ (I love my dog, I pick up) have been placed strategically throughout the city, but the campaign has had less-than-howling success: only 60% of dog owners admit to doing their own scooping. Evidence to this effect takes the form of ‘souvenirs’ left by recently walked poodles and other breeds, often found smeared along the pavement (www.filthyfrance.com) by daydreaming strollers, one assumes – or guidebook writers absorbed in jotting down something important. And it gets more serious than that: more than 600 people are admitted to hospital each year after slipping on a crotte. Until Parisians – and their beloved canines – change their dirty ways, the word on the street remains the same: watch your step.

FONDATION CARTIER POUR L’ART CONTEMPORAIN Map

01 42 18 56 50; www.fondation.cartier.fr; 261 blvd Raspail, 14e; adult/11-26yr/under 10yr €6.50/4.50/free; 11am-10pm Tue, to 8pm Mon & Wed-Sun; Raspail

This stunning contemporary building, designed by Jean Nouvel, is a work of art. It hosts temporary exhibits on contemporary art (from the 1980s till today) in a wide variety of media – from painting and photography to video and fashion.

GARE MONTPARNASSE Map

place Raoul Dautry, 14e; Montparnasse Bienvenüe

This sprawling train station, fronted by an ice-skating rink in winter, has several unusual attractions on its rooftop. The Jardin de l’Atlantique (Atlantic Garden; place des Cinq Martyr du Lycée Buffon, 15e), whose 3.5 hectares of landscaped terraces veil the top of the station, offers a bit of greenery and tranquillity in the heart of a very busy district. The futuristic Observatoire Météorologique ‘sculpture’ in the centre of the garden measures precipitation, temperature and wind speed.

Next to the garden the small Musée Jean Moulin ( 01 40 64 39 44; www.ml-leclerc-moulin.paris.fr, in French; 23 allée de la 2e DB, 15e; temporary exhibitions adult/14-25yr €4/2, permanent collections free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun) is devoted to the WWII German occupation of Paris, with its focus on the Resistance and its leader, Jean Moulin (1899–1943). The attached Mémorial du Maréchal Leclerc de Hauteclocque et de la Libération de Paris shows a panoramic film on the eponymous general (1902–47), who led the Free French units during the war and helped to liberate the city in 1944.

To reach all these attractions, board the bubble lift on the pavement opposite 25 blvd de Vaugirard (15e) and ascend one floor. From there take the escalator and follow the signs to the garden and museums.

TOUR MONTPARNASSE Map

01 45 38 52 56; www.tourmontparnasse56.com; rue de l’Arrivée, 15e; adult/student & 16-20yr/7-15yr/under 7yr €9.50/6.80/4/free; 9.30am-11.30pm Apr-Sep, to 10.30pm Sun-Thu, to 11pm Fri & Sat Oct-Mar; Montparnasse Bienvenüe


top picks
MONTPARNASSE
 
  • Catacombes (opposite)
  • Tour Montparnasse (view from top only; above)
  • Cimetière de Montparnasse (opposite)
  • Musée de la Poste
  • Fondation Cartier pour l’Art Contemporain (left)

The 210m-high Montparnasse Tower, a startlingly ugly, oversized lipstick tube built in 1973 with steel and smoked glass and housing offices for 5000 workers, affords spectacular views over the city. A lift whisks visitors up in 38 seconds to the indoor observatory on the 56th floor, with exhibition centre, video clips, multimedia terminals and Paris’ highest café. Finish with a hike up the stairs to the open-air terrace on the 59th floor. To know what you’re looking at, buy the multilingual Paris vu d’en haut guide (€3) from the ticket office before hiking up.


TRANSPORT: MONTPARNASSE
Bus Gare Montparnasse for 91 to Gare d’Austerlitz, Gare de Lyon & Bastille, for 92 to Charles de Gaulle-Étoile, for 94 to Sèvres Babylone (Le Bon Marché); blvd du Montparnasse for 82 to Invalides & Eiffel Tower; rue de Rennes for 95 to St-Germain des Prés, Quai Voltaire, Louvre, Palais Royal, Opéra & Lamarck-Caulaincourt (Montmartre); blvd Raspail (metro stop Vavin) for 68 to via Opéra, Louvre & Musée d’Orsay

Metro Denfert Rochereau, Duroc, Edgar Quinet, Falguière, Montparnasse Bienvenüe, Pasteur, Raspail, St-Placide

Train Gare Montparnasse

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FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

Staid and with no nightlife to speak of, agreed, but this 7e arrondissement – a formal world of exquisite ironwork, flashing gold leaf, Seine-side art galleries and conventional manners – has a timeless beauty and extravagance all of its own. And when it all gets too stiff, take a stroll through pedestrian rue Cler and its bustling street market.

In the 18th century, Faubourg St-Germain, the area between the Seine and rue de Babylone (1km south), was Paris’ most fashionable neighbourhood. Elegant mansions ran riot on rue de Lille, rue de Grenelle and rue de Varenne, now an overdose of embassies, cultural centres and government ministries; Hôtel Matignon at 57 rue de Varenne has been the official residence of the French prime minister since the start of the Fifth Republic (1958), and it was to the stylish pad at No 53 that Edith Wharton moved in 1910 to write Le Temps de l’Innocence (The Age of Innocence). Play voyeur and peek at dreamy hôtels particuliers for sale in the windows of Sotheby’s real-estate agent Propriétés Parisiennes (www.proprietesparisiennes.fr) at 7bis rue des St-Pères.

Framing all this Parisian refinement is the Eiffel Tower in the skyline, the gracious curve of the Seine at eye level and, underfoot, the smooth lawns of Les Invalides, where it always feels like Sunday. If you suddenly find yourself leaping on a bike (Click here) and pedalling along the river to watch the kaleidoscope of the National Assembly, the cavernous railway-station shell of the Musée d’Orsay and Quai Voltaire’s bijou art galleries flash by, don’t be surprised. Just make sure you jump off at 5bis rue Verneuil to see the quarter’s finest example of over-the-top extravagance – the house where Parisian singer, sexpot and provocateur Serge Gainsbourg lived from 1969 until his death in 1991. Neighbours have long since given up scrubbing off the reappearing graffiti and messages from fans.

ASSEMBLÉE NATIONALE Map

01 40 63 60 00; www.assemblee-nat.fr; 33 quai d’Orsay & 126 rue de l’Université, 7e; Assemblée Nationale or Invalides

The lower house of the French parliament, known as the National Assembly, meets in the 18th-century Palais Bourbon, which fronts the Seine. Tours are available through local deputies, making citizens and residents the only ones eligible. Next door is the Second Empire–style Ministère des Affaires Étrangères (Ministry of Foreign Affairs; 01 43 17 53 53; 37 quai d’Orsay, 7e), built between 1845 and 1855.


TRANSPORT: FAUBOURG ST- GERMAIN & INVALIDES
Bus Quai d’Orsay for 63 to St-Germain, Odéon, Gare d’Austerlitz & Gare de Lyon, for 83 to Grand Palais, Rond Point des Champs Élysées & rue du Faubourg St-Honoré; Musée d’Orsay for 73 to place de la Concorde, av des Champs-Élysées & La Défense

Metro & RER Assemblée Nationale, École Militaire, Invalides, Musée d’Orsay, Rue du Bac, Solférino, La Tour Maubourg

Boat Musée d’Orsay Batobus stop (quai de Solférino); Paris Canal Croisières pier at quai Anatole France (7e) near the Musée d’Orsay for canal boat to stop Bassin de la Villette (19-21 quai de la Loire)

HÔTEL DES INVALIDES Map

Invalides, Varenne or La Tour Maubourg

A 500m-long expanse of lawn known as the Esplanade des Invalides separates Faubourg St-Germain from the Eiffel Tower area. At the southern end of the esplanade, laid out between 1704 and 1720, is the final resting place of Napoleon, the man many French people consider to be the nation’s greatest hero.

Hôtel des Invalides was built in the 1670s by Louis XIV to provide housing for 4000 invalides (disabled war veterans). On 14 July 1789, a mob forced its way into the building and, after fierce fighting, seized 32,000 rifles before heading on to the prison at Bastille and the start of the French Revolution.

North of Hôtel des Invalides’ main courtyard, in the so-called Cour d’Honneur, is the Musée de l’Armée (Army Museum; 01 44 42 38 77; www.invalides.org; 129 rue de Grenelle, 7e; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €8/6/free; 10am-6pm Apr-Sep, to 5pm Oct-Mar, closed 1st Mon of the month) – the nation’s largest collection on French military history.

South is Église St-Louis des Invalides, once used by soldiers, and Église du Dôme ( 10am-7pm mid-Jun–mid-Sep, to 6pm Apr–mid-Jun & Sep, to 5pm mid-Sept–Mar) which, with its sparkling golden dome (1677–1735), is one of the finest religious edifices erected under Louis XIV. It received the remains of Napoleon in 1840. The very extravagant Tombeau de Napoléon 1er (Napoleon’s Tomb; 10am-6pm Apr-Sep, to 5pm Oct-Mar, closed 1st Mon of the month), in the centre of the church, comprises six coffins fitting into one another like a Russian matryoshka doll.

Admission to the Army Museum includes entry to all the sights in Hôtel des Invalides, including the Musée des Plans-Reliefs ( 01 45 51 95 05; 10am-6pm Apr-Sep, to 5pm Oct-Mar, closed 1st Mon of the month), an esoteric museum full of scale models of towns, fortresses and chateaux across France.

MUSÉE DES ÉGOUTS DE PARIS Click here

01 53 68 27 81; place de la Résistance, 7e; adult/student & 6-16yr €4.20/3.40, under 6yr free; 11am-5pm Sat-Wed May-Sep, to 4pm Sat-Wed Oct-Dec & Feb-Apr; Pont de l’Alma

The Paris Sewers Museum is a working museum whose entrance, a rectangular maintenance hole topped with a kiosk, is across the street from 93 quai d’Orsay, 7e. Raw sewage flows beneath your feet as you walk through 480m of odoriferous tunnels, passing artefacts illustrating the development of Paris’ waste-water disposal system. The sewers keep regular hours except – God forbid – when rain threatens to flood the tunnels, and in January, when it is closed.

MUSÉE D’ORSAY Map

01 40 49 48 14; www.musee-orsay.fr; 62 rue de Lille, 7e; adult/18-30yr/under 18yr €8/5.50/free, 1st Sun of the month free; 9.30am-6pm Tue, Wed, Fri-Sun, to 9.45pm Thu; Musée d’Orsay or Solférino

In a former train station (1900) facing the Seine, this museum displays France’s national collection of paintings, sculptures, objets d’art and other works produced between the 1840s and 1914, including the fruits of the impressionist, postimpressionist and Art Nouveau movements.

Many visitors head straight to the upper skylight-lit level to see the impressionist paintings by Monet, Renoir, Pissarro, Sisley, Degas and Manet and the postimpressionist works by Van Gogh, Cézanne, Seurat and Matisse. But there’s a great deal to see on the ground floor, too, including early works by Manet, Monet, Renoir and Pissarro. The middle level has some magnificent Art Nouveau rooms.

English-language guided tours (information 01 40 49 48 48; adult/13-17yr €7.50/5.70 plus admission fee), last 1½ hours and include ‘Masterpieces of the Musée d’Orsay’, departing 11.30am Tuesday to Saturday. Buy tickets in advance at www.fnac.com or at Kiosque du Musée d’Orsay ( 9am-5.50pm Tue-Fri), in front of the museum. Those who prefer their own pace can DIY with a 1½-hour audioguide tour (€5) covering 80 major works.

Museum tickets are valid all day, meaning you can leave and re-enter the museum as you please. The reduced entrance fee of €5.50 applies to everyone after 4.15pm (6pm on Thursday). Those visiting the Musée Rodin (below) the same day save €2 with a combined ticket (€12).

MUSÉE RODIN Map

01 44 18 61 10; www.musee-rodin.fr; 79 rue de Varenne, 7e; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr permanent or temporary exhibition plus garden €6/4/free, both exhibitions plus garden €9/7/free, 1st Sun of the month free, garden only €1; 9.30am-5.45pm Tue-Sun Apr-Sep, to 4.45pm Tue-Sun Oct-Mar; Varenne

The Rodin Museum is one of the most relaxing spots in the city, with its garden bespeckled with sculptures and shade trees in which to contemplate The Thinker. Rooms on two floors of the 18th-century Hôtel Biron display vital bronze and marble sculptures by Auguste Rodin, including casts of some of his most celebrated works: The Hand of God, The Burghers of Calais, Cathedral, that perennial crowd-pleaser The Thinker and the sublime, the incomparable, that romance-hewn-in-marble called The Kiss. There are also some 15 works by Camille Claudel (1864–1943), sister to the writer Paul and Rodin’s mistress. The garden closes its gates later than the museum: at 6.45pm April to September and at 5pm October to March.

MUSÉE MAILLOL-FONDATION DINA VIERNY Map

01 42 22 59 58; www.museemaillol.com; 61 rue de Grenelle, 7e; adult/16-25yr/under 16yr €8/6/free; 11am-6pm Wed-Mon; Rue du Bac

This splendid little museum focuses on the work of sculptor Aristide Maillol (1861–1944) who died in a car crash. It also includes works by Matisse, Gauguin, Kandinsky, Cézanne and Picasso, all from the private collection of Odessa-born Dina Vierny (b 1915–), Maillol’s principal model for 10 years from the age of 15. The museum is located in the stunning 18th-century Hôtel Bouchardon.

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EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT

Eating; Sleeping

Paris’ very symbol, the Eiffel Tower, is surrounded by open areas on both banks of the Seine, which take in both the 7e and the 16e arrondissements.

On the Right Bank, Passy is among the city’s most prestigious neighbourhoods. The wide avenues radiating out from the place du Trocadéro et du 11 November are lined with sober, elegant buildings from the Haussmann era. Luxury boutiques abound, frequented by posh customers who desert the area come nightfall. It’s here, on the banks of the Seine, that the architectural curiosity known as the ‘Maison Ronde’ – the Maison de Radio France – was constructed. Just north, the Maison de Balzac keeps alive the memory of the illustrious author of Le Père Goriot. Further north, the ultrabourgeois av Foch thumbs its nose at the restless av de la Grande Armée, teeming with motorbike fanatics. The 16e arrondissement also hosts football meets at the Parc des Princes and, as summer approaches, the thud of tennis balls on clay can be heard at Stade Roland Garros. There are some fabulous cultural institutions here, including the Musée du Quai Branly, Musée Guimet des Arts Asiatiques, Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris and the three excellent museums of the Palais de Chaillot. At the same time there are lots and lots of smaller and lesser-known museums on such diverse subjects as wine, crystal and pens.

EIFFEL TOWER Click here

01 44 11 23 23; www.tour-eiffel.fr; lifts 9am-midnight mid-Jun–Aug, 9.30am-11pm Sep–mid-Jun; stairs 9am-midnight mid-Jun–Aug, 9.30am-6pm Sep–mid-Jun; Champ de Mars-Tour Eiffel or Bir Hakeim

La Tour Eiffel faced massive opposition from Paris’ artistic and literary elite when it was built for the 1889 Exposition Universelle (World Fair), marking the centenary of the Revolution.

The ‘metal asparagus’, as some Parisians snidely called it, was almost torn down in 1909 but was spared because it proved an ideal platform for the transmitting antennas needed for the newfangled science of radiotelegraphy. It welcomed two million visitors the first year it opened and more than three times that number – 6.9 million in 2007 – make their way to the top each year.


TRANSPORT: EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT
Bus Quai Branly for 82 to Trocadéro (Varsovie), Palais de Chaillot, Porte Maillot, Palais des Congrès & Neuilly; Champ de Mars for 42 to av Montaigne, Madeleine, Opéra (blvd Haussmann) & Gare du Nord & for 69 to Invalides, Musée d’Orsay, Louvre, Châtelet, Marais, Bastille & Gambetta; Trocadéro for 22 to Charles de Gaulle-Étoile, Grands Boulevards, Gare St-Lazare & Opéra

Metro & RER Alma-Marceau, Bir Hakeim, Champ de Mars-Tour Eiffel, École Militaire, Iéna, Kennedy Radio France, Passy, Pont de l’Alma, Porte Dauphine, Trocadéro, Victor Hugo

Boat Eiffel Tower Batobus stop (Port de la Bourdonnais)

The Eiffel Tower, named after its designer, Gustave Eiffel, is 324m high, including the TV antenna at the tip. This figure can vary by as much as 15cm, however, as the tower’s 7300 tonnes of iron, held together by 2.5 million rivets, expand in warm weather and contract when it’s cold.

Three levels are open to the public. The lifts (in the east, west and north pillars), which follow a curved trajectory, cost €4.80 to the 1st platform (57m above the ground), €7.80 to the 2nd (115m) and €12 to the 3rd (276m). Children aged three to 11 pay €2.50, €4.30 or €6.70. If you’re feeling fit and/or energetic you can avoid the lift queues by taking the stairs (over/under 25yr €4/3.10) in the south pillar as far as the 2nd platform.

PALAIS DE CHAILLOT Map

place du Trocadéro et du 11 November, 16e; Trocadéro

The two curved, colonnaded wings of the Palais de Chaillot, built for the 1937 Exposition Universelle held in Paris, and the terrace in between them afford an exceptional panorama of the Jardins du Trocadéro (named after a Spanish stronghold near Cádiz captured by the French in 1823), the Seine and the Eiffel Tower.

The palace’s western wing contains two interesting museums. The Musée de l’Homme (Museum of Mankind; 01 44 05 72 72; www.mnhn.fr; 17 place du Trocadéro et du 11 November, 16e; adult/4-16yr & student €7/5; 10am-5pm Mon, Wed-Fri, to 6pm Sat & Sun), straight ahead as you enter, focuses on human development, ethnology, population and population growth; it’s a branch of the Musée National d’Histoire Naturelle.

The Musée de la Marine (Maritime Museum; 01 53 65 69 69; www.musee-marine.fr; 17 place du Trocadéro et du 11 November, 16e; adult/student & 18-25yr €6.50/4.50, under 18yr free; 10am-6pm Wed-Mon), to the right of the main entrance, examines France’s naval adventures from the 17th century until today and boasts one of the world’s finest collections of model ships, as well as ancient figureheads, compasses, sextants, telescopes and paintings.

In the palace’s eastern wing is the new Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine ( 01 58 51 52 00; www.citechaillot.fr in French; 1 place du Trocadéro et du 11 November, 16; adult/student & 18-25yr €8/5, under 18yr free; 11am-7pm Mon, Wed & Fri-Sun, to 9pm Thu), a mammoth 23,000 sq metres of space spread over three floors and devoted to French architecture and heritage. The Galerie d’Architecture Moderne & Contemporaine (Gallery of Modern and Contemporary Architecture) on the 2nd floor examines current trends in France but the highlight (and core) of the museum is the collection of 350 wood and plaster casts (moulages) of cathedral portals, columns and altars, and replicas of murals and stained glass originally created for the 1878 Exposition Universelle. The views of the Eiffel Tower from the windows are equally monumental.

CINEAQUA Map

01 40 69 23 23; www.cineaqua.com; 2 av des Nations Unies, 16e; adult/13-17yr/3-12yr €19.50/15.50/12.50, under 3yr free; 10am-8pm

On the eastern side of the Jardins du Trocadéro is Europe’s newest and most ambitious aquarium, with 500 species ‘tanked’ in more than 3500 sq metres of space. The aquarium is divided into regions (Indo-Pacific, Caribbean etc), there are two or three films related to marine life and the seas playing at any one time, and there is much emphasis on the ecology and green issues. The shark tank and the enormous tank forming the backdrop to the café-restaurant are phenomenal.

PARC DU CHAMP DE MARS Map

Champ de Mars-Tour Eiffel or École Militaire

Running southeast from the Eiffel Tower, the grassy Field of Mars (named after the Roman god of war) was originally used as a parade ground for the cadets of the 18th-century École Militaire (Military Academy; Map), the vast, French-classical building (1772) at the southeastern end of the park in the 7e, which counts none other than Napoleon Bonaparte among its graduates. The wonderful Wall for Peace memorial (2000; www.wallforpeace.com) of steel and etched glass facing the academy and the statue of Maréchal Joffre (1870–1931) are by Clara Halter.

On 14 July 1790 the Fête de la Fédération (Federation Festival) was held on the Champ de Mars to celebrate the first anniversary of the storming of the Bastille. Four years later it was the location of the Fête de l’Être-Suprême (Festival of the Supreme Being), at which Robespierre presided over a ceremony that established a revolutionary ‘state religion’.

The Marionettes du Champ de Mars ( 01 48 56 01 44; allée du Général Margueritte, 7e; École Militaire) stage puppet shows (€3) in a covered and heated salle (hall) in the park at 3.15pm and 4.15pm on Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday.

MUSÉE DU QUAI BRANLY Map

01 56 61 70 00; www.quaibranly.fr; 37 quai Branly, 7e; adult/18-25yr & student €8.50/6, permanent collections free for under 18yr & after 6pm Sat for 18-25yr, 1st Sun of the month free; 11am-7pm Tue, Wed & Sun, to 9pm Thu-Sat Pont de l’Alma or Alma-Marceau

Opened to great fanfare in mid-2006, the architecturally impressive (Click here) but unimaginatively named Quai Branly Museum introduces the art and cultures of Africa, Oceania, Asia and the Americas through innovative displays, film and musical recordings. With Là où dialoguent les cultures (Where cultures communicate) as its motto, the museum is one of the most dynamic and forward-thinking in the world. The anthropological explanations are kept to a minimum; what is displayed here is meant to be viewed as art. A day pass allowing entry to the temporary exhibits as well as the permanent collection costs adult/concession €13/9.50; an audioguide is €5. And don’t miss the views from the 5th-floor restaurant Les Ombres.


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EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT
 

FLAME OF LIBERTY MEMORIAL Map

Alma-Marceau

This bronze sculpture – a replica of the one topping New York’s Statue of Liberty – was placed here in 1987 on the centenary of the launch of the International Herald Tribune newspaper, as a symbol of friendship between France and the USA. On 31 August 1997 in the place d’Alma underpass below, Diana, Princess of Wales, was killed in a devastating car accident along with her companion, Dodi Fayed, and their chauffeur, Henri Paul, and the Flame of Liberty became something of a memorial to her, decorated with flowers, photographs, graffiti and personal notes. It was renovated and cleaned in 2002 and, this being the age of short (or no) memories, apart from a bit of sentimental graffiti on a wall nearby there are no longer any reminders of the tragedy that happened so close by and had so much of the Western world in grief at the time.

MUSÉE D’ART MODERNE DE LA VILLE DE PARIS Map

01 53 67 40 00; www.mam.paris.fr in French; 11 av du Président Wilson, 16e; temporary exhibits from adult €5-9, 13-25yr, senior & student €2.50-5.50, permanent collections free, under 13yr free; 10am-6pm Tue, Wed & Fri-Sun, to 10pm Thu; Iéna

The Modern Art Museum of the City of Paris was established in 1961. The museum is housed in what was the Electricity Pavilion at the time of the 1937 Exposition Universelle, and displays works representative of just about every major artistic movement of the 20th and nascent 21st centuries: Fauvism, cubism, Dadaism, surrealism, the School of Paris, expressionism, abstractionism and so on. Artists who have works on display include Matisse, Picasso, Braque, Soutine, Modigliani and Chagall.

PALAIS DE TOKYO Click here

01 47 23 38 86; www.palaisdetokyo.com; 13 av du Président Wilson, 16e; adult/senior & 18-26yr €6/4.50, under 18yr free; noon-midnight Tue-Sun; Iéna

The Tokyo Palace, like the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris next door in yet another 1937 Exposition Universelle building, opened in 2002 as a Site de Création Contemporain (Site for Contemporary Arts). It has no permanent collection and plans no exhibitions of a single artist or theme but showcases ephemeral artwork, installations and performances. It’s event-driven rather than static and the whole idea is to get the viewer as close to the works of art and the artists as possible.

MUSÉE GALLIERA DE LA MODE DE LA VILLE DE PARIS Map

01 56 52 86 00; www.galliera.paris.fr, in French; 10 av Pierre 1er de Serbie, 16e; adult/14-26yr/student & senior €7/3.50/5.50, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Iéna

The Fashion Museum of the City of Paris, housed in the 19th-century Palais Galliera, warehouses some 90,000 outfits and accessories – from canes and umbrellas to fans and gloves – from the 18th century to the present day and exhibits them along with items borrowed from collections abroad offering tremendously successful temporary exhibitions. The sumptuous Italianate palace and gardens dating from the mid-19th century are worth a visit in themselves.

MUSÉE GUIMET DES ARTS ASIATIQUES Click here

01 56 52 53 00; www.museeguimet.fr; 6 place d’Iéna, 16e; temporary exhibits adult €6.50-8.50, 18-25, student & senior €4.50-6, permanent collections free, under 18yr free; 10am-6pm Wed-Mon; Iéna

The Guimet Museum of Asiatic Arts is France’s foremost repository for Asian art and has sculptures, paintings, objets d’art and religious articles from Afghanistan, India, Nepal, Pakistan, Tibet, Cambodia, China, Japan and Korea. Part of the collection, comprising Buddhist paintings and sculptures brought to Paris in 1876 by collector Émile Guimet, is housed in the Galeries du Panthéon Bouddhique du Japon et de la Chine (Buddhist Pantheon Galleries of Japan & China; 01 47 23 61 65; 19 av d’Iéna; admission free; 10am-6pm Wed-Mon; Iéna) in the scrumptious Hôtel Heidelbach a short distance to the north. Don’t miss the wonderful Japanese garden ( 1-5pm Wed-Mon) here.

GALERIE-MUSÉE BACCARAT Map

01 40 22 11 00; www.baccarat.com; 11 place des États-Unis, 16e; adult/student & 18-25yr €5/3.50, under 18yr free; 10am-6.30pm Mon, Wed & Sat; Boissière or Kléber

Showcasing 1000 stunning pieces of crystal, many of them custom-made for princes and dictators of desperately poor former colonies, this flashy museum is at home in its striking new rococo-style premises designed by Philippe Starck in the ritzy 16e. It is also home to a superb restaurant called – what else? – Le Cristal Room.

MUSÉE DAPPER Map

01 44 00 91 75; www.dapper.com.fr; 35 rue Paul Valéry, 16e; adult/senior & student €6/3, under 18yr free, last Wed of the month free; 11am-7pm Wed-Sun; Victor Hugo

This fantastic museum of sub-Saharan African and Caribbean art collected and exhibited by the nonprofit Dapper Foundation (in a 16th-century hôtel particulier with wonderful 21st-century add-ons) stages a couple of major exhibitions each year. The collection consists mostly of carved wooden figurines and masks, which famously influenced the work of Picasso, Braque and Man Ray. The ever-active auditorium sponsors African and Caribbean cultural events year-round – from concerts and storytelling to films and marionette performances.

MUSÉE DU VIN Map

01 45 25 63 26; www.museeduvinparis.com; rue des Eaux, 5 square Charles Dickens, 16e; adult/student/senior €8.90/7/7.50, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Passy

The not-so-comprehensive Wine Museum, headquarters of the prestigious International Federation of Wine Brotherhoods, introduces visitors to the fine art of viticulture with various mock-ups and displays of tools. Admission includes a glass of wine at the end of the visit. Entry is free if you have lunch at the attached Restaurant Musée du Vin.


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FOR CHILDREN
 

MAISON DE BALZAC Map

01 55 74 41 80; www.balzac.paris.fr, in French; 47 rue Raynouard, 16e; temporary exhibits adult/14-26yr/senior & student €4/2/3, permanent collections free, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Passy or Kennedy Radio France

This pretty, three-storey spa house in Passy, about 800m southwest of the Jardins du Trocadéro, is where the realist novelist Honoré de Balzac (1799–1850) lived and worked from 1840 to 1847, editing the entire Comédie Humaine and writing various books. There’s lots of memorabilia, letters, prints and portraits and is probably for die-hard Balzac fans only.

MUSÉE DU STYLO ET DE L’ÉCRITURE Click here

06 07 94 13 21; 3 rue Guy de Maupassant, 16e; adult/senior & student €2/1; 2-6pm Sun; Av Henri Martin or Rue de la Pompe

The Museum of the Pen and of Penmanship has the most important collection of writing utensils in the world – with pens dating back to the mid-18th century – as well as paper and calligraphy. It can be visited on other days if you phone and book in advance.

MUSÉE DE LA CONTREFAÇON Map

01 56 26 14 00; 16 rue de la Faisanderie, 16e; adult/12-16yr €4/3, under 12yr free; 2-5.30pm Tue-Sun; Porte Dauphine

This fascinating museum east of Porte Dauphine is the real thing, dedicated to the not-so-fine art of counterfeiting. Apparently nothing is sacred to the manufacturers of ersatz: banknotes, liqueurs, designer clothing, even Barbie and Ken dolls. What makes this museum, established by the Union des Fabricants (Manufacturers’ Union), so interesting is that it displays the real against the fake and lets you spot the difference. Most of the time it’s as plain as the nose (the real, not the plastic one) on your face.

MUSÉE MARMOTTAN-MONET Click here

01 44 96 50 33; www.marmottan.com; 2 rue Louis Boilly, 16e; adult/8-25yr €9/5.50, under 8yr free; 11am-9pm Tue, to 6pm Wed-Sun; La Muette

This museum, two blocks east of the Bois de Boulogne between Porte de la Muette and Porte de Passy, has the world’s largest collection of works by impressionist painter Claude Monet (1840–1926) – about a hundred – as well as paintings by Gauguin, Sisley, Pissarro, Renoir, Degas, Manet and Berthe Morisot. It also contains an important collection of French, English, Italian and Flemish miniatures from the 13th to the 16th centuries.


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ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

The 8e arrondissement was born under a lucky star, it would seem. Its avenues radiate from place de l’Étoile – officially place Charles de Gaulle – bathing in the glow of fame. First among them is the av des Champs-Élysées. From the Arc de Triomphe in the northwest to the place de la Concorde in the southeast, this broad boulevard rules supreme. On New Year’s Eve and after major sporting victories there’s always a huge party here. Like a splendid, regal hostess, the avenue receives its guests, makes them mingle and moves them along. And the guests keep coming. Just a short walk away, the av Montaigne haughtily displays its designer wares. And members of the jet set go shopping along av George V and rue du Faubourg St-Honoré. Here, fashion, art and luxury hotels go hand in hand. Only the finest are on display, as in the neighbourhood’s theatres and museums, such as the Grand Palais and Petit Palais.

ARC DE TRIOMPHE Map

01 55 37 73 77; www.monuments-nationaux.fr; viewing platform adult/18-25yr €9/6.50, under 18yr free, 1st Sun of the month Nov-Mar free; 10am-11pm Apr-Sep, to 10.30pm Oct-Mar; Charles de Gaulle-Étoile

The Triumphal Arch is 2km northwest of place de la Concorde in the middle of place Charles de Gaulle (aka place de l’Étoile), the world’s largest traffic roundabout and the meeting point of 12 avenues (and three arrondissements). It was commissioned in 1806 by Napoleon to commemorate his imperial victories but remained unfinished when he started losing – at first battles and then whole wars. It was finally completed under Louis-Philippe in 1836. Among the armies to march triumphantly through the Arc de Triomphe were the Germans in 1871, the Allies in 1919, the Germans again in 1940 and the Allies again in 1944.

The most famous of the four high-relief panels at the base is to the right, facing the arch from the av des Champs-Élysées side. Entitled Départ des Volontaires de 1792 (Departure of the Volunteers of 1792) and also known as La Marseillaise (France’s national anthem), it is the work of François Rude. Higher up, a frieze running around the whole monument depicts hundreds of figures, each one 2m high.


TRANSPORT: ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
Bus av des Champs-Élysées for 73 to La Défense (west) & Musée d’Orsay (east), for 42 to Grands Boulevards, Opéra & Gare du Nord

Metro Champs-Élysées Clemenceau, Charles De Gaulle-Étoile, Franklin D Roosevelt, George V

Boat Champs-Élysées Batobus stop (Port des Champs-Élysées)

From the viewing platform on top of the arch (50m up via 284 steps and well worth the climb) you can see the dozen broad avenues – many of them named after Napoleonic victories and illustrious generals – radiating towards every compass point. Av de la Grande Armée heads northwest to the skyscraper district of La Défense, where the Grande Arche, a hollow cube measuring 110m on each side, defines the western end of the Grand Axe (the ‘Great Axis’ linking the Louvre and the Arc de Triomphe). Tickets to the viewing platform of the Arc de Triomphe are sold in the underground passageway that surfaces on the even-numbered side of av des Champs-Élysées. It is the only sane way to get to the base of the arch and is not linked to nearby metro tunnels.

AVENUE DES CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES Map

Charles de Gaulle-Étoile, George V, Franklin D Roosevelt or Champs-Élysées Clemenceau

Av des Champs-Élysées (the name refers to the ‘Elysian Fields’ where happy souls dwelt in the hereafter, according to Greek myth) links place de la Concorde with the Arc de Triomphe. The avenue has symbolised the style and joie de vivre of Paris since the mid-19th century and remains a popular tourist destination.

Some 400m north of av des Champs-Élysées is rue du Faubourg St-Honoré (8e), the western extension of rue St-Honoré. It has renowned couture houses, jewellers, antique shops and the 18th-century Palais de l’Élysée (cnr rue du Faubourg St-Honoré & av de Marigny, 8e; Champs-Élysées Clemenceau), which is the official residence of the French president.

At the bottom of av des Champs-Élysées, on place Clemenceau, is a 3.6m-tall bronze statue of General Charles de Gaulle in full military gear ready to march down the broad avenue to the Arc de Triomphe in a liberated Paris on 26 August 1944.

GRAND PALAIS Map

01 44 13 17 17, reservations 08 92 68 46 94; www.grandpalais.fr, in French; 3 av du Général Eisenhower, 8e; with/without booking adult €11/10, student & 13-25yr €10/8, under 13yr free; 10am-10pm Fri-Mon & Wed, to 8pm Thu; Champs-Élysées Clemenceau

The ‘Great Palace’, erected for the 1900 Exposition Universelle, houses the Galeries Nationales du Grand Palais beneath its huge Art Nouveau glass roof. Special exhibitions, among the biggest the city stages, last three or four months. You’ll understand just how popular most of the exhibitions here are – and the importance of booking in advance – when you see the queues (especially at the weekend) looping halfway round the building.

PETIT PALAIS Map

01 53 43 40 00; www.petitpalais.paris.fr, in French; av Winston Churchill, 8e; temporary exhibits adult/14-26yr/senior & student €9/4.50/6.50, permanent collections free, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Wed-Sun, to 8pm Tue; Champs-Élysées Clemenceau

The ‘Little Palace’, like the Grand Palais opposite also built for the 1900 Exposition Universelle, is home to the Musée des Beaux-Arts de la Ville de Paris, the Paris municipality’s Museum of Fine Arts. It specialises in medieval and Renaissance objets d’art like porcelain and clocks, tapestries, drawings and 19th-century French painting and sculpture.

PALAIS DE LA DÉCOUVERTE Map

01 56 43 20 21; www.palais-decouverte.fr,

in French; av Franklin D Roosevelt, 8e; adult/senior, student & 5-18yr €7/4.50, under 5yr free; 9.30am-6pm Tue-Sat, 10am-7pm Sun; Champs-Élysées Clemenceau

The Palace of Discovery, inaugurated during the 1937 Exposition Universelle and thus the world’s first interactive museum, is a fascinating place to take kids thanks to its hands-on exhibits on astronomy, biology, medicine, chemistry, mathematics, computer science, physics and earth sciences. The planetarium (admission €3.50) usually has four shows a day (in French) at 11.30am, 2pm, 3.15pm and 4.30pm; call or consult the website for current schedules.


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ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
 
  • Arc de Triomphe (opposite)
  • Av des Champs-Élysées (opposite)
  • Petit Palais (left)
  • Place de la Madeleine (below)
  • Place de la Concorde (below)

PLACE DE LA CONCORDE Map

Concorde

Place de la Concorde was laid out between 1755 and 1775. The 3300-year-old pink granite obelisk with the gilded top standing in the centre of the square was presented to France in 1831 by Muhammad Ali, viceroy and pasha of Egypt. Weighing 230 tonnes and towering 23m over the cobblestones, it once stood in the Temple of Ramses at Thebes (now Luxor). The eight female statues adorning the four corners of the square represent France’s largest cities (at least in the second half of the 18th century).

In 1793, Louis XVI’s head was lopped off by a guillotine set up in the northwest corner of the square near the statue representing the city of Brest. During the next two years, another guillotine – this one near the entrance to the Jardin des Tuileries – was used to behead 1343 more people, including Marie-Antoinette and, six months later, the Revolutionary leader Danton. Shortly thereafter, Robespierre lost his head here, too. The square was given its present name after the Reign of Terror in the hope that it would become a place of peace and harmony.

PLACE DE LA MADELEINE Map

Madeleine

Ringed by fine-food shops, the place de la Madeleine is 350m north of place de la Concorde, at the end of rue Royale. The square is named after the 19th-century neoclassical church in its centre, the Église de Ste-Marie Madeleine (Church of St Mary Magdalene; 01 44 51 69 00; www.eglise-lamadeleine.com, in French; place de la Madeleine, 8e; 9.30am-7pm). Constructed in the style of a Greek temple, what is now simply called ‘La Madeleine’ was consecrated in 1842 after almost a century of design changes and construction delays. It is surrounded by 52 Corinthian columns standing 20m tall, and the marble-and-gilt interior is topped by three sky-lit cupolas. You can hear the massive organ being played at Mass at 11am and 7pm on Sunday.

The monumental staircase on the south side affords one of the city’s most quintessential Parisian panoramas: down rue Royale to place de la Concorde and its obelisk and across the Seine to the Assemblée Nationale. The gold dome of the Invalides appears in the background.

Paris’ cheapest belle époque attraction is the public toilet ( 10am-noon & 1-6.15pm) on the east side of La Madeleine, which dates from 1905. There has been a flower market ( 8am-8pm) on the east side of the church since 1832.

CHAPELLE EXPIATOIRE Map

01 44 32 18 00; www.monuments-nationaux.fr; square Louis XVI, 8e; adult/18-25yr €5/3.50, under 18yr free; 1-5pm Thu-Sat; St-Augustin

The austere, neoclassical Atonement Chapel, opposite 36 rue Pasquier, sits atop the section of a cemetery where Louis XVI, Marie-Antoinette and many other victims of the Reign of Terror were buried after their executions in 1793. It was erected by Louis’ brother, the restored Bourbon king Louis XVIII, in 1815. Two years later the royal bones were removed to the Basilique de St-Denis.

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CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE

Drinking; Eating; Sleeping

This area stretches from the elegant residential districts of the haute bourgeoisie (upper middle class) that surround 8.25-hectare Parc de Monceau in the 8e eastward to the Gare St-Lazare, an impressive iron structure built in 1851, and then north to Clichy and the 17e arrondissement.

The 17e is a veritable kaleidoscope of different identies. Its southern neighbourhoods – with their beautiful, Haussmann-era buildings – seem almost like an extension of the 8e and 16e arrondissements, while its northern neighbourhoods assert their working-class, anarchistic identity. The wide av de Wagram, av des Ternes and av de Villiers have both residential and commercial aspects and boast some fine restaurants and shops. A maze of small streets with a pronounced working-class character stretches out around the av de Clichy, a pocket of old Paris that has somehow managed to survive.

The Clichy-Batignolles district to the west of the av de Clichy is a new quartier boasting socially integrated housing around a 10-hectare park.

MUSÉE JACQUEMART-ANDRÉ Map

01 45 62 11 59; www.musee-jacquemart-andre.com; 158 blvd Haussmann, 8e; adult/7-17yr & student incl audioguide €10/7.30, under 7yr free; 10am-6pm; Miromesnil

The Jacquemart-André Museum, founded by collector Édouard André and his portraitist wife Nélie Jacquemart, is in an opulent mid-19th-century residence on one of Paris’ posher avenues. It has furniture, tapestries and enamels, but is most noted for its paintings by Rembrandt and Van Dyck and Italian Renaissance works by Bernini, Botticelli, Carpaccio, Donatello, Mantegna, Tintoretto, Titian and Uccello. Don’t miss the Jardin d’Hiver (Winter Garden), with its marble statuary, tropical plants and double-helix marble staircase. Just off it is the delightful fumoir (the erstwhile smoking room) filled with exotic objects collected by Jacquemart during her travels. The salon de thé (tearoom; 11.45am-5.45pm) is one of the most beautiful in the city.


NICOLA’S TOP PARIS DAY
When Matthias sought to convince me a dozen years ago that France was the country we should plump for, he sensibly whisked me to Paris, where we spent a whirlwind week of perfect days…zigzagging around Daniel Buren’s zebra columns at the Palais Royal, visiting Musée Picasso and Musée Rodin, marvelling at that incredible blue at Ste-Chapelle, ogling at the view of La Grande Arche slotted like a toy brick inside the Arc de Triomphe from place de la Concorde and the Champs-Élysées, eating ice cream on Île St-Louis and lounging forever in the Jardin du Luxembourg on those mythical sage-green chairs we then yearned to buy for years: (Fermob was finally allowed to reproduce the 1923 original – mine’s fuschia pink, his, boy-blue). These still are my perfect Parisian days, pebble-dashed with fave-of-the-moment food/drink addresses: Le Coupe-Chou, Le Cristal del Sel, Le Pré Verre, Le Verre à Pied, the Curio Parlor Cocktail Club and Quatrehommes.


TRANSPORT: CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE
Bus Place de Clichy for 68 to Opéra, Musée d’Orsay, rue du Bac, St-Germain & blvd Raspail; Gare St-Lazare for 21 to Opéra, Latin Quarter, Jardin du Luxembourg & Cité Universitaire

Metro Malesherbes, Monceau, Place de Clichy Rome, St-Lazare, Villiers, Europe

Train Gare St-Lazare

MUSÉE NISSIM DE CAMONDO Map

01 53 89 06 50; www.lesartsdecoratifs.fr; 63 rue de Monceau, 8e; adult/18-25yr €6/4.50, under 18yr free; 10am-5.30pm Wed-Sun; Monceau or Villiers

The Nissim de Camondo Museum, housed in a sumptuous mansion modelled on the Petit Trianon at Versailles, displays 18th-century furniture, wood panelling, tapestries, porcelain and other objets d’art collected by Count Moïse de Camondo, a Sephardic Jewish banker who settled in Paris from Constantinople in the late 19th century. He bequeathed the mansion and his collection to the state on the proviso that it would be a museum named in memory of his son Nissim (1892–1917), a pilot killed in action during WWI. The museum is run by the same group responsible for the trio of museums in the Rohan Wing of the Palais du Louvre called Les Arts Décoratifs.

MUSÉE CERNUSCHI Map

01 53 96 21 50; www.cernuschi.paris.fr, in French; 7 av Vélasquez, 8e; temporary exhibits adult/14-26yr/student & senior €7/3.50/5.50, permanent collections free, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Villiers

The Cernuschi Museum, renovated and its exhibition space redefined and enlarged in recent years, houses the city of Paris’ Musée des Arts de l’Asie (Asian Arts Museum). In essence it’s a collection of ancient Chinese art (funerary statues, bronzes, ceramics) and some works from Japan assembled during an 1871–73 world tour by the Milan banker and philanthropist Henri Cernuschi (1821–96), who settled in Paris before the unification of Italy.


top picks
SQUARES
 

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OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

Place de l’Opéra, site of Paris’ world-famous opera house, abuts the eight contiguous ‘Grands Boulevards’ (Madeleine, Capucines, Italiens, Montmartre, Poissonnière, Bonne Nouvelle, St-Denis and St-Martin) that stretch from elegant place de la Madeleine in the 8e eastwards to the up-and-coming place de la République (Map) in the 3e, a distance of just under 3km. The Grands Boulevards were laid out under Louis XIV in the 17th century on the site of obsolete city walls and served as a centre of café and theatre life through much of the 18th and 19th centuries, reaching the height of fashion during the belle époque Click here. North of the western end of the Grands Boulevards is blvd Haussmann (8e and 9e), the heart of the commercial and banking district and known for some of Paris’ most famous department stores, including Galeries Lafayette and Le Printemps.

PALAIS GARNIER Map

www.operadeparis.fr, in French; place de l’Opéra, 9e; Opéra

This renowned opera house was designed in 1860 by Charles Garnier to showcase the splendour of Napoleon III’s France. Unfortunately, by the time it was completed – 15 years later – the Second Empire was but a distant memory and Napoleon III had been dead for two years. Still, this is one of the most impressive monuments erected in Paris during the 19th century; today it stages ballets, classical music concerts and, of course, opera Click here. If you’re not catching a performance here, it can be visited on English-language guided tours ( 08 25 05 44 05; http://visites.operadeparis.fr; adult/10-25yr/senior €12/6/10; 11.30am & 2.30pm daily Jul & Aug, 11.30am & 2.30pm Wed, Sat & Sun Sep-Jun).

The Palais Garnier also houses the Musée de l’Opéra ( 08 92 89 90 90, 01 40 01 24 93; adult/senior, student & 10-25yr €8/5, under 10yr free; 10am-5pm Sep-Jun, to 6pm Jul & Aug), which contains three centuries’ worth of costumes, backdrops, scores and other memorabilia. Included in the admission to the museum is a self-paced visit to the opera house itself, as long as there’s not a daytime rehearsal or matinee scheduled (in which case it closes at 1pm).

MUSÉE DU PARFUM Map

01 47 42 04 56; www.fragonard.com; 9 rue Scribe, 2e; admission free; 9am-6pm Mon-Sat, 9.30am-4pm Sun mid-Mar–Oct; Opéra

The Perfume Museum, run by the perfumerie Fragonard (but under extensive renovation when we last visited), is a fragrant collection opposite the Palais Garnier, tracing the history of scent and perfume-making from ancient Egypt (those mummies wouldn’t have smelled very nice undoused) to today’s designer brands. A short distance to the south is the Théâtre-Musée des Capucines (Map; 01 42 60 37 14; 39 blvd des Capucines, 2e; 9am-6pm Mon-Sat; Opéra), a kind of branch located in an early 20th-century theatre that concentrates largely on bottling (for example, in crystal flasks from Bohemia) and packaging the heady substance. There’s a decent short film here and, of course, a shop selling Fragonard scents.

MUSÉE GRÉVIN Map

01 47 70 85 05; www.grevin.com; 10 blvd Montmartre, 9e; adult/6-14yr/under 6yr/senior& student €18.50/11/9.50/16; 10am-6.30pm Mon-Fri, to 7pm Sat & Sun; Grands Boulevards

This large waxworks museum inside the passage Jouffroy boasts an impressive 300 wax figures. They largely look more like caricatures than characters, but where else do you get to see Marilyn Monroe, Charles de Gaulle and Spider Man face to face, or the original death masks of some of the French Revolution leaders? The recently renovated Palais des Mirages (Hall of Mirrors), created for the 1889 Exposition Universelle, dazzles, but the admission fee is positively outrageous and just won’t stop a-growin’ each year.

MUSÉE DE LA FRANC-MAÇONNERIE Map

01 45 23 74 07; 16 rue Cadet, 9e; admission €2; 2-6pm Tue-Sat; Cadet or Peletier

This museum, housed in the colossal and quite impressive Grande Orient de France building, provides a brief introduction to the secretive world of Freemasonry, which grew out of medieval stonemasons’ guilds of the 16th century. A visit to the museum with a guided tour of the building (in French) at 10.30am Wednesday or 2.30pm Saturday costs €6.

MUSÉE NATIONAL GUSTAVE MOREAU Map

01 48 74 38 50; www.musee-moreau.fr; 14 rue de La Rochefoucauld, 9e; adult/18-25yr & everyone on Sun €7/5, under 18yr free, 1st Sun of the month free; 10am-12.45pm & 2-5.15pm Wed-Mon; Trinité

The Gustave Moreau Museum is dedicated to the eponymous symbolist painter’s work. Housed in what was once Moreau’s studio, the two-storey museum is crammed with 4800 of his paintings, drawings and sketches. Some of Moreau’s paintings are fantastic – in both senses of the word. We particularly like La Licorne (The Unicorn), inspired by La Dame à la Licorne (The Lady with the Unicorn) cycle of tapestries in the Musée National du Moyen Age.


TRANSPORT: OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS
Bus Opéra for 20 to République, Bastille & Gare de Lyon, for 22 to Charles de Gaulle-Étoile, for 29 to place des Victoires, Marais & Bastille, and for 39 to Palais Royal and St-Germain des Prés

Metro Cadet, Grands Boulevards, Opéra, Chaussée d’Antin, Richelieu Drouot

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GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

Two sorts of foot traffic give the 10e arrondissement its distinctive feel. The banks of the Canal St-Martin draw leisurely strollers, while travellers part (and are reunited) on the platforms of the Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est. Outside, the cafés and brasseries do a brisk trade, catering to travellers and locals. Nearby, the blvd de Magenta rushes like a swollen river, the noisy, impatient crowd spreading through the adjoining streets and pouring out onto the place de la République.

The buzzy, working-class area around blvd de Strasbourg and rue du Faubourg St-Denis, especially south of blvd de Magenta, is home to large communities of Indians, Bangladeshis, Pakistanis, West Indians, Africans, Turks and Kurds. Indeed, strolling through passage Brady is almost like stepping into a back alley in Mumbai or Dhaka.

Canal St-Martin – especially the quai de Jemmapes and the quai de Valmy, with their rows of plane and chestnut trees – seems a world away. Barges appear, pass silently, then vanish behind a lock. Little iron bridges and walkways span the still water. Rundown not so long ago, the canal has a new lease on life, helped in large part by the upmarket restaurants and bistros lining it.

CANAL ST-MARTIN Map

République, Jaurès, Jacques Bonsergent

The tranquil, 4.5km-long St-Martin Canal links the 10e with Parc de la Villette (Map) in the 19e via the Bassin de la Villette and Canal de l’Ourcq, and the canal makes its famous dogleg turn in this arrondissement. Its shaded towpaths are a wonderful place for a romantic stroll or a bike ride and take you past nine locks, metal bridges and ordinary Parisian neighbourhoods. Parts of the waterway – built between 1806 and 1825 to link the Seine with the 108km-long Canal de l’Ourcq – are higher than the surrounding land. The best way to see the canal is on tour from a canal boat.


TRANSPORT: GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE
Bus Gare de l’Est for 30 to Barbès, Pigalle, Place Clichy, Parc de Monceau, place des Ternes, place de l’Étoile & Trocadéro, for 31 to Barbès, Château Rouge, 18e arrondissement Mairie, Batignolles & place de l’Étoile, for 32 to Rond Point des Champs Élysées, av Champs-Élysées & Passy, for 39 for Palais Royal, St-Germain, rue de Sèvres & Porte de Versailles, for 47 for Centre Pompidou & Châtelet

Metro & RER Château d’Eau, Gare de l’Est, Gare du Nord, République, Strasbourg St-Denis

Train Gare de l’Est, Gare du Nord

PORTE ST-DENIS & PORTE ST-MARTIN Map

cnr rue du Faubourg St-Denis & blvd St-Denis, 10e; Strasbourg St-Denis

St Denis Gate, a 24m-high triumphal arch, was built in 1673 to commemorate Louis XIV’s campaign along the Rhine. On the northern side, carvings represent the fall of Maastricht in the same year (note the gilded fleur-de-lys).

Two blocks east is a similar arch, the less impressive, 17m-high Porte St-Martin (St Martin Gate) at the corner of rue du Faubourg St-Martin and blvd St-Denis. It was erected two years after Porte St-Denis to commemorate the capture of Besançon and the Franche-Comté region by Louis XIV’s armies.

MUSÉE DE L’ÉVANTAIL Map

01 42 08 90 20; 2 blvd de Strasbourg, 10e; adult/student/senior €6/3/4; 2-6pm Mon-Wed; Strasbourg St-Denis

Big fans of this museum, we always find it almost impossible to walk by without checking in on our favourite items – screen, folding and brisé (the kind with overlapping struts) fans. Around 900 of the breeze-makers are on display, dating as far back as the mid-18th century. The small museum is housed in what was once a well-known fan manufactory, and its original showroom, dating from 1893, is sublime. It’s open every weekday during the school holidays.

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MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE

Drinking; Eating

A solidly working-class quartier with little to recommend it until the 1990s, Ménilmontant, which shares the 11e arrondissement with Bastille, now boasts almost as many restaurants, bars and clubs as the Marais, especially along rue de Ménilmontant. On the other hand, the inner-city ‘village’ of Belleville, centred on blvd de Belleville in the 20e to the east, remains for the most part unpretentious and working class – though that too is changing – and is home to large numbers of immigrants, especially Muslims and Jews from North Africa and Vietnamese and ethnic Chinese from Indochina. For the most part, the 20e arrondissement has retained its working-class character. The city centre is far away, the Eiffel Tower but a beacon on the horizon; this Paris is rough and rebellious, friendly and alive. The multicultural tone of rue de Belleville and rue de Ménilmontant is amplified by blvd de Belleville, blvd de Ménilmontant and blvd de Charonne. The air is filled with the aroma of coriander, saffron and cumin, and the exotic sounds of African and Asian languages. A colourful, abundant market spills out over the footpaths of blvd de Belleville.

PARC DE BELLEVILLE Map

Couronnes

A few blocks east of blvd de Belleville, this lovely park occupies a hill almost 200m above sea level, set amid 4.5 hectares of greenery. Little known by visitors, the park (which opened in 1992) offers some of the best views of the city. The Maison de l’Air ( 01 43 28 47 63; 27 rue Piat, 20e; admission free; 1.30-5.30pm Tue-Fri, to 6.30pm Sat & Sun Mar-Oct, to 5.30pm Tue-Sun Nov-Feb; Pyrénées) stages temporary exhibitions related to ecology and the environment.

MUSÉE ÉDITH PIAF Map

01 43 55 52 72; 5 rue Crespin du Gast, 11e; admission free; by appointment 1-6pm Mon-Wed, 10am-noon Thu; Ménilmontant

Some 1.5km from the birthplace of the iconic chanteuse Édith Piaf (Click here) and closer to her final resting place in the Cimetière du Père Lachaise, this museum follows the life and career of the ‘urchin sparrow’ through memorabilia, recordings and video.


TRANSPORT: MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE
Bus Rue de Ménilmontant for 96 to rue Oberkampf, St-Paul, Hôtel de Ville, blvd St-Michel, Odéon & rue de Rennes; rue des Pyrénées for 26 to Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, Gare du Nord & Gare St-Lazare

Metro Belleville, Couronnes, Ménilmontant, Oberkampf, Pyrénées

CIMETIÈRE DU PÈRE LACHAISE Map

www.pere-lachaise.com; 8am-6pm Mon-Fri, 8.30am-6pm Sat, 9am-6pm Sun mid-Mar–early Nov, 8am-5.30pm Mon-Fri, 8.30am-5.30pm Sat, 9am-5.30pm Sun early Nov–mid-Mar; Philippe Auguste, Gambetta or Père Lachaise


GRAVE CONCERNS AT PÈRE LACHAISE
Camp as a row of tents and as fresh as a daisy, Oscar Wilde (1854–1900) is apparently as flamboyant in death as he was on his hotel deathbed, when he proclaimed ‘My wallpaper and I are fighting a duel to the death – one of us has got to go.’ It seems that the Père Lachaise grave of the Irish playwright and humorist, who was sentenced to two years in prison in 1895 for gross indecency stemming from his homosexual relationship with Lord Alfred ‘Bosie’ Douglas (1870–1945), has been attracting admirers, who plaster the ornate tomb with indelible lipstick kisses.
But Wilde’s tomb is not the only grave concern at Père Lachaise these days. A security guard had to be posted near the grave of rock singer Jim Morrison (1943–71) not long ago after fans began taking drugs and having sex on his tomb. The cemetery’s conservation office has even issued a leaflet outlining the rules of conduct when visiting the grave. Meanwhile, up in division 92, a protest by women has seen the removal of a metal fence placed around the grave of one Victor Noir, pseudonym of the journalist Yvan Salman (1848–70), who was shot and killed by Pierre Bonaparte, great-nephew of Napoleon, at the age of just 22. According to legend, a woman who strokes the amply filled crotch of Monsieur Noir’s prostrate bronze effigy will enjoy a better sex life or become pregnant. Apparently some would-be lovers and mothers were rubbing a bit too enthusiastically and the larger-than-life-size package was being worn down, the (now dismantled) fence was built to protect the statue.

The world’s most visited cemetery, Père Lachaise (named after a confessor of Louis XIV) opened its one-way doors in 1804. Its 69,000 ornate, even ostentatious, tombs of the rich and/or famous form a verdant, 44-hectare sculpture garden. Among the 800,000 people buried here are: the composer Chopin; the playwright Molière; the poet Apollinaire; writers Balzac, Proust, Gertrude Stein and Colette; the actors Simone Signoret, Sarah Bernhardt and Yves Montand; the painters Pissarro, Seurat, Modigliani and Delacroix; the chanteuse (singer) Édith Piaf; the dancer Isadora Duncan; and even those immortal 12th-century lovers, Abélard and Héloïse (Click here), whose remains were disinterred and reburied here together in 1817 beneath a neogothic tombstone.

Particularly visited graves are those of Oscar Wilde, interred in Division 89 in 1900, and 1960s rock star Jim Morrison, who died in an flat at 17–19 rue Beautreillis (4e; Map) in the Marais in 1971 and is buried in Division 6.

On 27 May 1871, the last of the Communard insurgents, cornered by government forces, fought a hopeless, all-night battle among the tombstones. In the morning, the 147 survivors were lined up against the Mur des Fédérés (Wall of the Federalists), shot and buried where they fell in a mass grave. It is in the southeastern section of the cemetery.

Père Lachaise has five entrances, two of which are on blvd de Ménilmontant. Maps indicating the location of noteworthy graves are available for free from the conservation office ( 01 55 25 82 10; 16 rue du Repos, 20e) in the southwestern corner of the cemetery.


UNDERGROUND ART
Museums and galleries are not the sole proprietors of art in Paris. Indeed, it is all around you – even in metro stations. Almost half of the 373 stations were given a face-lift to mark the centenary of the world-famous Métropolitain in 2000, and many of them were assigned specific themes, usually relating to the quartier or the name of the station (eg Montparnasse Bienvenüe looks at the creation of the metro since it was an engineer named Fulgence Bienvenüe who oversaw the building of the first 91km from 1886). Work has continued apace at even more stations ever since.
Line 14 – the so-called ‘Météor’ between St-Lazare and Olympiades in the 13e – is a particularly arty one, especially on the way down to the platforms, where art is projected onto the walls at different levels. At varying times, other stations and lines might have temporary exhibitions. In 2008 line 10 made use of a ghost station (Croix Rouge, between Sèvres-Babylone and Mabillon) to tease with pink neon and demure black curtains, promoting an X-rated exhibition on erotic art and pornography at the Bibliothèque Nationale de France.
Though very much ‘above ground’, the nine works of art that follow the 8km course of tram line T3 Click here through the 13e, 14e and 15e includes a giant ‘Telephone’ by Sophie Calle and Frank Gehry and a wonderful ‘Skate Park’ by Peter Kogler.
The following list is just a sample of the most interesting stations from an artistic perspective. The specific platform is mentioned for those stations served by more than one line.

Abbesses (Map; line 12) The noodle-like pale-green metalwork and glass canopy of the station entrance is one of the finest examples of the work of Hector Guimard (1867–1942), the celebrated French Art Nouveau architect whose signature style once graced most metro stations. For a complete list of the metro stations that retain édicules (shrine-like entranceways) designed by Guimard, www.parisinconnu.com.

Arts et Métiers (Map; line 11 platform) The copper panelling, portholes and mechanisms of this station recall Jules Verne, Captain Nemo and collections of the nearby Musée des Arts et Métiers.

Bastille (Map; line 5 platform) A large ceramic fresco features scenes taken from newspaper engravings published during the Revolution, with illustrations of the destruction of the infamous prison.

Bibliothèque (Map; line 14) This enormous station – all screens, steel and glass, and the terminus of the high-speed (and driverless) Météor – resembles a hi-tech cathedral.

Bonne Nouvelle (Map; platforms on lines 8 & 9) The theme here is cinema, presumably because of all the movie theatres along the Grands Boulevards.

Carrefour Pleyel (line 13) This station just south of St-Denis (Map) and named in honour of composer and piano-maker Ignace Joseph Pleyel (1757–1831) focuses on classical music.

Champs-Élysées Clemenceau (Map; transfer corridor btwn lines 1 & 13) The elegant frescoes in blue enamelled faïence recall Portuguese azulejos tiles and so they should: they were installed as part of a cultural exchange between Paris and Lisbon.

Cluny–La Sorbonne (Map; line 10 platform) A large ceramic mosaic replicates the signatures of intellectuals, artists and scientists from the Latin Quarter through history.

Concorde (Map; line 12 platform) On the walls of the station, what look like children’s building blocks in white-and-blue ceramic are 45,000 tiles that spell out the text of the Déclaration des Droits de l’Homme et du Citoyen (Declaration of the Rights of Man and of the Citizen), the document setting forth the principles of the French Revolution.

Louvre–Rivoli (Map; line 1 platform & corridor) Statues, bas-reliefs and photographs offer a small taste of what to expect at the Musée du Louvre above ground.

Palais Royal–Musée du Louvre (Map) The zany entrance on the place du Palais Royal (a kind of back-to-the-future look at the Guimard entrances), designed by young artist Jean-Michel Othoniel, is made up of two crown-shaped cupolas (one representing the day, the other night) consisting of 800 red, blue, amber and violet glass balls threaded on an aluminium structure.

Parmentier (Map; line 3) The theme in this station is agricultural crops, particularly the potato – it was the station’s namesake, Antoine-Auguste Parmentier (1737–1817), who brought the spud into fashion in France.

Pont Neuf (Map; line 7) With the former mint and the Musée de la Monnaie de Paris just above it, the focus here is on medals and coins.

Tuileries (Map; line 1) Huge collages of B&W and colour photographs depict events in Paris since 1900.

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GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

The southern part of the 12e arrondissement is a fairly well-to-do quartier, and at the weekend hordes of cyclists and soccer players head for the woods. Walkers can stroll along the Promenade Plantée, a path along the viaduct above av Daumesnil. Within the arches, there are upmarket shops, galleries and cafés. On the other side of the Gare de Lyon, there’s the Parc de Bercy, where an orchard, vegetable patch and garden have replaced the old wine market.

Long cut off from the rest of the city but now joined to the Left Bank by the driverless Météor metro line (number 14), the vehicular Pont Charles de Gaulle and the stunning new Passerelle Simone de Beauvoir footbridge linking Parc de Bercy with the Bibliothèque National de France, Bercy has some of Paris’ most important new buildings, including Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy, serving as both an indoor sports arena and a venue for concerts, ballet and theatre; the giant Ministère de l’Économie, des Finances et de l’Industrie; the stunning Cinémathèque Française and the Docks en Seine, across the river. The development of Bercy Village, a row of former chais (wine warehouses) dating from 1877 that now houses bars and restaurants, and the arrival of river barges fitted out with music clubs have given the 12e a new lease on life after dark.

VIADUC DES ARTS Map

Gare de Lyon or Daumesnil

The arches beneath this disused railway viaduct running along av Daumesnil southeast of place de la Bastille are a showcase for trendy designers and artisans; if you need your Gobelins tapestry restored, porcelain repainted or the bottom of your antique saucepan re-coppered, this is the place to come. The top of the viaduct forms a leafy, 4.5km-long promenade called the Promenade Plantée (Map; 8am-5.45pm to 9.30pm Mon-Fri, 9am-5.45pm to 9.30pm Sat & Sun seasonal), which offers excellent views of the surrounding area. Don’t miss the spectacular Art Deco police station (Map; 85 av Daumesnil, 12e) at the start of rue de Rambouillet, which is topped with a dozen huge, identical marble torsos.

MAISON ROUGE Map

01 40 01 08 81; www.lamaisonrouge.org; 10 blvd de la Bastille, 12e; adult/student, senior & 13-18yr €6.50/4.50, under 13yr free; 11am-7pm Wed-Sun, to 9pm Thu; Quai de Rapée

Subtitled ‘Fondation Antoine de Galbert’ after the man who endowed it, this cutting-edge gallery shows contemporary artists and has good access to seldom-seen works from private collections. There’s a decent restaurant here and an excellent art bookshop called Bookstorming.

PARC DE BERCY Map

rue Paul Belmondo, 12e; 8am-5.45pm to 9.30pm Mon-Fri, 9am-5.45pm to 9.30pm Sat & Sun (seasonal); Bercy or Cour St-Émilion

This park, which links the Palais Omnisports with Bercy Village, is a particularly attractive, 13.5-hectare public garden. On an island in the centre of one of its large ponds is the Pavillon du Lac du Parc de Bercy ( 01 53 46 19 34; 10am-6pm Apr-Sep, 11am-5pm Oct-Mar), with temporary exhibitions. The Maison du Jardinage ( 01 53 46 19 19; 41 rue Paul Belmondo, 12e; 1.30-5.30pm Tue-Fri, to 6.30pm Sat & Sun Apr-Sep, to 5pm Tue-Sun Oct-Mar) in the centre of the park takes a close look at gardening and the environment, and offers courses.


TRANSPORT: GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY
Bus Gare de Lyon for 65 to Bastille, République, Gare de l’Est. Gare du Nord (via rue du Faubourg St-Denis); place de la Nation for 86 to Ledru Rollin (Marché d’Aligre), Bastille, Pont Sully (Île St-Louis) & Odéon; Bercy (rue de Bercy) for 24 quai St Bernard, blvd St-Michel, Pont Neuf, quai du Louvre, place de la Madeleine & place de la Concorde

Metro & RER Bercy, Cour St-Émilion, Daumesnil, Gare de Lyon, Nation

Train Gare de Lyon

CINÉMATHÈQUE FRANÇAISE Map

01 71 19 33 33; www.cinemathequefrancaise.com; 51 rue de Bercy, 12e; permanent collection adult/under 12yr/senior & 12-26yr €5/2.50/4, temporary exhibitions €8/5.50/6.50; noon-7pm Mon, Wed, Fri & Sat, to 10pm Thu, to 8pm Sun; Bercy

This national institution, better known for screening classic French and cutting-edge foreign films, is housed in stunning postmodern premises with plenty of exhibition space for its permanent collection and temporary exhibitions. It also houses screening rooms, the Bibliothèque du Film (Film Library) for researchers and an excellent specialist bookshop. Enter from place Leonard Bernstein.

MUSÉE DES ARTS FORAINS Map

01 43 40 16 22, 01 43 40 63 44; www.pavillons-de-bercy.com; Les Pavillons de Bercy, 53 av des Terroirs de France, 12e; adult/child €12.50/4; by appointment; Cour St-Émilion

The Museum of the Fairground Art, housed in several old wine warehouses in trendy Bercy Village, is a wonderful collection of old amusements from 19th-century funfairs – carousels, organs, stalls etc. Most of the items still work and are pure works of art. The place is usually only rented out for corporate events with minimum numbers but give a call or visit the website and try your luck.

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13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN

Drinking; Eating; Sleeping

Serious change is afoot in the 13e arrondissement, a once nondescript area south of the Latin Quarter and Jardin des Plantes (5e) that is rapidly becoming the city’s new star. Its renaissance was heralded in the 1990s b the controversial Bibliothèque Nationale de France and by the arrival of the high-speed Météor metro line, and is slated not to stop until 2015 (when the 26-year ZAC Paris Rive Gauche redevelopment project – www.parisrivegauche.com – ends).

A glamorous strip of interior-design shops now fronts riverside Quai de la Gare immediately north of the National Library and MK2 entertainment complex Click here. There’s the new river metro Click here. Then there’s the swimming pool on the Seine that floats not quite in the shade of the latest designer bridge to grace the river, the Passerelle Simone de Beauvoir (2006) – across which Right Bank night owls from Bercy hotfoot it to a trio of music venues moored in front of the library. Indeed, Parisian socialites bemoan the fact Bibliothéque is the last stop on the line, but they know this is a great place to be after dark. Once the new library and university buildings for Paris’ language and civilisation students open in 2010, there is no saying how many bars will open.

Cutting-edge architecture and design is one face of the 13e, a working-class district that will never lose its feisty spirit and down-to-earth grit. A place proud of its history, it has both a blvd Auguste Blanqui and place Nationale, a pairing propitious to the reconciliation between anarchism and patriotism.

Flit from Chinese restaurant to Vietnamese stall in the capital’s Chinatown, the area between av d’Italie and av de Choisy, and you feel you’ve imperceptibly changed continents. Or trip past the graffiti-covered façade of Les Frigos (www.les-frigos.com; rue des Frigos, 13e), an established artists’ squat with several galleries in a 1920s industrial building that used to be a train station for refrigerated wagons, and you could be in Berlin. In the Butte aux Cailles quartier, the jewel in this arrondissement’s crown, people still sing revolutionary songs from the time of the Paris Commune over chichi cuisine.

BIBLIOTHÈQUE NATIONALE DE FRANCE Map

01 53 79 53 79, 01 53 79 40 41; www.bnf.fr;

11 quai François Mauriac, 13e; temporary exhibitions adult/18-26yr/under 18yr from €7/5/free; 10am-7pm Tue-Sat, 1-7pm Sun; Bibliothèque

The four glass towers of the €2 billion National Library of France – conceived as a ‘wonder of the modern world’ – opened in 1995. No expense was spared to carry out a plan that many said defied logic. While books and historical documents are shelved in the sunny, 23-storey and 79m-high towers (shaped like half-open books), patrons sit in artificially lit basement halls built around a ‘forest courtyard’ of 140 50-year-old pines, trucked in from the countryside. The towers have since been fitted with a complex (and expensive) shutter system and the basement is prone to flooding from the Seine. The national library contains around 12 million tomes stored on some 420km of shelves and can hold 2000 readers and 2000 researchers. Temporary exhibitions (entrance E) revolve around ‘the word’, focusing on everything from storytelling to bookbinding and French heroes. Using the study library costs €3.30/35 per day/year while the research library costs €7/53 for three days/year.


TRANSPORT: 13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN
Bus Bibliothèque Nationale de France François Mitterrand for 62 through 13e along rue Tolbiac to rue d’Alésia (14e) & rue de la Convention (15e); porte d’Italie for 47 to place d’Italie, rue Monge, quai St Michel, Hôtel de Ville & Gare de l’Est; place d’Italie for 67 to Mosquée de Paris, Jardin des Plantes, Île de St-Louis, Hôtel de Ville & Pigalle; Olympiades & Place d’Italie for 83, to Jardin de Luxembourg, St-Germain & Invalides

Metro & RER Bibliothèque François Mitterrand, Porte de Choisy, Porte d’Italie, Place d’Italie, Tolbiac, Olympiades

DOCKS EN SEINE Map

30 quai d’Austerlitz, 13e; Gare d’Austerlitz

Watch this space! One of Paris’ most exciting projects, Docks en Seine is a 20,000-sq-metre riverside warehouse – goods were once brought to it by barge – being transformed into a state-of-the-art cultural centre. Once complete in mid-2008, it will house a few shops, a restaurant etc and be renamed Cité de la Mode et du Design to reflect its principal inhabitant, the Institut Français de la Mode (French Fashion Institute), Paris’ fashion school. A panoramic terrace, sun deck and waterside promenades will add jollifying touches to the 1907 industrial complex. For the best view of the startling lime-green ‘wave’ that dances across its vast, water-facing glass façade, cross the Seine over Pont Charles de Gaulle or hop aboard a Voguéo river metro.

MANUFACTURE DES GOBELINS Map

01 44 08 52 00; 42 av des Gobelins, 13e; adult/7-25yr/under 7yr €8/6/free; tours 2pm & 3pm Tue-Thu; Les Gobelins

The Gobelins Factory has been weaving haute lisse (high relief) tapestries on specialised looms since the 18th century along with Beauvais-style basse lisse (low relief) ones and Savonnerie rugs. The visit, by guided tour, takes you through the ateliers (workshops) and exhibits of the thousands carpets and tapestries woven here.

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15E ARRONDISSEMENT

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

After the war, entire battalions of steelworkers were drawn into the orbit of the 15e arrondissement, clocking in every morning at the Citroën factory or one of the neighbourhood’s numerous aeronautical companies. Over the years, the area has become more gentrified and residential. Av de la Motte-Picquet, blvd Pasteur and av Félix Faure are peaceful places – too peaceful for some tastes. For Unesco, the area seemed just right, and not far away the republic’s future officers converge on the majestic École Militaire.

But the 15e offers much more than bourgeois homes and institutions. Parisians flock to the shops and restaurants that line rue de la Convention, rue de Vaugirard (the longest street in Paris), rue St-Charles and rue du Commerce. On the quays, the towers of the Centre Beaugrenelle have long since abandoned their monopoly on futurism to the stylish, functional buildings occupied by TV stations Canal+ and France Télévision, and Parisians with their heart in the country can enjoy the Parc André-Citroën, one of the capital’s most beautiful open spaces.

MUSÉE BOURDELLE Map

01 49 54 73 73; www.bourdelle.paris.fr in French; 18 rue Antoine Bourdelle, 15e; adult/14-25yr/under 14yr €7/3.50/free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Falguière

The Bourdelle Museum contains monumental bronzes in the house and workshop where sculptor Antoine Bourdelle (1861–1929), a pupil of Rodin, lived and worked. The three sculpture gardens are particularly lovely and impart a flavour of belle époque and post-WWI Montparnasse. The museum usually has a temporary exhibition going on alongside its permanent collection (free on the rare occasion there’s no exhibition).

MUSÉE DE LA POSTE Map

01 42 79 24 24; www.museedelaposte.fr in French; 34 blvd de Vaugirard, 15e; permanent collection adult/under 18yr €5/free, temporary exhibition adult/13-18yr/under 13yr €6.50/5/free; 10am-6pm Mon-Sat; Montparnasse Bienvenüe or Pasteur

Think travel and exploration, not stamps, when it comes to the inspired temporary exhibitions hosted at the Postal Museum. The main collection – the history of the French postal service – is spread across several rooms on several floors and is equally impressive. Upon departure, don’t miss the shop selling every imaginable French stamp, from Harry Potter designs to romantic red heart-shaped stamps.


TRANSPORT: 15E ARRONDISSEMENT
Bus Blvd de Grenelle for 80 to Alma-Marceau, av Montaigne, av Matignon, Gare St-Lazare, Place Clichy & Lamarck Caulaincourt; rue de Vaugirard for 89 to Jardin du Luxembourg, Panthéon, Jardin des Plantes, Gare d’Austerliz & Bibliothèque Nationale de France François Mitterrand

Metro Commerce, Convention, Duroc, La Motte-Picquet Grenelle, Vaugirard

MUSÉE DU MONTPARNASSE Map

01 42 22 91 96; www.museedumontparnasse.net; 21 av du Maine, 15e; adult/12-18yr/under 12yr €6/5/free; 12.30-7pm Tue-Sun; Montparnasse Bienvenüe

Housed in the studio of Russian cubist artist Marie Vassilieff (1884–1957) down a surprisingly leafy alleyway off av du Maine, Montparnasse Museum doesn’t have a permanent collection; rather it recalls the great role Montparnasse played during various artistic periods of the 20th century, offered through temporary exhibitions.

MUSÉE PASTEUR Map

01 45 68 82 83; www.pasteur.fr; Institut Pasteur, 25 rue du Docteur Roux, 15e; adult/student €3/1.50; 2-5.30pm Mon-Fri Sep-Jul; Pasteur

Housed in the apartment where the famous chemist and bacteriologist spent the last seven years of his life (1888–95), a tour of this museum takes you through Pasteur’s private rooms, a hall with such odds and ends as gifts presented to him by heads of state and drawings he did as a young man. After Pasteur’s death, the French government wanted to entomb his remains in the Panthéon, but his family, acting in accordance with his wishes, obtained permission to have him buried at his institute. The great savant lies in the basement crypt.

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MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE

Drinking; Eating; Shopping; Sleeping

During the late 19th and early 20th centuries the bohemian lifestyle of Montmartre in the 18e attracted a number of important writers and artists. Although the activity shifted to Montparnasse after WWI, the 18e arrondissement thrives on crowds and a strong sense of community. When you’ve got the Butte de Montmartre (Montmartre Hill) and Sacré Cœur, what do you expect? Cascading steps, cobblestone streets, small houses with wooden shutters in narrow, quiet lanes; the charm of the quartier is immediately apparent. Rue Caulaincourt and av Junot flaunt their bourgeois credentials, while the streets around the square Willette, place des Abbesses and rue Lepic become steeper and narrower, the inhabitants younger and hipper.

The northern part of the 9e arrondissement has a rough-and-ready charm. The lights of the Moulin Rouge dominate blvd de Clichy, and a few blocks southeast is lively, neon-lit place Pigalle, one of Paris’ main sex districts. But Pigalle is more than just a sleazy red-light district: the area around blvd de Clichy between Pigalle and Blanche metro stations may be lined with erotica shops and striptease parlours, but there are also plenty of trendy nightspots, clubs and cabarets. South of Pigalle, the district known as Nouvelles Athènes (New Athens), with its beautiful Graeco-Roman architecture and private gardens, has long been favoured by artists.

BASILIQUE DU SACRÉ CŒUR Map

01 53 41 89 00; www.sacre-coeur-montmartre.com; place du Parvis du Sacré Cœur, 18e; 6am-10.30pm; Anvers

Sacred Heart Basilica, perched at the very top of Butte de Montmartre, was built from contributions pledged by Parisian Catholics as an act of contrition after the humiliating Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71. Construction began in 1876, but the basilica was not consecrated until 1919. In a way, atonement here has never stopped; a perpetual prayer ‘cycle’ that began at the consecration of the basilica continues round the clock to this day.

Some 234 spiralling steps lead you to the basilica’s dome (admission €5; 9am-7pm Apr-Sep, to 6pm Oct-Mar), which affords one of Paris’ most spectacular panoramas; they say you can see for 30km on a clear day. Weighing in at 19 tonnes, the bell called La Savoyarde in the tower above is the largest in France. The chapel-lined crypt, visited in conjunction with the dome, is huge but not very interesting.

PLACE DU TERTRE Map

Abbesses

Half a block west of Église St-Pierre de Montmartre, which once formed part of a 12th-century Benedictine abbey, is what was once the main square of the village of Montmartre. These days it’s filled with cafés, restaurants, tourists and rather obstinate portrait artists and caricaturists. who will gladly do your likeness. Whether it looks even remotely like you is another matter.


top picks
MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE
 

CIMETIÈRE DE MONTMARTRE Map

8am-6pm Mon-Fri, 8.30am-6pm Sat, 9am-6pm Sun mid-Mar–early Nov, 8am-5.30pm Mon-Fri, 8.30am-5.30pm Sat, 9am-5.30pm Sun early Nov–mid-Mar; Place de Clichy

Established in 1798, this 11-hectare cemetery is perhaps the most celebrated necropolis in Paris after Père Lachaise. It contains the graves of writers Émile Zola, Alexandre Dumas and Stendhal, composers Jacques Offenbach and Hector Berlioz, artist Edgar Degas, film director François Truffaut and dancer Vaslav Nijinsky – among others. The entrance closest to the Butte de Montmartre is at the end of av Rachel, just off blvd de Clichy, or down the stairs from 10 rue Caulaincourt.

Maps showing the location of the tombs are available free from the conservation office ( 01 53 42 36 30; 20 av Rachel, 18e) at the cemetery’s entrance.

MUSÉE DE MONTMARTRE Map

01 49 25 89 39; www.museedemontmartre.fr, in French; 12 rue Cortot, 18e; adult/senior, student & 10-25yr €7/5.50, under 10yr free; 11am-6pm Tue-Sun; Lamarck Caulaincourt

The Montmartre Museum displays paintings, lithographs and documents mostly relating to the area’s rebellious and bohemian/artistic past. It is located in a 17th-century manor house, which is the oldest structure in the quartier, and also stages exhibitions of artists who are still living in the quartier. There’s an excellent bookshop here that also sells small bottles of the wine produced from grapes grown in the Close du Montmartre.

DALÍ ESPACE MONTMARTRE Map

01 42 64 40 10; www.daliparis.com; 11 rue Poulbot, 18e; adult/student & 8-26yr/senior €10/6/7, under 8yr free; 10am-6.30pm; Abbesses

More than 300 works by Salvador Dalí (1904–89), the flamboyant Catalan surrealist printmaker, painter, sculptor and self-promoter, are on display at this surrealist-style basement museum located just west of place du Tertre. The collection includes Dalí’s strange sculptures (most in reproduction), lithographs, many of his illustrations and furniture (including the famous ‘lips’ sofa).


TRANSPORT: MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE
Bus 85 bus from Mairie du 18e, stop Muller for Montmartre/Sacré Cœur (10 to 15 minutes’ walk!) Bourse, Châtelet; place Pigalle for Montmartrobus through Montmartre from place Pigalle to 18e Mairie on place Jules Joffrin

Metro Abbesses, Anvers, Blanche, Lamarck Caulaincourt, Pigalle

Train The Petit Train de Montmartre ( 01 42 62 24 00; www.promotrain.fr; adult/child 3-12yr €5.50/3.50), a tourist ‘train’ with commentary, runs through Montmartre every 30 minutes or so from 10am or 10.30am to between 6pm and midnight daily, depending on the season

Funicular From square Willette to reach Butte de Montmartre

MUSÉE DE LA HALLE ST-PIERRE Map

01 42 58 72 89; www.hallesaintpierre.org in French; 2 rue Ronsard, 18e; adult/student, senior & under 26yr €7.50/6; 10am-6pm daily Sep-Jul, noon-6pm Mon-Fri Aug; Anvers

Founded in 1986, this museum and gallery is in the lovely old covered St Peter’s Market across from square Willette and the base of the funicular. It focuses on the primitive and Art Brut schools; there is no permanent collection as such but the museum stages some three temporary exhibitions a year. There’s a decent café on site.

MUSÉE DE L’ÉROTISME Map

01 42 58 28 73; www.musee-erotisme.com; 72 blvd de Clichy, 18e; adult/senior & student €8/5; 10am-2am; Blanche

The Museum of Erotic Art tries to put some 2000 titillating statuary, stimulating sexual aids and fetishist items from days gone by on a loftier plane, with antique and modern erotic art from four continents spread over seven floors and lots of descriptive information. But most of the punters know why they are here. Still, some of the exhibits are, well, breathtaking, to say the least.

MUSÉE DE LA VIE ROMANTIQUE Map

01 55 31 95 67; www.vie-romantique.paris.fr, in French; 16 rue Chaptal, 9e; temporary exhibitions adult/14-26yr/student & senior €7/3.50/5.50; permanent collection free, under 14yr free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Blanche or St-Georges

One of our favourite small museums in Paris, the Museum of the Romantic Life is in a splendid location at the lovely Hôtel Scheffer-Renan in the centre of the district once known as ‘New Athens’. The museum, at the end of a film-worthy cobbled lane, is devoted to the life and work of Amandine Aurore Lucile Dupin Baronne (1804–76) – better known to the world as George Sand – and her intellectual circle of friends and is full of paintings, objets d’art and personal effects. Don’t miss the tiny but delightful garden.

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LA VILLETTE

The Buttes-Chaumont, the Canal de l’Ourcq and the Parc de la Villette, with its wonderful museums and other attractions, create the winning trifecta of the 19e arrondissement. Combining the traditional with the innovative, the old-fashioned with the contemporary, this district makes a virtue of its contradictions. It may not possess the beauty of central Paris, but it is nonetheless full of delightful surprises. An aimless stroll or leisurely bike ride uncovers narrow streets lined with small houses. The Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, with its unusual rocky promontory, attracts local inhabitants at dawn, who run, cycle or do t’ai chi exercises. The quays along the Canal de l’Ourcq have been transformed over the past several years and have become one of the district’s main attractions. But the centrepiece is the Parc de la Villette, the former abattoirs of which have made way for a cultural centre (Cité de la Musique), a concert hall (Zénith) and the impressive Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie and its museums.

PARC DE LA VILLETTE Map

01 04 03 75 75; www.villette.com, in French; Porte de la Villette or Porte de Pantin

This large park in the city’s far northeastern corner, which opened in 1993, stretches from the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie (below) southwards to the Cité de la Musique (opposite). Divided into two sections by the Canal de l’Ourcq, the park is enlivened by shaded walkways, imaginative street furniture, a series of themed gardens and fanciful, bright-red pavilions known as folies. At 35 hectares it is the largest open green space in central Paris and has been called ‘the prototype of the urban park of the 21st century’.

Of the 10 themed gardens/playgrounds for kids, the best are the Jardin du Dragon (Dragon Garden), with an enormous dragon slide between the Géode and the nearest bridge, and the Jardin des Dunes (Dunes Garden) and Jardin des Miroirs (Mirror Gardens), which are across Galerie de la Villette (the covered walkway) from the Grande Halle, a wonderful old abattoir of wrought iron and glass now used for concerts, theatre performances, expos and conventions.

CITÉ DES SCIENCES ET DE L’INDUSTRIE Map

01 40 05 80 00, reservations 08 92 69 70 72; www.cite-sciences.fr; 30 av Corentin Cariou, 19e; 10am-6pm Tue-Sat, to 7pm Sun; Porte de la Villette

The enormous City of Science and Industry, at the northern end of Parc de la Villette, has all sorts of hi-tech exhibits that are particularly well suited for children. You could easily spend a day here with the kids in tow.

Free attractions include the Carrefour Numérique (level -1; noon-7.45pm Tue, to 6.45pm Wed-Sun) internet centre; Médiathèque (levels 0 & -1; noon-7.45pm Tue, to 6.45pm Wed-Sun), with multimedia exhibits dealing with childhood, the history of science and health; Cité des Métiers (level -1; 10am-6pm Tue-Fri, noon-6pm Sat), with information about trades, professions and employment; and a small Aquarium (level -2; 10am-6pm Tue-Sat, to 7pm Sun).

A free and extremely useful map/brochure (in English) called The Keys to the Cité is available from the circular information counter at the main entrance to the complex.

The huge, rather confusingly laid-out Explora (levels 1 & 2; adult/7-25yr €8/6, with Planetarium €11/9, under 7yr free), the heart of the exhibitions at the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie, looks at everything from space exploration and automobile technology to genetics and sound. Tickets are valid for a full day and allow you to enter and exit at will.


TRANSPORT: LA VILLETTE
Bus Porte de la Villette for 75 to Buttes-Chaumont, Canal St-Martin, République, Centre Pompidou, Marais, rue des Archives, Hôtel de Ville & Châtelet

Metro Botzaris, Buttes-Chaumont, Porte de Pantin, Porte de la Villette

Boat Canauxrama Bassin de la Villette stop (13 quai de la Loire) for canal boat to Port de Plaisance de Paris-Arsenal (12e) south of place de la Bastille & Paris Canal Croisières stop (19–21 quai de la Loire) for boat to quai Anatole France (7e) near the Musée d’Orsay

The Planétarium (level 1; 11am-4pm Tue-Fri, to 5pm Sat & Sun) has six shows a day on the hour (except at 1pm) on a screen measuring 1000 sq metres. Children under three are not admitted.

The highlight of the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie is the brilliant Cité des Enfants (Children’s Village; level 0), with imaginative, hands-on demonstrations of basic scientific principles in two sections: for two- to seven-year-olds, and for five- to 12-year-olds. In the first, kids can explore, among other things, the conduct of water (waterproof ponchos provided), a building site and a maze. The second allows children to build toy houses with industrial robots, and stage news broadcasts in a TV studio; this being Paris a very popular and successful exhibition in 2008 was one called Zizi Sexual – love and sex explained to pre-teens. A third section has a special exhibition called Ombres et Lumières (Shadows and Light) devoted largely to the five-to-12 age group.

Visits to Cité des Enfants lasting 1½ hours begin four times a day: at 9.45am, 11.30am, 1.30pm and 3.15pm on Tuesday to Friday and at 10.30am, 12.30pm, 2.30pm and 4.30pm on Saturday and Sunday. Each child (€6) must be accompanied by an adult (maximum two per family). During school holidays, book two or three days in advance by phone or via the internet.

The Cinaxe ( 01 42 09 85 83, reservations 01 40 05 12 12; admission €5.40, if holding another ticket to Cité des Sciences €4.80; screenings 11am-12.45pm & 2-5pm Tue-Sun), a cinema with hydraulic seating for 60 people, moves in synchronisation with the action on the screen. It’s across the walkway from the southwestern side of the Cité des Sciences. Shows begin every 15 minutes.

The Géode ( 01 40 05 79 99, reservations 08 92 68 45 40; www.lageode.fr in French; 26 av Corentin Cariou; 19e, adult/senior & 3-25yr €9/5.50, 3-D film €11.50/9.50; 10.30am-6.30pm Tue-Sat, to 8.30pm Sun) is a 36m-high sphere with a mirrorlike surface of thousands of polished, stainless-steel triangles, and is one of Paris’ architectural calling cards. Inside, high-resolution, 70mm films (45 minutes each) on topics such as virtual reality, special effects and nature are projected onto a 180-degree screen to surround you with the action. Headsets for an English soundtrack are available for free. Reach the Géode via level 0 of the Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie.

The Argonaute (admission €3, under 7yr free; 10am-5.30pm Tue-Sat, to 7pm Sun), a French Navy submarine commissioned in 1957 and dry-docked in the park in 1989, is just southeast of the Géode. The Argonaute is also accessible from level 0. It’s open to children aged three and up.

CITÉ DE LA MUSIQUE Map

01 44 84 44 84; www.cite-musique.fr; 221 av Jean Jaurès, 19e; noon-6pm Tue-Sat, 10am-6pm Sun; Porte de Pantin

The City of Music, on the southern edge of Parc de la Villette, is a striking, triangular-shaped concert hall whose mission is to bring nonelitist music from around the world to Paris’ multiethnic listeners. (For information on concerts and other musical events, Click here.) Next door is the prestigious Conservatoire National Supérieur de Musique et de Danse (National Higher Conservatory of Music & Dance; 01 40 40 45 45; www.cnsmdp.fr; 209 av Jean Jaurès, 19e; Porte de Pantin), featuring concerts and dance performances.

The Musée de la Musique (Music Museum; 01 44 84 44 84; adult/senior, student & 18-25yr €7/3.40, under 18yr free; noon-6pm Tue-Sat, 10am-6pm Sun) in the Cité de la Musique displays some 900 rare musical instruments (from a warehoused collection of 4500); you can hear many of them being played through the earphones included in the admission cost. The museum’s Médiathèque ( 01 44 84 89 45; noon-6pm Tue-Sat) can answer your music questions via the internet; it has terminals with hundreds of music-related sites.

PARC DES BUTTES-CHAUMONT Map

rue Manin & rue Botzaris, 19e; 7.30am-11pm May-Sep, to 9pm Oct-Apr; Buttes- Chaumont or Botzaris

Encircled by tall apartment blocks, the 25-hectare Buttes-Chaumont Park is the closest thing in Paris to Manhattan’s Central Park. The park’s forested slopes hide grottoes and artificial waterfalls, and the lake is dominated by a temple-topped island linked to the mainland by two footbridges. Once a quarry and rubbish tip, the park was given its present form by Baron Haussmann in time for the opening of the 1867 Exposition Universelle.

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BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS

Eating; Shopping

Several places just ‘outside the walls’ of central Paris are worth a visit. To the southeast and the southwest are the ‘lungs’ of Paris, the Bois de Vincennes and the Bois de Boulogne, both important recreational areas. The modern cityscape of La Défense, a mere 20 minutes away at the end of metro line 1 or RER line A, is so different from the rest of centuries-old Paris that it’s worth a visit to put it all in perspective. To the north on metro line 13 is St-Denis, France’s royal resting place and the site of an impressive medieval basilica.

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BOIS DE VINCENNES & SURROUNDS

The ‘Vincennes Wood’ embraces 995 hectares in the southeastern corner of Paris, most just outside the blvd Périphérique (ring road).

AQUARIUM TROPICAL Map

01 53 59 58 60; www.palais-portedoree.org, in French; Palais de la Porte Dorée, 293 av Daumesnil, 12e; adult/4-25yr €5.70/4.20; 10am-5.15pm Tue-Fri, to 7pm Sat & Sun; Porte Dorée

Fish and sea creatures from around the globe swim in tanks spread throughout a dozen rooms at the Tropical Aquarium, on the western edge of Bois de Vincennes. It was established in 1931 in one of the few buildings left from the Exposition Coloniale of that year; a compelling immigration museum (right) is also here.

BOIS DE VINCENNES Map

blvd Poniatowski, 12e; Porte de Charenton or Porte Dorée

On the wood’s northern edge, Château de Vincennes (Palace of Vincennes; 01 48 08 31 20; www.chateau-vincennes.fr; av de Paris, 12e; 10am-6pm May-Aug, to 5pm Sep-Apr; Château de Vincennes) is a bona fide royal chateau with massive fortifications and a moat. The chateau grounds can be strolled for free, but the 52m-high dungeon (1369), a prison during the 17th and 18th centuries, and the Gothic Chapelle Royale (Royal Chapel) can only be visited by guided tour (adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €7.50/4.80/free); call ahead for tour times.


TRANSPORT: BOIS DE VINCENNES & SURROUNDS
Bus Château de Vincennes for 46 to rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, place Voltaire, av Parmentier, Gare de l’Est & Gare du Nord, for 56 to place de la Nation, place de la République, Gare de l’Est, Barbès, Porte de Clignancourt

Metro Château de Vincennes, Porte de Charenton, Porte Dorée

South of the Château de Vincennes is the Parc Floral de Paris ( 01 49 57 24 84; www.parcfloraldeparis.com; rte du Champ de Manoeuvre, 12e; adult/7-18yr €3/1.50; 9.30am-5pm to 8pm seasonal; Château de Vincennes), a vast green floral area with a butterfly garden, nature library and kids’ play areas; it’s host to some quite magical open-air concerts in summer. At its eastern edge, the Jardin d’Agronomie Tropicale (Garden of Tropical Agronomy; 01 43 94 73 33; 45bis av de la Belle Gabrielle; 11.30am-5.30pm Sat & Sun; Nogent-sur-Marne) is a vestige of the 1907 Exposition Coloniale.

Some 600 animals call the 15-hectare Parc Zoologique de Paris ( 01 44 75 20 10; www.mnhn.fr; 53 av de St-Maurice, 12e; adult/under 4yr €5/free; 9am-5pm or 6.30pm seasonal; Porte Dorée), also known as the Zoo de Vincennes, home.

CITÉ NATIONALE DE L’HISTOIRE DE L’IMMIGRATION Map

01 53 59 58 60; www.histoire-immigration.fr, in French; Palais de la Porte Dorée, 293 av Daumesnil, 12e; adult/18-26yr/under 18yr during exhibitions periods €5.50/3.50/free, non-exhibition periods €3/2/free; 10am-5.30pm Tue-Fri, to 7pm Sat & Sun; Porte Dorée

The National City of the History of Immigration, in the same building as the Aquarium Tropical (left), is not a museum to visit for a spot of light relief. A heavyweight, it documents the hot-potato topic of immigration to France through a series of informative historical displays, some more objective than others: many of the artworks portraying contemporary immigrant life are pretty emotive – take the video projections dealing with the Algerian family in Paris that has not seen its relatives in Algeria for 16 years, or the installation portraying life in a Parisian immigrant workers’ dorm (for those interested, www.mahophoto.com has a great photo story on this).

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BOIS DE BOULOGNE & SURROUNDS

The 845-hectare Boulogne Wood owes its informal layout to Baron Haussmann, who, inspired by London’s Hyde Park, planted 400,000 trees here. Along with various gardens and other sights, the wood has 15km of cycle paths and 28km of bridle paths through 125 hectares of forested land. Be warned that the Bois de Boulogne becomes a distinctly adult playground after dark, especially along the Allée de Longchamp running northeast from the Étang des Réservoirs (Reservoirs Pond), where all kinds of prostitutes cruise for clients.

BOIS DE BOULOGNE Map

blvd Maillot, 16e; Porte Maillot or Pont de Neuilly

The wood’s enclosed Parc de Bagatelle ( 3975; 9.30am-5pm to 8pm seasonal), in the northwestern corner, is renowned for its beautiful gardens surrounding the Château de Bagatelle ( 01 40 67 97 00; route de Sèvres à Neuilly, 16e; adult/student & 7-18yr €3/1.50, under 7yr free; 9am-6pm Apr-Sep, to 5pm Oct-Mar), built in 1775. There are areas dedicated to irises (which bloom in May), roses (June to October) and water lilies (August). The Pré Catalan (Catalan Meadow; 9.30am-5-8pm seasonal) to the southeast includes the Jardin Shakespeare, in which plants, flowers and trees mentioned in Shakespeare’s plays are cultivated. Exhibitions, flower shows or other events in the park and gardens cost adult/concession €3/1.50.


TRANSPORT: BOIS DE BOULOGNE & SURROUNDS
Bus Porte d’Auteuil for 32 through the 16e arrondissement to av des Champs-Élysées, av Matignon, Trinité & Gare de l’Est; Porte Maillot for 73 to place de l’Étoile, av des Champs-Élysées, place de la Concorde & Musée d’Orsay

Metro & RER Av Foch, Pont de Neuilly, Porte d’Auteuil, Porte Dauphine, Porte Maillot

Located at the southeastern end of the Bois de Boulogne is the Jardin des Serres d’Auteuil ( 01 40 71 75 23; av de la Porte d’Auteuil, 16e; 9.30am-5pm to 8pm seasonal; Porte d’Auteuil), a garden with impressive conservatories that opened in 1898.

The 20-hectare Jardin d’Acclimatation ( 01 40 67 90 82; av du Mahatma Gandhi; adult/3-18yr €2.70/1.35, under 3yr free; 10am-7pm Jun-Sep, to 6pm Oct-May; Les Sablons), a kids-oriented amusement park whose name is another word for ‘zoo’ in French, includes the hi-tech Exploradôme ( 01 53 64 90 40; www.exploradome.com, in French; adult/4-18yr €5/3.50, under 4yr free), a tented structure devoted to science and the media.

The southern part of the wood takes in two horse-racing tracks, the Hippodrome de Longchamp for flat races and, for steeplechases, the Hippodrome d’Auteuil, as well as the Stade Roland Garros, home of the French Open tennis tournament Click here. Also here is the Tenniseum-Musée de Roland Garros ( 01 47 43 48 48; www.rolandgarros.com; 2 av Gordon Bennett, 16e; adult/under 18yr €7.5/4, with stadium visit €15/10; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun; Porte d’Auteuil), the world’s most extravagant tennis museum, tracing the sport’s 500-year history through paintings, sculptures and posters. Visitors to the museum can watch at least 200 hours of play from 1897 till today, including all of the French Open’s men’s singles matches since 1990 and interviews with all major players. Tours of the stadium take place at 11am in English and at 2.30pm and 4.30pm in French.

Rowing boats ( 01 42 88 04 69; per hr €10; 10am-6pm mid-Mar–mid-Oct) can be hired at Lac Inférieur (metro Av Henri Martin), the largest of the wood’s lakes and ponds. They sometimes open at the weekend in winter. Paris Cycles ( 01 47 47 76 50; per hr €5; 10am-7pm mid-Apr–mid-Oct) hires out bicycles at two locations in the Bois de Boulogne: on av du Mahatma Gandhi (metro Les Sablons), across from the Porte Sablons entrance to the Jardin d’Acclimatation amusement park, and near the Pavillon Royal (metro Av Foch) at the northern end of Lac Inférieur.

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LA DÉFENSE

It was one of the world’s most ambitious civil-engineering projects when development of Paris’ skyscraper business district, west of the 17e arrondissement, began in the 1950s. Today La Défense counts over 100 buildings, headquarters three-quarters of France’s largest 20 corporations and showcases extraordinary monumental art (Click here). By day more than 150,000 city-dwellers – mainly suits and execs – transform the oversized, nocturnal ghost town into a hive of high-flying urban activity; 20,000 people live here.

Architecture buffs will have a field day. First-generation buildings like the Centre des Nouvelles Industries et Technologies (Centre for New Industries & Technologies) – a giant ‘pregnant oyster’ inaugurated in 1958, extensively rebuilt 30 years later and revamped in 2008 as a shopping centre – feel tired. But later generations still excite: the 187m-high Total Coupole (1985) shimmers metallic blue and silver as its rises 48 floors up to the sky. The twin towers of the 161m-tall Cœur Défense (Défense Heart) stand over a light-filled atrium bigger than Notre Dame’s nave. Diagonally opposite, the elongated, oval-shaped Tour EDF (2001) – a triumphal solution to a relatively small space and as attractive a steel-and-glass skyscraper as you’ll find – almost undulates in the breeze that forever whips across place de la Défense. New for 2008 is Tour T1, a 185m-high sail in glass, and Société General’s Tour Granite, which post–September 11 was scaled down from 230m to 183m.


WHAT’S IN A NAME
Skyscraper-camouflaged military installations, subterranean bunkers and a different James Bond gadget embedded in every mirrored window…forget it. There’s nothing militaristic about La Défense except its name, derived from a simple sculpture: La Défense de Paris was erected on place de la Défense in 1883 to commemorate the defence of Paris during the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71.


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BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS
 

Sky-high future creations throw caution to the wind: the Tour Air 2 (2012), a demolition-reconstruction job of the stubbier 1970s Tour Aurore on place des Reflets will measure 220m; the currently drab Tour AXA (1974) will hit 225m on the height chart and be rechristened Tour CB31 in 2010. American architect Thom Mayne’s Tour Phare (2012) will resemble a coiled sheet of woven metal and stand a record-breaking 300m tall, as will the Tour Generali (2012) which should practically tickle the clouds with its cluster of spiky spires. Most ground-breaking of all will be the 300m-tall Tour Signal (2012; www.tour-signal-ladefense.com), a project commissioned as a symbol of the area’s third-millennium renaissance.

Reach La Défense by taking metro line 1 to the terminus (La Défense Grande Arche). RER Line A also serves that station; La Défense is in zone 3.

GARDENS & MONUMENTS Map

Le Parvis, place de la Défense & Esplanade du Général de Gaulle; La Défense Grande Arche or Esplanade de la Défense

The Parvis, place de la Défense and Esplanade du Général de Gaulle – a pleasant 1km walkway – is an open-air contemporary art gallery. Calder, Miró, Agam, César and Torricini are among the international artists behind the colourful and often surprising sculptures and murals on Voie des Sculptures (Sculptures Way), the Quartier du Parc (Park District) west of the Grande Arche and Jardins de l’Arche, a 2km-long extension of the Axe Historique. Meandering around this skyscraper district in search of these works of art (see opposite) is fun.


TRANSPORT: LA DÉFENSE
Bus 73 from Musée d’Orsay, place de la Concorde or Charles de Gaulle-Étoile

Metro Line No 1 to La Défense Grande Arche (terminus)

RER Line A (station: La Défense Grande Arche); if you take the faster RER, remember that La Défense is in zone three and you must pay a supplement (€1.95) if you are carrying a travel pass for zones 1 and 2 only

GRANDE ARCHE DE LA DÉFENSE Map

01 49 07 27 27; www.grandearche.com; 1 Parvis de la Défense; adult/6-17yr/under 6yr €9/7.50/free, family pass €22, 10am-8pm Apr-Sep, to 7pm Oct-Mar; La Défense Grande Arche

La Défense’s draw card is the Grande Arche (Great Arch) – a remarkable, cube-like structure, 110m square, of white Carrara marble, grey granite and glass. It’s constructed out of 3600 prefabricated cases, each 2.8m square and 800g in weight, and the entire construction rests on a dozen 30m-tall underground pillars. Scale the cigarettebutt–littered steps to the foot of this incredible arch for free and ponder its meaning as ‘a window to the world, a symbol of hope for the future; that all men can meet freely’. Or pay to travel 1.6m per second to the ‘roof’ on the 35th floor, where temporary art exhibitions hang out alongside scaled models of the arch, a video showing its construction, a ticky-tacky souvenir shop and a soulless restaurant which, incredibly, boasts no view (avoid).

Most interesting is the outlook from the roof terrace over the 8km-long Axe Historique (Historic Axis), begun in 1640 by André Le Nôtre of Versailles fame and stretching from the Louvre’s glass pyramid, along av des Champs-Élysées to the Arc de Triomphe, Porte Maillot and finally the Esplanade du Général de Gaulle. The Grande Arche, home to government and business offices, marks the western end of this axis, although its maker, Danish architect Johan-Otto von Sprekelsen, deliberately placed the arch fractionally out of alignment with the Axe Historique (who wants perfection?!).

ÉGLISE NOTRE DAME DE LA PENTECÔTE Map

01 47 75 83 25; http://catholiques.aladefense.cef.fr, in French; 1 place de la Défense; 8am-6.30pm Mon-Fri; La Défense Grande Arche

When the crowds of suits gets you down, head for the futuristic Our Lady of the Pentecost Catholic Church and its sublime interior. Check out the flame-shaped pulpit, the image of the Virgin Mary that looks uncannily like the Buddha, and the individual chairs that unfold to create benches.

MUSÉE DE LA DÉFENSE Map

01 47 74 84 24; www.ladefense.fr; 15 place de la Défense; admission free; 9am-5.15pm Mon-Fri; La Défense Grande Arche

A trip to this space located just below the Espace-Info information centre is a real highlight. Drawings, architectural plans and scale models trace the development of the district from the 17th century to the present day. Especially fascinating are the projects that were never built: the 750m-tall Tour Tourisme TV (1961) by the Polak brothers; Hungarian-born artist Nicholas Schöffer’s unspeakable Tour Lumière Cybernetique (1965), a ‘Cybernetic Light Tower’ that, at 324m, would stand at the same height as the Eiffel Tower; and the Tour sans Fin, a ‘Never-Ending Tower’ that would be 425m high, but just 39m in diameter. Ouch.


A WORK OF ART
La Défense is not only about architecture. A 12m-high thumb, an antique giant, a chunk of the Berlin Wall and a serpent that snakes underground with kids inside are among the many larger-than-life artworks that loiter between skyscrapers. Grab a copy of the illustrated Guide to Works of Art (€2.50) from La Défense’s information office and hunt for art. Or stroll ‘blind’ and see what new treasures you find; a few more appear each year.
 
  • The Esplanade Fountain (1975). Also called Bassin Agam or Fontaine Agam after its Palestinian kinetic-art creator, Yaacov Agam, this is actually a colourful, 86m-long pool tiled with Venetian mosaics and pierced by 66 fountains that dance to music at certain times of day (5pm to 7pm Sunday to Friday, to 8.30pm Friday and Saturday). Find it behind the tourist office.
  • Calder’s Spider (1974). It looks like a spider no one in their right mind would want to meet. Giant-sized and ferocious red, it struts its leggy stuff on place de la Défense.
  • Vegetal Wall (2006). A mini version of the vertical garden that blooms on the Musée du Quai Branly, this living wall of green shares the same creator, budding Parisian botanical artist Patrick Blanc. Find it next to the Porte du Parvis entrance of the Centre Commercial des Quatre Temps.
  • The Lampshade (2006). Step inside the shopping centre through Porte du Parvis to see this fabulous light-sculpture hanging from the ceiling. Kiko Lopez crafted it from thousands of Swarovski crystals.
  • The Thumb (1994). The 12m-tall bronze thumb that gives the thumbs-up on place Carpeaux is not any old thumb. Its maker, Marseille-born César, made it from a cast of his own. Left or right?
  • Le Moretti (1990). Candy-striped with myriad reds, blues, yellows (19 colours in total), this industrial, 32m-tall ventilation shaft on place de l’Iris is one of several shafts in La Défense to be transformed as art. Nice-born Taymond Moretti (1931–2005) did it using 672 fibre-glass tubes. Lit at night, it’s inspirational.
  • Takis’ Pool (1987). Plump on that historic axis is this large pool of water studded with 49 multi-coloured lights strung atop spiral metal poles of varying heights. The crystal-clear reflection of the surrounding buildings in the water is a quintessential photo-op.
  • The Four Heads (2002). London artist Emily Young, one of several artists whose works mingle with skyscrapers in the Triangle de l’Arche district of La Défense, ranks among Britain’s top female sculptors. Masculine stone heads are what you’re looking for.
  • After Olympia (1986–87) Olympia’s Greek temple’s ornamental façade is the inspiration behind the 23m-long heap of rusted painted steel on av de la Division Leclerc. The work of English sculptor Anthony Caro, its reflections in the glassy buildings around it are as much a work of art as the work itself.
  • Miró figures (1976). Ridiculing the strict symmetry of the surrounding blocks is this comic pair of bright blue, yellow and red figures in front of the Centre Commerical des Quatre Temp. In keeping with the oversized scale of things in La Défense, the Catalan surrealist’s figures stand 11m and 12m tall.

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ST-DENIS

Today just a suburb north of Paris’ 18e arrondissement with a very mixed population, St-Denis was for some 1200 years the burial place of the kings of France. The ornate royal tombs, adorned with some truly remarkable statuary, and the Basilique de St-Denis (the world’s first major Gothic structure) containing them are worth a visit and the town is easily accessible by metro in just 20 minutes or so. St-Denis also boasts the Stade de France, the futuristic stadium just south of the Canal de St-Denis where France beat Brazil to win the World Cup at home in 1998.

BASILIQUE DE ST-DENIS Map

01 48 09 83 54; www.monuments-nationaux.fr; 1 rue de la Légion d’Honneur; tombs adult/senior, student & 18-25yr €6.50/4.50, under 18yr free, 1st Sun of the month Nov-Mar free, basilica admission free; 10am-6pm Mon-Sat, noon-6pm Sun Apr-Sep, 10am-5pm Mon-Sat, noon-5pm Sun Oct-Mar; Basilique de St-Denis

St-Denis Basilica was the burial place for all but a handful of France’s kings and queens from Dagobert I (r 629–39) to Louis XVIII (r 1814–24), constituting one of Europe’s most important collections of funerary sculpture; today the remains of 43 kings and 32 queens repose here. The single-towered basilica, begun around 1136, was the first major structure to be built in the Gothic style, serving as a model for other 12th-century French cathedrals, including the one at Chartres. Features illustrating the transition from Romanesque to Gothic can be seen in the choir and double ambulatory, which are adorned with a number of 12th-century stained-glass windows. The narthex (the portico running along the western end of the basilica) also dates from this period. The nave and transept were built in the 13th century.


TRANSPORT: ST-DENIS
Metro Line 13 to Basilique de St-Denis station for the basilica and tourist office, to St-Denis-Porte de Paris station for the Musée d’Art et d’Histoire and the Stade de France (make sure to board a train heading for St-Denis Université, not for Gabriel Péri Asnières-Gennevilliers-Courtilles, as the line splits at La Fourche station)

RER Line B (station: La Plaine-Stade de France) for the Stade de France

Tram Line T1 links Bobigny Pablo Picasso station, the terminus of metro line 5, with Basilique de St-Denis station

During the Revolution and the Reign of Terror, the basilica was devastated; remains from the royal tombs were dumped into two big pits outside the church. The mausoleums were put into storage in Paris, however, and survived. They were brought back in 1816, and the royal bones were reburied in the crypt a year later. Restoration of the structure was begun under Napoleon, but most of the work was carried out by the Gothic Revivalist architect Eugène Viollet-le-Duc from 1858 until his death in 1879. The tombs in the crypt are decorated with life-sized figures of the deceased. Those built before the Renaissance are adorned with gisants (recumbent figures). Those made after 1285 were carved from death masks and are thus fairly, well, lifelike; the 14 figures commissioned under Louis IX (St Louis; r 1214–70) are depictions of how earlier rulers might have looked. The oldest tombs (from around 1230) are those of Clovis I (d 511) and his son Childebert I (d 558). On no account should you miss the white marble catafalque tomb of Louis XII and Anne of Bretagne that dates from 1597. If you look carefully you’ll see graffiti etched on the arms of the seated figures dating from the early 17th century. The Bourbon sepulchral vault contains the remains of Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette but not of the king’s younger brother Charles X; there’s a tomb, but his bones lie in a church in Nova Gorica in Slovenia.

Self-paced 1¼-hour audioguide tours of the basilica and tombs cost €4 (€6.50 for two sharing), available at the crypt ticket kiosk.

MUSÉE D’ART ET D’HISTOIRE Map

01 42 43 05 10; www.musee-saint-denis.fr, in French; 22bis rue Gabriel Péri; adult/student, senior & everyone on Sun €5/3, under 16yr free, 1st Sun of the month free; 10am-5.30pm Mon, Wed & Fri, to 8pm Thu, 2-6.30pm Sat & Sun; St-Denis-Porte de Paris

To the southwest of the basilica is the Museum of Art and History, housed in a restored Carmelite convent founded in 1625 and later presided over by Louise de France, the youngest daughter of Louis XV. Displays include reconstructions of the Carmelites’ cells, an 18th-century apothecary and, in the archaeology section, items found during excavations around the St Denis Basilica. There’s a section on modern art, with a collection of work bya local son, the surrealist artist Paul Éluard (1895–1952), as well as an important collection of politically charged posters, cartoons, lithographs and paintings from the 1871 Paris Commune.

STADE DE FRANCE Map

08 92 70 09 00; www.stadefrance.com; rue Francis de Pressensé, ZAC du Cornillon Nord, 93216 St-Denis la Plaine; adult/student & 6-11yr €10/8, family pass €29, under 6yr free; tours on the hour in French 10am-5pm daily Apr-Aug, 4 to 5 daily Sep-Mar, in English 10.30am & 2.30pm Apr-Aug; St-Denis-Porte de Paris

The 80,000-seat Stadium of France, just south of central St-Denis and in full view from rue Gabriel Péri, was built for the 1998 football World Cup, which France won by miraculously defeating Brazil 3–0. The futuristic and quite beautiful structure, with a roof the size of place de la Concorde, is used for football and rugby matches, major gymnastic events and big-ticket music concerts. It can be visited on guided tours only.

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MONTMARTRE ART ATTACK

Montmartre (from the French words mont for hill and martyr) has been a place of legend ever since St Denis was executed here c AD 250 and began his headless journey on foot to the village north of Paris that still bears his name Click here. In recent times the Montmartre of myth has been resurrected by music, books and especially films such as Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amélie Poulain (Amelie in English; 2002), which presented the district in various shades of rose, and Moulin Rouge (2001), which also made it pretty but gave it a bit more edge.

For centuries Montmartre was a simple country village filled with the moulins (mills) that supplied Paris with its flour. But when it was incorporated into the capital in 1860, its picturesque charm and low rents attracted painters and writers – especially after the Communard uprising of 1871 (Click here), which began here. The late 19th and early 20th centuries were Montmartre’s heyday, when Toulouse-Lautrec drew his favourite cancan dancers and Picasso and Braque introduced the world to cubism.

After WWI such creative activity shifted to Montparnasse, but Montmartre retained an upbeat ambience that all the tourists in the world still can’t spoil. The real attractions here, apart from the great views from the Butte de Montmartre (Montmartre Hill), are the area’s little parks and steep, winding cobblestone streets, many of whose houses seem about to be engulfed by creeping vines and ivy.

In English-speaking countries, Montmartre’s mystique of unconventionality has been magnified by the supposed notoriety of places like the Moulin Rouge, a nightclub on the edge of the Pigalle district that was founded in 1889 and is known for its scantily clad – ooooh la la! – chorus girls. The garish nightlife that Toulouse-Lautrec loved to portray has spread along blvd de Clichy, and Pigalle has become decidedly sleazy, though really it’s pretty tame stuff.

1 Moulin Rouge Begin the walk at the Blanche metro station. Diagonally opposite to the left is the legendary Moulin Rouge beneath its trademark red windmill.

2 Musée de l’Érotisme Appropriately located to the right is the Musée de l’Érotisme, an institution that portrays itself as educational rather than titillating. Yeah, right.

3 Café des Deux Moulins Walk up rue Lepic, which is lined with food shops, and halfway up on the left is the Café des Deux Moulins ( 01 42 54 90 50; 15 rue Lepic, 18e; 7am-2am), where our heroine Amélie worked in the eponymous film.

4 Van Gogh’s house Follow the curve to the west; Théo Van Gogh owned the house at No 54; his brother, the artist Vincent, stayed with him on the 3rd floor for two years from 1886.

5 Moulin de la Galette Further along rue Lepic are Montmartre’s famous twinned windmills. The Moulin de la Galette, the better known, was turned into a popular open-air dance hall in the late 19th century and was immortalised by Pierre-Auguste Renoir in his 1876 tableau Le Bal du Moulin de La Galette.

6 Moulin Radet About 100m to the east, at the corner of rue Girardon, is the Moulin Radet. Confusingly, it’s now a restaurant called Le Moulin de la Galette.

7 Passe-Muraille statue Crossing through place Marcel Aymé, you’ll see a curious statue of a man emerging from a stone wall. It’s by the late actor Jean Marais and portrays Dutilleul, the hero of Marcel Aymé’s short story Le Passe-Muraille (The Walker through Walls), who awakes one fine morning to discover he can do just what he’s shown doing here.

8 Cimetière St-Vincent Turn left (north) into rue Girardon, cross through leafy square St-Buisson (Holy Bush) and past the charmingly named Allée des Brouillards (Fog Path) and descend the stairs from place Dalida into rue St-Vincent; on the other side of the wall is Cimetière St-Vincent, final resting place of the great and the good, including Maurice Utrillo (1883–1955), the so-called Painter of Montmartre.

9 Au Lapin Agile Just over rue des Saules is the celebrated cabaret Au Lapin Agile, whose name seems to suggest a nimble rabbit but actually comes from Le Lapin à Gill, a mural of a rabbit jumping out of a cooking pot by caricaturist André Gill, which can still be seen on the western exterior wall. Among the cabaret’s regulars was the poet Guillaume Apollinaire, the great proponent of cubism and futurism, who was killed in combat in 1918.


WALK FACTS
Start Metro Blanche
End Metro Abbesses
Distance 2.5km
Time Two hours
Fuel stops Il Duca, La Maison Rose

10 Close du Montmartre Turn right (south) onto rue des Saules. Just opposite is the Close du Montmartre, a small vineyard dating from 1933, whose 2000 vines produce an average of 850 bottles of wine each October. They’re auctioned off for charity in the 18e.

11 Musée de Montmartre You can buy sample bottles of the hooch at the Musée de Montmartre, which is on rue Cortot at No 12–14, the first street on the left after the vineyard. The museum is housed in Montmartre’s oldest building, a manor house built in the 17th century, and one-time home to painters Renoir, Utrillo and Raoul Dufy.

12 Eric Satie’s house The celebrated composer lived from 1892 to 1898 in the house at 6 rue Cortot.

13 Water tower At the end of rue Cortot turn right (south) onto rue du Mont Cenis (the attractive water tower just opposite dates from the early 20th century), left onto (tiny) rue de Chevalier de la Barre and then right onto rue du Cardinal Guibert.

14 Église St-Pierre de Montmartre This will lead you past the back of Église St-Pierre de Montmartre. It was built on the site of a Roman temple to Mercury and did time as a ‘Temple of Reason’ under the Revolution and as a clothing factory during the Commune.

15 Basilique du Sacré Cœur The entrance to the Basilique du Sacré Cœur and the stunning vista over Paris from the steps and the place du Parvis du Sacré Cœur are just a few paces to the south.

16 Place du Tertre From the basilica follow rue Azaïs west, past the upper station of the funicular station, and then rue St-Eleuthère north into place du Tertre – arguably the most touristy place in all of Paris but buzzy and still fun.

17 Dalí Espace Montmartre Just off the southwestern side of the square is rue Poulbot, leading to the Dalí Espace Montmartre – surprisingly the only ‘art’ museum on the Butte.

18 Bateau Lavoir From place du Calvaire take the steps – actually rue du Calvaire – into rue Gabrielle, turning right (west) to reach place Émile Goudeau. At No 11bis is the so-called Bateau Lavoir, where Kees Van Dongen, Max Jacob, Amedeo Modigliani and Pablo Picasso, who painted his seminal Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (1907) here, once lived in great poverty, in an old piano factory later used as a laundry that Jacob dubbed the ‘Laundry Boat’ because of the way it swayed in a strong breeze. Originally at No 13, the Bateau Lavoir burned down in 1970 and was rebuilt in 1978 on this spot.

19 Abbesses metro entrance Take the steps down from place Émile Goudeau and follow rue des Abbesses south into place des Abbesses, where you can’t miss the Abbesses metro entrance designed by Hector Guimard (boxed text).

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PARISIAN ROUND-THE-WORLD TOUR

And you thought it was all berets, baguettes and bistros… To be sure, Paris is and will always be français – the couturiers will continue to spin their glad rags, the boulangeries (bakeries) will churn out those long, crispy loaves and the terrace cafés will remain the places to watch the world go by. But it’s a much more international world nowadays, and Paris Mondial (World Paris), a diverse, dynamic, multicultural city, vibrates to its rhythms.

France ruled a considerable part of the world until the middle of the 20th century, and today its population includes a large number of immigrants and their descendants from its former colonies and protectorates in Africa, Indochina, the Middle East, India, the Caribbean and the South Pacific. At the same time, France has continued to accept significant numbers of exiles and refugees from around the world. Most of these immigrants have settled in specific areas of the capital, especially Belleville in the 19e and 20e, rue du Faubourg St-Denis in the 10e and La Goutte d’Or and Château Rouge in the 18e. A stroll through these quarters will have you touring the globe without even boarding an aeroplane.

1 Birthplace of Édith Piaf Begin the walk at the Pyrénées metro stop in Belleville, a district where Jewish kosher and Muslim halal butchers share the same streets with cavernous Chinese noodle shops, their windows festooned with dripping cha siu (roast pork). Walk west on rue de Belleville, past the birthplace of Édith Piaf at No 72, and turn left (south) onto rue Piat, which you will be forgiven for thinking says ‘Piaf’. Rue Piat will bring you to the Parc de Belleville which, at 200m above sea level, affords some of the best views in what is a very flat city.

2 Boulevard de Belleville Descend the steps at 27 rue Piat, which lead to the Maison de l’Air exhibition space, and follow the path downhill to the right to passage de Pékin and rue de Pali Kao to blvd de Belleville. This boulevard is a microcosm of Paris Mondial and on market mornings (Click here), you might think you’ve been transported to the Mediterranean, Africa or even Asia. At No 39 is the Mosquée Abou Bakr as Saddiq, just a few doors down from the modern Église Notre Dame Réconciliatrice, a Sri Lankan Christian church at No 57. About 100m up on the right-hand – or Tunisian – side of the street is the Synagogue Michkenot Yaachov at No 118.

3 Rue du Faubourg du Temple Walk north up blvd de Belleville and turn left (west) onto rue du Faubourg du Temple. The walk along rue du Faubourg du Temple to place de la République is a long one and you can take the metro for a couple of stops. But in doing so you’d miss the vibrancy and assorted sights: La Java at No 105, where Piaf once warbled, and the Épicerie Asie, Antilles, Afrique, which sells goods from three worlds. Once you’ve crossed the placid Canal St-Martin, the enormous place de la République, where many political rallies and demonstrations in Paris start and/or end, and its statue of the Republic (erected in 1883), pops into view.

4 Boulevard St-Martin Make your way to place de la République’s northwest corner and follow blvd St-Martin past the Porte St-Martin and the Porte St-Denis.

5 Passage Brady Turn right (north) and follow rue du Faubourg St-Denis, the main artery linking Tamil Nadu with Turkey. Passage Brady at No 46, built in 1828 and once housing 100 tiny boutiques, is now a warren of Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi cafés and restaurants and the perfect spot for a break and some refuelling. Alternatively you might pop into a Turkish çay salonu (tea house) or döner yemek ve çorba salon (kebab and soup restaurant), which offer kebabs, soup, pide (Turkish pizza, for lack of a better term) and lahmacun (thin pitta bread topped with minced meat, tomatoes, onions and fresh parsley) for a cheap and tasty snack.

6 Marché St-Quentin Turn left onto blvd de Magenta and carry on north past the 19th-century Marché St-Quentin and the Gare du Nord.

7 North African quarter The big pink sign announcing the Tati department store marks the start of La Goutte d’Or, the North African quarter called the ‘Golden Drop’ after a white wine that was produced here in the 19th century. The district is contiguous with African Château Rouge and outside the metro station you’ll most likely be presented with the calling cards of various médiums (mediums) or voyants (fortune tellers) promising to effect the return of your estranged spouse, unrequited love or misspent fortune. From the Barbès Rochechouart metro stop walk north up blvd Barbès past numerous goldsmiths with dazzling window displays. Turn east into rue de la Goutte d’Or, a great souk of a street selling everything from gaudy tea glasses and pointy-toed leather babouches (slippers) to belly dancers’ costumes. From every direction the sounds of rai (a fusion of Algerian folk music and rock) fill the air.


WALK FACTS
Start Metro Pyrénées
End Metro Château Rouge
Distance 8km
Time 3½ hours
Fuel stop Istanbul, Passage Brady

8 Villa Poissonnière A gate at 42 rue de la Goutte d’Or gives way to Villa Poissonnière, a cobbled street that looks straight out of a 19th-century daguerreotype, but it’s now locked and a sign warns that trespassers will be prosecuted. Instead carry on straight, turn right on blvd Barbès and right again onto rue des Poissonniers – the ‘Street of Fishermen’ – where you’ll find halal butchers offering special deals on sheep heads and 5kg packets of chicken but no fish. Rue Myrha on your left is the frontier between Central and West Africa and the Maghreb; rai music quickly gives way to Cameroonian bikutsi (a fusion of ancestral rhythms and fast electric guitars) and Senegalese mbalax (drum music).

9 Rue Dejean After crossing over rue Myrha, turn left (west) into rue Dejean, where an open-air market is held from 8am to 1pm on Sundays and 3.30pm to 7.30pm Tuesdays to Saturdays. Here you will find fish and lots of it, especially fresh capitaine (Nile perch) and thiof from Senegal, alongside stalls selling fiery Caribbean Scotch Bonnet chillies, plantains and the ever-popular dasheen (taro). The Château Rouge metro station is a few steps to the southwest.

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RIGHT BANK TIME PASSAGES

Stepping into the passages couverts (covered shopping arcades) of the Right Bank is the simplest way to get a feel for what life was like in early-19th-century Paris. These arcades emerged during a period of relative peace and prosperity under the restored House of Bourbon after Napoleon’s fall and the rapid growth of the new industrial classes. In a city without sewers, pavements or sheltered walkways, these arcades allowed shoppers to stroll from boutique to boutique protected from the elements and the filth and noise of the streets.

The passages quickly became some of Paris’ top attractions – visitors from the provinces made the arcades their first port of call in order to kit themselves out for the capital – and by the mid-19th century Paris counted around 150 of these sumptuously decorated temples to Mammon. As well as shopping, visitors could dine and drink, play billiards, bathe (all the passages had public baths), attend the theatre and, at night (the passages were open 24 hours a day back then), engage in activities of a carnal nature; the arcades were notorious for attracting prostitutes after dark, and there were rooms available on the 1st floor.

The demise of the passages came about for a number of reasons, but the most significant death knell was the opening of the first of the capital’s department stores, Le Bon Marché, in 1852. Today there are only two dozen arcades remaining – mostly in the 1er, 2e and 9e arrondissements – in various states of repair. This is an excellent walking tour to do on a rainy day.

1 Galerie Véro Dodat Begin the walk at the Louvre-Rivoli metro station (1er) on rue de Rivoli; go north along rue du Louvre, turn left (west) onto rue St-Honoré and then right (north) again on rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau. The entrance to the Galerie Véro Dodat, built in 1823 by two well-heeled charcutiers (butchers), is at No 19. The arcade retains its 19th-century skylights, ceiling murals, Corinthian columns, tiled floor, gas globe fittings (though now electric, of course) and shop fronts, among the most interesting of which include the Luthier music store, with guitars, violins, banjos and ukuleles, at No 17 and the Marini France stained-glass workshop at No 28.

2 Galeries du Palais Royal The gallery’s western exit leads to rue du Bouloi and rue Croix des Petits Champs. Head north on the latter to the corner of rue du Colonel Driant – the massive building ahead of you is the headquarters of the Banque de France – and turn left (west) and walk to rue de Valois. At No 5 is one of the entrances to the Galeries du Palais Royal. Strictly speaking, these galleries are not passages as they are arcaded rather than covered, but since they date from 1786 they are considered to be the prototypes of what was to come.

3 Galerie de Montpensier The Café de Foy, from where the Revolution broke out on a warm mid-July day just three years after the galleries opened, once stood on the western side of the Galeries du Palais Royal, at what is today’s Galerie de Montpensier. Galerie de Montpensier has several traditional shops, including A Bacqueville at No 6–8, with Légion d’Honneur–style medals and ribbons, and Didier Ludot at No 20–24, with exquisite antique clothes.

4 Galerie de Valois This passage on the eastern side, where Charlotte Corday, Jean-Paul Marat’s assassin, once worked in a shop, is more upmarket, with posh galleries and designer shops such as an outlet of Hong Kong–based boutique Joyce at shop No 168–173. Other shops worth a peek include Didier Ludot’s La Petite Robe Noire boutique at No 125 and the graveur héraldiste (coat of arms engraver) Guillaumot, which has been printing family coats-of-arms at Nos 151 to 154 since 1785.

5 Passage du Perron The tiny arcade that doglegs from the north of the Galeries du Palais Royal into rue de Beaujolais is passage du Perron; the writer Colette (1873–1954) lived out the last years of her life in a flat above here (9 rue de Beaujolais), from which she wrote Paris de Ma Fenêtre (Paris from My Window), her description of the German occupation of Paris.

6 Galerie Vivienne Diagonally opposite from where you exit from Passage du Perron at 4 rue des Petits Champs are the entrances to two of the most stunningly restored passages in Paris. Galerie Vivienne, built in 1823 and decorated with bas-reliefs of snakes (signifying prudence), anchors (hope) and beehives (industry), as well as floor mosaics, was (and still is) one of the poshest of the passages. As you enter, look to the stairwell to the left at No 13 for its false marble walls; François Eugène Vidocq (1775–1857), master burglar and later the chief of detectives in Paris in the early 19th century, lived upstairs. Some shops to check out are Legrand Fille et Fils, which sells wine and wine-related paraphernalia, at No 7–11; Wolff et Descourtis and its silk scarves at No 18; L’Atelir Emilio Robbo, one of the most beautiful flower shops in Paris, at No 29–33; the Librairie Ancienne & Moderne at No 45–46, which Colette frequented; and designer Jean-Paul Gaultier’s first boutique (main entrance at 6 rue Vivienne, 2e).

7 Galerie Colbert The major draw of the Galerie Colbert, which runs parallel to Galerie Vivienne, is its glass dome and rotunda. Built in 1826 and now part of the University of Paris system, the passage served as a car workshop and garage as recently as the early 1980s. Check out the bizarre fresco above the exit to the rue des Petits Champs; it’s completely disproportionate. Enter and exit from rue Vivienne.

8 Statue of Sartre From here head south along rue Vivienne – passing the original home of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France before it moved south, with its curiously bowed statue of Sartre in the courtyard – to rue des Petits Champs and turn right (west).


WALK FACTS
Start Metro Louvre-Rivoli
End Metro Le Peletier
Distance 3km
Time Two hours
Fuel stops Baan Boran, Café de l’Époque Click here, Café du Théâtre Click here, Le Véro Dodat

9 Passage Choiseul At 40 rue des Petits Champs is the entrance to passage Choiseul. Passage Choiseul (1828), some 45m long and containing scores of shops, is more ordinary than many of the other passages covered here but is rapidly raising its profile. Discount and secondhand clothing shops (Nos 7–9, 39–41 and 51–53), Asian fast-food shops (for example, Nos 19, 32 and 46) and secondhand bookshops (No 74–76) are getting fewer and fewer. The passage has a long literary pedigree: Paul Verlaine (1844–96) drank absinthe here and Céline (1894–1961) grew up in his mother’s shop at No 62, which now sells costume jewellery. Check out the Théâtre des Bouffes Parisiens, where comedies are performed, at No 61 (the main theatre is around the corner at 4 rue Monsigny, 2e).

10 Bourse de Commerce Leave passage Choiseul at 23 rue St-Augustin and walk eastwards to where the street meets rue du Quatre Septembre. The building across the square is the Bourse de Commerce, built in 1826. Head north and walk up rue Vivienne, and then east along rue St-Marc.

11 Passage des Panoramas The entrance to the mazelike passage des Panoramas is at 10 rue St-Marc. Built in 1800, passage des Panoramas is the oldest covered arcade in Paris and the first to be lit by gas (1817). It was expanded in 1834 with the addition of four other interconnecting passages: Feydeau, Montmartre, St-Marc and Variétés. It’s a bit faded around the edges now, but keep an eye open for Jean-Paul Belmondo’s Théâtre des Variétés at No 17, the erstwhile vaudeville Théâtre d’Offenbach, from where spectators would come out to shop during the interval, and the old engraver Stern at No 47. Exit at 11 blvd Montmartre.

12 Passage Jouffroy Directly across the road, at 10–12 blvd Montmartre, is the entrance to passage Jouffroy. Passage Jouffroy, the last major passage to open in Paris (1846) – and the first to use metal and glass in its skylights and to have central heating – remains a personal favourite; no other passage offers so much or feels so alive. There are two hotels here, including the Hôtel Chopin, as well as the Musée Grévin of wax figures. There are also some wonderful boutiques, including the bookshops Librairie du Passage (Nos 39 and 48), with lots of old postcards, and Paul Vulin (No 46–50); M&G Segas (No 34), where Toulouse-Lautrec bought his walking sticks; Brésilophile (No 40) filled with colourful rocks and minerals; and Cinedoc (Nos 45–53) with film posters, books and postcards for collectors.

13 Passage Verdeau Leave passage Jouffroy at 9 rue de la Grange Batelière, cross the road to No 6, and enter passage Verdeau, the last and most modest of this stretch of covered arcades. Verdeau wasn’t particularly successful because of its ‘end-of-the-line’ location. Still, there’s lots to explore here: Le Cabinet des Curieux (No 12) with weird and curious objects; daguerreotypes at Photo Verdeau (No 14); vintage Tintin and comic books at Librairie Roland Buret (No 6); and needlepoint at Le Bonheur des Dames (No 8). The northern exit from passage Verdeau is at 31bis rue du Faubourg Montmartre.

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MEDIEVAL MEANDERINGS IN THE MARAIS

Monks and the Knights Templar settled in the Marais as early as the 13th century, which explains the religious nature of many of its street names (eg rue du Temple, rue des Blancs Manteaux). But it wasn’t until Henri IV began construction of place Royale (now place des Vosges) in the early 17th century that the aristocracy began building the hôtels particuliers (private mansions) and pavillons (somewhat less-grand houses) so characteristic of the district. These gold- and cream-coloured brick buildings are among the most beautiful Renaissance structures in the city and, because so many were built at more or less the same time, the Marais enjoys an architectural harmony unknown elsewhere in Paris.

The golden age of the Marais’ hôtels particuliers was the 17th century, though construction continued into the first half of the 18th. The removal of the royal court – lock, stock and satin slipper – to Versailles in 1692 sounded the death knell for the Marais, and the mansions passed into the hands of commoners, who used them as warehouses, markets and shops. The quarter was given a major face-lift in the late 1960s and early ’70s, and today many of the hôtels particuliers house government offices, libraries and museums.

1 Hôtel d’Aumont Begin the tour at St-Paul metro station on rue François Miron, 4e, facing rue de Rivoli. Walk south on narrow rue du Prévôt to rue Charlemagne, once called rue des Prestres (Street of the Priests). To the right (west) on the corner of rue des Nonnains d’Hyères at 7 rue de Jouy stands the majestic Hôtel d’Aumont, built around 1650 for a financier and one of the most beautiful hôtels particuliers in the Marais. It now contains offices of the Tribunal Administratif, the body that deals with – sacré bleu! – internal disputes in the bloated and litigious French civil service.

2 Hôtel de Sens Continue south along rue des Nonnains d’Hyères, past the Hôtel d’Aumont’s geometrical gardens on the right and turn left (east) onto rue de l’Hôtel de Ville. On the left at 1 rue du Figuier is Hôtel de Sens, the oldest private mansion in the Marais. Begun around 1475, it was built as the Paris digs for the powerful archbishops of Sens, under whose authority Paris fell at the time. When Paris was made an archbishopric, the Hôtel de Sens was rented out to coach drivers, fruit sellers, a hatter and even a jam-maker. It was heavily restored in mock Gothic style (complete with turrets) in 1911; today it houses the Bibliothèque Forney (Forney Library; 01 42 78 14 60; admission free; 1-7.30pm Tue, Fri & Sat, 10am-7.30pm Wed & Thu) and its temporary exhibitions.


WALK FACTS
Start Metro St-Paul
End Hôtel de Sully (Metro St-Paul)
Distance 2km
Time 1½ hours
Fuel stops Centre Culturel Suédois Click here, Ma Bourgogne

3 Philippe-Auguste’s enceinte Continue southeast along rue de l’Ave Maria and then go northeast along rue des Jardins de St-Paul. The two truncated and crumbling towers across the basketball courts on the left are all that remain of Philippe-Auguste’s enceinte, a fortified medieval wall built around 1190 and once guarded by 39 towers. They are now part of the prestigious Lycée Charlemagne. On the opposite side of rue des Jardins de St-Paul are the entrances to Village St-Paul, a courtyard of antique shops and designer boutiques.

4 Église St-Paul St-Louis Cross over rue Charlemagne and duck into narrow rue Eginhard, a street with a tiny courtyard and a grated well built during the reign of Louis XIII. The street doglegs into rue St-Paul; at the corner above 23 rue Neuve St-Pierre, housing a bed-linen shop, are the remains of the medieval Église St-Paul. A bit further north, tiny passage St-Paul leads to the side entrance of the Église St-Paul St-Louis ( 01 42 72 30 32; 8am-8pm Mon-Sat, 9.30am-12.30pm & 4-7pm Sun), a Jesuit church completed in 1641 during the Counter-Reformation.

5 Former boulangerie-pâtisserie Rue St-Paul debouches into rue St-Antoine. Turn left, passing the front entrance of Église St-Paul St-Louis at No 99, cross over rue de Rivoli and head north up rue Malher. A former boulangerie-pâtisserie, or bakery-cake shop, at No 13 (now a clothes shop) has fine old shop signs advertising pains de seigle et gruau (rye and wheaten breads), gateaux secs (biscuits) and chaussons de pommes (apple turnovers).

6 Hôtel Lamoignon Continue north on rue Pavée (Paved Street), the first cobbled road in Paris. At No 24 stands Hôtel Lamoignon, built between 1585 and 1612 for Diane de France (1538–1619), duchess of Angoulême and legitimised daughter of Henri II. It is a fine example of late Renaissance architecture; note the Corinthian capitals in the courtyard and, above the main gate, the cherubs holding a mirror (symbolising truth) and a snake (for prudence). It now houses the Bibliothèque Historique de la Ville de Paris ( 01 44 59 29 40; 1-6pm Mon-Fri, 9.30am-6pm Sat).

7 Hôtel Carnavalet Walk north along rue Payenne. The building immediately on the right at No 2 is the back of the mid-16th-century, Renaissance-style Hôtel Carnavalet, built between 1548 and 1654 and home to the letter-writer Madame de Sévigné (1626–96).

8 Hôtel Le Peletier de St-Fargeau Further north is the Hôtel Le Peletier de St-Fargeau, which dates from the late 17th century. With the Hôtel Carnavalet, it now contains the Musée Carnavalet.

9 Chapelle de l’Humanité At 5 rue Payenne is a Chapelle de l’Humanité, a Revolutionary-era ‘Temple of Reason’; the quote on the façade reads: ‘Love as the principal, order as the base, progress as the goal’.

10 Hôtel Donon From the grille just past the Chapelle de l’Humanité, you can see the rear of Hôtel Donon at 8 rue Elzévir, built in 1598 and now the Musée Cognacq-Jay.

11 Hôtel de Marle At 11 rue Payenne is the lovely Hôtel de Marle, built in the late 16th century and now the Centre Culturel Suédois, the Swedish Cultural Institute, with a wonderful café.

12 Square George Cain Opposite Hôtel de Marle is a pretty green space called square George Cain, with the remains of what was once the Hôtel de Ville on the south wall. Have a look at the relief of Judgement Day and the one-handed clock on the tympanum (the façade beneath the roof) on the southern side.

13 Hôtel de Libéral Bruant From the square walk a short distance northwest to more spectacular 17th-century hôtels particuliers: Hôtel de Libéral Bruant at 1 rue de la Perle is now a gallery.

14 Hôtel Salé Northeast of Hôtel de Libéral Bruant is another prize example of a 17th-century hôtel particulier: Hôtel Salé at 5 rue de Thorigny, whose three floors and vaulted cellars house the wonderful Musée Picasso.

15 Rue du Parc Royal Retrace your steps to rue du Parc Royal. Heading east you’ll pass three wonderful hôtels: Hôtel de Croisille at No 12, Hôtel de Vigny at No 10 and pink-brick Hôtel Duret de Chevry at No 8, the loveliest of the trio. All of these date from about 1620 and now do civic duty as archives and historical libraries.

16 Place des Vosges Walk south down rue de Sévigné and then follow rue des Francs Bourgeois eastwards to the sublime place des Vosges, which has four symmetrical fountains and an 1829 copy of a mounted statue of Louis XIII, originally placed here in 1639. In the southeastern corner at No 6 is Hôtel de Rohan-Guéménée, home to Victor Hugo for 16 years in the first half of the 19th century and now the Maison de Victor Hugo.

17 Hôtel de Sully In the southwestern corner of place des Vosges is the back entrance to Hôtel de Sully, a restored aristocratic mansion at 62 rue St-Antoine built in 1624. Behind the hôtel are two beautifully decorated late Renaissance-style courtyards, both of which are festooned with allegorical reliefs of the seasons and the elements. In the northern courtyard look to the southern side for spring (flowers and a bird in hand) and summer (wheat); in the southern courtyard turn to the northern side for autumn (grapes) and winter, with a symbol representing both the end of the year and the end of life. On the western side of the second courtyard are ‘air’ on the left and ‘fire’ on the right. On the eastern side look for ‘earth’ on the left and ‘water’ on the right.

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LATIN QUARTER LITERARY LOOP

Writers have found their way to Paris ever since that 16th-century hedonist François Rabelais forsook his monastic vows and hightailed it to the capital. The 1920s saw the greatest influx of outsiders, particularly Americans. Many assume it was Paris’ reputation for liberal thought and relaxed morals that attracted the likes of Ernest Hemingway, F Scott Fitzgerald, Ezra Pound and so on, but that’s just part of the story. Paris was cheap, particularly the Left Bank, and in France, unlike in Prohibition-era America, you could drink alcohol to your heart’s (or liver’s) content.

1 James Joyce’s flat Begin your tour at the Cardinal Lemoine metro station, where rue du Cardinal Lemoine meets rue Monge, 5e. Walk southwest along rue du Cardinal Lemoine, peering down the passageway at No 71, which may or may not be closed off. The Irish writer James Joyce (1882–1941) lived in the courtyard flat at the back marked ‘E’ when he first arrived in Paris in 1921, and it was here that he finished editing Ulysses.

2 Ernest Hemingway’s apartment Further south at 74 rue du Cardinal Lemoine is the 3rd-floor apartment where Ernest Hemingway (1899–1961) lived with his first wife Hadley from January 1922 until August 1923. The flat figures prominently in his book of memoirs, A Moveable Feast, from which the quotation on the wall plaque (in French) is taken: ‘This is how Paris was in our youth when we were very poor and very happy.’ Just below the flat was the Bal au Printemps, a popular bal musette (dancing club), which served as the model for the one where Jake Barnes met Brett Ashley in Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises. It is now the bookshop Librairie Les Alizés (The Trade Winds; 01 43 25 20 03; 10am-12.30pm & 1.30-9pm Tue-Fri, 10am-12.30pm & 1.30-7pm Mon & Sat, 2-7pm Sun), specialising in new and secondhand books by American writers.

3 Paul Verlaine’s garret Hemingway lived on rue du Cardinal Lemoine, but he wrote in a top-floor garret of a hotel round the corner at 39 rue Descartes, the very hotel where the poet Paul Verlaine (1844–96) had died less than three decades before. The plaque, on what is now a restaurant aptly called La Maison de Verlaine, incorrectly states that Hemingway lived here from 1921 to 1925. Japanese historical novelist Kunio Tsuji lived here from 1980 to 1999.

4 Place de la Contrescarpe Rue Descartes runs south into place de la Contrescarpe, now a well-scrubbed square with four Judas trees and a fountain, but once a ‘cesspool’ (or so Hemingway said), especially the Café des Amateurs at No 2–4, which is now the popular Café Delmas. The Au Nègre Joyeux, above a small supermarket at No 12, which sports a large painting of a jolly black servant and his white master, was another popular music club in the early 20th century.

5 George Orwell’s boarding house Rue Mouffetard (from mofette, meaning ‘skunk’) runs south of place de la Contrescarpe. Turn west (right) at the first street on the right (pedestrian rue du Pot de Fer); in 1928 one Eric Blair – better known to the world as George Orwell (1903–50) – stayed in a cheap and dirty boarding house above 6 rue du Pot de Fer called the Hôtel des Trois Moineaux (Hotel of the Three Sparrows) while working as a dishwasher. He wrote all about it and the street, which he called ‘rue du Coq d’Or’ (Street of the Golden Rooster), in Down and Out in Paris and London (1933).

6 Place du Panthéon Turn north (right) onto rue Tournefort (the street where much of Balzac’s novel Père Goriot takes place) and go left into rue de l’Estrapade. From here follow Hemingway’s own directions provided in A Moveable Feast as he made his way to a favourite café in place St-Michel. Turn north (right) onto rue Clotilde and walk the length of the street – the eastern side of vast place du Panthéon no less – to the corner of rue Clovis. Just around the corner on rue Clovis is the entrance to the prestigious Lycée Henri IV; cross the road to glimpse the tip of the 13th-century (but heavily restored) Tour Clovis within the school complex; the tower is all that remains of an abbey founded by Clovis I. Opposite is the ancient Église St-Étienne du Mont.

7 Boulevard St-Michel Continue around the northern edge of place du Panthéon and walk west along rue Soufflot, past the bounty of bookshops that line both sides of the street. Turn right onto blvd St-Michel and follow it past Hôtel de Cluny, now the Musée National du Moyen Age. The cafés on place St-Michel were taken over by tourists decades ago, and Shakespeare & Company around the corner at 37 rue de la BÛcherie has nothing to do with the real bookshop of that name frequented by Hemingway, but that comes later in the tour.


WALK FACTS
Start Metro Cardinal Lemoine
End Former Dingo Bar (Metro Vavin)
Distance 7km
Time Three hours
Fuel stops Les Deux Magots or Café de Flore

8 Jack Kerouac’s hotel Follow the Seine west along quai des Grands Augustins. Hemingway used to buy books from the bouquinistes (secondhand booksellers), some of whom still line the embankment. To the south, at No 9 of tiny rue Gît le Cœur, is the Relais Hôtel du Vieux Paris, a favourite of poet Allen Ginsberg (1926–97) and Beat writer Jack Kerouac (1922–69) in the 1950s. (There’s a not-wholly-substantiated story that when Truman Capote first read Kerouac’s stream-of-consciousness On the Road he exclaimed, ‘That’s not writing – that’s typewriting!’) Ginsberg and Kerouac drank just down the road in a bar called Le Gentilhomme at 28 rue St-André des Arts, now an Irish pub called Corcoran’s.

9 Picasso’s studio Pablo Picasso (1881–1973) had his studio at 7 rue des Grands Augustins, the street that runs south from quai des Grands Augustins. Picasso lived here from 1936 to 1955 and completed his masterpiece Guernica here in 1937 – exactly a century after Balzac’s Le Chef d’Œuvre Inconnu (The Unknown Masterpiece), set in this hôtel particulier, was published.

10 Shakespeare & Company – The Original Walk south to rue St-André des Arts, follow it westwards and then turn south through Cour du Commerce Saint André, a covered passage that empties into blvd St-Germain opposite the statue of Georges Danton. At 12 rue de l’Odéon, the street running south, stood the original Shakespeare & Company bookshop, where founder-owner Sylvia Beach (1887–1962) lent books to Hemingway, and edited, retyped and published Ulysses for Joyce in 1922. The bookshop was closed during the occupation when Beach refused to sell her last copy of Joyce’s Finnegans Wake to a Nazi officer.

11 Sartre & de Beauvoir’s hang-outs Return to blvd St-Germain and walk westwards to the 11th-century Église St-Germain des Prés. Opposite is Les Deux Magots and beyond it Café de Flore, favourite hang-outs of post-war Left Bank intellectuals such as Jean-Paul Sartre (1905–80) and Simone de Beauvoir (1908–86) and good (though pricey) places to stop for a snack or a drink.

12 Henry Miller’s room From place St-Germain des Prés walk north along rue Bonaparte. In spring 1930 Henry Miller (1891–1980) stayed in a 5th-floor mansard room in Hôtel St-Germain des Prés at No 36 and later wrote about the experience in Letters to Emil (1989). The philosopher Auguste Comté (1798–1857), the founder of positivism, lived in the same building from 1818 to 1822. A few doors down at No 30 is the Bistrot Le Pré aux Clercs, another Hemingway hang-out.

13 Oscar Wilde’s hotel Continue north on rue Bonaparte and turn east onto rue des Beaux-Arts. Walk to No 13 and you’ll reach what is now L’Hôtel, the former Hôtel d’Alsace, where Oscar Wilde (b 1854) died of meningitis in 1900. But not before proclaiming, in his typical style, that he and the wallpaper of his room were ‘fighting a duel to the death’ (boxed text). The Argentine writer Jorge Luis Borges (1899–1986) also stayed in the same hotel many times in the late 1970s and early ’80s.

14 Rue Jacob This street running perpendicular to rue Bonaparte has literary associations from the sublime to the ridiculous. At No 44, Hôtel d’Angleterre is where Hemingway spent his first night in Paris (in room No 14 on 20 December 1921). A few doors down at No 56, the former Hôtel d’York is of great historic, if not literary, significance – this is where David Hartley, George III’s representative, met with Benjamin Franklin, John Adams and John Hay on 3 September 1783 to sign the treaty recognising American independence.

At 52 rue Jacob is a nondescript café called Le Comptoir des Sts-Pères, which under normal circumstances would not deserve a second glance. But this was the fashionable restaurant Michaud’s, where Hemingway stood outside watching Joyce and his family dine and, later, when he was on the inside looking out, where a memorable event may – or may not – have taken place. According to Hemingway in his A Moveable Feast, the writer F Scott Fitzgerald (1896–1940), concerned about not being able to sexually satisfy his wife, Zelda, asked Hemingway to inspect him in the café’s toilet. ‘It is not basically a question of the size in repose…’ Hemingway advised him, in what could be one of best examples of the ‘big lie’ in American literary history.

15 Église St-Sulpice Go south on rue des Saints Pères, then east on blvd St-Germain and south on rue Bonaparte. Follow it south past Église St-Sulpice, where a pivotal clue is left and a murder takes place in Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code. It eventually leads to the northwestern corner of the Jardin du Luxembourg, rue de Vaugirard and the Fontaine des Quatre Évêques (Fountain of the Four Bishops).

16 Gertrude Stein’s home After slumming it for a few years in the Latin Quarter, Hemingway and many other members of the so-called Lost Generation moved to this area. In 1925 William Faulkner (1897–1962) spent a few months at 42 rue de Vaugirard in what is now the posh Hôtel Luxembourg Parc. Hemingway spent his last few years in Paris in a rather grand flat at 6 rue Férou, within easy striking (the operative word, as they had fallen out – and big time – by then) distance of 27 rue de Fleurus, where the American novelist Gertrude Stein (1874–1946) first lived with her brother Leo, and then her lifelong companion, Alice B Toklas, for 35 years. Stein entertained such luminaries as Matisse, Picasso, Braque, Gauguin, Pound and of course the young Hemingway and Hadley, who were treated as though they were ‘very good, well-mannered and promising children’ according to the latter. It’s odd to think that this splendid belle époque block (1894) was less than 10 years old when Stein first moved here in 1903.

17 Rue Notre Dame des Champs Ezra Pound (1885–1972) lived not far away at 70bis rue Notre Dame des Champs in a flat filled with Japanese paintings and with packing crates posing as furniture, as did Katherine Anne Porter (1890–1980) in the same flat in 1934. Hemingway’s first apartment in this part of town was above a sawmill at 113 rue Notre Dames des Champs, now part of the École Alsacienne (Alsatian School) complex. Further east is La Closerie des Lilas on blvd du Montparnasse, where Hemingway often met John Dos Passos or just sat alone, contemplating the Maréchal Ney statue in front of it.

18 Literary Cafés Port Royal metro station, where you might end the tour, is just opposite. West of here and clustered around place Pablo Picasso and Vavin metro station is a couple of café-restaurants that have hosted more literary luminaries than any others in the world: Le Dôme and, as Jake Barnes puts it in The Sun Also Rises, ‘that new dive, the SelectClick here. Just off blvd Raspail at 10 rue Delambre is the former Dingo Bar, now a restaurant. It was here that Hemingway, the ambitious, middle-class kid from the Midwest, and Fitzgerald, the well-heeled, dissolute Princeton graduate, met for the first time, became friends (of sorts) and went on to change the face of American literature. For at least one of us, the erstwhile Dingo is a church.


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SHOPPING


LOUVRE & LES HALLES
MARAIS & BASTILLE
THE ISLANDS
LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES
ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
MONTPARNASSE
FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES
ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS
GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE
GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY
15E ARRONDISSEMENT
MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE
BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS



top picks
 






What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



When it comes to shopping, Paris naturally has it all: large boulevards lined with international chains, luxury avenues with designer fashion, famous grands magasins (department stores) and fabulous marchés aux puces (flea markets; Click here. But the real charm of Parisian shopping resides in a peripatetic stroll through the side streets, where tiny speciality stores and quirky boutiques selling everything from strawberry-scented Wellington boots to stainless-steel soap holders alternate with cafés, galleries and churches. These shops are what we’ve focused on in this chapter. Key areas are around the Marais in the 3e and 4e Click here, around St-Germain des Prés in the 6e Click here, and parts of Montmartre and Pigalle in the 9e and 18e Click here.

As in many capital cities, shops are spread out across different neighbourhoods, inspiring very different styles of shopping. If what the French do best – fashion (Click here) – is what you’re after, then tread the haute couture (high fashion), luxury jewellery and designer perfume boardwalks in the Étoile and Champs-Élysées Click here. For original fashion, both street and vintage (Click here)), the addictive maze of boutique shopping in the Marais and St-Germain will keep you on your toes.

For an overview of Paris fashion, department stores such as Le Bon Marché Click here in 7e and Galeries Lafayette and Printemps in the 9e provide a gentle introduction to what can be a frustratingly intimidating scene; should you not look like a millionaire, trying to raise a smile out of frosty, poker-faced staff in some designer boutiques (or indeed attracting their attention to let you in; most require you to buzz) can be disheartening. Should it be too much for you, personalised shopping tours exist; www.chicshoppingparis.com and www.chicparisienne.com are two of many.

For a rundown on Paris’ main shopping strips and streets specialising in particular products, Click here and Click here.

Shopping in Paris for fine food, wine, tea, books, stationery, art and antiques, and other collectables is particularly rewarding. For gift ideas, Click here.

Opening Hours

Opening hours are generally 10am to 7pm Monday to Saturday. Smaller shops often shut all day on Monday; on other days, their proprietors may close from noon to around 2pm for a long and lazy lunch. Many larger stores hold nocturnes (late-night shopping) on Thursday, remaining open until around 10pm. For Sunday shopping, the Champs-Élysées Click here, Montmartre, the Marais and Bastille areas are the liveliest.

Winter soldes (sales) – during which many shops extend their hours – kick off in mid-January; summer soldes start the second week of June.

Consumer Taxes & Bargaining

If you’re not an EU resident, you can get a TVA (VAT; sales tax) refund of up to 17%, provided you have spent more than €182 in any one store; Click here. Some larger department stores and ‘duty-free’ shops give discounts of 10% to foreign passport holders if asked; otherwise bargaining is reserved for flea markets.

Return to beginning of chapter

LOUVRE & LES HALLES

Though you’ll find any number of specialist boutiques selling everything from music boxes to kitchenware here, the 1e and 2e arrondissements are mostly about fashion. Indeed, the Sentier garment district has become a centre for fashion, while rue Étienne Marcel, place des Victoires and rue du Jour (beside the Église St-Eustache; Map) offer prominent labels and shoe shops. Nearby rue Montmartre and rue Tiquetonne are known for their streetwear and avant-garde designs. Les Halles itself, once the city’s food market, is now a vast underground shopping complex. It’s flanked to the east by the sleaze and sports stores of rue St-Denis, and to the south by the chain stores of rue de Rivoli. The easternmost part of the 1e around Palais Royal is far more conservative, with fancy period and label fashion.

BRENTANO’S Map    Books

01 42 61 52 50; www.brentanos.fr; 37 av de l’Opéra, 2e; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Sat, 1-7pm Sun; Opéra

Situated midway between the Louvre and Palais Garnier, this US-based chain is a good shop for tracking down American books, including fiction, business and children’s titles, as well as magazines.

WH SMITH Map    Books

01 44 77 88 99; www.whsmith.fr; 248 rue de Rivoli, 1er; 9am-7.30pm Mon-Sat, 1pm-7.30pm Sun; Concorde

This branch of the British-owned chain counts some 70,000 titles in stock, as well as a good selection of international magazines, DVDs and greetings cards. Oddly, English-speaking staff are thin on the ground here.

AGNÈS B FEMME Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 45 08 56 56; www.agnesb.com; 6 rue du Jour, 1er; 10am-7pm Mon-Fri, to 7.30pm Sat; Les Halles

Style stalwart agnès b excels in extremely durable, comfortable and sometimes quirky clothes. The foundations are excellent; the rest has somewhat lost its cachet of late. On the same street you’ll find agnès b homme (Map; 01 42 33 04 13; 3 rue du Jour, 1er) for men and agnès b enfant (Map; 01 40 39 96 88; 2 rue du Jour, 1er) for children.

ANDRÉ Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 53 40 96 84; www.andre.fr, in French; 106 rue de Rivoli, 1er; 9.30am-8pm Mon-Sat; Châtelet

This branch of a footwear chain is where ordinary (and still very stylish) Parisians buy their shoes and boots. At the same time each year André invites hot new designers to create new lines of shoes and handbags at affordable prices.

ANTOINE Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 96 01 80; www.antoine1745.com; 10 av de l’Opéra, 2e; 10am-10pm & 2-4.30pm Mon-Sat; Pyramides

Founded in 1745, Antoine is the place to come if you’re in the market for a bespoke cane, umbrella, fan or pair of gloves. It sells both new and vintage items.

BARBARA BUI Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 40 26 43 65; www.barbarabui.com; 23 rue Étienne Marcel, 2e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Étienne Marcel

Franco-Vietnamese Barbara Bui’s nearby Kabuki Femme was an instant success and she went on to open her own shops, known for their elegant modernism and beautifully cut trousers. There’s also a Marais branch (Map; 01 53 01 88 05; 43 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 4e; St-Paul), which keeps the same hours.


CLOTHING SIZES

BONPOINT Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 40 26 20 90; www.bonpoint.com; 50 rue Étienne Marcel; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Étienne Marcel

This is a timeless collection of immaculate, classic children’s clothes (from newborn to 14 years). It’s a longstanding tradition for the chic bébés of Paris to be besuited by their grannies in Bonpoint, but if you’re looking to buy into it expect to pay €90 for a pair of perfectly crafted first-time shoes.

COLETTE Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 55 35 33 90; www.colette.fr; 213 rue St-Honoré, 1er; 11am-7pm Mon-Sat; Tuileries

Not just an exquisite selection of clothes and accessories, this Japanese-inspired concept store has books, art, music and beauty products. Limited-edition sneakers, candles that smell like sex (so say staff, anyway), cutting-edge clocks – it’s worth a look even if you’re not buying. Colette’s famous sales see huge reductions on the designer stock, including Comme des Garçons, Marc Jacobs and far more. The Water Bar in the basement features still and sparkling waters from around the world.

KABUKI FEMME Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 33 55 65; www.barbarabui.com; 25 rue Étienne Marcel, 2e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Étienne Marcel

Opened some 20 years ago, this is the shop that brought Barbara Bui to world attention. Her own eponymous store is next door Click here and you’ll find Kabuki Homme (Map; 01 42 33 13 44; 21 rue Étienne Marcel, 2e) for men two doors down. In addition to Bui’s own designs you’ll find a judicious selection from other brands, including Miu Miu, Prada, Balenciaga and Stella McCartney.

KENZO Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 73 04 20 00; www.kenzo.com; 1 rue du Pont Neuf, 1er; 11.30am-7.30pm Mon, 11am-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Pont Neuf

While Kenzo himself may have retired from designing almost a decade ago, in recent years Sardinian Antonio Marras has brought a new joie de vivre to the label. The Pont Neuf flagship store, which shares the same building as the Philippe Starck–designed Kong, is spread over three floors and is a tantalising temple to fashion and beauty.

KILIWATCH Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 21 17 37; www.kiliwatch.fr, in French; 64 rue Tiquetonne, 2e; 11am-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Étienne Marcel

A Parisian institution, Kiliwatch is always packed with hip guys and gals rummaging through rack after rack of new and used streetwear and designs. There’s a startling vintage range including hats and boots, plus art/photography books, eyewear and the latest runners.

MARIA LUISA FEMME Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 47 03 96 15; 2 rue Cambon, 1er; 10.30am-7pm Mon-Sat; Concorde

Every fashionista knows this eminent selection of classic and avant-garde designers. This shop also stocks a range of swimwear. Around the corner you’ll find an accessories branch (Map; 01 47 03 48 08; 40 rue Mont Thabor, 1er) and nearby a menswear branch (Map; 01 42 60 89 83; 19bis rue Mont Thabor, 1er).

MARITHÉ & FRANÇOIS GIRBAUD Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 53 40 74 20; www.girbaud.com; 38 rue Étienne Marcel, 2e; 11am-7pm Mon, 10am-7pm Tue-Sat; Étienne Marcel

This globetrotting designer couple call themselves ‘jeanologists’, having devoted themselves to over 30 years of denim. They have four other boutiques including a Marais branch (Map; 01 44 54 99 01; 20 rue Malher, 4e; 11am-7pm Mon-Sat, 2-7pm Sun; St-Paul) and a St-Germain branch (Map; 01 53 63 53 63; 7 rue Cherche Midi, 6e; 11.30am-7.30pm Mon, 10.30am-7.30pm Tue-Sat; St-Sulpice) with its own ‘vegetation wall’ inside Click here.

SURFACE TO AIR Map     Clothing & Accessories

01 49 27 04 58; www.surface2airparis.com; 46 rue de l’Arbre Sec, 1er; 12.30pm-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Les Halles

This shop has arty books, accessories, graphic design and very edgy clothing. With an exceedingly up-to-date collection of daring local and international designs, the space also welcomes regular installations and collaborative events with artists. Its Marais branch (Map; 01 44 61 76 27; 68 rue Charlot, 3e; noon-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Filles du Calvaire) is newer and smaller.

LEGRAND FILLES & FILS Map    Food & Drink

01 42 60 07 12; www.caves-legrand.com, in French; 7-11 Galerie Vivienne, 1 rue de la Banque, 2e; 11am-7pm Mon, 10am-7.30pm Tue-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat; Pyramides

This shop in a covered arcade sells not just fine wines but all the accoutrements: corkscrews, tasting glasses, decanters etc. It also has a fancy wine bar and tasting room.

LE REPAIRE DE BACCHUS Map    Food & Drink

01 48 87 73 68; 40 rue de Bretagne, 3e; 5-8.30pm Mon, 10am-2pm & 3.30-8.30pm Tue & Wed, 10am-8.30pm Thu-Sat, 10am-1.30pm Sun; Arts et Métiers

‘The Den of Bacchus’ stocks a good selection of New World wines along with an excellent supply of French vintages, as well as cognacs, Armagnacs and whiskies.

ANNA JOLIET Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 96 55 13; www.boitesamusique-paris.com, in French; passage du Perron, 9 rue de Beaujolais, 1er; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Pyramides

This wonderful (and tiny) shop at the northern end of the Jardin du Palais Royal specialises in music boxes, both new and old, from Switzerland. Just open the door and see if you aren’t tempted in (and/or can recognise the tune).

CANICRÈCHE Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 71 59 09; www.shopcanicreche.fr, in French; 32 rue de Turbigo, 3e; 8am-8pm Mon-Sat; Arts et Métiers

And the chic chiens (dogs) of Paris? They head for this friendly boutique, which moonlights as a canine hotel, for their collars, toys, bedding and stunning little outfits.

A. SIMON Map    Household Goods

01 42 33 71 65; www.simon-a.com; 48 & 52 rue Montmartre, 2e; 1.30-6.30pm Mon, 9am-6.30pm Tue-Fri, 9.30am-6.30pm Sat; Étienne Marcel

A more modern kitchenware shop than nearby E Dehillerin (below), a. simon has more pots, pans, mixing bowls and utensils than you thought existed – anyone for a turbotiére (turbot poacher)? – in two separate shops.

E DEHILLERIN Map    Household Goods

01 42 36 53 13; www.dehillerin.com; 18-20 rue Coquillière, 1er; 9am-12.30pm & 2-6pm Mon, 9am-6pm Tue-Sat; Les Halles

Founded in 1820, this two-level shop carries an incredible selection of professional-quality matériel de cuisine (kitchenware). You’re sure to find something you desperately need, such as a coupe volaille (poultry scissors) or even a poëlon escargots (snail pan), with six or 12 – your choice – holes.

KINDAL Map    Household Goods

01 42 61 75 34; www.kindal.net; 32 av de l’Opéra, 2e; 10am-6.30pm Mon-Fri, 11am-6pm Sat; Opéra

In the market for something sharp? This coutellerie (cutlery shop) sells everything that slices and dices – from table and pocket knives to razors and Japanese swords. We even saw some stunning nail clippers on sale here.

CARROUSEL DU LOUVRE Map     Shopping Centre

01 43 16 47 10; www.carrouseldulouvre.com; 99 rue de Rivoli, 1er; 8am-11pm; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

Built around IM Pei’s inverted glass pyramid beneath the place du Carrousel, this shopping centre contains some three dozen upmarket shops ( 10am-8pm daily), more than a dozen restaurants and even the Comédie Française Studio Théâtre.

Return to beginning of chapter

MARAIS & BASTILLE

The Marais can boast some excellent speciality stores and an ever-expanding fashion presence. Note that the hip young designers are colonising the upper reaches of the 3e towards rue Charlot (Map). Meanwhile, rue des Francs Bourgeois and, towards the other side of rue de Rivoli, rue François Mirron in the 4e have well-established boutique shopping for clothing, hats, home furnishings and stationery. Place des Vosges is lined with very high-end art and antique galleries with some amazing sculpture for sale. Over towards the 11e, Bastille has some interesting shops on rue Keller (Map; young designers, records and manga/comic book shops) and rue de Charonne (clothes).

GALERIE & ATELIER PUNCINELLO Map    Art & Antiques

01 42 72 00 60; 16 rue du Parc Royal, 4e; 2-7pm Tue-Sat; St-Paul

This delightful gallery and workshop stocks masks, shields, spears and other collectables and antiques from Oceania and Southeast Asia. The items coming from the Asmat region of Irian Jaya in Indonesia are particularly fine, though expensive. The workshop can make you a socle – a stand or pedestal for your new treasure – to any specification in wood, bronze or plexiglass.

LES MOTS À LA BOUCHE Map    Books

01 42 78 88 30; www.motsbouche.com, in French; 6 rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; 11am-11pm Mon-Sat, 1-9pm Sun; Hôtel de Ville

‘On the Tip of the Tongue’ is Paris’ premier gay bookshop. Most of the left-hand side of the shop on the ground floor is devoted to English-language books, including some guides and novels. If you’re feeling naughty, go downstairs.

LIBRAIRIE DE L’HÔTEL DE SULLY Map    Books

01 44 61 21 75; 62 rue St-Antoine, 4e; 10am-7pm; St-Paul

This early-17th-century aristocratic mansion housing the Centre des Monuments Nationaux (Monum), the body responsible for many of France’s historical monuments, has one of the best bookshops in town for titles related to Paris. From historical texts and biographies to picture books and atlases, it’s all here.

RED WHEELBARROW BOOKSTORE Map    Books

01 48 04 75 08; www.theredwheelbarrow.com; 22 rue St-Paul, 4e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat, 2-6pm Sun; St-Paul

This impeccably run English-language bookshop has arguably the best selection of literature and ‘serious reading’ in Paris, and helpful, well-read staff.

ABOU D’ABI BAZAR Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 77 96 98; www.aboudabibazar.com; 10 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 3e; 2-7pm Sun & Mon, 10.30am-7.15pm Tue-Sat; St-Paul

This fashionable boutique is a treasure-trove of smart and affordable ready-to-wear pieces from young designers such as Paul & Joe, Isabel Marant, Missoni and Antik Batik. There’s also Abou d’Abi 125 (Map; 01 42 71 13 26; 125 rue Vieille du Temple, 3e; Chemin Vert), which keeps the same hours.

ALTERNATIVES Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 78 31 50; 18 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; 1-7pm Tue-Sat; St-Paul

This resale shop stocking mostly men’s high-end fashion has great bargains in superb condition. This is an excellent place to pick up Japanese designer-wear at a third of the original price. You can also come across Miu Miu, Prada, Martin Margiela, Comme des Garçons and Rick Owens here on a good day.

APC Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 78 18 02; www.apc.fr; 112 rue Vieille du Temple, 3e; 11.30am-8pm; Chemin Vert

The hip streetwear of the Atélier de Production et Création (Production and Creation Workshop) is very popular with those young Parisian guys with accidental pop-rock haircuts, white sneakers and jeans falling well below the waist. The focus is on simple lines and straight cuts, though some pieces are more adventurous. It also has women’s clothes.

CHERRY CHAU Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 77 12 11; www.cherrychau.com; 30 rue de Sévigné, 4e; 11am-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 2-7.30pm Sun; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

Long established in Hong Kong, Cherry Chau stocks the eponymous designer’s hats, scarves, jewellery and one-of-a-kind coiffes: headbands made from a variety of materials including feathers and beads. The pink-and-white shop is just west of place des Vosges.

EROTOKRITOS Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 78 14 04; www.erotokritos.com; 99 rue Vieille du Temple; 1-7.30pm Mon, 11am-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Filles du Calvaire

Greek-Cypriot Erotokritos’ clothes are chic and colourful, combining and contrasting fabrics with amazing prints. They’re also quite affordable, considering the designer’s hot reputation. There’s also a Les Halles branch (Map; 01 42 21 44 60; 58 rue d’Argout, 2e; Sentier), which keeps the same hours.

ISABEL MARANT Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 49 29 71 55; 16 rue de Charonne, 11e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Bastille

Great cardigans and trousers, interesting accessories, ethnic influences and beautiful fabrics: just a few reasons why Isabel Marant has become the chouchou (darling) of Paris fashion. Bohemian and stylish, these are clothes that people actually look good in.

L’ÉCLAIREUR Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 48 87 10 22; www.leclaireur.com; 3ter rue des Rosiers, 4e; 11am-7pm Mon-Sat; St-Paul

You’ll find John Galliano and Dries Van Noten rubbing shoulders with objects by Piet Hein Eek and Piero Fornasetti here. Part art space, part lounge and part deconstructionist fashion statement, this collection for women is known for having the next big thing first. Located just down the road is the stunning Marais branch (Map; 01 44 54 22 11; 12 rue Malher, 4e; St-Paul) for men’s fashion, converted from an old warehouse.

L’HABILLEUR Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 48 87 77 12; 44 rue de Poitou, 3e; 11am-8pm Mon-Sat; St-Sébastien Froissart

For more than a decade this shop has been known for its discount designer-wear – offering 50% to 70% off original prices. It generally stocks last season’s collections – including Plein Sud, Paul & Joe, Giorgio Brato and Belle Rose. The selection of men’s clothes is quite extensive.

MAGAZIN Z Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 48 87 68 07; www.z-enfant.com, in French; 39 rue de Rivoli, 4e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Hôtel de Ville

Just about everyone’s getting into the design business these days, so why not Zinédine Zidane, the erstwhile captain of the French national team? Gratefully ZZ restricts his line to clothing and accessories for kids up to age 14. No if, ands or (head) buts about it…


top picks
SHOPPING STRIPS
 

SHINE Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 48 05 80 10; 15 rue de Poitou, 3e; 11am-7pm Tue-Sat, 2-5pm Sun; Filles du Calvaire

Another limited but discerning collection of designer stuff in the trendsetting 3e. Young women’s clothing and some excellent shoes and handbags have been astutely selected, with plenty of Marc Jacobs, See by Chloé, K by Karl Lagerfeld and the current jewellery fetish, Bijoux de Sophie.

FRAGONARD Map    Cosmetics & Perfume

01 44 78 01 32; www.fragonard.com; 51 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 4e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat, 12-7pm Sun; St-Paul

This Parisian perfume maker has alluring natural scents in elegant bottles as well as candles, essential oils and soaps. In addition to the splendid smells, it has a small, expensive and very tasteful selection of clothing, hand-stitched linen tablecloths and napkins as well as jewellery. There’s also a St-Germain branch (Map; 01 42 84 12 12; 196 blvd St-Germain, 6e; St-Germain des Prés) and Fragonard runs the Musée du Parfum (Click here), which has its own shop.

L’ARTISAN PARFUMEUR Map    Cosmetics & Perfume

01 48 04 55 66; www.artisanparfumeur.com; 32 rue du Bourg Tibourg, 4e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Paul

This artisan has been making exquisite original scents and candles for decades. The products are expensive but of very high quality and attractively packaged. There are a half-dozen other outlets across town, as well as stands at the Galeries Lafayette and Printemps department stores.

BAZAR DE L’HÔTEL DE VILLE Map    Department Store

01 42 74 90 00; www.bhv.fr, in French; 14 rue du Temple, 4e; 9.30am-7.30pm Mon, Tue, Thu & Fri, to 9pm Wed, to 8pm Sat; Hôtel de Ville

Recently renovated, expanded and dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century, BHV is still pretty much a straightforward (though now flashier) department store – apart from its huge hardware/DIY department in the basement, with every possible type of hammer, power tool, nail, plug or hinge you could ask for.


DRESS FOR LESS
When I shop secondhand in Paris I don’t want to rummage through sloppy piles of someone else’s has-beens. That’s fine in my own village hall, but not in Paris.
First stop on my carefully researched list of designer outlets was Mistigriff (Map; www.mistigriff.fr; 83-53 rue St-Charles, 15e; St-Charles), a shop that got rave reports online. But in the flesh its neon-lit façade screamed ‘tack’, the security guard was snarling and the heaps of strings spilling onto the floor just didn’t ooze the elegance I’d set my heart on.
One peg up but still cut from the same soulless cloth was Mouton à Cinq Pattes (Map; 01 45 48 86 26; 8 & 18 rue St-Placide, 6e; Sèvres Babylone), two shops with a €1 trough of bargains as window display. But its tightly packed rows of clothes oozed choice and at €119 the Jean-Paul Gaultier bustiers (sorry, no conical cups) were a snip of the Triangle d’Or price tag.
A pleasant surprise was La Clef des Marques ( 01 45 49 31 00; 122-126 blvd Raspail, 6e; Vavin), despite its hackles-raising door policy: surrender your handbag in exchange for a ticket or keep it and be searched later. I swallowed my pride and left an hour later with a last-season Emilio Pucci ski top (€50), classic Ralph Lauren jumper (€80) and a note in my diary to bring my husband here for business suits next time. Its extensive designer lingerie (loads of Calvin Klein), children’s fashion (Le Petit Bateau, Diesel, Ralph Lauren) and sportswear sections were equally impressive.
I could have spent all day browsing les bonnes affaires – a mix of last-season leftovers at half the price and the current season’s collection costing 10% to 15% less – on Rue d’Alésia, 14e (Map; Alésia). Fascinating was the rail of prototypes of this summer’s frocks in Cacherel at No 114. There was only one of each design and each a taille unique (one size), but at €90 what a find. Exiting the metro station, walk west along rue d’Alésia to uncover its line-up of outlets, including Sonia Rykiel in the SR Store at Nos 64 and 112, Sinéquanone and Dorotennis at No 74, and Naf Naf at No 143.
My foray in current designer secondhand was short and sweet: Parisian pioneer of dépôt-vente in 1970, Chercheminippes (Map; www.chercheminippes.com; 102, 109-11 & 124 rue du Cherche Midi, 6e; Vaneau) in St-Germain des Prés was everything I could dream of in the shape of five beautifully presented boutiques on one street, each specialising in a different genre (haute couture, kids, menswear etc) and perfectly ordered by size and designer. There were even changing rooms.
The single biggest draw of shopping for vintage in Paris is not the promise of Parisian chic but price. Secondhand haute couture from previous decades costs 20% to 30% less in Paris than London, says Lawrence Carlier at Le Dépôt-Vente de Buci (Map; 01 46 34 28 28; 4 rue Bourbon le Château, 6e; Mabillion). She stocks hand-me-downs brought in from well-off ladies in the 6e arrondissement, returning anything that hasn’t sold after three months. ‘My vintage is mainly from the 1960s, very à la mode again’, she adds, as I mentally calculate if my bank account can handle pea-green cowboy boots, a Chanel jacket and an A-line skirt smothered in sequins. This stylish ‘boutique of curiosities’ with black wooden façade and a hip wine shop as neighbour is right up my alley – as is Madame Auguet’s Ragtime (Map; 01 56 24 00 36; 23 rue de l’Échaude, 6e; Mabillon) selling vêtements anciens from 1870 to 1970, and elegant L’Embellie (Map; 01 45 48 29 82; 2 rue du Regard, 6e; Sèvres Babylone). Count €100 to €1500 for a designer dress at all three. For old-fashioned accessories like gentlemen’s pocket watches, ladies’ hats and walking canes, browse Aspasie & Mathieu (Map; 10 rue des Carmes, 5e; Maubert Mutualité) in the Latin Quarter.
Paris being Paris, there’s secondhand…and secondhand: in the rag trade since 1975, collector Didier Ludot not only sells the city’s finest couture creations of yesteryear in his exclusive twinset of boutiques Didier Ludot (Map; 01 42 96 06 56; www.didierludot.com; 20 & 24 Galerie de Montpensier, 1er; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre), he also hosts fashion exhibitions in the neighbouring galleries of the Palais Royal, and has published a book portraying the evolution of the little black dress, brilliantly brought to life in his boutique that sells just that, La Petite Robe Noire ( 01 40 15 01 04; 125 Galerie de Valois, 1er). Shop mannequins modelled a 1960s Chanel and 2006 Lanvin the day we were there.
Prize for innovation goes to Andrea Crews (Map; 01 45 26 36 68; www.andreacrews.com; 10 rue Frochot, 9e; Pigalle), a creative collective that added a whole new dimension to my quest to dress for less. Using everything from discarded clothing to electrical fittings and household bric-a-brac, the team chops, sews, recycles and reinvents to create the most extraordinary new fashion not everyone (few?) would wear. ‘Sustainable secondhand’ is its motto.
Nicola Williams

À L’OLIVIER Map    Food & Drink

01 48 04 86 59; www.alolivier.com; 23 rue de Rivoli, 4e; 2-7pm Mon, 9.30am-7pm Tue-Sat; St-Paul

‘At the Olive Tree’ has been the place for oil, from olive and walnut to soy and sesame, since 1822. It also offers olive oil tastings and olive-oil beauty products, as well as good vinegars, jams and honeys.

JULIEN, CAVISTE Map    Food & Drink

01 42 72 00 94; 50 rue Charlot, 3e; 9.30am-1.30pm & 3.30-8.30pm Tue-Fri, 9.30am-8pm Sat; Filles du Calvaire

This independent wine store on hip rue Charlot focuses on small, independent producers and organic wines. There’s a unique selection of Rhône, Languedoc and Loire vintages and exceptional champagnes. The enthusiastic merchant Julien will locate, explain (and wax lyrical about) the wine for you, whatever your budget.

LE PALAIS DES THÉS Map    Food & Drink

01 48 87 80 60; www.palaisdesthes.com; 64 rue Vieille du Temple, 3e; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

The ‘Palace of Teas’ is not as well established as Mariage Frères (right), but the selection is as large and the surroundings much more 21st-century. There are three other outlets in Paris, including a 6e branch (Map; 01 42 22 03 98; 61 rue du Cherche Midi, 6e; Rennes), which keeps the same hours.

LES RUCHERS DU ROY Map    Food & Drink

01 42 72 02 96; www.lesruchersduroy.com, in French; 37 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; 11am-8pm Mon-Sat, 2-8pm Sun; St-Paul

‘The King’s Apiaries’ sells honey and apiarian products fit for a monarch – especially its pure royal jelly, a substance secreted by worker bees and fed to future queen bees. It sells dozens of types of honey, including those made from one single type of flower (miels monofloraux), honeys made from a number of blossoms (miels polyfloraux) and various regional honeys (miels des régions).

MARIAGE FRÈRES Map    Food & Drink

01 42 72 28 11; www.mariagefreres.com; 30 & 35 rue du Bourg Tibourg, 4e; shop 10.30am-7.30pm, tearooms noon-7pm; Hôtel de Ville

Founded in 1854, this is Paris’ first and arguably its finest teashop. Choose from more than 500 varieties of tea sourced from some 35 countries. In addition, Mariage Frères has two other outlets: the 6e branch (Map; 01 40 51 82 50; 13 rue des Grands Augustins; Odéon) and the 8e branch (Map; 01 46 22 18 54; 260 rue Faubourg Saint Honoré, 8e; Ternes)

PRODUITS DES MONASTÈRES Map    Food & Drink

01 48 04 39 05; 10 rue des Barres, 4e; 9.30am-noon & 2.30-8pm Tue-Fri, 10am-noon & 2.30-6.30pm Sat, 12.15-1pm Sun (just after church service); Hôtel de Ville or Pont Marie

This shop on an ancient cobbled street just down from Église St-Gervais-St-Protais sells jams, biscuits, cakes, muesli, honey, herbal teas and other comestibles made at Benedictine and Trappist monasteries in Jerusalem. For linens, candles, sandals and ceramics sourced from the same places, go around the corner to Monastica (Map; 01 48 87 85 13; 11 rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 4e; 10am-6pm Tue-Fri, 10am-noon & 1.15-6.30pm Sat).

2 MILLE & 1 NUITS Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 48 87 07 07; http://2001nuits.free.fr; 13 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 4e; 11am-7.30pm; Chemin Vert or St-Paul

The large ‘2001 Nights’ shop at the end of a courtyard just off rue des Francs Bourgeois has colourful gifts and decorative items with an Oriental (read: ‘Arabian Nights’) slant. Some of the stuff for sale – a silver cup with a handle made from antelope horn, for example – is just this side of kitsch, but it’s all good fun.

ATELIER D’AUTREFOIS Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 77 35 56; 61 blvd Beaumarchais, 3e; 10am-5.30pm; Chemin Vert

This treasure chest of a shop stocks exquisite music boxes – both new and antique – and will repair any that are ailing. It’s a shop that will attract both collectors and souvenir hunters.

BOUTIQUE PARIS-MUSÉES Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 74 13 02; 29 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 4e; 2-7pm Mon, 11am-1pm & 2-7pm Tue-Sat, noon-7.30pm Sun; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

This boutique stocks museum reproductions, especially of art and sculpture on exhibit at museums run by the City of Paris, such as the Musée Carnavalet and the Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris.

CSAO BOUTIQUE & GALLERY Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 71 33 17, 01 42 77 66 42; www.csao.fr, in French; 9 & 9bis rue Elzévir, 3e; 11am-7pm Tue-Fri, to 7.30pm Sat; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

This wonderful shop and gallery, owned and operated by the charitable Compagnie du Sénégal et de l’Afrique de l’Ouest (CSAO; Senegal and West Africa Company), distributes the work of African craftspeople and artists. Many of the colourful fabrics and weavings are exquisite. Included are items handmade from recycled handbags, aluminium cans and tomato paste tins.

LA BOUTIQUE DES INVENTIONS Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 71 44 19; www.la-boutique-des-inventions.com; Village St-Paul, 13 rue St-Paul, 4e; 11am-7pm Wed-Sun; St-Paul

This unique shop in the heart of Village St-Paul, a delightful little shopping square with antique shops, galleries and boutiques, is a forum for inventors and their inventions. Be the first on the block to own a shaker that sprinkles its own salt, a pepper grinder that twists itself or a miraculous filter that turns water into wine. Lots of wacky designs, too.


EXPECTANT FASHION
The French do it well. Chic shops include Formes (Map; 01 45 49 09 80; 5 rue du Vieux Colombier, 6e; St-Germain des Prés), with its classic but contemporary cuts sold elsewhere in Europe, too; the youthful with a dash of rock ’n’ roll 1 et 1 font 3 (Map; 01 40 62 92 15; www.1et1font3.com; 3 rue de Solférino, 7e; Solferino); and maternity fashion designer Véronique Delachaux (Map; 01 42 22 53 30; www.veroniquedelachaux.com; 55 blvd Raspail, 6e; Rennes).

LA CHARRUE ET LES ÉTOILES Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 48 87 39 07; 19 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 4e; 11am-7pm; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

Presumably named after Sean O’Casey’s 1926 play (though the Irish connection is lost on us), ‘The Plough and Stars’ may look like just another gift shop but stocks an usual collection of figurines modelled after celebrated works of art (eg Vertumnus by Arcimboldo) and miniature soldiers.

L’AGENDA MODERN Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 44 54 59 20; 42 rue de Sévigné, 3e; 9.30am-4.30pm Mon-Fri; St-Paul

Subtitled ‘The Shop of Days’, this boutique sells handmade diaries beautifully bound in natural or dyed alligator or calves’ leather. And, fear not, they’re bilingual, so the Monday-morning blues will not become les blues de lundi.

LE BOUDOIR ET SA PHILOSOPHIE Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 48 04 89 79; www.leboudoiretsaphilosophie.fr, in French; 18 rue Charlot, 3e; 2-7pm Tue-Sat; Filles du Calvaire

Like a 19th-century powder room bursting at the seams, this kitschy boudoir’s philosophy is one of parlour games, floral prints and silky nightgowns. Overflowing with all sorts of things from soaps to carnival masks, it’s great for finding that esoteric, nonfunctional gift.

MÉLODIES GRAPHIQUES Map    Gifts & Souvenirs

01 42 74 57 68; 10 rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 4e; 2-7pm Mon, 11am-7pm Tue-Sat; Pont Marie

Here you’ll find all sorts of items made from exquisite Florentine papier à cuve (paper hand-decorated with marbled designs). There are several other fine stationery shops along the same street.

BOUTIQUE OBUT Map    Hobby Items

01 47 00 91 38; www.labouleobut.com; 60 av de la République, 11e; 10am-noon & 12.30-6.30pm Tue-Sat; Parmentier

This is the Parisian mecca for fans of pétanque or the similar (though more formal) game of boules, a form of bowls played with heavy steel balls wherever a bit of flat and shady ground can be found. It will kit you out with all the equipment necessary to get a game going and even has team uniforms.

LA MAISON DE L’ASTRONOMIE Map    Hobby Items

01 42 77 99 55; 33-35 rue de Rivoli, 4e; 10.30am-6.40pm Tue-Sat; Hôtel de Ville

If you’ve ever had the inclination to gaze at the stars, visit this large shop just west of the Hôtel de Ville. The 1st floor is positively crammed with telescopes, some of which can run into the tens of thousands of euros. It also stocks astronomical books, periodicals, sky maps, binoculars and globes.

BAINS PLUS Map    Household Goods

01 48 87 83 07; www.parismarais.com/shopping-guide/bains-plus-spa; 51 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 3e; 2-7pm Sun & Mon, 11am-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Hôtel de Ville

A bathroom supplier for the 21st century and true to its name, ‘Baths Plus’ stocks luxurious robes and gowns, soaps and oils, shaving brushes and mirrors.

LA MAISON DU HAMAC Map     Household Goods

01 47 00 66 00; www.lamaisonduhamac.com; 57 rue de Malte, 11e 10.30am-7pm Tue-Sat; République

‘The House of the Hammock’ specialises in just that – a movable bed you string between two trees and rock till you drop. Choose anything from a brightly coloured net specimen from Brazil, Colombia or Nicaragua, or one shrouded in mosquito netting for napping by the water.

SIC AMOR Map    Jewellery

01 42 76 02 37; 20 rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 4e; 11am-7pm Mon-Sat; Pont Marie

This shop sells contemporary jewellery by local designers from a shop located opposite the erstwhile headquarters of the all-but-moribund Partie Communiste Française, which is now reborn as the Galerie PCF.

FNAC MUSIQUE Map    Music

08 25 02 00 20; www.fnac.com, in French; 4 place de la Bastille, 12e; Bastille; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat

Fnac’s flagship music store at Bastille has one of the largest collections of local and international music in Paris.


top picks
GIFT IDEAS
 

L’OURS DU MARAIS Map    Toys

01 42 77 60 43; www.oursdumarais.com; 18 rue Pavée, 4e; 11.30am-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 2-7.30pm Sun; St-Paul

‘The Marais Bear’ doesn’t focus on Smoky or Yogi but on Teddy – there are more versions of the popular cuddly toy in this crowded little boutique than you could fill a den with.

PUZZLES MICHÈLE WILSON Map    Toys

01 47 00 12 27; www.pmw.fr; 39 rue de la Folie Méricourt, 11e; 10am-6pm Tue-Thu, to 7pm Fri & Sat; St-Ambroise

Puzzleurs and puzzleuses will love the selection of hand-cut wooden jigsaw puzzles available in this shop. Ranging in size (and degree of difficulty) from 80 to 900 pieces, the puzzles depict for the most part major works of art – everything from Delacroix and Millet to the impressionists. The ones of medieval stained glass and 18th-century fans are particularly fine. There’s also a 15e branch (Map; 01 45 75 35 28; 97 av Émile Zola, 15e; 9am-7pm Mon-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat; Charles Michels)

TUMBLEWEED Map    Toys

01 42 78 06 10; www.tumbleweedparis.com; 19 rue de Turenne, 4e; 11am-7pm Mon-Sat, 2-7pm Sun; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

This gorgeous little shop, which specialises in l’artisanat d’art ludique (crafts of the playing art), stocks wonderful handmade wooden toys, some of which look too nice to play with. The brain teasers and puzzles for adults are exquisitely made; we especially love the Japanese ‘spin’ and ‘secret’ boxes that defy entry.


top picks
BOOKSHOPS
 

VERT D’ABSINTHE Map    Drink

01 42 71 69 73; 11 rue d’Ormesson, 4e; noon-7pm Tue-Sat; St-Paul

Fans of the fée verte (green fairy), as absinthe was known during the Belle Époque, will think they’ve died and gone to heaven here. Not only can you buy bottles of the best-quality hooch here but all the paraphernalia as well: glasses, water jogs and tiny spoons for the all-important sugar cube.

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THE ISLANDS

LIBRAIRIE ULYSSE Map    Books

01 43 25 17 35; www.ulysse.fr; 26 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; 2-8pm Tue-Fri; Pont Marie

A delightful shop full of travel guides, maps and sage advice from well-travelled staff. The 20,000 back issues of National Geographic are not to be sniffed at.

LA PETITE SCIERIE Map    Food

01 55 42 14 88; 60 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; 11am-8pm; Pont Marie

This little hole-in-the-wall sells every permutation of duck edibles with the emphasis – naturellement – on foie gras. The products come direct from the farm with no intermediary involved, so you can be assured of the highest quality.

SOBRAL Map    Jewellery

01 43 25 17 35; 26 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; 11am-7.30pm Mon-Sat, to 7pm Sun; Pont Marie

Brighten up your life with a bangle, pendant, pair of earrings or other costume jewellery pieces made from recycled resin by Brazilian jeweller, Carlos Sobral. Yes, he makes toilet seats and Eiffel Towers, too.

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LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES

ABBEY BOOKSHOP Map    Books

01 46 33 16 24; www.abbeybookshop.net; 29 rue de la Parcheminerie, 5e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Cluny-La Sorbonne

This mellow, Canadian-owned bookshop is known for its free tea and coffee (sweetened with maple syrup) sipped over new and secondhand books, fiction and nonfiction.

LIBRAIRIE EYROLLES Map    Books

01 44 41 11 72; www.eyrolles.com, in French; 61 blvd St-Germain, 5e; 9.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Maubert Mutualité

Art, design, architecture, dictionaries and kids’ books are the mainstay of this large bookshop with titles in English and bags of browsing space. For maps, guides and travel lit hop two doors over to its Librairie de Voyage (Map; 01 46 34 82 75; 63 blvd St-Germain, 5e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon, 9.30am-7.30pm Tue-Fri, 9.30am-8pm Sat; Maubert Mutualité).

SHAKESPEARE & COMPANY Map    Books

01 43 26 96 50; 37 rue de la BÛcherie, 5e; 10am-11pm Mon-Sat, 11am-11pm Sun; St-Michel

Paris’ most famous English-language bookshop sells new and used books and is a charm to browse (grab a read and sink into one of the two cinema chairs near the stairs out back); the staff’s picks are worth noting and there’s a dusty old library on the 1st floor. This isn’t the original Shakespeare & Company owned by Sylvia Beach, who published James Joyce’s Ulysses; that was closed down by the Nazis.

ALBUM Map    Comics

01 43 25 85 19; 8 rue Dante, 5e; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat, noon-7pm Sun; Maubert Mutualité

The ultimate in adult fantasy: bandes dessinées (comic books) – huge in France – is the speciality here. For graphic novels or comic characters modelled in plastic or incorporated in a grown-up designer toy or gadget, nip to its other nearby branch (Map; 01 53 10 00 60; 67 blvd St-Germain, 5e; Maubert Mutualité).

PÂTISSERIE SADAHARU AOKI Map    Food

01 45 35 36 80; www.sadaharuaoki.com; 56 blvd du Port-Royal, 5e; 9am-7pm Tue-Sat, 10am-6pm Sun; Port-Royal

‘Exquisite’ fails to describe the creations of one of Paris’ top pastry chefs, Tokyo-born Sadaharu Aoki. Too beautiful to eat, his gourmet works include ‘eye-shadow’ palettes, boxes of 72 different flavoured macaroons and green-tea chocolate.

MAGIE Map    Hobby Items

01 43 54 13 63; www.mayette.com; 8 rue des Carmes, 5e; 1-8pm Mon-Sat; Maubert Mutualité

One of a kind, this 19th-century magic shop (1808) is said to be the world’s oldest. In the hands of world-famous magic pro Dominique Duvivier since 1991, professional and hobbyist magicians flock here to discuss king sandwiches, reverse assemblies, false cuts and other card tricks with him and his daughter, Alexandra. Should you want to learn the tricks of the trade, Duvivier has magic courses up his sleeve.

AU VIEUX CAMPEUR Map    Outdoor Gear, Books

01 53 10 48 48; www.auvieuxcampeur.fr, in French; 48 rue des Écoles, 5e; 11am-8pm Mon-Wed & Fri, to 9pm Thu, 10am-8pm Sat; Maubert Mutualité or Cluny La Sorbonne

This sporting-gear chain runs 26 shops in the Latin Quarter, each selling equipment for a specific outdoor activity. Find camping gear at 6 rue Thénard; clothing for le froid urbain (city cold) at 50 rue des Écoles and 3 rue de Latran; and Paris’s most complete range of maps and guides at 2 rue de Latran (Map).

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ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG

Bijou art galleries, florists, antique stores, designer furnishings, stylish vintage clothes (Click here), moderately priced fashion…the northern wedge of the 6e between Église St-Germain des Prés and the Seine is a dream to mooch. Left Bank fashion in the shape of midrange boutiques (Ventilo, Cacherel, Penny Black, Vanessa Bruno, Joseph etc) where middle-class French women buy clothes goes down rue Bonaparte and rue St-Suplice and continues with chain stores on rue de Rennes.

For children’s fashion, walk the length of rue Vavin, 6e (metro Vavin), avoiding, if you have the kids in tow, chocolate-maker Jean-Paul Hévin (Map) at No 3, who sells chocolate stiletto shoes and 15cm-tall chocolate Eiffel Towers. If it’s smelly wellies that tickle your kid’s fancy go to Boatilus (Map; 18 rue du Dragon, 6e; St-Germain des Prés).

Don’t miss the old-fashioned boutiques selling music boxes, carousels and globes in the Cour du Commerce St-André, an enchanting glass-covered passageway built in 1735 to link a pair of Jeu de Paume (old-style tennis) courts.

IVOIRE Map    Art & Antiques

01 43 54 71 09; 57 rue Bonaparte, 6e; St-Germain des Prés

This family-run business dating to 1913 is a two-man team comprising father Pierre Heckmann (in his mid-80s) and son Jean-Pierre (apprenticed at age 14 and not far off retirement himself). Sculpting and restoring ivory, bone and nacre is their trade and their art is extraordinary. The workshop interior, last refitted in 1937, is original.

VOYAGEURS & CURIEUX Map    Art & Antiques

01 43 26 14 58; 2 rue Visconti, 6e; 2-7pm Tue-Sat; St-Germain des Prés

Jean-Édouard Carlier’s primitive art shop looks and feels like an 18th-century cabinet of curiosities collected from around the world: chalices made from coconut shells, unusual feathers and beads, and odd masks.

GALERIE HÉLÈNE PORÉE Map    Art, Jewellery

01 43 54 17 00; 1 rue de l’Odéon, 6e; 11am-1pm & 2-7pm Tue-Sat; Odéon

Exquisite ceramics, glassware and jewellery is showcased at this thoroughly modern art gallery, host to six or seven shows a year.

LIBRAIRIE LE MONITEUR Map    Books

01 44 41 15 75; www.librairiedumoniteur.com; 7 place de l’Odéon, 6e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Odéon

This specialist bookshop sports books relating to design, architecture and urbanism, including the annual French–English Paris Design Guide published by bilingual design mag Intramuros.

TASCHEN Map    Books

01 40 52 79 22; 2 rue du Buci, 6e; 11am-8pm Sun-Wed, to midnight Thu & Fri; Odéon

Illustrated books on art, design, architecture, fashion and urban culture is what this innovative book publisher is about. Equally striking is its shop design by Philippe Starck. Bargain buys begging to be browsed fill stands on the pavement outside.

TEA & TATTERED PAGES Map    Books

01 40 65 94 35; 24 rue Mayet, 6e; 11am-7pm Mon-Sat, noon-6pm Sun; Duroc

More than 15,000 volumes are squeezed onto two floors at this secondhand English-language bookshop with tearoom.

VILLAGE VOICE Map    Books

01 46 33 36 47; www.villagevoicebookshop.com; 6 rue Princesse, 6e; 2-8pm Mon, 10am-8pm Tue-Sat, 2-6pm Sun; Mabillon

With an excellent selection of contemporary North American fiction and European literature, lots of readings and helpful staff, the Village Voice is a favourite.

SHU UEMURA Map    Cosmetics

01 45 48 02 55; 176 blvd St-Germain, 6e; 11am-8pm Sun-Wed, to midnight Thu & Fri; Odéon

Curly fake eyelashes, lime-marmalade lip gloss (yep, it’s green), 71 shades of lipstick and badger-hair make-up brushes: this Japanese cosmetic boutique founded by the Hollywood make-up guru who painted Shirley Maclaine’s face in the film My Geisha (1962) is extraordinary. Treat yourself to a 1½-hour lesson (€150) at its make-up school.

HUILERIE J LEBLANC ET FILS Map    Food

01 46 34 61 55; www.huile-leblanc.com; 6 rue Jacob, 6e; 11am-7pm Tue-Sat; St-Germain des Près

The Leblanc family has made the smoothest of culinary oils (almonds, pistachios, sesame seeds, pine kernels, peanuts etc) at its stone mill in Burgundy since 1878. Taste and buy.


top picks
LEFT-BANK GALLERIES
Meandering rue Mazarine and surrounding rue Jacques Callot, rue de l’Echaudé and rue de Seine are a feast for the soul with their vibrant art and design galleries.
 
  • Galerie Downtown (Map; 01 46 33 82 41; www.galeriedowntown.com; 33 rue de Seine, 6e) Designer furniture has been this gallery’s exclusive forté for 25 years.
  • Galerie Loevenbruck (Map; 01 53 10 85 68; www.loevenbruck.com; 40 rue de Seine, 6e) Larger-than-life pop art.
  • Galerie Onega (Map; 01 40 46 81 25; 60 rue Mazarine, 6e) Street art and graffiti – a bold statement indeed.
  • La Galerie Moderne (Map; 01 46 33 13 59; www.lagaleriemoderne.com; 52 rue Mazarine, 6e) Original designer furniture and lights from the 1950s, ’60s and ’70s.
  • Pièce Unique Variations (Map; 01 43 26 85 93; www.galeriepieceunique.com; 26-28 rue Mazarine & 4 rue Jacques Callot, 6e) Permanent collection of works and installations by contemporary artists; its single-room gallery on rue Jacques Callot showcases one (usually very large) piece especially created for this pièce unique (unique room), illuminated until 2am.

PIERRE HERMÉ Map    Food

01 43 54 47 77; www.pierreherme.com; 72 rue Bonaparte, 6e; 10am-7pm Sun-Fri, to 7.30pm Sat; Odéon or Luxembourg

It’s the size of chocolate box, but once in your tastebuds will go wild. Pierre Hermé is one of Paris’ top chocolatiers and his two boutiques are a veritable feast of perfectly presented petits fours, cakes, chocolate, nougats, macaroons and jam. The second branch ( 01 47 83 89 96; 185 rue Vaugirard, 15e; 10am-7pm Tue-Sat; Pasteur) is located in the 15 arrondissement.

CACAO ET CHOCOLAT Map    Food & Drink

01 46 33 77 63; www.cacaoetchocolat.com; 29 rue du Buci, 6e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Sat, 11am-7pm Sun; Mabillon

You haven’t tasted chocolate till you’ve had a hot chocolate (€3.50) spiced with cinnamon, ginger or cayenne pepper at this exotic shop showcasing cocoa beans in every guise. Citrus, spice and chilli are among the flavoured bars to buy here or at its outlets in the Marais (Map; 01 42 71 50 06; 36 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 11am-7.30pm; St-Paul) and on Île St-Louis ( 01 46 33 33 33; 63 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; 10.30am-7.30pm; Pont Marie).

LA BOUTIQUE DU CRÉATEUR DE JEUX Map    Games

08 75 97 69 63; www.laboutiqueducreateurdejeux.com, in French; 40 rue St-Jacques, 6e; 11am-7pm Tue-Sat; Cluny La Sorbonne

Another gem, this one sells brand-new board and card games created in the last couple of years in France (many are bilingual French–English). Its jeux de mesure are made-to-measure, limited editions often focusing on a social issue such as alcohol abuse, immigrant equality etc.

ROUGE & NOIR Map    Games

01 43 26 05 77; www.rouge-et-noir.fr; 26 rue Vavin, 6e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Vavin

Trivial Pursuit Paris, Rubik’s cubes, juggling balls, backgammon, chess, tarot and playing cards… This small family-run boutique specialising in traditional and not-so-traditional games promises bags of fun.

AU PLAT D’ÉTAIN Map    Hobby Items

01 43 54 32 06; http://auplatdetain.com, in French; 16 rue Guisarde, 6e; 11am-12.30pm & 2-7pm Tue-Sat; Odéon

People do collect tin (étain) and lead soldiers, as this fascinating boutique crammed with nail-sized, hand-painted military soldiers, drummers, musicians, snipers and cavaliers attests. In business since 1775, the shop itself is practically a collectable.

LA MAISON DE POUPÉE Map    Hobby Items

01 46 33 74 05, 06 09 65 58 68; 40 rue de Vaugirard, 6e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Odéon & Luxembourg

Poupées anciennes (antique dolls) is what this enchanting boutique opposite the residence of the French Senate’s president sells.

FLAMANT HOME INTERIORS Map    Home & Garden

01 56 81 12 40; 8 place de Furstenberg & 8 rue de l’Abaze, 6e; noon-7pm Mon, 10.30am-7pm Tue-Sat; Mabillon

Silverware, curtains, cutlery, tableware, linens and other quality home furnishings: This maze of a concept store with two entrances is the place where moneyed Parisians shop for the home.

LES BEAUX DRAPS DE JEANINE CROS Map    Home Interiors

01 45 48 00 67; 11 rue d’Assas, 6e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Rennes

Restoring old fabrics is the highly specialist trade of passionate seamstress Jeanine Cros, and this old-style boudoir – a Pandora’s box of fabric – is draped with layer after layer of exquisite old linen, materials tinted with natural pigments etc.

ODIMEX PARIS Map    Home Interiors

01 46 33 98 96; 17 Rue de l’Odéon, 6e; 10.30am-6.30pm Mon-Sat; Odéon

Teapots in all their guises: there are little ones, big ones, sophisticated, comic and very expensive ones. Some of the Japanese teapots are particularly beautiful.

LE PETIT BATEAU Map    Kids

01 45 49 48 38; www.petit-bateau.fr; 81 rue de Sèvres, 7e; Sèvres Babylone

This much-loved French brand, now global, has been kicking around since 1893, when it first started making the soft, cotton children’s underwear for which it’s famed. A staple of any French family, Le Petit Bateau is substantially cheaper to buy in France than elsewhere. Its flagship store is at 116 av des Champs-Elsyée, 8e.

HAPART Map    Toys, Antiques

01 56 24 94 34; 72 rue Mazarine, 6e; 2-7pm Tue-Sun; Odéon

A lovely one to idle in, this collector’s delight the size of a pocket handkerchief recalls lost childhoods with its romantic collection of old and antique toys.

LA DERNIER GOUTTE Map    Wine

01 43 29 11 62; 6 rue du Bourbon le Château, 6e; 10.30am-1.30pm & 3-8.30pm Mon-Fri, 10am-8.30pm Sat, 11am-7pm Sun; Mabillon

‘The Last Drop’ is the lovechild of sommelier Juan Sánchez, the American behind the extraordinary wine list to grace Fish La Boissonerie. His tiny wine shop is packed with exciting French vins de propriétaires (estate-bottled wines) made by small independent producers. Saturday evening ushers in a talk and tasting.

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MONTPARNASSE

There might be just one raison d’être to shop in the 14e arrondissement, but it’s bargain-packed.

MARCHÉ AUX PUCES DE LA PORTE DE VANVES Map    Flea Market

av Georges Lafenestre & av Marc Sangnier, 14e; 7am-6pm or later Sat & Sun; Porte de Vanves

The Porte de Vanves flea market is the smallest and, some say, friendliest of the lot. Av Georges Lafenestre has lots of ‘curios’ that don’t quite qualify as antiques. Av Marc Sangnier is lined with stalls of new clothes, shoes, handbags and household items for sale.

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FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES

In the more austere 7e arrondissement, the style of St-Germain des Prés continues along the western half of blvd St-Germain and rue du Bac – two streets with a stylish collection of contemporary furniture, kitchen and design shops (including the Conran Shop, Kartell, and Paris’ biggest shop window in the shape of Knoll at No 268).

The fashion show congregates on rue de Grenelle, spilling across from place St-Sulpice in the neighbouring 6e Click here. By the water, the exclusive Carré Rive Gauche (www.carrerivegauche.com; Rue du Bac or Solférino) portfolio of 120 art and antiques galleries sits square on quai Voltaire and the trio of parallel streets south.

ALEXANDRA SOJFERMap    Accessories

01 42 22 17 02; www.alexandrasojfer.fr; 218 blvd St-Germain, 7e; 9.30am-7pm; Rue du Bac

Become Parisian chic with a frivolous, frilly, fantastical or frightfully fashionable umbrella (parapluie), parasol or walking cane, handcrafted by Alexandra Sojfer at this parapluie-packed St-Germain boutique, in the trade since 1834.

GALERIE FRANÇOIS RÉNIER Map    Accessories

01 45 49 26 88; www.unjourunsac.com; 27 blvd Raspail, 7e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Sèvres Babylone

Un jour un sac (a bag a day) is the philosophy of handbag designer François Renier, who creates bags in paper, fabric or leather and leaves her customer to pick which handles to attach. Buy a couple to mix ’n’ match at home.

LE BON MARCHÉ Map    Department Store

01 44 39 80 00; www.bonmarche.fr; 24 rue de Sèvres, 7e; 9.30am-7pm Mon-Wed & Fri, 10am-9pm Thu, 9.30am-8pm Sat; Sèvres Babylone

Built by Gustave Eiffel as Paris’ first department store in 1852, Le Bon Marché (which translates as ‘good market’ but also means ‘bargain’) is less frenetic than its rivals across the river, but no less chic. It has excellent men’s and women’s fashion collections, and a designer ‘snack chic’ café on the 1st floor. But the icing on the cake is its glorious food hall, La Grande Épicerie de Paris (Map; 26 rue de Sèvres; Sèvres Babylone), which sells, among other edibles, vodka-flavoured lollipops with detoxified ants inside and fist-sized Himalayan salt crystals to grate over food.

DEYROLLE Map    Home & Garden

01 42 22 30 07; 46 rue du Bac, 7e; 10am-1pm & 2-7pm Mon, 10am-7pm Tue-Sat; Rue du Bac

This shop, born in 1831, has to be seen to be believed. Be it a stuffed white stork, baby chick, butterfly or tiger you want to hang in your home, you can buy one here. A quick chat with a member of staff confirmed that Deyrolle stocks every animal species legally allowed. Buy rare and unusual seeds (including many old types of tomato), gardening tools and accessories on the ground floor.

BONTON BAZAR Map    Kids

01 42 22 77 69; www.bonton.fr; 122 rue du Bac, 7e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Sèvres Babylone

This ode to childhood is an old-fashioned delight. It sells a mix of clothes, toys, kids’ chopsticks (handy for families dining out a lot in Paris), kitchen and bathroomwares (polka-dotted cutlery, black rubber ducks with fishing rods), bedroom decorations, pedal-powered metal cars and so on.

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ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES

The av des Champs-Élysées is lined with super-sized chain stores; the luxury fashion houses for which the area is famous and which make for such wonderful window-shopping are mostly situated along av Montaigne (with the mammoth Louis Vuitton store on the corner) and the equally prestigious av Georges V. For more, boxed text.


PATRICIA WELLS – ONLY THE BEST
The only American considered to have truly captured the soul of French cuisine, writer, cookery teacher and author of The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris Patricia Wells (www.patriciawells.com) has lived, cooked and shopped in Paris since 1980. ‘Only the best’ is the label on the fresh fish, meat, cheese, breads and other market produce that guests at her St-Germain des Prés cooking studio use in class. So just where does she shop? Nicola Williams finds out.
What is it that makes Paris so wonderful for culinary shopping? The tradition, the quality, the quantity, the atmosphere and physical beauty!
Where do you buy your weekly groceries? All over: The Sunday organic market (blvd Raspail, 7e; Rennes) at Rennes; Poilâne for bread; Quatrehommes for cheese; Poissonnerie du Bac (69 rue du Bac, 7e; Rue du Bac) for fish; also the President Wilson market.
And for that extra-special gourmet meal? I shop regularly at Le Bon Marché’s La Grande Épicerie (opposite) because it is right down the street from me. But for special meals I always order things in advance and go from shop to shop. That is the fun of Paris and of France.
Favourite markets & and top tips? I love the dried fruits and nuts at the Sunday Rennes market, all the fish stands at the President Wilson market, the Planet Fruits and Daguerre Marée stands at the Rue Poncelet market. If you live in Paris, become a client fidèle so they reach in the back and give you the best stuff. If you only go once in a while, just smile and be friendly.
Your top specialist addresses? Poilâne and Kayser (bread; Click here); Maison du Chocolat (19 rue de Sèvres, 6e) and Pierre Hermé (chocolate and cakes; Click here); La Dernière Goutte (wine; Click here).
A creative idea for a culinary souvenir from Paris? Fragonard, the perfume maker, has a great shop on blvd St-Germain. They have a changing litany of great things for the home, such as fabulous vases with an Eiffel Tower theme, lovely embroidered napkins with a fish or vegetable theme, great little spoons with a cake or pastry theme. Nothing is very expensive and the offerings change every few months, so you have to pounce when you find something you love. The gift wrapping in gorgeous Fragonard bags is worth it alone!
Interviewed by Nicola Williams

If the big fashion houses reign mainly on the other side of the Champs-Élysées, the class and couture continues along in the 8e rue du Faubourg St-Honoré and its eastern extension, rue St-Honoré in the 1e, where designer shops – and designer shoppers – abound. This area is also home to the grand gourmet food stores of place de la Madeleine and the luxury jewellery of place Vendôme.

ESPACE IGN Map    Books

01 43 98 80 00; www.ign.fr; 107 rue La Boétie, 8e; noon-6.30pm Mon, 11am-7pm Tue-Fri, to 6.30pm Sat; Franklin D Roosevelt

This is the place to find a full selection of Institut Géographique National (IGN) maps, as well as atlases, globes, walking maps, city plans, compasses, satellite images, historic maps and guidebooks.

ERES Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 47 42 28 82; www.eres.fr; 2 rue Tronchet, 8e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine

You will pay an arm and a leg for a swimsuit here, but anyone who has despaired at buying bathers in the past will understand why these have become a must-have item for those in the know. The stunning swimmers are cut to suit all shapes and sizes, with bikini tops and bottoms sold separately. It also stocks magnificent lingerie.

GUERLAIN Map    Cosmetics & Perfume

01 45 62 52 57; www.guerlain.com; 68 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Sat, 3-7pm Sun; Franklin D Roosevelt

Guerlain is Paris’ most famous parfumerie, and its shop, dating from 1912, is one of the most beautiful in the city. With its shimmering mirror and marble Art Deco interior, it’s a reminder of the former glory of the Champs-Élysées.

SÉPHORA Map    Cosmetics & Perfume

01 53 93 22 50; www.sephora.com; 70-72 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 10am-midnight; Franklin D Roosevelt

Séphora’s flagship store features over 12,000 fragrances and cosmetics for your sampling pleasure. You can spend hours in here and will invariably come out with bags of stuff (and maybe a headache from all the scent in the air).

BOUTIQUE MAILLE Map    Food & Drink

01 40 15 06 00; www.maille.com; 6 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine

The mustard specialist has premade items, but can also prepare an unimaginable 30 different varieties for you, designed to accompany your cuisine, such as the type with chestnuts and pink bay to accompany game or poultry, or garlic and lemon to go with fowl. There is a range of exclusive vinegars too, and the cruets to hold them.

FAUCHON Map    Food & Drink

01 70 39 38 00; www.fauchon.fr, in French; 26 & 30 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 8.30am-7pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine

Paris’ most famous caterer has a half-dozen departments in two buildings selling the most incredibly mouthwatering delicacies, from pâté de foie gras and truffles to confitures (jams).

FROMAGERIE ALLÉOSSE Map–5    Food & Drink

01 46 22 50 45; www.alleosse.com; 13 rue Poncelet, 17e; 9.30am-1pm & 4-7pm Tue-Thu, 9am-1pm & 3.30-7pm Fri & Sat, 9am-1pm Sun; Ternes

To our minds, this is the best cheese shop in Paris and worth a trip across town. Cheeses are sold as they should be – grouped in five main categories: fromage de chèvre (goat’s milk cheese), fromage à pâte persillée (veined or blue cheese), fromage à pâte molle (soft cheese), fromage à pâte demi-dure (semi-hard cheese) and fromage à pâte dure (hard cheese). Ask for advice.


HISTORIC HAUTE COUTURE
A stroll around the legendary Triangle d’Or (av Montaigne and av Georges V) and along rue du Faubourg St-Honoré, all in the 8e, constitutes the walk of fame of top French fashion. Rubbing shoulders with the world’s top international designers are Paris’ most influential French fashion houses (Map; Georges V):
 
  • Chanel (Map; 01 47 23 74 12; www.chanel.com; 42 av Montaigne, 8e) Box jackets and little black dresses, chic ever since their first appearance in the 1920s.
  • Christian Dior (Map; 01 40 73 73 73; www.dior.com; 30 av Montaigne, 8e) Post-WWII, Dior’s creations dictated style, re-establishing Paris as the world fashion capital.
  • Christian Lacroix (Map; 01 42 68 79 04; www.christianlacroix.com; 73 rue Faubourg St-Honoré, 8e) Taffeta and lace flirt with denim and knits in this designer’s theatrical combinations.
  • Givenchy (Map; 01 44 31 51 09; www.givenchy.com; 3 av Georges V, 8e) The first to present a luxurious collection of women’s prêt a porter (ready to wear).
  • Hermès (Map; 01 40 17 47 17; www.hermes.com; 24 rue du Faubourg St-Honoré, 8e) Founded in 1837 by a saddle-maker, Hermès’ famous scarves are the fashion accessory.
  • Jean-Paul Gaultier (Map; 01 44 43 00 44; www.jeanpaulgaultier.com; 44 av George V, 8e) A shy kid from the Paris suburbs, JPG morphed into the enfant terrible of the fashion world with his granny’s corsets, men dressed in skirts and Madonna’s conical bra.
  • Louis Vuitton (Map; 01 53 57 52 00; www.vuitton.com; 101 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e) Take home a Real McCoy canvas bag with the ‘LV’ monogram.

HÉDIARD Map    Food & Drink

01 43 12 88 88; www.hediard.fr; 21 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 9am-9pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine

This famous luxury food shop established in 1854 consists of two adjacent sections selling prepared dishes, teas, coffees, jams, wines, pastries, fruits, vegetables and so on, as well as a popular restaurant ( 01 43 12 88 99; 8.30am-9pm Mon-Fri, to 10pm Sat), where tea is served from 3pm to 6pm. There’s a George V branch (Map; 01 47 20 44 44; 31 av George V, 8e; George V) open Sundays.

LA MAISON DE LA TRUFFE Map    Food & Drink

01 42 65 53 22; www.maison-de-la-truffe.com, in French; 19 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 10am-10pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine

‘The House of Truffles’ is the place for tasting these fine fungi – French black from late October to March, Alba white (over €200 per 100g) from mid-October to December. There’s a restaurant attached where you can sample dishes.

LES CAVES AUGÉ Map    Food & Drink

01 45 22 16 97; 116 blvd Haussmann, 8e; 1-7.30pm Mon, 9am-7.30pm Tue-Sat; St-Augustin

Founded in 1850, this marchand de vin (wine shop) should be your first choice if you trust the taste of Marcel Proust, who was a regular customer. It’s now under the stewardship of knowledgeable sommelier Marc Sibard.

VIRGIN MEGASTORE Map    Music, Books

01 49 53 50 00; 52-60 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 10am-midnight Mon-Sat, noon-midnight Sun; Franklin D Roosevelt

This French-owned version of the huge British music and bookshop chain has the largest music collection in Paris, as well as English-language books.

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OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS

The area around Opéra and the Grands Boulevards is where you’ll find Paris’ most popular grands magasins, around which are clustered branches of all the major French and international chain stores. If here in December, check out the fabulous Christmas shows in the department store windows and the sales in January and July.

HÔTEL DROUOT Map    Art & Antiques

01 48 00 20 20; www.drouot.com; 7-9 rue Drouot, 9e; sales 2-6pm; Richelieu Drouot

Paris’ most established auction house has been selling fine lots for more than a century. The bidding is in rapid-fire French (also now available on the website) and a 10% to 15% commission is charged on top of the purchase price. Viewings (always a vicarious pleasure) are usually from 11am to 6pm the day before and from 10.30am to 11.30am the morning of the auction. Further details can be found in the weekly Gazette de l’Hôtel Drouot (www.gazette-drouot.com; €3.40), available at the auction house and selected newsstands on Friday as well as on the main Hôtel Drouot website.

WOCHDOM Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 53 21 09 72; www.wochdom.com; 72 rue Condorcet, 18e; 12-8pm Mon-Sat; Pigalle

Cool in a slightly creepy way, this self-consciously chic, retro seconds store has painstakingly selected ‘design vintage’ and shoes, mostly from the ’70s. Staff are helpful and full of ideas.

GALERIES LAFAYETTE Map    Department Store

01 42 82 36 40; www.galerieslafayette.com; 40 blvd Haussmann, 9e; 9.30am-7.30pm Mon-Wed, Fri & Sat, to 9pm Thu; Auber or Chaussée d’Antin

A vast grand magasin in two adjacent buildings, Galeries Lafayette features over 75,000 brand-name items and a wide range of fashion labels. In the annexe linked by a covered footbridge over rue de Mogador you’ll find menswear, the world’s largest lingerie department and Lafayette Gourmet ( 9.30am-8.30pm Mon-Wed, Fri & Sat, 9am-9pm Thu). There’s a fine view from the rooftop restaurant. A fashion show (bookings 01 42 82 30 25) takes place at 3pm Friday. The 10,000-sq metre Lafayette Maison (Map; 35 blvd Haussmann, 9e; Auber or Chaussée d’Antin) has four floors with each dedicated to a particular room in the house.

LE PRINTEMPS Map    Department Store

01 42 82 57 87; www.printemps.com; 64 blvd Haussmann, 9e; 9.35am-7pm Mon-Wed, Fri & Sat, to 10pm Thu; Havre Caumartin

This is actually three separate stores – Le Printemps de la Mode (women’s fashion), Le Printemps de l’Homme (for men) and Le Printemps de la Beauté et Maison (for beauty and household goods) – offering a staggering display of perfume, cosmetics and accessories, as well as established and up-and-coming designer wear.

LA MAISON DU MIEL Map    Food & Drink

01 47 42 26 70; www.maisondumiel.com; 24 rue Vignon, 9e; 9.30am-7pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine

In this sticky, very sweet business since 1898, ‘The Honey House’ stocks over 50 kinds of honey, with such flavours as Corsican chestnut flower, Turkish pine and Tasmanian leatherwood.

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GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE

These areas are not especially known for their shops, but there are a couple of specialist boutiques worth going the extra mile for, and workaday department stores and electronics retailers ready to supply you with the toothbrushes and adaptors you left at home.

ARTAZART Map    Books

01 40 40 24 00; www.artazart.com; 83 quai de Valmy, 10e; 10.30am-7.30pm Mon-Fri, 2-8pm Sat & Sun; République or Gare de l’Est

Hard by the Canal St-Martin, Artazart is the leading design bookshop in Paris and, along with design and source books, stocks directories, DVDs and CDs in French, English and other languages. Staff are knowledgeable and helpful.

ANTOINE ET LILI Map    Clothing, Household Goods

01 40 37 41 55; www.antoineetlili.com; 95 quai de Valmy, 10e; 10.30am-7pm Mon, to 7.30pm Tue-Fri, 10am-8pm Sat, 12.30-7.30pm Sun; République or Gare de l’Est

Do not – repeat, do not – enter this huge shop, spread through three townhouses facing the Canal St-Martin, with a hangover. The décor (shocking pink, chartreuse, blinding yellow) will have you begging for mercy. All the colours of the rainbow and all the patterns in the world congregate in this wonderful Parisian institution with designer clothing and hip home decorations. It also has a Marais store (Map; 01 42 72 26 60; 51 rue des Francs Bourgeois, 3e; St-Paul), which keeps the same hours.

DARTY Map    Electronics

08 21 08 20 82; www.darty.com, in French; 1 av de la République, 11e; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; République

The best place to seek out adaptors and other electrical goods is the Bazar de l’Hôtel de Ville (BHV;) department store or any branch of the electronics chain Darty, including this outlet at République. There’s also a Ternes branch (Map; 0821 08 20 82; 8 av des Ternes, 17e; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Sat).


top picks
SPECIALITY STREETS
 
  • Rue de Paradis, 10e (Map; Château d’Eau) Crystal, glass and tableware.
  • Rue Drouot, 9e (Map; Richelieu Drouot) Collectable postage stamps.
  • Rue du Pont Louis-Philippe, 4e (Map; Pont Marie) Stationery and fine paper.
  • Rue Keller, 11e (Map; Ledru Rollin) Comic books, mangas, DVDs.
  • Rue Martel, 10e (Map; Château d’Eau) Sewing machines.
  • Rue Victor Massé, 9e (Map; Pigalle) Musical instruments.

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GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY

The upmarket boutiques of Bercy have transformed the 12e and are always packed with shoppers. Elsewhere in the 12e, the area near the Viaduc des Arts (Map) has discerning furniture, antiques and art. The flea market at place d’Aligre is a must.

ALBUM Map    Books, Hobby Items

01 53 33 87 88; www.album.fr, in French; 46 Cour St-Émilion, 12e; 11am-9pm; Cour St-Émilion

Album specialises in bandes dessinées, which have an enormous following in France, with everything from Tintin and Babar to erotic comics and the latest Japanese manga. There are seven more outlets in Paris, including a Latin Quarter branch.

MARCHÉ AUX PUCES D’ALIGRE Map    Flea Market

place d’Aligre & rue d’Aligre, 12e; 7.30am-1.30pm Tue-Sun; Ledru Rollin

Smaller but more central (and, punters say, more trustworthy) than Paris’ other flea markets (opposite), this is one of the best places to rummage through boxes of clothes and accessories worn decades ago by those fashionable (and not-so-fashionable) Parisians, as well as their bric-a-brac.

FERMOB Map    Furniture

01 43 07 17 15; www.fermob.com; 81-83 av Ledru-Rollin, 12e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Ledru Rollin

If you want to create the ‘Jardin du Luxembourg look’ in your own backyard or garden, head for Fermob. It makes French park–style benches and folding chairs in a range of yummy colours – from carrot and vanilla to sage and aubergine.

LA MAISON DU CERF-VOLANT Map     Gifts & Souvenirs

01 44 68 00 75; www.lamaisonducerfvolant.com; 7 rue de Prague, 12e; 11am-7pm Tue-Sat; Ledru Rollin

‘The Kite House’ has just that – kites in every conceivable size, shape, colour and design, and kits with which to make them. You’ll also find quite a nice collection of boomerangs, should you be in the market for one.

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15E ARRONDISSEMENT

Hardly a frantic shopping district, but it is privy to a clutch of specialist addresses.

CODINA Map    Food

01 45 75 00 08; www.codina.net; 24 rue Violet, 15e; 2.30-7pm Tue & Wed, 10am-1pm & 2.30-7pm Thu-Sat; Av Émile Zola

Organic oils (pumpkin seed oil, avocado oil, daisy oil, carrot, cashew and cherry) are made at this sky-blue atelier. Be it your hair or health you need to boost, Codina has something to suit.

MINI PARIS Map    Hobby Items

01 56 77 00 00; www.miniparis.fr, in French; 91-93 av Émile Zola, 15e; 8.30am-7pm Mon-Fri; Charles Michels or Av Émile Zola

Tricky to take a Mini Cooper home, yes, but this showroom is a must – not only for the gorgeous, top-of-the-range convertibles it showcases, but for its interior design. Buy a pedal-powered version of the peppy little cult car for your kid or simply enjoy the glam experience it promises.

VITRA Map    Home Interiors

01 56 77 07 77; www.vitra.com; 40 rue Violet, 15e; 9am-6pm Mon-Thu, to 5pm Fri; Charles Michels or Av Émile Zola

The classics from the history of furniture design can be ogled at in this crisp, white space in life-size or miniature form. Go to the back of this inspiring showroom to fully appreciate its own industrial, glass-roofed design.

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MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE

The area of the 9e and 18e along rue des Martyrs and climbing up rue des Abbesses from metro Pigalle constitutes a good stroll for the patient shopper who wants to enjoy the scenery. You’ll find little designer-clothing shops and a mixed bag of secondhand fashion depots, vintage clothing and records, not to mention some excellent, typically Parisian bakeries and food stores. The rest of the 18e, especially around the less-than-salubrious Goutte d’Or area (rue Myrha and rue de la Goutte d’Or) has cheap fabrics, cut-price fashion, young designers and assorted frippery. Around metro Barbès Rochechouart and blvd Magenta it’s working-class, bargain-basement shopping: take a detour from the glamorous avenues and see how the other half lives.

GASPARD DE LA BUTTE Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 55 99 40; www.gasparddelabutte.com, in French; 10bis rue Yvonne le Tac, 18e; 11am-7.30pm Tue-Sun; Pigalle

This shop specialises in women’s and children’s wear, all locally made with beautiful cottons as well as colourful felts for the infants’ clothing. It’s very ‘Montmartre’ in style – you could imagine Amélie Poulain shopping here.

LA CITADELLE Map    Clothing & Accessories

01 42 52 21 56; 1 rue des Trois Frères, 18e; 11am-8pm Mon-Sat, to 7pm Sun; Abbesses

This designer discount shop hidden away in Montmartre has some real finds from new French, Italian and Japanese designers. Look out for labels like Les Chemins Blancs and Yoshi Kondo.

TATI Map    Department Store

01 55 29 52 20; www.tati.fr, in French; 4 blvd Rochechouart, 18e; 10am-7pm Mon-Fri, 9.15-7pm Sat; Barbès Rochechouart

With its war cry of les plus bas prix (the lowest prices) – and quality to match, some would say – Tati has been Paris’ great working-class department store for more than half a century. Don’t be surprised to see trendy Parisians fighting for bargains hidden in the crammed bins and piled onto tables. There’s a smaller 3e branch (Map; 01 48 87 72 81; 172-174 rue du Temple, 3e; 9.30-7.30pm Mon-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat; Temple or République) as well.

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BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS

Don’t expect to find unusual little boutiques selling all sorts of ephemera beyond central Paris. Instead, head out beyond the blvd Périphérique for the capital’s wonderful flea markets.

MARCHÉ AUX PUCES DE MONTREUIL off Map    Flea Market

av du Professeur André Lemière, 20e; 8am-7.30pm Sat-Mon; Porte de Montreuil

Established in the 19th century, the Montreuil flea market is known for its quality secondhand clothes and designer seconds. The 500-odd stalls also sell engravings, jewellery, linen, crockery, old furniture and appliances.

MARCHÉ AUX PUCES DE ST-OUEN Map     Flea Market

www.parispuces.com; rue des Rosiers, av Michelet, rue Voltaire, rue Paul Bert & rue Jean-Henri Fabre, 18e; 9am-6pm Sat, 10am-6pm Sun, 11am-5pm Mon; Porte de Clignancourt

This vast flea market, founded in the late 19th century and said to be Europe’s largest, has more than 2500 stalls grouped into 10 marchés (market areas), each with its own speciality (eg Marché Serpette and Marché Biron for antiques, Marché Malik for secondhand clothing, the enormous Marché Vernaison for antiques etc). There are miles of modern clothing and ‘freelance’ stalls selling anything from batteries and rusty tools to stolen mobile phones.

LA VALLÉE VILLAGE    Shopping Centre

01 60 42 35 00; www.lavalleevillage.com; 3 cours de la Garonne, Serris; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat May-Sep, to 7pm Mon-Sat Oct-Apr, 11am-7pm Sun

This shopping centre within the Disneyland Resort, 30km east of Paris, contains some 75 big-name outlets (Christian Lacroix, Kenzo, Versace et al) offering discounts on last season’s clothing, accessories and tableware. From Paris, take RER line A4 (€5.60, 30 to 35 minutes) to the Val d’Europe station. Alternatively, Cityrama runs a coach (€19 return) from 4 place des Pyramides, 1er (metro Tuileries) three times weekly, departing at 10.15am and returning at 4pm; book in advance.


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EATING


    HISTORY
    CELEBRATING WITH FOOD
    ETIQUETTE
    STAPLES & SPECIALITIES
    WHERE TO EAT
    VEGETARIANS & VEGANS
    PRACTICALITIES
LOUVRE & LES HALLES
    SELF-CATERING
MARAIS & BASTILLE
    ALSO RECOMMENDED
    SELF-CATERING
THE ISLANDS
    SELF-CATERING
LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES
    SELF-CATERING
ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
    SELF-CATERING
MONTPARNASSE
    SELF-CATERING
FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES
    SELF-CATERING
EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT
    SELF-CATERING
ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
    SELF-CATERING
CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE
    SELF-CATERING
OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS
    SELF-CATERING
GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE
    SELF-CATERING
MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE
    SELF-CATERING
GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY
    SELF-CATERING
13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN
    SELF-CATERING
15E ARRONDISSEMENT
    ALSO RECOMMENDED
    SELF-CATERING
MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE
    SELF-CATERING
BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS
    LA DÉFENSE
    ST-DENIS



top picks
 






What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



French cuisine is the West’s most important and influential style of cooking. With the arguable exception of the Chinese, no other cuisine can compare to French for freshness of ingredients, reliance on natural flavours and the use of refined, often very complex cooking methods. Add to that the typical Parisian’s passion for anything connected with the table and you will soon realise what everyone else here already knows: you are in a gourmet’s paradise.

The very word ‘cuisine’, of course, is French in origin – the English ‘cooking style’ just cannot handle all the nuances – while ‘French’ conjures up a sophisticated, cultured people who know their arts, including gastronomy. While there is only some truth to that notion (not every Parisian is a walking Larousse Gastronomique, the seminal encyclopaedia of French gastronomy), eating well is still of prime importance to most people here, and they continue to spend an inordinate amount of time thinking about, talking about and consuming food.

Do not think for a moment, though, that this national obsession with things culinary and a familiarity with the complexities of haute cuisine (high cuisine) means that eating out or dining in a private home here has to be a ceremonious or even formal occasion, one full of pitfalls for the uninitiated. Indeed, approach food and wine with half the enthusiasm that the Parisians themselves do, and you will be warmly received, tutored, encouraged and well fed.

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HISTORY

Up to the Middle Ages, dining – at least for the wealthier classes and at court in Paris – essentially meant sitting around a large table, sawing off hunks of meat with small knives. Peasants and the urban poor subsisted on bread or dumplings made of rye flour and whatever companaticum (Latin for ‘that which goes with bread’) was available in the cauldron forever stewing over the hearth. Even by the time the first French-language cookbook was published by Charles V’s head chef, Guillaume Tirel (or Taillevent), in about 1375, menus consisted almost entirely of ‘soups’ (or ‘sops’), pieces of bread boiled in a thickened stock, and meat and poultry heavy with the taste of herbs and spices, including new ones like ginger, cinnamon and cloves.

The 16th century was a watershed for French cuisine. When Catherine de Médici, consort to Henri II, arrived in Paris from Florence in 1533, she brought with her a team of chefs and pastry cooks adept in the subtleties of Italian Renaissance cooking. They introduced such delicacies as aspics, truffles, quenelles (dumplings), artichokes, macaroons and puddings to the French court. Catherine’s cousin, Marie de Médici, brought even more chefs to Paris when she married Henri IV in 1600. The French cooks, increasingly aware of their rising social status, took the Italians’ recipes and sophisticated cooking styles on board, and the rest – to the eternal gratitude of epicures everywhere – is history.


SMOKE-FREE PARIS
And they said it could never happen in the capital of a country where more people smoke (and eat more saturated fats and exercise less) than almost anyone else in the developed world. On 1 January 2008 France expanded a year-old ban on smoking in public places (schools, hospitals, offices etc) to include all bars, restaurants, night clubs, and even – sacrè bleu! – sacrosanct cafés. It’s true that, unlike their London equivalents, café and bar owners here have the option of installing a hermetically sealed smoking room covering up to 20% of the café’s surface area, though no food or drink can be served within. And hotel guestrooms – not the lobby or other public spaces – are a separate matter, something that has caused no end of confusion even in the industry (Click here). But one thing is clear: a fag with that café crème or Armagnac is no longer an option (at least indoors). Those of you who still engage in the retro habit of smoking tobacco have two choices: stub out or step out. And, boy, can the rest of us now breathe easy.

France and its capital enjoyed an era of order and prosperity under Henri IV, who famously wished all of his subjects to have a poule au pot (chicken in the pot) every Sunday. Later in the 17th century, the sweet tooth of Louis XIV launched the custom of eating desserts, once reserved for feast days and other celebrations, at the end of a meal.

The most decisive influence on French cuisine at this time, however, was the work of chef François-Pierre de la Varenne (1618–78), who learned his trade in Marie de Médici’s kitchens. La Varenne’s cookbook, Le Cuisinier François (1651), was a gastronomic landmark for many reasons. It was the first to give instructions for preparing vegetables; it introduced soups in the modern sense, with the ‘soup’ being more important than the sops it contained; and it discarded bread and breadcrumbs as thickening agents in favour of roux, a much more versatile mixture of flour and fat. Most importantly, La Varenne downplayed the use of spices, preferring to serve meat in its natural juices sharpened with vinegar or lemon juice. A basic tenet of French cuisine was thus born – to enhance the natural flavours of food in cooking and not to disguise it with heavy seasonings.

The 18th century, the so-called Grand Siècle (Great Century) of reason, brought little enlightenment to the French table apart from dishes and sauces named after lords and other royalty by their sycophantic chefs. This was the century when newfangled foodstuffs from the New World – tomatoes, corn, beans, red pepper and especially the potato so integral today in French cuisine – gained currency, and when the fork became a standard part of the table setting. Most important was the new trend to serve dishes in a logical order rather than heaping them in a pyramid on the table all at the same time (Click here).

This century also saw the birth of the restaurant as we know it today. In 1765 one Monsieur A Boulanger opened a small business in rue Bailleul in the 1er, just off rue de Rivoli, selling soups, broths and, later, that old crowd-pleaser, sheep’s trotters in a white sauce. Above the door he hung a sign to advertise these restaurants (restoratives). Hostelries and inns did exist at the time, but they only served guests set meals at set times and prices from the table d’hôte (host’s table), and cafés only offered drinks. Monsieur Boulanger’s restaurant is thought to have been the first public place where diners could order a meal from a menu that offered a choice of dishes.

During the French Revolution and the ensuing Reign of Terror, the ovens in the kitchens of the great aristocratic households went cold, and their chefs were driven in tumbrels to the guillotine. But a new avenue soon opened to those who managed to escape execution: employment in the kitchens of the hundreds of restaurants opening to the public in Paris. By 1804 Paris counted some 500 eateries. A typical menu at that time included 12 soups, two dozen hors d’oeuvre, between 12 and 30 dishes of beef, veal, mutton, fowl and game, 24 fish dishes, 12 types of pâtisserie (pastries) and 50 desserts.

The first and most important of these new chefs was Marie-Antoine Carême (1784–1833), who set out to establish ‘order and taste’ in French gastronomy and became personal chef to such luminaries as French statesman Talleyrand, England’s Prince Regent and Tsar Alexander I. But to most English speakers, the name Georges-August Escoffier (1846–1935) is more synonymous with haute cuisine. Escoffier, nicknamed ‘the king of chefs and the chef of kings’, was a reformer who simplified or discarded decorations and garnishes, shortened menus and streamlined food preparation in kitchens, having taken his cue from Prosper Montagné, one of the great French chefs of all time and author of Larousse Gastronomique.

The most important development in French gastronomy in the 20th century was the arrival of nouvelle cuisine (new cuisine), a reaction against Escoffier’s grande cuisine (great cuisine). This low-fat style of cooking eliminated many sauces in favour of stock reductions, prepared dishes in such a way as to emphasise the inherent textures and colours of the ingredients, and served them artistically on large plates. Nouvelle cuisine made a big splash in the diet-conscious 1970s and ’80s, when it was also known as cuisine minceur (lean cuisine), and its proponents, including chefs Paul Bocuse, Jean and Pierre Troisgros and Michel Guérard, became the new saints of the grazing faithful from Paris to Perth.

By the turn of the millennium, however, this revolutionary new style of cooking had fallen out of favour and new genres and styles were being developed and explored. First came the concept of fooding, formed by combining the English words ‘food’ and ‘feeling’ and used to describe the art of appreciating not only the contents of your plate but also what’s going on around you – ambience, décor, ‘scene’. Before long it was the word in the mouths of branché (trendy) Parisians and within a year an annual Semaine du Fooding (Fooding Week) was established. Fooding guide books were written, a fooding dictionary published and Le Nouvel Observateur started calling its annual restaurant review ‘Le Guide Fooding’.

But this ‘fusion confusion’ just wasn’t enough and within a few more years journalists at the now defunct lifestyle magazine Zurban were again slicing and dicing words. Their new creation was the term bistronomie, a neologism combining ‘bistro’ and ‘gastronomy’ to describe a new phenomenon that was taking Paris by storm. ‘A group of us were meeting to determine the prizes for Fooding Week,’ said research editor Sébastien Demorand. ‘We wanted a word to describe a restaurant that combined the conviviality and relaxation of a bistrot with the cuisine of a ‘grand restaurant’.’ Today the neo-bistro, usually a small, relatively informal venue serving outstanding cuisine under the tutelage of a talented (and often ‘name’) chef, is the biggest growth industry in Paris. As they say in French: Plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose (the more things change, the more they stay the same).


EATING IN ORDER
At a traditional French meal – be it lunch starting at around 1pm or dinner at about 8.30pm – courses are served as follows:
 
  • Apéritif – a predinner drink
  • Hors d’œuvre – appetisers; cold and/or warm snacks served before the start of the meal
  • Entrée – first course or starter
  • Plat principal – main course
  • Salade – salad, usually a relatively simple green one with vinaigrette dressing
  • Fromage – cheese
  • Dessert – pudding
  • Fruit – sometimes served in place of dessert
  • Café – coffee, almost always drunk black
  • Digestif – digestive; an after-dinner drink

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CELEBRATING WITH FOOD

It may sound facile but food itself makes people here celebrated. There are birthdays and engagements and weddings and christenings and, like everywhere, special holidays, usually based in religion.

One tradition that is very much alive is Le Jour des Rois (Day of the Kings), which falls on 6 January and marks the feast of the Épiphanie (Epiphany), when the Three Wise Men called on the Infant Jesus. A galette des rois (literally ‘kings’ cake’; a puff pastry tart with frangipane cream), which has a little dried bean (or a porcelain figurine) hidden inside and is topped with a gold paper crown, is placed on the table. The youngest person in the room goes under the table and calls out which member of the party should get each slice. The person who gets the bean is named king or queen, dons the crown and chooses his or her consort. This tradition is popular not just among families but also at offices and dinner parties.

At Chandeleur (Candlemas, marking the Feast of the Purification of the Virgin Mary) on 2 February, family and friends gather together in their kitchens to make crêpes de la Chandeleur (sweet Candlemas pancakes).

Pâques (Easter) is marked as elsewhere with œufs au chocolat (chocolate eggs) – here filled with candy fish and chickens – and there is always an egg hunt for the kids. The traditional meal at Easter lunch is agneau (lamb) or jambon de Pâques (Easter ham).

After the dinde aux marrons (turkey stuffed with chestnuts) eaten at lunch on Noël (Christmas), a bÛche de Noël, a ‘Yule log’ of chocolate and cream or ice cream, is served.

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ETIQUETTE

French people do not eat in the clatter/clutter style of the Chinese or with the exuberance and sheer gusto of, say, the Italians. A meal is an artistic and sensual delight to most people here, something to be savoured and enjoyed with a certain amount of style and savoir-vivre. That said, it is easy to cause offence at a French table, and manners here have more to do with common sense than learned behaviour. Still, there are subtle differences in the way French people handle themselves while eating that are worth pointing out.

A French table will be set for all courses at restaurants (not always at home), with two forks, two knives and a large spoon for soup or dessert. When diners finish each course, they cross their knife and fork (not lay them side by side) face down on the plate to be cleared away. If there’s only one knife and fork at your setting, you should place the cutlery back on the table after each course.

At a dinner party courses may not be served in the order to which you are accustomed; salad may follow the main course, for example, and cheese always precedes dessert (see left). A separate plate for bread may or may not be provided. If it is missing, rest the slice on the edge of the main plate or on the tablecloth itself. It is quite acceptable – in fact, encouraged – to sop up sauces and juices with slices of bread, though some people use a fork instead of their hands to do so.

You will not be expected to know the intricacies of how to cut different types of cheese but at least try to remember the basic rules (see opposite). If there are wine glasses of varying sizes at each place setting, the larger one (or ones) will be for red wine (and water), the smaller one for white wine. In general it’s better to wait for the host to pour the wine rather than helping yourself, but this depends on your relationship and the tone of the evening. Tasting the wine in restaurants and pouring it at home have traditionally been male tasks, but these days many women will happily serve and more enlightened sommeliers (wine waiters) will ask which one of a mixed couple would like to try the wine.

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STAPLES & SPECIALITIES

Every nation or culture has its own staples dictated by climate, geography and tradition. French cuisine has long stood apart for its great use of a variety of foods – beef, lamb, pork, poultry, fish and shellfish, cereals, vegetables and legumes – but its three most important staples are bread, cheese and charcuterie (cured, smoked or processed meat – usually pork – products). And as for regional specialities, well, tout est possible (the sky’s the limit).

Staples

The complete list of French staples might include everything from cereals, grains and pulses to jams and honeys but we’ll restrict ourselves to the ‘holy trinity’ of the French kitchen.

BREAD

Nothing is more French than pain (bread). More than 80% of all French people eat it at every meal, and it comes in infinite varieties, some 80 at last count.

All bakeries have baguettes (and the somewhat similar flÛtes), which are long, thin and crusty loaves weighing 250g, and wider loaves of what are simply called pains. A pain, which weighs 400g, is softer on the inside and has a less crispy crust than a baguette. Both types are at their best if eaten within four hours of baking; if you’re not very hungry, ask for a half a loaf: a demi baguette or a demi pain. A ficelle is a thinner, crustier 200g version of a baguette – not unlike a very thick breadstick, really.

Bread has experienced a renaissance here in recent years, and most bakeries also carry heavier, more expensive breads made with all sorts of grains and cereals; you will also find loaves studded with nuts, raisins or herbs. These heavier breads keep much longer than baguettes and standard white-flour breads.


top picks
BAKERIES
 
  • Au Levain du Marais (Map; 01 42 78 07 31; 32 rue de Turenne, 3e; 6.30am-1pm & 3.30-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Chemin Vert)
  • Arnaud Delmontel (Map; 01 48 78 29 33; www.arnaud-delmontel.com, in French; 39 rue des Martyrs, 9e; 7am-8.30pm Mon & Wed-Sat, to 2.30pm Sun; St-Georges)
  • Boulangerie Eric Kayser (Map; 01 44 07 01 42; www.maison-kayser.com, in French; 8 rue Monge, 5e; 7am-8.30pm Wed-Mon; Maubert Mutualité)
  • Boulangerie-Pâtisserie Stéphane Secco (Map; 01 43 17 35 20; 20 rue Jean Nicot, 7e; 8.30am-8.30pm Tue-Sat; La Tour Maubourg)
  • La Fournée d’Augustine (Map; 01 45 43 42 45; 96 rue Raymond-Losserand, 14e; 7.30am-8pm Mon-Sat; Pernety)
  • Poilâne (www.poilane.fr) 6e branch (Map; 01 45 48 42 59; 8 rue du Cherche Midi, 6e; 7.15am-8.15pm Mon-Sat; Sèvres Babylone); 15e branch (Map; 01 45 79 11 49; 49 blvd de Grenelle; Dupleix)

Bread is baked at various times during the day, so it’s available fresh as early as 6am and also in the afternoon. Most bakeries close for one day a week but you’ll always find one open in the neighbourhood – even on Sunday morning

CHEESE

Charles de Gaulle, expostulating on the inability of anyone to unite the French on a single issue after WWII, famously grumbled: ‘You cannot easily unite a country that has 265 kinds of cheese.’ The general’s comments are well out of date; today France counts upwards of 500 varieties of fromage (cheese) made of cow’s, goat’s or ewe’s milk. Bear in mind, though, that there are just five basic types (boxed text), which can be raw, pasteurised or petit-lait (‘little milk’; the whey left over after the milk fats and solids have been curdled with rennet, an enzyme derived from the stomach of a calf or young goat).

When cutting cheese at the table, remember that a small circular cheese such as a Camembert is cut in wedges like a pie. If a larger cheese (eg a Brie) has been bought already sliced into a wedge shape, cut from the tip to the rind; cutting off the top is just not on. Slice cheeses whose middle is the best part (eg blue or veined cheeses) in such a way as to take your fair share of the rind. A flat piece of semi-hard cheese like Emmental is usually just cut horizontally in hunks.


THE FIVE BASIC CHEESE TYPES
The choice on offer at a fromagerie (cheese shop) can be overwhelming, but fromagers (cheese merchants) always allow you to sample what’s on offer before you buy, and are usually very generous with their guidance and pairing advice. The following list divides French cheeses into five main groups – as they are usually divided in a fromagerie – and recommends several types to try.

Fromage à pâte demi-dure ‘Semi-hard cheese’ means uncooked, pressed cheese. Among the finest are Tomme de Savoie, made from either raw or pasteurised cow’s milk; Cantal, a cow’s milk cheese from Auvergne that tastes something like cheddar; Saint Nectaire, a strong-smelling pressed cheese that has both a strong and complex taste; and Ossau-Iraty, a ewe’s milk cheese made in the Basque Country.

Fromage à pâte dure ‘Hard cheese’ is always cooked and pressed in France. Among the most popular are: Beaufort, a grainy cow’s milk cheese with a slightly fruity taste from Rhône-Alpes; Comté, a cheese made with raw cow’s milk in Franche-Comté; Emmental, a cow’s milk cheese made all over France; and Mimolette, an Edam-like bright orange cheese from Lille that can be aged for up to 36 months.

Fromage à pâte molle ‘Soft cheese’ is moulded or rind-washed. Camembert, a classic moulded cheese from Normandy that for many is synonymous with ‘French cheese’, and the refined Brie de Meaux are both made from raw cow’s milk; Munster from Alsace, mild Chaource and strong-smelling Langres from Champagne, and the odorous Époisses de Bourgogne are rind-washed, fine-textured cheeses.

Fromage à pâte persillée ‘Marbled’ or ‘blue cheese’ is so called because the veins often resemble persille (parsley). Roquefort is a ewe’s milk veined cheese that is to many the king of French cheeses. Fourme d’Ambert is a very mild cow’s milk cheese from Rhône-Alpes. Bleu du Haut Jura (also called Bleu de Gex) is a mild, blue-veined mountain cheese.

Fromage de chèvre ‘Goat’s milk cheese’ is usually creamy and both sweet and a little salty when fresh, but hardens and gets much saltier as it matures. Among the best varieties are: Sainte Maure de Touraine, a creamy, mild cheese from the Loire region; Crottin de Chavignol, a classic though saltier variety from Burgundy; Cabécou de Rocamadour from Midi-Pyrenées, often served warm with salad or marinated in oil and rosemary; and Saint Marcellin, a soft white cheese from Lyon.

Wine and cheese are often a match made in heaven. It’s a matter of taste, but in general, strong, pungent cheeses require a young, full-bodied red or a sweet wine, while soft cheeses with a refined flavour call for more quality and age in the wine. Some classic pairings include: Alsatian Gewürztraminer and Munster; Côtes du Rhone red with Roquefort; Côte d’Or (Burgundy) red and Brie or Camembert; and mature Bordeaux with Emmental or Cantal. Even Champagne can get into the act; drink it with Chaource, a mild cheese that smells of mushrooms.

CHARCUTERIE

Traditionally charcuterie is made only from pork, though a number of other meats – from beef and veal to chicken and goose – are now used in making sausages, blood puddings, hams, and other cured and salted meats. Pâtés, terrines and rillettes are essentially charcuterie and are prepared in many different ways.

The difference between a pâté and a terrine is academic: a pâté is removed from its container and sliced before it is served or sold, while a terrine is sliced while still in the container. Rillettes, on the other hand, is potted meat (pork, goose, duck or rabbit) or fish that is not ground, chopped or sliced but shredded, seasoned, mixed with fat and spread cold, like pâté, over bread or toast.

While every region in France produces standard charcuterie favourites as well as its own specialities, Alsace, Lyon and the Auvergne produce the best sausages, and Périgord and the north of France, some of the most popular pâtés. Some very popular types of charcuterie are andouillette (soft raw sausage made from the pig’s small intestines that is grilled and eaten with onions and potatoes), boudin noir (blood sausage or pudding made with pig’s blood, onions and spices, and usually eaten hot with stewed apples and potatoes), jambon (ham, either smoked or salt-cured), saucisse (usually a small fresh sausage that is boiled or grilled before eating), saucisson (usually a large salami eaten cold) and saucisson sec (air-dried salami).

Regional Specialities

As the culinary centre of the most aggressively gastronomic country in the world, Paris has more ‘generic French’, regional and ethnic restaurants, gourmet food shops and markets than any other place in France. Generally speaking, la cuisine parisienne (Parisian cuisine) is a poor relation of that extended family known as la cuisine des provinces (provincial cuisine), and today very few dishes are associated with the capital as such.

The cuisines of Paris and the Île de France surrounding the capital are basically indistinguishable from the cooking of France in general. Dishes associated with these regions are few – vol-au-vent, a light pastry shell filled with chicken or fish in a creamy sauce; potage Saint-Germain, a thick green pea soup; gâteau Paris-Brest, a ring-shaped cake filled with praline (butter cream) and topped with flaked almonds and icing sugar; and the humble onion soup and pig’s trotters described so intimately in Ernest Hemingway’s The Sun Also Rises. Deep-fried potatoes (frites) and other dishes such as steak-frites have always been a Parisian speciality. Today very few dishes are associated with the capital as such, though certain side dishes bear the names of some of its suburbs. boxed text.

The surfeit of other cuisines available in Paris – from Lyonnais and Corsican to Vietnamese and Moroccan – is another story, and will have you spoilt for choice and begging for more.

Diverse though it may be, French cuisine is typified by certain regions, most notably by Normandy, Burgundy, Périgord, Lyon and, to a lesser extent, Alsace, Provence and the Loire region and, still further down the ‘influential regions’ list, the Auvergne, Languedoc, the Basque Country and Corsica. The first four types of regional cuisine can be found in restaurants throughout Paris, while Alsatian choucroute (sauerkraut with sausage and other prepared meats) is the dish of choice at the capital’s many brasseries. La cuisine provençale (Provence cooking) can be somewhat elusive in Paris, though many seafood restaurants claim to do an authentic bouillabaisse (fish soup). Cuisine of the Loire region has made more contributions to what can generically be called French food than any other. Dishes from the last five regions appear on menus from time to time while certain food products can be bought from speciality shops.

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WHERE TO EAT

There are a vast number of eateries in Paris where you can get breakfast or brunch, a full lunch or dinner, and a snack between meals. Most have defined roles, though some definitions are less strict nowadays and some have even become blurred.

Auberge

In the provinces, an auberge (inn), which may also appear as an auberge de campagne or auberge du terroir (country inn), is just that: a restaurant serving traditional country fare attached to a rural inn or small hotel. If you see the word attached to an eatery in Paris, they’re just being cute.

Bar

A bar or bar américain (cocktail bar) is an establishment dedicated to drinking and usually serves only sandwiches or snacks. A bar à vins is a wine bar, which may or may not serve full meals at lunch and dinner. A bar à huîtres is an oyster bar.


SAVOURING THE SUBURBS
The maraîchers (market gardeners) of the Île de France encircling Paris traditionally supplied the capital with fresh produce. Today, while the Île de France is less important agriculturally and encompasses the eight départements that make up the urbanised Région Parisienne (Parisian Region), the green and gentle ‘Island of France’ has clung to many of the products it knows best.
A list of fruits and vegetables from the region reads like a map of the RER: asperges d’Argenteuil (Argenteuil asparagus), carottes de Crécy (Crécy carrots), cerises de Montmorency (Montmorency cherries), fraises de Palaiseau (Palaiseau strawberries), pétales de roses de Provins (Provins rose petals, used to make jam), tomates de Montlhéry (Montlhéry tomatoes), champignons de Paris (Paris mushrooms, grown for – not in – the capital) and so on. A dish served à la parisienne (in the Parisian style) is a combination of vegetables along with potato balls that have been sautéed in butter, glazed in meat drippings and sprinkled with parsley.

Bistro

A bistro (sometimes written bistrot) is not clearly defined in Paris. It can be simply a pub or bar serving snacks and light pub meals, or a fully fledged restaurant.

Brasserie

Unlike the vast majority of restaurants in Paris, brasseries – which can look very much like cafés – serve full meals from morning till 11pm or even later. The featured dishes almost always include choucroute and sausages because the brasserie, which actually means ‘brewery’ in French, originated in Alsace. Most Parisians go to a brasserie as much for the lively atmosphere and the convenience as for the food.

Buffet

A buffet (or buvette) is a kiosk usually found at train stations and airports selling drinks, filled baguettes and snacks.

Café

Cafés are an important focal point for social life in Paris, and sitting in a café to read, write, talk with friends or just daydream is an integral part of many people’s daily life here. Many Parisians see café-sitting – like shopping at outdoor markets – as a way of keeping in touch with their neighbourhood and maximising their chances of running into friends and acquaintances.

The main focus here, of course, is coffee, and only basic food is available at most cafés. Common options include a baguette filled with Camembert or pâté with cornichons (gherkins), a croque-monsieur (grilled ham and cheese sandwich) or a croque-madame (a croque-monsieur topped with a fried egg).

Three factors determine how much you’ll pay in a café: where the café is located, where you are sitting within the café, and what time of day it is. Progressively more expensive tariffs apply at the comptoir or zinc (counter or bar), in the salle (inside seating area) and on the terrasse (pavement terrace), the best vantage point from which to see and be seen. A café on a major boulevard, such as blvd du Montparnasse or the av des Champs-Élysées, will charge considerably more than a place that fronts a quiet side street in the 3e. The price of drinks usually goes up after 8pm.

Ordering a cup of coffee (or anything else, for that matter) earns you the right to occupy the seat for as long as you like. You will never feel pressured to order something else.

You usually run a tab at a café and pay the addition (bill or check) right before you leave. However, if your waiter is going off duty, you may be asked to settle at the end of his or her shift.

Cafétéria

Paris has several chains of cafétérias (cafeteria restaurants), including Flunch, that offer a decent and cheap (menus €6.50 to €8) selection of dishes that you can see before ordering, a factor that can make life easier if you’re travelling with kids.

Crêperie

Crêperies (sometimes seen as galetteries) specialise in crêpes, ultrathin pancakes cooked on a flat surface and then folded or rolled over a filling. Sometimes the word crêpe is used to refer only to sweet crepes made with farine de froment (wheat flour), whereas a savoury crepe, more accurately a galette, is made with farine de sarrasin (buckwheat flour), and filled with cheese, mushrooms, eggs and the like.

Restaurant

The restaurant comes in many guises and price ranges in Paris – from ultrabudget restaurants universitaires (canteens or refectories, Click here) to three-star Michelin restaurants gastronomiques (gourmet restaurants).

An important distinction between a brasserie and a restaurant is that while the former serves food throughout the day, a restaurant is usually open only for lunch and dinner. Almost all restaurants close for at least 1½ days (ie a full day and either one lunch or dinner period) each week, and this schedule is usually posted on the front door. Chain restaurants are usually open throughout the day, seven days a week.

Restaurants generally also post a carte (menu) outside, so you can decide before going in whether the selection and prices are to your liking and/or budget. Most offer at least one fixed-price, multicourse meal known in French as a menu, menu à prix fixe or menu du jour (daily menu). A menu (not to be confused with a carte) almost always costs much less than ordering à la carte.

When you order a three-course menu, you usually get to choose an entrée, such as salad, pâté or soup; a main dish (several meat, poultry or fish dishes, including the plat du jour, or ‘the daily special’, are generally on offer); and one or more final courses (usually cheese or dessert). In some places, you may also be able to order a formule, which allows you to pick two of three courses – an entrée and a main course, say, or a main course and a dessert.

Boissons (drinks), including wine, cost extra unless the menu says boisson comprise (drink included), in which case you may get a beer or a glass of mineral water. If the menu says vin compris (wine included), you’ll probably be served a 25cL pichet (jug) of house red or white. The waiter will always ask if you would like coffee to end the meal, but this will almost always cost extra.

Restaurant meals in Paris are almost always served with bread, which is never accompanied by butter.

Restaurant Libre-Service

A restaurant libre-service is a self-service restaurant not unlike a cafétéria.

Restaurant Rapide

A restaurant rapide is a fast-food place, be it imported (eg McDonald’s) or home-grown ones such as Quick.

Restaurant Universitaire

The University of Paris system has some 14 restaurants universitaires (canteens or refectories) and 20 cafétérias subsidised by the Ministry of Education and operated by the Centre Régional des Œuvres Universitaires et Scolaires, better known as CROUS Click here. They serve very cheap meals (typically under €2.80 for local and visiting students and €6.60 for nonstudents).

Salon de Thé

A salon de thé (tearoom) is a trendy, somewhat pricey establishment that offers quiches, salads, cakes, tarts, pies and pastries, in addition, of course, to black and herbal teas.

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VEGETARIANS & VEGANS

Vegetarians and vegans make up a small minority in a society where viande (meat) once also meant ‘food’, and they are not very well catered for; specialised vegetarian restaurants are few and far between. In fact, the vegetarian establishments that do exist in Paris often look more like laid-back cafés than restaurants. On the bright side, more and more restaurants are offering vegetarian choices on their set menus and produits biologiques (organic products) are all the rage nowadays, even among carnivores. Other options include saladeries, casual restaurants that serve a long list of salades composées (mixed salads).

Many restaurants now have at least a couple of vegetarian dishes on the menu, though it may be one of the starters/first courses. Unfortunately, very few set menus include vegetarian options. Sometimes the only way for vegetarians to assemble a real meal is by ordering one or more side dishes.

Strict vegetarians and vegans should note that most French cheeses are made with rennet, an enzyme derived from the stomach of a calf or young goat, and that some red wines (especially Bordeaux) are clarified with the albumin of egg whites.

The trade of produits sans chimiques (products without additives) or produits biologiques, usually abbreviated to bio is carefully government-regulated and very much on the increase in France.

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PRACTICALITIES

Breakfast

What the French call petit déjeuner is not every Anglo-Saxon’s cup of tea. For many, a croissant with butter and jam and a cup of milky coffee do not a breakfast make. Masters of the kitchen throughout the rest of the day, French chefs don’t seem up to it in the morning. But there’s method to their meanness; the whole idea is not to fill up – petit déjeuner means ‘little lunch’, and the real déjeuner (lunch) is just around the corner!

In the Continental style, people here traditionally start the day with a bread roll or a bit of baguette left over from the night before, eaten with butter and jam and followed by a café au lait (coffee with lots of hot milk), a small black coffee or even a hot chocolate. Some people also eat cereal, toast, fruit and even yoghurt in the morning – something they never did in the past. Commuters will often eschew breakfast at home altogether, opting for a quick coffee and a sweet roll at a train station kiosk or at their desk in the office.

Contrary to what many foreigners think, Parisians do not eat croissants every day but usually reserve these for a treat at the weekend, when they may also choose brioches (small roll or cake sometimes flavoured with nuts, currants or candied fruits), pains au chocolat (chocolate-filled brioche) or other viennoiserie (baked goods).

Lunch & Dinner

Many Parisians still consider déjeuner (lunch) to be the main meal of the day. Restaurants generally serve it between noon and 2.30pm (or 3pm) and dîner (dinner or supper) from 7.30pm to sometime between 10pm and midnight. With the exception of brasseries, cafés and fast-food places, very few restaurants are open between lunch and dinner. The vast majority of restaurants close on Sunday; in August, when most Parisians flee for the beaches or the mountains, many restaurateurs lock up and leave town along with their customers.

As the pace of life is as hectic here as it is elsewhere in the industrialised world nowadays, the two-hour midday meal has become increasingly rare, at least during the week. Dinner, however, is still turned into an elaborate affair whenever time and finances permit. A fully fledged traditional French meal at home is an awesome event, often comprising six distinct plats (courses; Click here). They are always served with wine – red, white or rosé, depending on what you’re eating. A meal in a restaurant almost never consists of more than three courses: the entrée (starter or first course), the plat principal (main course) and dessert or cheese.

Snacks

Though Parisians may snack or eat between meals, they do not seem to go in for street food; hot dogs stands and noodle carts are nowhere to be seen and eating in public is considered somewhat anglo-saxon (English or American) and thus rude. You may encounter a crepe-maker on a busy street corner in Bastille, Marais or the Latin Quarter, or someone selling roasted châtaignes (chestnuts) in autumn and winter, but generally people will duck into a café for un truc à grignoter (something to nibble on) or a patisserie for a slice of something sweet to be eaten on the trot.

Opening Hours

Restaurants generally open from noon to 2.30pm or 3pm for lunch and from 7pm or 7.30pm to between 10pm and midnight for dinner. Only brasseries serve full meals continuously throughout the day (usually from 11am or noon to as late as 1am). National and local laws require that restaurants close for 1½ days a week and that employees work no more than 35 hours a week (though exceptions can be made). That means most eateries will be shut for a full day and (usually) an afternoon. Be advised that the vast majority of restaurants in Paris close on Sunday – there’s a distressing tendency for many to shut down for the entire weekend. Supermarkets are generally open from 8.30am or 9am to 8pm Monday to Saturday, with a few open Sunday (9am to 12.30pm or 1pm). Due to the quirkiness of restaurant opening hours, we have listed them under each review.

How Much?

When it comes to eating out in Paris, the question ‘How much?’ is like asking ‘How long is a piece of string?’ It all depends… A three-course dinner menu (fixed-price meal with two or three courses) can be had for as little as €12 at budget places, and one-plate plats du jour (daily specials) at lunch are sometimes available for under €10. On the other hand, three courses for lunch at Le Grand Véfour Click here overlooking the Jardin du Palais Royal will set you back €88, and dinner is more than three times that amount.

In general, however, you should be able to enjoy a substantial sit-down lunch for under around €12/€20 at a budget/medium-priced restaurant and an excellent three-course dinner with wine for around €35.

Lower-priced good-value menus that are available at lunch only (and usually just on weekdays) are noted as such throughout the chapter. Generally, higher-priced menus are available at dinner.

Booking Tables

It is always advisable to book in advance at midrange restaurants and absolutely mandatory at top-end ones. If you do arrive at a restaurant without a reservation, you will be treated more seriously if you state the number of couverts (covers) required upon entry rather than referring to the number of places. If you’re a party of two, ask Avez-vous deux couverts?

Paying the Bill & Tipping

With the exception of cafeterias, service restaurants and the like, most eateries in Paris take credit cards, though there is usually a minimum charge of €20. A hand-held machine used to verify your credit card and payment is brought to the table, where the transaction takes place; if your card has a chip (puce in French) you will almost surely require a PIN number. Always check your bill before paying: small ‘mistakes’ do happen from time to time in Paris.


CHEAP EATS
Along with the less-expensive places listed at the end of each neighbourhood in this chapter, French chain and university restaurants offer excellent value for those counting their euros.
Fast-Food & Chain Restaurants
American fast-food chains have busy branches all over Paris, as does the local hamburger chain Quick (www.quick.fr in French). In addition, a number of local chain restaurants have outlets around Paris with standard menus. They are definitely a cut above fast-food outlets and can be good value in areas such as the av des Champs-Élysées, where restaurants tend to be overpriced.
Bistro Romain (www.bistroromain.fr in French; starters €4.90-17.10, pasta €13.30-16.40, mains €14.30-19.40, menu €12.50-33.60; 11am-midnight Sun-Thu, to 1am Fri & Sat) This ever-popular Italian-ish bistro-restaurant chain, which has some 14 branches in Paris proper and another nine in the banlieues (suburbs), is a surprisingly upmarket place for its price category, and service is always pleasant and efficient. The Champs-Élysées branch (Map; 01 43 59 93 31; 122 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; George V), one of a pair along the city’s most famous thoroughfare, is a stone’s throw from place Charles de Gaulle and the Arc de Triomphe.

Buffalo Grill (www.buffalo-grill.fr; starters €4.20-10, mains €9.70-20.20, menu from €9.10; 11am-11pm Sun-Thu, to midnight Fri & Sat) This successful chain has nine branches in Paris, including the Gare du Nord branch (Map; 01 40 16 47 81; 9 blvd de Denain, 10e; Gare du Nord). Not surprisingly, the emphasis here is on grills and steak – everything from Canadian bison burgers (€10.50) to a huge entrecôte cowboy steak (€17.60).

Hippopotamus (www.hippopotamus.fr in French; starters €4.80-9.90, mains €11.50-24.50, menu €15.50-29.50; 11.45am-12.30am Sun-Thu, to 1am Fri & Sat) This spreading chain, which has 20 branches in Paris proper, specialises in solid, steak-based meals. Three of the outlets here stay open to 5am daily, including Opéra branch (Map; 01 47 42 75 70; 1 blvd des Capucines, 2e; Opéra).

Léon de Bruxelles (www.leon-de-bruxelles.com in French; starters €5.30-9.90, mains €10.50-16, menu €11.20-15.90; 11.45am-11pm) At Léon the focus is on one thing and one thing only: moules (mussels). Meal-size bowls of the meaty bivalves, served with chips and bread, start at about €10.50 and are exceptionally good value, especially at lunch. There are 9 Léons in Paris, including the Les Halles branch (Map; 01 42 36 18 50; 120 rue Rambuteau, 1er; Châtelet-Les Halles).

University Canteens
Stodgy but filling cafétéria food is available in copious quantities at Paris’ 14 restaurants universitaires (student restaurants). Another 20 cafeterias (sometimes in the same building) serve drinks, snacks and lighter meals from 8am to between 3pm and 6pm on weekdays. Tickets for three-course meals at Paris’ university restaurants are €2.80 for local students with a French university or college ID card and visiting students with an ISIC or youth card and €6.60 for guests accompanied by a CROUS cardholder.
Centre Régional des Œuvres Universitaires et Scolaires (CROUS; 01 40 51 36 00; www.crous-paris.fr in French) restaurants (usually called restos U) have variable hours that change according to university holiday schedules and weekend rotational agreements; check the schedule posted outside any of the following or the CROUS website for current times. The only one open all year and on Sunday (for brunch) is Bullier.
Branches include Bullier (Map; 01 40 51 37 85; 39 av Georges Bernanos, 5e; 11.30am-2pm & 6.30-8pm daily; Port Royal); Censier (Map; 01 45 35 41 24; 31 rue Geoffroy St-Hilaire, 5e; 11am-2.30pm Mon-Fri; Censier Daubenton or Jussieu); Châtelet (Map; 01 43 31 51 66; 10 rue Jean Calvin, 5e; 11.30am-2pm Mon-Fri; Censier Daubenton); Mabillon (Map; 01 43 25 66 23; 3 rue Mabillon, 6e; 11.30am-2.30pm & 6-8pm; Mabillon); and Mazet (Map; 01 46 34 23 83; 5 rue André Mazet, 6e; 11.30am-2pm Mon-Fri; Odéon).

Many French people traditionally felt that ‘going Dutch’ (ie splitting the bill) at restaurants was an uncivilised custom, and in general the person who did the inviting would do the paying. That may still happen but nowadays close friends and colleagues will usually share the cost equally. They never calculate it down to the last euro and centime, however.

French law requires that restaurant and café bills include the service charge, which is usually between 12% and 15%. But a word of warning is in order. Service compris (service included, sometimes abbreviated as ‘sc’ at the bottom of the bill) means that the service charge is built into the price of each dish; service non-compris (service not included) or service en sus (service in addition) means that the service charge is calculated after the food and/or drink you’ve consumed has been added up. In either case you pay only the total of the bill so a pourboire (tip) on top of that is neither necessary nor expected in most cases. However, many Parisians will leave a few coins on the table in a restaurant, unless the service was particularly bad. They rarely tip in cafés and bars when they’ve just had a coffee or a drink, however.

Self-Catering

Most people in Paris buy a good part of their food from a series of small neighbourhood shops, each with its own speciality, though as everywhere more and more people are relying on supermarkets and hypermarkets these days. Having to go to four shops and stand in four queues to fill the fridge (or assemble a picnic) may seem rather a waste of time, but the whole ritual is an important part of the way many Parisians live their daily lives. And as each commerçant (shopkeeper) specialises in purveying only one type of food, he or she can almost always provide all sorts of useful tips: which round of Camembert is ripe, which wine will complement a certain food, which type of pot to cook rabbit in and so on. In any case, most products for sale at charcuteries (delicatessens), pâtisseries (pastry shops) and traiteurs (caterers) or charcuteries-traiteurs (delicatessens/caterers) are clearly marked and labelled.

As these stores are geared to people buying small quantities of fresh food each day, it’s perfectly acceptable to purchase only meal-size amounts: a few tranches (slices) of meat to make a sandwich, perhaps, or a petit bout (small hunk) of sausage. You can also request just enough for une/deux personne(s) (one/two persons). If you want a bit more, ask for encore un petit peu, and if you are being given too much, say ‘C’est trop’.

Fresh bread is baked and sold at boulangeries; mouth-watering pastries are available at pâtisseries; a fromagerie can supply you with cheese that is fait (ripe) to the exact degree that you request; a charcuterie offers sliced meat, pâtés and so on; and fresh fruit and vegetables are sold at épiceries (greengrocers), supermarkets and open-air markets.

A boucherie is a general butcher, but for specialised poultry you have to go to a marchand de volaille. A boucherie chevaline, easily identifiable by the gilded horse’s head above the entrance, sells horse meat, which some people prefer to beef or mutton. Fresh fish and seafood are available from a poissonnerie.

Neighbourhood markets are equally a part of life here. If on a Saturday morning you notice throngs of basket-toting people passing you by with great determination, and others, laden down with bags, going the opposite direction in a more relaxed pace, then by all means follow the crowds, as you have stumbled upon the most Parisian of weekend pastimes: shopping at the marché alimentaire (food market). Bear in mind, though, that when buying fruit and vegetables, you should not touch the produce unless invited to do so. Indicate to the shopkeeper what you want and he or she will choose for you.

The city’s marchés découverts (open-air markets) – some 70 of which pop up in public squares around the city two or three times a week – are usually open from about 7am or 8am to 2pm or 3pm, depending on the time of year. The dozen or so marchés couverts (covered markets) keep more regular hours: 8am to 1pm and 3.30pm or 4pm to 7pm or 7.30pm from Tuesday to Saturday and till lunch time on Sunday. Completing the picture are numerous independent rues commerçantes, pedestrian streets where the shops set up outdoor stalls. To find out when there’s a market near you, check out the list opposite, enquire at your hotel or hostel or ask anyone who lives in the neighbourhood. Also, self-catering details are included at the end of neighbourhood sections in this chapter.

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LOUVRE & LES HALLES

The area between Forum des Halles (1er) and the Centre Pompidou (4e) is filled with a number of trendy restaurants, but most of them cater mostly to tourists and few of them are especially good. Streets lined with places to eat include rue des Lombards, the narrow streets to the north and east of Forum des Halles and pedestrian-only rue Montorgueil, a market street that’s probably your best bet for something quick. In addition, there are several worthwhile places in the passages couverts (covered shopping arcades; Click here).


TO MARKET, TO MARKET
The following is a list of Paris markets selected according to the variety of their produce, their ethnicity and the neighbourhood. They are la crème de la crème of what’s on offer in Paris.

Marché aux Enfants Rouges (Map; 39 rue de Bretagne, 3e; 9am-2pm & 4-8pm Tue-Thu, 9am-8pm Fri & Sat, 9am-2pm Sun; Filles du Calvaire) This covered market south of place de la République has ethnic (Italian, Japanese etc) stalls as well as French ones.

Marché Bastille (Map; blvd Richard Lenoir, 11e; 7am-2.30pm Tue & Sun; Bastille or Richard Lenoir) Stretching as far north as the Richard Lenoir metro station, this is arguably the best open-air market in Paris, with a fair number of ethnic food stalls now in attendance.

Marché des Batignolles (Map; blvd des Batignolles btwn rue des Batignolles & rue Puteaux, 8e & 17e; 9am-2pm Sat; Place de Clichy or Rome) This was the first of Paris’ marchés biologiques (organic markets).

Marché Beauvau (Map; place d’Aligre, 12e; 8am-1pm & 4-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 8am-1pm Sun; Ledru Rollin) This covered market remains a colourful Arab and North African enclave not far from Bastille.

Marché Belleville (Map; blvd de Belleville btwn rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud & rue du Faubourg du Temple, 11e & 20e; 7am-2.30pm Tue & Fri; Belleville or Couronne) This market offers a fascinating (and easy) entry into the large, vibrant ethnic communities of the quartiers de l’est (eastern neighbourhoods), home to African, Middle Eastern and Asian immigrants as well as artists and students.

Marché Brancusi (Map; place Constantin Brancusi, 14e; 9am-2pm Sat; Vavin) This weekly open-air market specialises in organic produce.

Marché Grenelle (Map; blvd de Grenelle btwn rue de Lourmel & rue du Commerce, 15e; 7am-2.30pm Wed & Sun; La Motte-Picquet Grenelle) Arranged below an elevated railway and surrounded by stately Haussmann boulevards and Art Nouveau apartment blocks, the Grenelle market attracts a posh clientele.

Marché Maubert (Map; place Maubert, 5e; 7am-2.30pm Tue, Thu & Sat; Maubert Mutualité) This market, spread over a small triangle of intersecting streets, reigns over St-Germain des Prés, the poshest part of the bohemian 5e.

Marché Monge (Map; place Monge, 5e; 7am-2pm Wed, Fri & Sun; Place Monge) This is one of the better open-air neighbourhood markets on the Left Bank.

Marché Président Wilson (Map; av du Président Wilson btwn rue Debrousse & place d’Iéna, 16e; 7am-2.30pm Wed & Sat; Iéna or Alma Marceau) This upscale market attracts a well-heeled crowd from the 16e.

Marché Raspail (Map; blvd Raspail btwn rue de Rennes & rue du Cherche Midi, 6e; 7am-2.30pm Tue & Sun; Rennes) This traditional open-air market north of Rennes metro station features organic produce on Sunday.

Marché St-Charles (Map; rue St-Charles btwn rue de Javel & rond-point St-Charles, 15e; 7am-2.30pm Tue & Fri; Charles Michels) This market may appear somewhat far-flung off in the western 15e, but shoppers will go any distance for its quality produce, including organic goods.

Marché St-Quentin (Map; 85bis blvd de Magenta, 10e; 8am-1pm & 3.30-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 8am-1pm Sun; Gare de l’Est) This iron-and-glass covered market, built in 1866, is a maze of corridors lined mostly with gourmet and upmarket food stalls.

Rue Cler (Map; rue Cler, 7e; 7am or 8am-7pm or 7.30pm Tue-Sat, 8am-noon Sun; École Militaire) This commercial street in the 7e is a breath of fresh air in a sometimes stuffy quartier and can almost feel like a party at the weekend when the whole neighbourhood turns out en masse.

Rue Montorgueil (Map; rue Montorgueil btwn rue de Turbigo & rue Réaumur, 2e; 8am-7.30pm Tue-Sat, to noon Sun; Les Halles or Sentier) This rue commerçante is the closest market to Paris’ 700-year-old wholesale market, Les Halles, which was moved from this area to Rungis in 1969.

Rue Mouffetard (Map; rue Mouffetard around rue de l’Arbalète, 5e; 8am-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 8am-noon Sun; Censier Daubenton) Rue Mouffetard is the city’s most photogenic commercial market street and it’s the place where Parisians send tourists (travellers go to Marché Bastille).

Rue Poncelet & Rue Bayen (Map; rue Poncelet & rue Bayen, 17e; 9am-1pm & 4-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 8am-1pm Sun; Ternes) This rue commerçante caters to the flush denizens of the 16e and 17e arrondissements.

Those in search of Asian food flock to rue Ste-Anne and other streets of Paris’ so-called Japantown, which is just west of the Jardin du Palais Royal. There are also some good-value restaurants serving other Asian cuisines in the area.

LE GRAND VÉFOUR Map    French €€€

01 42 96 56 27; www.grand-vefour.com; 17 rue de Beaujolais, 1er; starters €79-92, mains €85-102, menus €88 (lunch only) & €268; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 9.30pm Mon-Thu; Pyramides

This 18th-century jewel on the northern edge of the Jardin du Palais Royal has been a dining favourite of the Parisian elite since 1784; just look at who gets their names ascribed to each table – from Napoleon to Victor Hugo and Colette (who lived next door). The food is tiptop; expect a voyage of discovery in one of the most beautiful restaurants in the world.

GEORGES Map    International €€€

01 44 78 47 99; www.centrepompidou.fr; 6th fl, Centre Pompidou, place Georges Pompidou, 4e; starters €20, mains €40; lunch & dinner to 1am Wed-Mon; Rambuteau

Encased in aluminium sheeting with modular arctic-white seats, the Pompidou Centre’s hyperindustrial dining room offers pretty predictable and expensive Coste food – most people go for the tuna tartare or avocado and crab salad (€20 to €22) or the steak with the Asianesque name Le Tigre qui Pleure (The Crying Tiger). But this place is really all about the stunning views over Paris’ rooftops, especially from its terrace.

LE VAUDEVILLE Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 40 20 04 62; www.vaudevilleparis.com; 29 rue Vivienne, 2e; starters €8.50-17.50, mains €18-39, menus €24 & €31; lunch & dinner to 1am; Bourse

This stunning brasserie opposite the stock exchange is to Art Deco what the Bouillon Racine is to Art Nouveau. OK, the food – steaks, fish, oysters – might be something of an afterthought, but at least you can be guaranteed a certain standard. Come for the fabulous décor – engraved glass, extravagant lighting, domed ceiling and intricate ironwork – designed in the 1920s by the Solvet brothers, who also did La Coupole.

AUX CRUS DE BOURGOGNE Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 42 33 48 24; 3 rue Bachaumont, 2e; starters €7-25, mains €13.50-38, menu €29; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri; Les Halles or Sentier

A favourite of André Malraux, this bistro dating back to 1900 on a pedestrian street just off busy rue Montorgueil has a penchant for fish and seafood – especially lobster (half a lobster with mayonnaise is €25). As its name implies, Burgundy is the wine of choice. A real plus in the warmer months is the open terrace, which allows you to enjoy your crustaceans without a side order of exhaust fumes.

AU DAUPHIN Map    French, Basque €€€

01 42 60 40 11; 167 rue St-Honoré, 1er; menus €20 & €27 (lunch only), €38; lunch & dinner to 10.15pm; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

The force behind this unassuming bistro facing place André Malraux and Palais Royal is two pedigreed chefs from Biarritz (on the southwest coast) who have brought the flavours of the Basque country and the coastal Landes region to Paris. There are two hard-to-choose routes through the menu – the first being jars of wonderful rustic starters such as lapereau à la grand-mère (young rabbit in mushroom cream sauce), rillettes (shredded potted meat) and foie gras, to be shared with excellent bread, while the other offers combinations of classic Spanish parrillada (mixed grill).

AU PIED DE COCHON Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 40 13 77 00; www.pieddecochon.com; 6 rue Coquillère, 1er; starters €7.90-18.50, mains €16.50-35, 2-/3-course menus €19.50/24; 24hr; Les Halles

This venerable establishment, which once satisfied the appetites of both market porters and theatre-goers with its onion soup and pieds de cochon (pig’s feet or trotters), has become more uniformly upmarket and touristy since Les Halles was moved to the suburbs, but it still opens round the clock seven days a week. Generous breakfasts are a snip at €11.50.

CAFÉ MODERNE Map    French €€€

01 53 40 84 10; www.cafemoderne.fr; 40 rue Notre Dames des Victoires, 2e; 2-/3-course menus €28/34; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Bourse

Located just opposite the Bourse, the ‘Modern Café’ feels more New York than Paris but so much the better for that. The food on offer is contemporary rather than classic bistro; the fish dishes are particularly recommended, as is the wonderful millefeuille of pastry, cream and fresh fruit.

L’ARDOISE Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 42 96 28 18; www.lardoise-paris.com; 28 rue du Mont Thabor, 1er; menu €33; lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; Concorde or Tuileries

This is a lovely little bistro with no menu as such (ardoise means ‘blackboard’, which is all there is), but who cares? The food – hare in black pepper and beef fillet with morels, prepared dextrously by chef Pierre Jay (ex-Tour d’Argent) – is superb and the three-course prix fixe (set menu) offers good value. L’Ardoise is bound to attract a fair number of tourists due to its location, but generally they too are on a culinary quest.

CAFÉ MARLY Map    French, Café €€€

01 46 26 06 60; cour Napoléon du Louvre, 93 rue de Rivoli, 1er; starters €8-25, mains €19-31; 8am-2am; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

This classic venue facing the Louvre’s inner courtyard serves contemporary French fare throughout the day under the palace colonnades. The views of the glass pyramid are priceless – if you don’t know you’re in Paris now, you never will – and depending on how au courant (familiar) you are with French starlets and people who appear in Match, you should get an eyeful. Decent pastas are €17 to €24 while sandwiches and snacks are from €12 to €20.

DROUANT Map    French €€€

01 42 65 15 16; www.drouant.com; 16-18 place Gaillon, 2e; starters €20, mains €30; menus €42 (lunch only), €40 & €52; lunch & dinner to midnight; Quatre September

If you’re something of a literary groupie, you’ve just got to make your way to the restaurant where they award the Prix Goncourt, France’s equivalent of the Booker or Pulitzer. Of course you might also come for the food, prepared by Alsatian chef Antoine Westerman, who cut his teeth at the Mon Vieil Ami. Food comes bite-sized and in lots of four; think tapas and get ready to share.


PRICE GUIDE
The symbols below indicate the cost per main course at the restaurant in question.

€          under €10

€€         €10-24

€€€       over €25

MACÉO Map    International €€€

01 42 97 53 85; www.maceorestaurant.com; 15 rue des Petits Champs, 1er; starters €11-18, mains €26-30, menus €30 (lunch only), €37 & €46; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Pyramides

From the people who brought us Willi’s Wine Bar comes this very upper-crust restaurant housed in a former brothel with Second Empire décor; it’s one of the most attractive dining rooms in Paris. The cuisine is innovative and there is a very sophisticated (and very unusual) vegetarian menu.

LE GRAND COLBERT Map    French €€€

01 42 86 87 88; www.legrandcolbert.fr; 2-4 rue Vivienne, 2e; starters €10-21.50, mains €19.50-30, menus €32 (lunch only) & €39; noon-3am; Pyramides

This former workers’ cafétéria transformed into a fin de siècle showcase is more relaxed than many similarly restored restaurants and a convenient spot for lunch if visiting Galerie Vivienne and Galerie Colbert or cruising the streets late at night (last orders: 1am). Don’t expect gastronomic miracles, but portions are big and service is friendly.

JOE ALLEN Map    American €€€

01 42 36 70 13; www.joeallenrestaurant.com; 30 rue Pierre Lescot, 1er; starters €7.50-10.30, mains €15.50-26, menus €13.90 (lunch only), €18 & €22.50; noon-1am; Étienne Marcel

An institution in Paris since 1972, Joe Allen is a little bit of New York in Paris, with a great atmosphere and a good selection of Californian wines. There’s an excellent brunch (€19.50 to €23.50) from noon to 4pm at the weekend, where many can be seen slumped over a Bloody Mary and trying to make sense of the night – or was that the morning? – before. The food is simple but finely prepared; the ribs (€17) are particularly recommended and some people think Joe Allen serves the best hamburgers in town.


SWEET MEMORIES
Parisians love sucreries (sweet things) and fruit and, judging from the eye-catching and saliva-inducing window displays at pastry shops throughout the city, they can’t get enough of either in combination. The following are some of our favourite pâtisseries in Paris, but be warned: the list is not comprehensive. For a more complete rundown, consult the informative (and mouth-wateringly attractive) The Pâtisseries of Paris by Jamie Cahill.

Dalloyau (Map; 01 48 87 89 88; www.dalloyau.fr; 3 blvd Beaumarchais, 4e; 9am-9pm; Bastille) Specialities include pain aux raisins (raisin bread), millefeuille (pastry layered with cream) and tarte au citron (lemon tart). There’s also a 8e branch (Map; 01 42 99 90 00; 101 rue du Faubourg St-Honoré, 8e; 8.30am-9pm; St-Philippe du Roule).

Florence Finkelsztajn (Map; 01 48 87 92 85; 24 rue des Écouffes, 4e; 10am-7pm Thu-Tue; St-Paul) Dating back to 1932, this pâtisserie has scrumptious Jewish and Central European–style breads and pastries, including apple strudel and poppy-seed cakes.

Gérard Mulot (Map; 01 43 26 85 77; www.gerard-mulot.com in French; 76 rue de Seine, 6e; 9.30am-8.30pm Thu-Tue; Odéon or Mabillon) Specialities include various fruit tarts (peach, lemon, apple), tarte normande (apple cake) and mabillon (caramel mousse with apricot conserves).

Jean Millet (Map; 01 45 51 49 80; 103 rue St-Dominique, 7e; 9am-7pm Mon-Sat, 8am-1pm Sun; École Militaire) Specialities include délice au chocolat praliné (a heavenly almond and chocolate concoction) and bavarois d’abricots (a cold, moulded mousse dessert of cream and apricot fruit purée).

La Fougasse (Map; 01 42 72 36 80; 25 rue de Bretagne, 3e; 7am-8pm Tue-Sat, 7am-2pm Sun; Filles du Calvaire) Come here for the scrumptious marrons glacés (candied chestnuts) & tarte aux abricots (apricot tart).

Ladurée (Map; 01 40 75 08 75; www.laduree.fr in French; 75 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 7.30am-11pm Mon-Fri, 8.30-midnight Sat & Sun; George V) Specialities include macarons au chocolat (chocolate macaroons) and macarons à la pistache (pistachio macaroons).

Le Nôtre (Map; 01 53 01 91 91; www.lenotre.fr in French; 10 rue St- Antoine, 4e; 9am-9.30pm; Bastille) This branch of the famous traiteur chain at the corner of rue des Tournelles has some of the most delectable pastries and chocolate in Paris. There are a dozen other outlets sprinkled across the capital.
Stohrer (Map; 01 42 33 38 20; www.stohrer.fr in French; 51 rue Montorgueil, 2e; 7.30am-8.30pm; Les Halles or Sentier) Specialities include galette des rois (kings’ cake; puff pastry with frangipane cream) and marrons glacées (candied chestnuts).

AUX LYONNAIS Map    French, Lyonnais €€€

01 42 96 65 04; www.alainducasse.fr; 32 rue St-Marc, 2e; starters €11-14, mains €21-25, menu €30; lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Richelieu Drouot

This is where Alain Ducasse (who’s got three Michelin stars at his restaurant over at the Plaza Athénée) and his followers ‘slum’ it. The venue is an Art Nouveau masterpiece that feels more real than movie set and the food is restructured Lyonnais classics on the short, seasonal menu; any item based on cochon (pig) comes with an ironclad guarantee to satisfy and everything goes well with Beaujolais. Two complaints: there are too many covers in the small space and service is rushed and impersonal.

CHEZ LA VIEILLE Map    French €€€

01 42 60 15 78; 1 rue Bailleul, 1er; starters €15-21, mains €18-25, menu €23 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 9.45pm Mon, Tue, Thu & Fri; Louvre-Rivoli

This favourite little restaurant on the corner of rue de l’Arbre à Sec, ‘At the Old Lady’s’ is on two floors, but don’t expect a slot on the more rustic ground floor; that’s reserved for regulars. The small menu reflects the size of the place but is universally sublime. Try the excellent terrine maison and poitrine de veau confit (veal breast confit; €21).

L’ÉPI D’OR Map    French, Bistro €€

01 42 36 38 12; 25 rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 1er; starters €6.50-16, mains €18-24, 2-/3-course menus €19/23; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat; Louvre-Rivoli

‘The Golden Sword’ has been an institution since the belle époque, when it would open at 10pm to serve the ‘forts des halles’, the brutes who stacked the ‘devils’, huge bags of potatoes and cabbage, all night at the old Marché des Halles. Today it’s an oh-so-Parisian bistro with 1940s décor and well-prepared, classic dishes – gigot d’agneau (leg of lamb) cooked for seven hours, magret de canard (sliced duck breast) – to a surprisingly well-heeled crowd. The menus are available at lunch and till 9pm only.

RESTAURANT DU THÉÂTRE Map    French, Bistro €€

01 42 97 59 46; 36 rue de Montpensier, 1er; starters €9.50-16, mains €16-22, menus €30 & €38; lunch & dinner to 8.30pm Tue-Fri, to 10pm Sat; Pyramides

This civilised bistro and wine bar facing the Jardin du Palais Royal is next door to the little-known Théâtre du Palais Royal. It’s a convenient spot if visiting the passages couverts around Palais Royal or even the Louvre and is best entered via 67 Galerie de Montpensier. The plat du jour is €17.

COMPTOIR DE LA GASTRONOMIE Map    French €€

01 42 33 31 32; www.comptoir-gastronomie.com, in French; 34 rue Montmartre, 1er; starters €7-14, mains €16-22; 11am-11pm Mon-Sat, noon-4pm; Les Halles

This striking Art Nouveau establishment, here since 1894, has an elegant dining room where dishes are constructed around delicacies such as foie gras, truffles and caviar. The adjoining épicerie fine (specialist grocer; 6am-11pm Mon-Sat, to 4pm Sun) stocks a scrumptious array of gourmet goods to take home.

CAFÉ BEAUBOURG Map    French, International €€

01 48 87 63 96; 100 rue St-Martin, 4e; starters €8-14, mains €15-22; 8am-1am Sun-Wed, to 2am Thu-Sat; Châtelet-Les Halles

This upbeat minimalist café across from the Centre Pompidou has been drawing a well-heeled crowd for breakfast and brunch (from €13 to €24) on its terrace for over 20 years now. Bonus: there’s always free entertainment on the parvis (large square) just opposite.

LE PETIT MÂCHON Map    French, Lyonnais €€

01 42 60 08 06; 158 rue St-Honoré, 1er; starters €7-12.50, mains €14-22; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

Close to the Louvre, this upbeat bistro serves some of the best Lyons-inspired specialities in town and the welcome is always warm. It takes its name from a Burgundian variety of galette des rois (kings’ cake), a puff pastry filled with frangipane cream that is eaten at Epiphany (Twelfth night; Click here).

DJAKARTA BALI Map    Indonesian €€

01 45 08 83 11; www.djakarta-bali.com; 9 rue Vauvilliers, 1er; starters €10.50-14.50, mains €11-22; dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; Louvre Rivoli

OK, it might look like Hollywood’s idea of an Indonesian restaurant with all those Balinese handicrafts adorning the walls, but this is the real thing, run by the progeny of an Indonesian diplomat exiled when President Sukarno was overthrown in 1967. If you think you can handle it, order one of four rijstafels (Dutch for ‘rice table’), priced from €20 to €45: they are feasts of between seven and 10 courses that just won’t stop coming. Those with nut allergies beware: peanuts seem to appear in one form or another in most dishes.

LE TAMBOUR Map    French, Bistro €€

01 42 33 06 90; 41 rue Montmartre, 2e; starters €7-17, mains €13-20; lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 1.30am Sun & Mon, to 3.30am Tue-Sat; Étienne Marcel or Sentier

‘The Drummer’ is a Paris mecca for night owls, with generously long hours and friendly service. It attracts a mixed and somewhat boisterous crowd. You’ll enjoy the recycled street furniture, straightforward cuisine and the cocky staff. The café-bar is open noon to 6am Tuesday to Saturday and 6pm to 6am Sunday and Monday.

BAAN BORAN Map    Thai €€

01 40 15 90 45; www.baan-boran.com, in French; 43 rue de Montpensier, 1er; starters €8-18, mains €12-20; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre or Pyramides

The fare at this eatery, just opposite the Théâtre du Palais Royal, is provincial Thai and about as authentic as you’ll find in this part of Paris. It makes a convenient stop before or after touring the Louvre. There are several vegetarian dishes, priced between €8 and €10. If you just want something quick and on the trot, visit Baan Boran à Emporter (Map; 01 40 13 96 70; 103 rue St-Honoré, 1er; dishes €4-6.50, menu €8.90; 11am-8pm Mon-Sat; Châtelet or Pont Neuf), which has takeaway service and counter seating.


top picks
PLACES FOR BRUNCH
 

LE LOUP BLANC Map    International €€€

01 40 13 08 35; www.loup-blanc.com; 42 rue Tiquetonne, 2e; veg dishes €12.50-14.50, mains €13.50-19.50; dinner to midnight Sun-Thu, to 12.30am Fri, to 1am Sat, brunch 11am-4.30pm Sun; Étienne Marcel

Some inventive and inexpensive dishes are on offer at ‘The White Wolf’: meat and fish marinated with herbs and spices (eg cardamom, star anise, marjoram) and then grilled. For accompaniments, you can choose from up to four vegetables and grains, according to your appetite and the season: red lentils, quinoa (a South American grain), creamed corn with peppers (a must) or carrots with cumin. We like the chicken with rosemary and savoury pork with tangerine and Macassar fillets of duck. It’s a popular place for brunch on Sunday (€19.50)

WILLI’S WINE BAR Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 42 61 05 09; www.williswinebar.com; 13 rue des Petits Champs, 1er; starters €9, mains €18, menus €19 & €25 (lunch only), €32 & €34; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Bourse

This civilised and very convivial wine bar-cum-bistro was opened in 1980 by British expats who introduced the wine-bar concept to Paris. The food by chef François Yon is still excellent, the wines (especially Côtes du Rhône) well chosen and Willi’s legendary status lives on – and deservedly so.

CAFÉ DE L’ÉPOQUE Map    French, Café €€

01 42 33 40 70; 12 rue Croix des Petits Champs, 1er; starters €5.50-14, mains €15-18; lunch daily, dinner to midnight Mon-Sat; Louvre-Rivoli

A lovely old relic of the belle époque when the passages couverts were the places to shop, this café full of old mirrors, banquettes and a heated terrace is a popular location for period films. It can be entered from the covered passage itself or the terrace facing rue du Bouloi.

L’ARBRE À CANNELLE Map    French, Tearoom €€

01 45 08 55 87; 57 passage des Panoramas, 2e; dishes €7-17.80; 11.30am-6.30pm Mon-Sat; Grands Boulevards

The ‘Cinnamon Tree’ is a lovely tearoom with tartes salées (savoury pies; from €7), excellent salads (€7 to €9.80), great plats du jour (€12) and red-fruit crumble for dessert. The original 19th-century décor is worth a visit in itself; seating is on the ground and 1st floors.

SAVEURS VÉGÉT’HALLESMap    Vegetarian €€

01 40 41 93 95; 41 rue des Bourdonnais, 1er; starters & salads €4.80-9.80, mains €11.20-17.20, menus €9.80 & 12.50 (lunch only), €15.30; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Châtelet

Occupying the former premises of another vegetarian restaurant, La Victoire Suprême du Cœur, this vegan eatery is egg-free and offers quite a few mock-meat dishes, such as poulet végétal aux champignons (‘chicken’ with mushrooms) and escalope de seitan (wheat gluten ‘escalope’). No alcohol is served.

SCOOP Map    International €€

01 42 60 31 84; www.scoopcafe.com, in French; 154 rue St-Honoré, 1er; dishes €10.90-16.90; 11am-7pm; Louvre-Rivoli

This erstwhile American-style ice-cream parlour has been making quite a splash for its excellent wraps, burgers, tarts and soups and central, very fashionable location. The upstairs lounge is made for a tête-à-tête, and Sunday brunch (11.30am to 4pm) includes pancakes with maple syrup.

LE VÉRO DODAT Map    French €€

01 45 08 92 06; 1st fl, 19 Galerie Véro Dodat, 2 rue du Bouloi, 1er; mains €13.50, menu €16.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sat; Louvre-Rivoli

This friendly little place in the heart of the Véro Dodat passage couvert has seating both downstairs and upstairs. At lunchtime it’s especially popular with workers from the nearby Bourse de la Commerce, who come for the reasonably priced plats du jour.

KUNITORAYA Map    Japanese €€

01 47 03 33 65; www.kunitoraya.com, in French; 39 rue Ste-Anne, 1er; dishes €8.50-15, menu €12.50 (lunch only); 11.30am-10pm; Pyramides

With seating on two floors, this simple and intimate place has a wide and excellent range of Japanese shop-made noodle dishes and set lunches and dinners. If headed here, aim to arrive before 1pm for lunch or before 8pm for dinner to beat the crowds.

HIGUMA Map    Japanese €€

01 58 62 49 22; 163 rue St-Honoré, 1er; mains €7-12.50, menus €10 & €11.50; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

This authentic, no-nonsense Japanese noodle shop offers great value, particularly for its location opposite the Comédie Française. We love the gyoza (dumplings) and the fried noodles with pork and vegetables.

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SELF-CATERING

Rue Montorgueil, one of the busiest and best-stocked rues commerçantes (commercial streets, not unlike open-air markets) in Paris, is north of Les Halles.

There are several supermarkets around Forum des Halles. Other options are Franprix Les Halles branch (Map; 35 rue Berger, 1er; 8.30am-9.50pm Mon-Sat; Châtelet) and Franprix Châtelet branch (Map; 16 rue Bertin Poirée, 1er; 8.30am-8pm Mon-Sat; Châtelet).

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MARAIS & BASTILLE

The Marais, filled with small restaurants of every imaginable type, is one of Paris’ premier neighbourhoods for eating out. Make sure to book ahead at the weekend.

Towards République there’s a decent selection of ethnic places. If you’re after authentic Chinese food but can’t be bothered going to the larger Chinatown in the 13e (Click here), check out the small noodle shops and restaurants along rue Au Maire, 3e (Map). The kosher and kosher-style restaurants along rue des Rosiers (Map), the so-called Pletzl area, serve specialities from North Africa, Central Europe and Israel. Be aware: many are closed on Friday evening, Saturday and Jewish holidays. Takeaway falafel and shwarma (kebabs) are available at several places along the street.

Bastille is another area chock-a-block with restaurants, some of which have added a star or two to their epaulets in recent years. Narrow rue de Lappe and rue de la Roquette (11e), just east of place de la Bastille, may not be as hip as they were a dozen years ago, but they remain popular streets for nightlife and attract a young, alternative crowd.

BEL CANTO Map    French €€€

01 42 78 30 18; www.lebelcanto.com; 72 quai de l’Hôtel de Ville, 4e; menu €72; dinner to midnight; Hôtel de Ville or Pont Marie

If London, New York and even Budapest can have one – a restaurant where the waiters sing (arias) for their supper – why can’t Paris have one too? So if you fancy Rossini with your roast, Verdi with your veg and Puccini with your pud, this place and its dîners lyriques is the place for you.

LE DÔME DU MARAIS Map    French €€€

01 42 74 54 17; 53bis rue des Francs Bourgeois, 4e; starters €17-33, mains €25-35, 2-/3-course menus €19/25 (lunch only), dinner menu €36; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Rambuteau

This place serves classic French dishes such as joues de bœuf (beef cheeks) as well as hare and lighter fare – often shellfish and fish. The location is sublime: a pre-Revolution building and former auction room with a glassed-in courtyard just down from the Archives Nationales. The octagonal-shaped dining room is a knockout.

LE VILLARET Map    French €€€

01 43 57 89 76; 13 rue Ternaux, 11e; starters €8.50-20, mains €18-35, menu €23 & €28 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat; Parmentier

An excellent neighbourhood bistro serving very rich food, Le Villaret has diners coming from across Paris to sample the house specialities. The velouté de cèpes à la mousse de foie gras (cep mushroom soup with foie-gras mousse) and the gigot d’agneau de Lozère rôti et son gratin de topinambours (roast lamb with Jerusalem artichoke gratin) are all recommended, but only the chef knows what will be available as he changes the menu daily. Tasting menus start at €50.

L’ÉCAILLER DU BISTROT Map    French, Seafood €€€

01 43 72 76 77; 22 rue Paul Bert, 11e; starters €10-22, mains €18-35, menu €16 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

Oyster lovers should make a beeline for ‘The Bistro Shucker’, a neighbourhood resto done up in nautical kitsch that serves up to a dozen varieties of fresh bivalves, freshly shucked and accompanied by a little lemon juice. Other delights are platters of seafood for between one and four people (€34 to €130), a half-dozen oursins (sea urchins; €14), minute-cooked tuna steak with sesame oil and the extravagant lobster menu (€45).

BOFINGER Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 42 72 87 82; www.bofingerparis.com; 5-7 rue de la Bastille, 4e; starters €8-18.50, mains €15.50-31.50, menus €24 (lunch only) & €31.50; lunch & dinner to 12.30am daily; Bastille

Founded in 1864, Bofinger is reputedly the oldest brasserie in Paris, though its polished Art Nouveau brass, glass and mirrors throughout suggest a redecoration a few decades later. As at most Parisian brasseries, specialities include Alsatian-inspired dishes such as choucroute (sauerkraut with assorted meats; €18 to €20), and seafood dishes (€24.50 to €49). There’s a budget menu of €23.90 available after 11pm. Ask for a seat downstairs, under the coupole (stained-glass dome); it’s the prettiest part of the restaurant. Just opposite is Le Petit Bofinger ( 01 42 72 05 23; 6 rue de la Bastille, 4e; starters €7.60-15.70, mains €15.30-26, menus with wine €20.50 & €29; lunch & dinner to 12.30am daily; Bastille), the brasserie’s less brash (and cheaper) little sister.

LE DÔME BASTILLE Map    French, Seafood €€€

01 48 04 88 44; 2 rue de la Bastille, 4e; starters €9.50-15, mains €21-31; lunch & dinner to 11pm; Bastille

This lovely restaurant, little sister to the more established Dôme in Montparnasse and awash in pale yellows, specialises in superbly prepared fish and seafood dishes. The blackboard menu changes daily. Wines are a uniform (and affordable) €22.50 per bottle.

LE TEMPS AU TEMPS Map    French €€€

01 43 79 63 40; 3 rue Paul Bert, 11e; menu €30; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

This tiny little place with about 10 tables has a very exciting three-course menu that changes daily; some of the dishes have been inspired by the cuisine récréative (entertaining cuisine) of the great Catalan chef Ferran Adria. Come here for lunch; you’re much more likely to get a seat.

LE REPAIRE DE CARTOUCHE Map    French €€€

01 47 00 25 86; 8 blvd des Filles du Calvaire & 99 rue Amelot, 11e; starters €10-14, mains €18-30, menus €14 & €26 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; St-Sébastien Froissart

With entrances at both front and back, ‘Cartouche’s Den’ – a reference to the 18th-century Parisian ‘Robin Hood’ Louis-Dominique Cartouche – looks to the past and the future. It’s an old-fashioned place that takes a very modern, innovative approach to French food under the direction of Norman chef Rodolphe Paquin. As its name implies and the rifle on the wall underscores, it focuses on meat and game (poached?) though there are some excellent fish and shellfish dishes on the menu.

INAMORATI CAFFÈ Map    Italian €€€

01 48 04 88 28; 57 rue Charlot, 3e; mains €16-30, menus €15 (lunch only), €25 & with wine €30; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Temple or République

This long and narrow storefront space filled with tables covered in checked tablecloths attracts a loyal and local clientele who love the authentic (and ample) dishes, prepared by partners Salvatore and Rocco. The mammoth salads and risotto are excellent choices but we usually go for something in a marmite (cooking pot), be it homemade cheese-stuffed ravioli with meatballs or the fisherman’s stew of shellfish.

LES GRANDES MARCHES Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 43 43 90 32; 6 place de la Bastille, 12e; starters €8.50-13, mains €15-29; noon-midnight; Bastille

This futuristic modern brasserie next to the ‘Great Steps’ of the Opéra Bastille was designed by Elisabeth and Christian Portzamparc for the Flo group. The result has been disappointing – both in décor and food served – but it has a convenient (and much coveted) location. If you do find yourself here on Sunday, check out the jazz brunch (€24) from noon to 4pm. The bar stays open till 4am daily.

UNICO Map    Argentian €€€

01 43 67 68 08; www.resto-unico.com, in French; 15 rue Paul Bert, 11e; starters €6.50-11, mains €20-26, menu €19 (lunch only), lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

This very trendy, very orange Argentine parillada (steakhouse) has taken over an old butcher and put a modern (well, sort of 1970s, but it works) spin on it. This place is all about meat – especially the barbecued entrecôte (rib steak) with chunky frites (chips). Good wine selection.

MA BOURGOGNE Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 42 78 44 64; 19 place des Vosges, 4e; starters €8-20, mains €18-26, menu €32; noon-1am daily; St-Paul

With its terrace under the arcades of the place des Vosges looking onto what is arguably the most beautiful square in Paris, this is a wonderful place to have lunch or just a drink. The plats du jour are good value at €14 to €25 when you consider the location. Specialities include andouillette (sausage made of pork/veal tripe) and charcuterie from the Auvergne region.

CHEZ OMAR Map    North African €€€

01 42 72 36 26; 47 rue de Bretagne, 3e; couscous & tajines €12-22, grills €12-26; lunch Mon-Sat, dinner to 11.30pm daily; Arts et Métiers

Once a favourite of celebrity types, Chez Omar doesn’t seem to attract the very rich or particularly famous these days, but the quality of the couscous remains top-notch, judging from the crowds. Apart from the food and the serving staff, don’t expect anything else to be North African at Chez Omar: it looks almost exactly like the corner street café it was a quarter of a century ago.

LES DOMAINES QUI MONTENT Map    French, Wine €€€

01 43 56 89 15; www.lesdomainesquimontent.com, in French; 136 blvd Voltaire, 11; menus €14.50 & €25.50; lunch Mon-Sat daily; Voltaire

What better way to enjoy wine with a meal than at a wine merchant’s establishment amid shelves and cartons of bottles? The optimistically named ‘Estates on the Rise’ serves a table d’hôtes – a set meal with little or no choice – at lunchtime of a cheese and charcuterie or a plat du jour. These can be paired expertly with any of the wine around you and expert advice is included in the price! There are several other Domaines qui Montent, including a Montmartre branch (Map; 01 42 64 18 91; 42 rue Véron, 18e; lunch Mon-Sat daily; Abbesses or Blanche).

MANSOURIA Map    North African, Moroccan €€€

01 43 71 00 16; 11 rue Faidherbe, 11e; starters €8-16, mains €17-25, menu €30, with wine €46; lunch Wed-Sat, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

This is an especially attractive Moroccan restaurant that serves excellent milk-fed steamed lamb, if not the best kascsou (couscous) and touagin (tajine) in town. Someone in your group should definitely order the mourouzia, lamb simmered in a complex combination of some 27 spices and served with a honey sauce.

LE PETIT MARCHÉ Map    French, Café €€€

01 42 72 06 67; 9 rue de Béarn, 3e; starters €8-11, mains €15-25, menu €14 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Chemin Vert

This great little bistro just up from the place des Vosges fills up at lunch and then again in the evening with a mixed crowd who come to enjoy the hearty cooking and friendly service. The salad starters are popular, as are the brochette d’agneau aux épices doux (spicy lamb brochette). The open kitchen also offers a fair few vegetarian choices.

AUX VINS DES PYRÉNÉES Map    French €€€

01 42 72 64 94; 25 rue Beautreillis, 4e; starters €7.50-13, mains €14-25, menu €13.50 (lunch only); lunch Sun-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm; St-Paul or Bastille

Located in a former wine warehouse a couple of doors down from the house where rock singer Jim Morrison of the Doors died in 1971 (No 17–19), this is a good place to enjoy a unpretentious French meal with a lot of wine. The place has been able to retain its old-world charm and it’s not surprising that a crowd of bobo (’bohemian bourgeois’) locals, a few showbiz parisien types among them, have set up headquarters here. The fish, meat and game dishes are all equally good, but worth a special mention is the foie gras and the top-notch pavé de rumsteak (thick rump steak). The wine list offers a wide choice of celebrated and little-known estate wines.

CHEZ JENNY Map    French, Alsatian €€

01 44 54 39 00; www.chezjenny.com; 39 blvd du Temple, 3e; starters €5.90-17.50, mains €17.50-24.50, menus €19.50 & €23.50; noon-midnight Sun-Thu, to 1am Fri & Sat; République

This cavernous brasserie dating from 1932 serves a huge choucroute garnie and excellent baeckeoffe (€22.50), an Alsatian stew made of meat and several types of vegetables, but we suspect that most people visit to admire the stunning marquetry of Alsatian scenes by Charles Spindler on the 1st floor. A quick and tasty lunch at Chez Jenny is flammekuche (€14.50), an Alsatian-style tart made with cream, onion, bacon and cheese.

BISTROT DE L’OULETTE Map    French €€

01 42 71 43 33; www.l-oulette.com; 38 rue des Tournelles, 4e; starters €11-14, mains €19-24, 2-/3-course menus €12/17 (lunch only) & €26/34; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Thu, to midnight Fri & Sat; Bastille or Chemin Vert

A younger cousin of the chic L’Oulette in Bercy, this bistrot bustles by day and night with a mix of locals and tourists who are here for the capable southwestern provincial cooking. Duck features heavily – try the foie gras de canard (€17) or the magret de canard (fillet of duck breast; €19). Wines include almost a dozen from the southwest.

AU PETIT MONSIEUR Map    French, Bistro €€

01 43 55 54 04; 50 rue Amelot, 11e; starters €10-20, mains €18-24, menus €11-22 (lunch only) & €35; lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Sébastien Froissart

We’re still out to lunch, as it were, on this new avatar of the much missed C’Amelot, but ‘At the Little Guy’ looks like it might win some hearts with starters like risotto aux deux artichaux, caviar de tomates confites (risotto with two types of artichokes with glazed tomato) and mains like millefeuille de rouget et sa ratatouillle (red mullet in flaky pastry with Mediterranean vegetable ‘stew’). The atmosphere is less staid than C’Amelot was too.

PITCHI POÏ Map    Eastern European, Jewish €€

01 42 77 46 15; www.pitchipoi.com; 9 place du Marché Ste-Catherine & 7 rue Caron, 4e; dishes €16-24, menu €23; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; St-Paul

This convivial Eastern-European Jewish restaurant on one of Paris’ most picturesque squares serves traditional dishes such as tchoulent (cholent; slowly simmered meat with beans and vegetables) at lunch and dinner and lighter fare such as smoked salmon and chopped chicken liver at its Sunday buffet (€27; noon to 5pm).

À LA RENAISSANCE Map    French, Café €€€

01 43 79 83 09; 87 rue de la Roquette, 11e; starters €8.50-14.50, mains €16-24; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Voltaire

This large, café-like bistro de quartier has a huge bar (open 8am to 2am) with large plate-glass windows looking onto the street. Food is reliable if unadventurous – herring fillets on a bed of warm potatoes, mackerel rillettes, steak tartare and that all-time favourite, œufs à la coq aux tartines (soft-boiled eggs with toast). Sunday brunch is €25.

404 Map    North African, Moroccan €€

01 42 74 57 81; 69 rue des Gravilliers, 3e; starters €7-9, couscous & tajines €14-24, menus €17 (lunch only) & €21 (brunch); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to midnight daily, brunch 10am-4pm Sat & Sun; Arts et Métiers

As comfortable a Maghreb (North African) caravanserai as you’ll find in Paris, the 404 not only has excellent couscous and tajines but superb grills (€12 to €22) and pigeon pastillas. The brunch berbère (Berber brunch) is available at the weekend. You’ll just love the One Thousand and One Nights décor with real antiques and curios, but the tables are set too close to one another.

L’AUTOBUS IMPÉRIAL Map    French €€

01 42 36 00 18; www.autobus-imperial.fr, in French; 14 rue Mondétour, 1er; mains €14-23.50; menus €16.50-23.50 (lunch only), €28-43; lunch & dinner to 2am Mon-Sat; Les Halles

This wonderful find just north of the unspeakable Forum des Halles shopping centre boasts a vintage Belle Époque dining room beneath a wonderful glass dome. It’s elegant and the food traditional; try salade de filets de caille braisés au vinaigre de truffle noire (quail salad with black truffle vinegar) and the Parmentier de jambon confit (ham confit in mashed potatoes).

AU VIEUX CHÊNE Map    French €€

01 43 71 67 69; 7 rue du Dahomey, 11e; starters €10-16, mains €18.50-23, menus €13 (lunch only) & €29; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

Along a quiet side street in a neighbourhood full of traditional woodworking studios, ‘At the Old Oak’ bistro offers an excellent seasonal menu and some well-chosen wines. The surrounds are fabulous and very retro. Three of the cast-iron columns holding the place up are registered monuments.

CHEZ RAMULAUD Map    French €€

01 43 72 23 29; 269 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 11e; starters €9-13, mains €18-23, menus €15-17 (lunch only) & €29; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

With its peaceful, retro atmosphere, this enormous establishment is reminiscent of established provincial restaurants. The blackboard offerings are not overly adventurous but they are comforting and substantial – daily soups, terrine, œufs cocotte aux champignons de saison (coddled eggs with seasonal mushrooms). For mains, the fish dishes are usually winners. The plat du jour is good value at €10.

L’ALIVI Map    French, Corsican €€€

01 48 87 90 20; www.restaurant-alivi.com, in French; 27 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; starters €9-16, mains €15-23, menus €17 & €23 (lunch only), €25 & €29; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; St-Paul

The ingredients at this rather fashionable Corsican restaurant are always fresh and refined, with brocciu cheese, charcuterie and basil featuring strongly on the menu. Try starzapreti (brocciu and spinach quenelles) and the unrivalled cabri braisé au rosmarin (kid braised with rosemary) with a Leccia wine to fully experience the pleasures of what the French call l’île de beauté (the beautiful island).


top picks
FOOD STREETS
 
  • Av de Choisy, av d’Ivry and rue Baudricourt have a plethora of Chinese and Southeast Asian eateries.
  • Blvd de Belleville is the place for Middle Eastern and Pakistani food and kosher couscous.
  • Passage Brady, a covered arcade, is the place for Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi dishes.
  • Rue Cadet, rue Richer and rue Geoffroy Marie all have restaurants serving Sephardic Jewish kosher food, including couscous.
  • Rue Montorgueil, a pedestrians-only market street, is one of the best places around for something quick to eat.
  • Rue Mouffetard is not just a food market but an excellent street to find ethnic and French restaurants in the budget category.
  • Rue Rosiers in the Marais is the best place to find Ashkenazic Jewish kosher food.

LE TRUMILOU Map    French, Bistro €€

01 42 77 63 98; 84 quai de l’Hôtel de Ville, 4e; starters €4.50-13, mains €15-22, menu €16.50 & €19.50; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Hôtel de Ville

This no-frills bistro just round the corner from the Hôtel de Ville and facing the posh Île de St-Louis square is a Parisian institution in situ for over a century. If you’re looking for an authentic menu from the early 20th century and prices (well, almost) to match, you won’t do better than this. The confit aux pruneaux (duck with prunes) and the ris de veau grand-mère (veal sweetbreads in mushroom cream sauce) are particularly good.

CHEZ PAUL Map    French, Bistro €€

01 47 00 34 57; 13 rue de Charonne, 11e; starters €4.80-17.50, mains €14.50-22; lunch & dinner to 12.30am daily; Ledru Rollin

When they put up a ‘French restaurant’ film set in Hollywood, this ever-expanding bistro is what it must look like. An extremely popular bistro, it has traditional French main courses handwritten on a yellowing menu and brusque service – Paris in true form! Stick with the simplest of dishes – the steak or foie gras with lentils – and make sure you’ve booked ahead.

L’AMBASSADE D’AUVERGNE Map    French, Auvergne €€

01 42 72 31 22; www.ambassade-auvergne.com; 22 rue du Grenier St-Lazare, 3e; starters €8-16, mains €14-22, menu €20 (lunch only) & €28; lunch & dinner to 10pm daily; Rambuteau

The ‘Auvergne Embassy’ is the place to head if you are a truly hungry carnivore. This century-old restaurant offers traditional dishes from the Auvergne such as salade tiède de lentilles vertes du Puy (warm salad of green Puy lentils; €9), a great lead-up to the house speciality: saucisse de Parlan à l’aligot (Auvergne-style pork sausage served with a potato and cheese purée; €14).

LE RÉCONFORT Map    French €€

01 49 96 09 60; 37 rue de Poitou, 3e; starters €7-10, mains €17-21, menus €17 & €22 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm daily; St-Sébastien Froissart

Unusual for a restaurant in the Marais, ‘The Comfort’ has generous space between tables and is quiet enough to chat without yelling. The kitchen produces very tasty and inventive dishes, including homemade foie gras. For mains, consider king prawns in an aromatic citrus and coconut sauce or souris d’agneau rotie (roast lamb shank). The plat du jour at lunch is €12.

LE SOUK Map    North African €€

01 49 29 05 08; www.lesoukfr.com, in French; 1 rue Keller, 11e; starters €7.50-13, mains €16-21; menus €20 & €27; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Ledru Rollin

We like coming here almost as much for the décor as the food – from the clay pots overflowing with spices on the outside to the exuberant (but never kitsch) Moroccan interior. And the food? As authentic as the decoration, notably the duck tajine and vegetarian couscous. Be warned: mains are enormous, so this might have to be a one-dish meal.

LE TROISIÈME BUREAU Map    French, Bistro €€

01 43 55 87 65; 74 rue de la Folie Méricourt, 11e; starters €7.50-11.50, mains €15.50-21, menus €11.50 & €13.50 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Oberkampf

An interesting clientele frequents this pub-cum-bistro, where you can read, listen to music, do a little work on the laptop, tickle the ivories on the funky old piano and enjoy Sunday brunch (€15.50) from noon to 4pm. There are one-plate specials for between €9.80 and €13.50.

BLUE ELEPHANT Map    Thai €€

01 47 00 42 00; www.blueelephant.com/paris; 43-45 rue de la Roquette, 11e; starters €13.50-18, mains €14.80-21, menus €42 & €52; lunch Sun-Fri, dinner to midnight daily; Bastille

This is Paris’ most famous upmarket Thai restaurant and part of an international chain, with a dozen branches in cities round the world from Brussels to Beirut. Although it has become a little too successful for its own good (it also sells its own branded knick-knacks and gift items), the indoor tropical rainforest and well-prepared spicy dishes (look for the one, two or three elephant symbols on the menu) are still worth the inflated prices. Sunday buffet (noon to 3pm) is good value at €39.

L’ENOTECA Map    Italian €€

01 42 78 91 44; 25 rue Charles V, 4e; starters €10-14, mains €18-20, menu €14 (lunch only) & €30-43; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Sully Morland or Pont Marie

‘The Vinotheque’, a trattoria in the historic Village St-Paul quarter of the Marais, serves haute cuisine à l’italienne, and there’s an excellent list of Italian wines by the glass (€3.50 to €12). It’s no secret that this is one of the few Italian wine bars in Paris to take its vino seriously, so book ahead. Pasta dishes (€13 to €23) are good, as is the generous tavola antipasti (antipasto buffet table). The cocotte du jour (casserole of the day; €13) is served with a glass of wine.

LES SANS CULOTTES Map    French, Bistro €€

01 48 05 42 92; www.lessansculottesfr.com, in French; 27 rue de Lappe, 11e; starters €9-15, mains €14-20, menus €18 & €23; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; Bastille

You wouldn’t cross Paris to eat at Sans Culottes – the place takes its name from the working-class ‘men without breeches’ who fought in the French Revolution – but in a neighbourhood that has become somewhat trendy in recent years it’s a comforting reminder of the past. The interior, with frosted glass, huge zinc bar, ornate ceilings and wooden floors, positively glows in the evening. The range of food is uneven, though relatively low-priced; service is friendly and attentive. The set menus include wine.

LES GALOPINS Map    French, Bistro €€

01 47 00 45 35; www.lesgalopins.com; 24 rue des Taillandiers, 11e; starters €6.50-10.50, mains €13.50-20, menus €14.50 & €17.50 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Thu, to 11.30pm Fri & Sat; Bastille or Voltaire

The décor of this cute neighbourhood bistro is simple, the meals are straightforward and in the best tradition of French cuisine, with offerings such as raviolis de pétoncles (queen scallops ravioli), confit de canard laqué au sirop d’érable (duck confit cooked with maple syrup) and compotée d’agneau aux aubergines (lamb and aubergine ragout). It’s not a secret find, so it can feel like a bit of a factory at lunch or on a weekend night.

CHEZ MARIANNE Map    Jewish, Kosher €€

01 42 72 18 86; 2 rue des Hospitalières St-Gervais, 4e; dishes €3-20; noon-midnight daily; St-Paul

This is a Sephardic kosher alternative to the Ashkenazi fare usually available at Pletzl eateries. Platters containing four to 10 different meze (such as falafel, hummus, purées of aubergine and chickpeas) cost from €12 to €26. The takeaway window sells falafel in pita for €4.50 and there’s also an excellent bakery attached. Chez Marianne’s set menus include a number of vegetarian options.

PARIS MAIN D’OR Map    French, Corsican €€

01 44 68 04 68; 133 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 11e; starters €6.50-16.10, mains €13-19.50, menu €12; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Ledru Rollin

The unprepossessing, cafélike ‘Paris Golden Hand’ serves authentic Corsican dishes – a surprisingly elusive cuisine in Paris. Sturza preti (spinach and fine brocciu cheese; €8) and traditional omelette with brocciu and jambon sec (dried ham, matured for two years) are some of the appetisers on the menu. For mains, favourites include the tian de veau aux olives (veal ragout) and the caprettu arrustini (roast kid). Pasta dishes come in at about €10.50.

LE GRAND MÉRICOURT Map    French €€

01 43 38 94 04; 22 rue de la Folie Méricourt, 11e; starters €12, mains €19, menus €14 (lunch only), €17 & €35; lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Ambroise

Young chef Gregory Merten Antonelli offers his version of ‘la cuisine créative’ (basically traditional French that is light on oils and fat and heavy on seasonal produce) in a very English, almost fussy (floral wallpaper, wooden floors, starched tablecloths and napkins) place just a stone’s throw from trendy rue Oberkampf. Try the sanglier en pâté à la liqueur d’orange (boar pâté flavoured with orange liqueur) and the joue de bœuf fondante au muscat (beef cheek with sweet wine).

LES CAVES ST-GILLES Map    Spanish €€

01 48 87 22 62; 4 rue St-Gilles, 3e; tapas €5.30-22, mains €15.50-19; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Chemin Vert

This Spanish wine bar a short distance northeast of place des Vosges is the most authentic place on the Right Bank for tapas, paella (at the weekend only; €19), zarzuela (Spanish bouillabaisse; €16.50) and sangria (€28 for 1.4cL). If you don’t believe us, just ask the Spanish expats who arrive here in droves. We like the bowls of complimentary olives provided on tables and at the bar.

GUILLAUME Map    Modern French €€

01 44 54 20 60; 32 rue de Picardie, 3e; starters €8-14.50, mains €15-19; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat daily; Temple or République

Some of the starters at this sophisticated venue near place de la République make an ideal light lunch – try the tomato Tatin and the samoussa d’escargots (samosa with snails) – and there’s a two-course formule (set menu) for €15.50. You can eat either in the front bar or in the spacious dinning room behind. There’s a lovely art gallery on the 1st floor and, if you’re a group (something unusual in Paris), there’s a huge round table available for seating at least a dozen people.

CAFÉ DE L’INDUSTRIE Map    French, Café €€

01 47 00 13 53; 16 & 17 rue St-Sabin, 11e; starters €5.10-6.90, mains €8.90-19; 9.30am-2am daily; Bastille

This popular café-restaurant with neocolonial décor has two locations directly opposite one another. It’s a pleasant space and the perfect spot to meet a friend instead of at one of the crowded cafés or bars in Bastille. Food is competitively priced but not always up to scratch; to avoid disappointment stick with the simple entrées or just graze off the fabulous dessert table (€4 to €5.90).

CAFFÉ BOBOLI Map–9    Italian €€

01 42 77 89 27; www.caffeboboli.com; 13 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; starters €10-13, mains €14-18.50; lunch Tue-Sun, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; St-Paul

Affordable Italian fare in the heart of the Marais? Not as preposterous a notion as you might think with the advent of this small restaurant run by two young Florentines. The food is very wholesome and based on vegetables, cheese and charcuterie like Parma ham and beef carpaccio. On the walls are original paintings and photographs that are changed every three months.

LE PETIT PICARD Map    French €€

01 42 78 54 03; 42 rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; starters €7-16, mains €12.50-18.50, menus €15 (lunch only), €18 & €29; lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sun; Hôtel de Ville

This popular little restaurant in the centre of the Marais serves traditional French cuisine (try the generous menu traditionel at €29). Despite its name, the only dish from Picardy (unless you count salade picarde) that we could spot on the menu was flamiche aux poireaux, a Flemish-style leek pie. The place is always packed, so book well in advance.

LA MUSE VIN Map    French, Wine €€

01 40 09 93 05; 101 rue de Charonne; starters €8, mains €18, menus €9.50 & with wine €15.50 (lunch only), €25 & €30; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Charonne

Primarily a wine bar and bottle shop, the very pink (or is that rosé?) ‘Wine Muse’ also does food both day (plat du jour €11) and night and its offerings go well beyond plates of cold meats and cheese. In fact, the evening menu changes every three weeks. It takes its wines very seriously, though, so keep that foremost in your mind.

OSSEK GARDEN Map    Korean €€

01 48 07 16 35; 14 rue Rampon, 11e; starters €5-14, barbecue €16-18, menus €9.50 & €12.50 (lunch only), €16.50-30; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Oberkampf

Things Korean – especially films – seem to be taking the world by storm these days and Paris is no exception. This place not far from place de la République has excellent barbecues on offer, but we particularly like the bibimbab (€12 to €18), rice served in a sizzling pot topped with thinly sliced beef (or other meat) and cooked with preserved vegetables, then bound by a raw egg and flavoured with chilli-laced soy paste. Staff, in traditional Korean dress, are welcoming.

LE CLOWN BAR Map    French, Bistro €€

01 43 55 87 35; 114 rue Amelot, 11e; starters €7.50-10.50, mains €15-18, menu €15/18 (weekday/weekend lunch only) & €25; lunch & dinner to 1am Mon-Sat; Filles du Calvaire

A wonderful wine-bar-cum-bistro next to the Cirque d’Hiver (Map), the Clown Bar is like a museum with its painted ceilings, mosaics on the wall, lovely zinc bar and circus memorabilia that touches on one of our favourite themes of all time: the evil clown. The food is simple and unpretentious traditional French; the charcuterie platter (€10.50) is substantial and goes well with a half-bottle of Brouilly, while the Parmentier de boudin à la normande (black pudding Parmentier with apple) is deservedly one of the restaurant’s most popular dishes.

LE TIRE BOUCHON Map    French €€

01 47 00 43 50; 5 rue Guillaume Bertrand, 11e; starters €7-19, mains €15-18, menus €12 (lunch only), €17 & €25; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; St-Maur

This mock old-style bistro close to the flashy rue Oberkampf has a dozen tables with gingham tablecloths arranged around a polished wooden bar. Add a few old photographs of the quartier, a touch of greenery and some decent bottles of wine and voilà: ‘The Corkscrew’. The cassoulet confit (casserole or stew with beans and meat) and millefeuille de dorade (sea bream in flaky pastry) will tickle your taste buds. Expect friendly, attentive service but book well in advance.

ROBERT ET LOUISE Map    French €€

01 42 78 55 89; 64 rue Vieille du Temple, 3e; starters €6-13, mains €12-18, menu €12 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sun; St-Sébastien Froissart

This ‘country inn’, complete with its red gingham curtains, offers delightful, simple and inexpensive French food, including côte de bœuf (side of beef; €40), which is cooked on an open fire and prepared by the original owners’ daughter and her husband. If you arrive early, choose to sit at the farmhouse table, right next to the fireplace. It’s a jolly, truly Rabelaisian evening. The plat du jour is a snip at €12.50

CHEZ NÉNESSE Map    French, Bistro €€

01 42 78 46 49; 17 rue de Saintonge, 3e; starters €4-16, mains €10-18; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; Filles du Calvaire

The atmosphere at this bistro is very ‘old Parisian café’ and unpretentious, the dishes made with fresh, high-quality ingredients such as salade de canard au vinaigre d’hydromel (duck salad with honey vinegar) and fricassée de volaille aux morilles (poultry fricassee with morel mushrooms). The lunchtime starters are €4 and plats du jour are €10 to €12.

CHEZ HEANG Map    Korean €€

01 48 07 80 98; 5 rue de la Roquette, 11e; barbecue €8.50-17.50, menus €9 (lunch only) & €11-23; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Bastille

Also known as ‘Barbecue de Seoul’, this tiny place is where you cook your food on a grill in the middle of your table. The fondue maison, a kind of spicy hotpot in which you dip and cook your food, costs €25 per person (minimum two).

AU BASCOU Map    French, Basque €€

01 42 72 69 25; 38 rue Réaumur, 3e; starters €9, mains €17, menu €19 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; Arts et Métiers

This is a popular eatery serving such classic Basque dishes as pipérade (peppers, onions, tomatoes and ham cooked with scrambled eggs), axoa (ragout of ground veal with a sauce of pimento and peppers) and Bayonne ham in all its guises. Round off the meal with a piece of Ardi Gasna brebis, (a ewe’s milk cheese), or a slice of gâteau basque, a relatively simple layer cake filled with cream and cherry jam.

LA VICTOIRE SUPRÊME DU CŒUR Map    Vegetarian €€

01 40 41 95 03; www.vscoeur.com; 27-31 rue du Bourg Tibourg, 4e; starters & salads €4-10, mains €14-17, menus €10.50-13.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat, brunch 11am-5pm Sun; Châtelet

This Indian-inspired vegan restaurant is a welcome addition to the hubbub of the Marais. Food is actually quite good; avoid the mock-meat dishes like the devilish-sounding seitan (wheat gluten) ‘steak’ and go for a thalli, a sampling tray of Indian goodies for €15. For drinks try the mango lassi or spiced tea. Weekend brunch is €21. No meat, no alcohol, no guilt.

AUBERGE NICOLAS FLAMEL Map    French €€

01 42 71 77 78; www.auberge-nicolas-flamel.fr, in French; 51 rue de Montmorency, 3e; starters €9.50, mains €16.50; menus €18.50 (lunch only), €31 & €45 lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Rambuteau or Arts et Métiers

A visit to this charming restaurant, with its higgledy-piggledy rooms on two floors, is not so much about the food but the location: this was once the residence of celebrated alchemist and writer Flamel (1330–1417) and is the oldest building extant in Paris. Expect dishes that are correct but not earth-moving – duck foie gras, lamb cooked in a tajine and so on. There are wine tastings (€12) in the atmospheric (read: spooky) cellar.

À LA BANANE IVOIRIENNE Map    African, Côte d’Ivoire €€

01 43 70 49 90; http://alabanane.ivoirienne.club.fr; 10 rue de la Forge Royale, 11e; starters €5-7.50, mains €10-16.50, menu with wine €28; dinner to midnight Tue-Sat; Ledru Rollin

West African specialities (including a generous vegetarian platter; €12) are served in a relaxed and friendly setting, with lots of West African gewgaws on display. There’s live African music in the cellar restaurant starting at 10pm on Fridays.

AU VILLAGE Map    African, Senegalese €€

01 43 57 18 95; 86 av Parmentier, 11e; starters €5.50-8, mains €11-16; dinner to midnight Sun-Thu, to 1am Fri & Sat; Parmentier

Newcomers to African cuisine can choose from a range of classic Senegalese dishes such as aloko (fried plantain bananas with red sauce; €5.50), followed by the delicious, lightly spiced fish or chicken yassa (€12) or the hearty beef mafé (€11). For dessert, check out the amazing thiakry (semolina and cream cheese salad; €5.50). The plat du jour is usually €13. The atmosphere is warm, friendly and a bit hip and the décor is delightful. You’ll think you’re in a Senegalese village, especially when the kora music starts.

MAI THAI Map    Thai €€

01 42 72 18 77; www.maithai.fr, in French; 24bis rue St-Gilles, 3e; starters €8-11, mains €13-15, menus €13.50 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Chemin Vert

This rather stylish place, done up in warm tones of orange, red and yellow with Buddha figures, the sine qua non of Thai restaurants, throughout, has gained a loyal following in recent years and you should book in advance for dinner. Among les classiques de la cuisine du Siam (classics of the cuisine of Siam) on offer is chicken cooked with sacred basil and the usual spicy Thai sausages.

LE PETIT DAKAR Map    African, Senegalese €€

01 44 59 34 74; 6 rue Elzévir, 3e; starters €7, mains €13-15, menu €15 (lunch only); lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; St-Paul

Some people think this is the most authentic Senegalese restaurant in Paris, and with the CSAO Boutique & Gallery up the road, it does feel like a little bit of Africa has fallen onto a quiet Marais street.

WALY FAY Map    African, Creole €€

01 40 24 17 79; 6 rue Godefroy Cavaignac, 11e; starters €6-8, mains €10-15; dinner to midnight Mon-Sat, brunch noon-5pm Sun; Charonne

This easygoing ‘loungin’ restaurant’ attracts a rather hip crowd for the African food with a West Indian twist served to the sounds of soul and jazz. For starters, the pepe (fish soup) is deliciously smooth and highly spiced. For mains, the tiéboudienne (rice, fish and vegetables) and fish n’dole are recommended by the staff, but try instead the copious mafé (beef simmered in peanut sauce) served with rice and aloko (fried plantain bananas). The distressed walls and low lighting add warmth to the surrounds.

AU TROU NORMAND Map    French €€

01 48 05 80 23; 9 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; starters €6-9.50, mains €8.50-14.50. menus €12.50 & €15 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Sun-Thu, to midnight Fri & Sat; Oberkampf

Even under a younger and more dynamic team, ‘The Norman Hole’ remains the bargain-basement cafétéria of the 11e arrondissement. In keeping with the surrounds, the dishes served are simple and portions fairly generous. There are dozens of starters to choose from; main courses include confit de canard (duck confit) brandade de morue (cod puréed with potatoes) and various cuts of beef (tournedos, steak tartare etc) served with chips made on the premises.

TAEKO Map    Japanese €€

01 48 04 34 59; 39 rue de Bretagne, 3e; menus €8.90-12.50; 9am-8pm Tue-Sat, to 2pm Sun; Marais

Just about the last thing you would expect to find in the Marché des Enfants Rouges, one of the oldest markets in Paris, is this mom-and-pop Japanese eatery. There’s sushi and sashimi and salmon tartar to start and delightful warm dishes like codfish balls and chicken cooked with soy sauce. Sit at the communal table near the entrance – if there’s room!

BREAKFAST IN AMERICA Map    American, Deli €€

01 42 72 40 21; www.breakfast-in-america.com; 4 rue Malher, 4e; meals €6.50-12; 8.30am-11.30pm daily; St-Paul

This American-style diner, complete with red banquettes and Formica surfaces, is as authentic as you’ll find outside the US of A. Breakfast, served all day and with free coffee refills, starts at €6.50, and there are generous burgers, chicken wings and fish and chips (€7.95 to €11.50). There’s also a Latin Quarter branch (Map; 01 43 54 50 28; 17 rue des Écoles, 5e; Cardinal Lemoine) open the same hours.

BAGEL STORE Map    American, Kosher €€

01 44 78 06 05; 31 rue de Turenne, 3e; dishes €3.60-11.50; 9am-7pm Sun-Thu, 9am-3, to 7pm Fri (depending on season); Chemin Vert

This small place just up from the Marais is a great spot if you want something sur le pouce (literally ‘on the thumb’, meaning on the run). There are soups, salads, plates of charcuterie and, of course, its signature bagels with a more than a dozen different fillings.

GRAND APPÉTIT Map    Vegetarian €€

01 40 27 04 95; 9 rue de la Cerisaie, 4e; soups €3-4, dishes €5-11; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 9pm Mon-Wed; Bastille or Sully Morland

Set back from Bastille in a small, quiet street, this place offers light fare such as miso soup and cereals plus strength-building bols garnis (bowls of rice and mixed vegetables) and assiettes (platters) for those with a grand appétit (big appetite). The menu features delicious, filling dishes served with 100% organic cereals, raw and cooked vegetables and seaweed. Next door there’s an excellent organic and macrobiotic grocery store ( 9.30am-7.30pm Mon-Thu, to 4pm Fri).

LA PERLA Map    Mexican €€

01 42 77 59 40; 26 rue François Miron, 4e; starters €6.10-9.10, mains €8.50-10.70, menu €9.90 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight daily; St-Paul or Hôtel de Ville

A Californian-style Mexican bar and restaurant with excellent guacamole (€7), nachos (from €6.10) and quesadillas (€6.10 to €7.50), ‘The Pearl’ is best known as the ‘kingdom of tequila’, with some 60 varieties on the shelf. Knock it back neat with salt and lemon or disguised in a margarita (€8.80 to €12). The bar is open from noon to 2am daily.

PARIS HANOI Map    Vietnamese €

01 47 00 47 59; 74 rue de Charonne, 11e; starters €3.50-8, mains €8.50-10.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm daily; Charonne

This upbeat, very yellow restaurant is an excellent place to come for pho (soup noodles, usually with beef) and shrimp noodles. Judging from the clientele, the local Vietnamese community thinks so, too.

CRÊPES SHOW Map    French, Breton €

01 47 00 36 46; 51 rue de Lappe, 11e; crepes & galettes €3-9.80, menu €8.90 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 1am Sun-Thu, to 2am Fri & Sat; Ledru Rollin

This unpretentious little restaurant specialises in sweet crepes (€3 to €7.60) and savoury buckwheat galettes (pancakes; €3.10 to €9.20). OK, they may not be the most authentic in town, but the location is convenient and the welcome, warm. There are lots of vegetarian choices, including great salads from around €5.

CHEZ SÉBASTIEN Map    Turkish €

01 42 78 58 62; 22 passage Vendôme, 3e; dishes €4.80-8.90; 11.30am-8pm Mon-Sat; République

This simple little Turkish café on two levels in a scruffy passage south of place de la République is just the ticket if you’re looking for something cheap, filling and tasty to eat ‘on the thumb’ as the French say. Try any of the meze or the kebabs, especially the Iskender kebab, lamb slices served with pide bread and yogurt.

CRÊPERIE BRETONNE Map    French, Breton €

01 43 55 62 29; 67 rue de Charonne, 12e; starters €3.70-7.60, crepes & galettes €2.40-8.50; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat; Charonne

Head here if you fancy savoury buckwheat galettes – try the ham, cheese and egg complète – or a sweet crepe and wash it down with dry cidre de Rance (Rance cider; €6.20 for 50cL) served in a teacup (as is traditional). The Breton paraphernalia and B&W photos will keep you occupied if there’s a lull in the chatter.

L’AS DE FELAFEL Map    Jewish, Kosher €

01 48 87 63 60; 34 rue des Rosiers, 4e; dishes €5-7; noon-midnight Sun-Thu, to 5pm Fri; St-Paul

This has always been our favourite place for those deep-fried balls of chickpeas and herbs (€5 takeaway, €6.50 sit down). It’s always packed, particularly at weekday lunch, so avoid that time if possible.

PATATI PATATA Map    International, Café €

01 48 05 94 90; 51 rue de Lappe, 11e; dishes €4.90-6.80, menu €7.50; 11.30am-3am Mon-Sat; Bastille or Ledru Rollin

If you’re looking for something cheap and filling at almost any time of the day, visit this simple little caff with Formica tables that dispenses pommes de terre au four (baked or jacket potatoes) with toppings to the appreciative masses of Bastille.

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ALSO RECOMMENDED

 
  • Bagel’s Club (Map; 01 40 29 00 91; 24 rue Réaumur, 3e; bagels & sandwiches €5-7.50, salads €7-10; 8.30am-6pm Mon-Fri; Arts et Métiers). This place in the northern Marais serves glatt kosher sandwiches, bagels and snacks under the supervision of the Paris Beth Din.
  • Da Jia Le (Map; 01 48 87 02 46; 37 rue au Maire, 3e; dishes €3-16, menu €7.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30am; Arts et Métiers). Don’t cross town to eat noodles or dumplings here but if you’re in the neighbourhood of Paris’ original Chinatown and need an Asian fix, the ‘Big Happy House’ will oblige nicely and put a smile on your face.
  • La Plancha (Map; 01 48 05 20 30; 34 rue Keller, 11e; tapas €8, mains €9-16; dinner to 1.30am Tue-Sat; Bastille) This tiny Spanish-Basque bodega (note the pelota baskets and bullfighting photos) serves up the best tapas in the neighbourhood till the wee hours.
  • Le Coude Fou (Map; 01 42 77 15 16; www.lecoudefou.com, in French; 12 rue du Bourg Tibourg, 4e; starters €8-12, mains €16.50-18.50, menus €16.50 & €19.50; lunch Mon-Sat, dinner to midnight daily; Hôtel de Ville) Long-term fixture in the heart of the Marais serves cuisine traditionelle in a convivial bistro decorated with murals celebrating wine and the good life.

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SELF-CATERING

Markets in the Marais and Bastille area include the incomparable (and open-air) Marché Bastille.

There are a number of food shops and Asian delicatessens on the odd-numbered side of rue St-Antoine, 4e (Map; St-Paul), as well as several supermarkets. Closer to Bastille there are lots of food shops along rue de la Roquette (Map; Voltaire or Bastille) towards place Léon Blum.

Supermarkets include: Ed l’Épicier (Map; 80 rue de Rivoli, 4e; 9am-8pm Mon-Sat; Hôtel de Ville), Franprix Marais (Map; 135 rue St-Antoine, 4e; 9am-9pm Mon-Sat; St-Paul), Franprix Bretagne branch (Map; 49 rue de Bretagne, 3e; 8.30am-9pm Tue-Sat, 9am-2pm Sun; Arts et Métiers), Franprix (Map; 87 rue de la Verrerie, 4e; 9.30am-9pm Mon-Sat; Hôtel de Ville), Monoprix (Map; basement, 71 rue St-Antoine, 4e; 9am-9pm Mon-Sat, to 8pm Sun; St-Paul), Monoprix Bastille branch (Map; 97 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 11e; 9am-9.45pm Mon-Sat; Ledru Rollin), Supermarché G20 (Map; 81-83 rue de la Verrerie, 4e; 8.30am-8.30pm; Hôtel de Ville), Supermarché G20 Bastille (Map; 115 rue St-Antoine, 4e; 9am-8.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Paul), and the late-opening Monop’ (Map; 62-64 rue de la Roquette, 11e; 9am-midnight Mon-Sat; Voltaire).

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THE ISLANDS

Famed more for its ice cream than dining options, Île St-Louis is a pricey place to eat, although there are a couple of fine places worth a brunch or lunchtime munch with, depending on which you choose, some great street entertainment (Click here) thrown in for free. As for Île de la Cité, forget it – eating spots are almost nonexistent.

MON VIEIL AMI Map    French, Alsatian €€€

01 40 46 01 35; 69 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; menus €15 (lunch only) & €41; lunch Wed-Sun, dinner to 10.15pm Tue-Sun; Pont Marie

You’re treated like an old friend – thus the name – from the minute you enter this sleek black bistro in one of Paris’ most sought-after neighbourhoods. The pâté in pastry crust is a fabulous starter and any of the Alsatian mains are worth exploring. The chocolate tart is the pick of the desserts.

SORZA Map    International €€€

01 43 54 78 62; www.restaurant-sorza.fr, in French; 51 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; starters €11-15, mains €16-40, 2-/3-course menu incl wine €18/22; noon-10.30pm daily; Pont Marie

It’s all very trendy at this black-and-red cube where a buoyant crowd dines well any time of day. Its weekend brunches (€18) ooze health-conscious ingredients, as does its stylish Italianate cuisine. We ate an octopus salad, followed by foie gras risotto and French-baked panettone with caramelised pears. Should hunger not have struck yet, enjoy a drink at the flashy orange neon bar.

BRASSERIE DE L’ÎLE ST-LOUIS Map    French, Brasserie €€

01 43 54 02 59; 55 quai de Bourbon, 4e; starters €10-15, mains €17.50; 6pm-1am Thu, noon-midnight Fri-Tue; Pont Marie

Founded in 1870, this riverside brasserie enjoys a spectacular location on the Seine just across the footbridge (prime busking spot) between Île de St-Louis and Île de la Cité. Feast on old faithfuls like choucroute garnie (sauerkraut with meat), jarret (veal shank), cassoulet and onglet de bœuf (prime rib of beef) or simply revel in the riverside location over a coffee/beer/Berthillon ice cream (opposite).

LES FOUS DE L’ÎLE Map    French, Tearoom €€

01 43 25 76 67; 33 rue des Deux Ponts, 4e; starters €6.50-9, mains €14, menu €15 (lunch), €19 & €25; noon-11pm Tue-Sat, to 7pm Sun; Pont Marie

Innovative café-style dishes served from an open kitchen into a relaxed but arty setting ensure this friendly, down-to-earth salon de thé and restaurant is always busy. Dining is around old wooden tables and there’s loads to look at, not least some cutting-edge photography and art shows when it moonlights as exhibition space. Our favourite meal: stuffed mussels with caramelised almonds, followed by roast lamb in a rosemary sauce.

LE FLORE EN L’ÎLE Map    French, Tearoom €€

01 43 29 88 27; 42 quai d’Orléans, 4e; snacks €8, lunch €14; 8am-1am daily; Pont Marie

A tourist crowd piles into this excellent people-watching spot for several very good reasons – its simple coffee ‘n’ croissant breakfast and Full Monty bacon ‘n’ egg brunch (€21); its club sandwich–style lunches (€14); its afternoon crepes (€8); its Berthillon ice-cream shakes and sundaes (from €9.80 to €15); and its prime views of the buskers on Pont St-Louis. Look for the long queue in front of its Berthillon take-away ice-cream counter.

BERTHILLON Map    Ice Cream €

01 43 54 31 61; 31 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; ice creams €2.10-5.40; 10am-8pm Wed-Sun; Pont Marie

Berthillon is to ice cream what Château Lafite Rothschild is to wine and Valhrona is to chocolate. And with among 70 flavours to choose from, you’ll be spoilt for choice. While the fruit flavours (eg cassis) produced by this celebrated glacier (ice-cream maker) are renowned, the chocolate, coffee, marrons glacés (candied chestnuts), Agenaise (Armagnac and prunes), noisette (hazelnut) and nougat au miel (honey nougat) are richer. The takeaway counter of this café has one/two/three/four small scoops for €2.10/3.20/4.30/5.40.

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SELF-CATERING

On Île de St-Louis, there are a couple of fromageries on rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e, as well as small supermarket Le Prestige d’Alimentation (Map; 67 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; 8am-10pm Wed-Mon) and Boulangerie St-Louis (Map; 80 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e) which sells well-filled sandwiches, quiche slices and cheese-topped hot dogs in baguettes to take away.


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LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES

From cheap-eat student haunts to chandelier-lit palaces loaded with history, the 5e arrondissement has something to suit every budget and culinary taste. Rue Mouffetard is famed for its food market and food shops, while its side streets, especially pedestrian rue du Pot au Fer, cook up some fine budget dining.

A tourist-busy concentration of ethnic restaurants is squeezed into the maze of narrow streets, a duck and a dive from Notre Dame across the Seine, between rue St-Jacques, blvd St-Germain and blvd St-Michel: Rue Boutebrie alone cooks up Georgian, Tunisian, Japanese and south American; rue Xavier Privas, rue St-Steven and rue de la Huchette heave with budget restaurants flouncing €15 menus.

LA TOUR D’ARGENT Map    French, Classical €€€

01 43 54 23 31; www.latourdargent.com; 15 quai de la Tournelle, 5e; menu lunch €70, dinner à la carte around €250; lunch Wed-Sun, dinner to 9pm Tue-Sun; Cardinal Lemoine or Pont Marie

A much-vaunted riverside address, the Silver Tower is famous – for its caneton (duckling), Michelin stars that come and go, rooftop garden with Notre Dame view and fabulous history harking back to 1582. Its wine cellar is one of Paris’ best, dining is dressy and exceedingly fine. Should you fail to snag a table (reserve eight to 10 days ahead for lunch, three weeks ahead for dinner), pop into its boutique opposite to buy an edible, oenological or silver souvenir that says ‘quack’ to take home.

ALEF-BET Map    Jewish,    Kosher €€€

01 40 18 17 22; www.alef-bet.biz, in French; 25 rue Galande, 5e; cooking course with meal €45-55; 10am-8pm or 11pm daily; Maubert Mutualité

A tricky one to categorise, this bold red-and-white food space named after the first two letters of the Hebrew alphabet is a kosher café and cooking-school-cum-épicerie. The essential principle sees a cultured crowd mingle in an open kitchen for a one- to three-hour cooking course, after which they share the fruits of their labour around a beautifully laid table. Be it lunch, brunch, dinner, a Friday-night Shabbat or thematic evening soirée, Alef-Bet screams design and innovation. The café sells fruit cocktails and light snacks; the shop sells designer kitchen utensils and gadgets; and the cooking sessions sell out like hot cakes – book in advance online. Opening hours vary, depending on what course is on.

L’AOC Map    French, Classical €€€

01 43 54 22 52; www.restoaoc.com; 14 rue des Fosses St-Bernard, 5e; meals around €35; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Cardinal Lemoine

‘Bistrot carnivore’ is the strapline of this tasty little number concocted around France’s most respected culinary products. The concept here is AOC (appellation d’origine contrôlée), meaning everything has been reared or made according to strict guidelines designed to protect a product unique to a particular village, town or area. The result? Only the best! Rare is the chance to taste porc noir de Bigorre, a type of black piggie bred in the Pyrénées.

LES VIGNES DU PANTHÉON Map    French, Southwest €€€

01 43 54 80 81; 4 rue des Fossés St-Jacques, 5e; starters €8-15, mains €18-35, menus €30 & €35; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 10pm Mon-Sat; Luxembourg

Stroll but a few paces down the hill from the Panthéon to find this charming bistro, owned and managed by a husband-and-wife team who dish up an appealing cocktail of southwest-inspired cuisine with the accompaniment of fine wine. Old-fashioned wood panelling in the front room, exposed stone out back and the flicker of candles ensure a certain romance in the air.

MAVROMMÁTIS Map    Greek €€€

01 43 31 17 17; www.mavrommatis.fr; 42 rue Daubenton, 5e; starters €12-18, mains €20-30, menus lunch €28 & €35, dinner €42 & €68; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Censier Daubenton

Sea-blue window frames and olive trees in giant terracotta pots whisk gourmet punters off to the Med at this well-established Greek restaurant. One bite into a tarama-drenched toast, aubergine fumée (smoked aubergine), salade grecque (tomatoes, lettuce, peppers and feta) or crépines d’agneau sur lit de tomates, courgettes et pommes de terre (lamb tripe with tomatoes, courgette and potatoes) and those inauthentic Greek takeaway joints on rue de la Huchette and streets like rue St-Séverin are instantly put to shame. Reserve in advance.

PERRAUDIN Map    French €€€

01 46 33 15 75; www.restaurant-perraudin.com, in French; 157 rue St-Jacques, 5e; starters €10-20, mains €15-30, menus lunch/dinner €19/29; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Fri; Luxembourg

Perraudin is a traditional French restaurant with embroidered handkerchief lampshades. If that doesn’t put you off, launch yourself into this blast to the past with classics such as bœuf bourguignon (beef marinated and cooked in red wine with mushrooms, onions, carrots and bacon), gigot d’agneau (leg of lamb), confit de canard or flamiche (leek pie from northern France). Prices are reasonable (the plat du jour at lunchtime costs €12) and the place has atmosphere, even if it is a tad on the shabby side.

THE TEA CADDY Map    Tearoom €€€

01 43 54 15 56; 14 rue St-Julien le Pauvre, 5e; set brunch/lunch €26/28; 11am-6pm Wed-Mon; St-Michel Notre Dame

Arguably the most English of the ‘English’ tearooms in Paris, this institution, founded in 1928, is a fine place to break for lunch or tea and a Devon scone with double cream and jam after a tour of nearby Notre Dame, Ste-Chapelle or the Conciergerie.

CHEZ RENÉ Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 43 54 30 23; 14 blvd St-Germain, 5e; starters €10-15, mains €18-26; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Cardinal Lemoine or Maubert Mutualité

Proud owner of one of blvd St-Germain’s busiest pavement terraces, Chez René has been an institution since the 1950s. Perfect for punters seeking no surprises, cuisine is quintessentially bistro: Think pot au feu (beef stew), coq au vin (chicken cooked in wine), rognons de veau (calf kidneys) etc accompanied by your pick of garnitures (fries, boiled potatoes, fresh spinach or other veg of the season etc) and sauces (béchamel, béarnaise, bourgognoise etc). A classic.

LE COUPE-CHOU Map    French, Romantic €€€

01 46 33 68 69; www.lecoupechou.com, in French; 9 & 11 rue de Lanneau, 5e; starters €12.50-15.50, mains €19-25, menu lunch €19, dinner €26.50; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat, dinner to 11.30pm Sun; Maubert Mutualité

Well hidden but well known among Paris expats, this maze of candle-lit rooms snaking through a vine-clad 17th-century townhouse is overwhelmingly romantic. Ceilings are beamed, furnishings are antique, and background classical music mingles with the intimate chatter of diners. Le Coupe-Chou, incidentally, has nothing to do with cabbage (chou); rather it’s named after the barber’s razor once wielded with a deft hand in one of its seven rooms. As in the days when Marlene Dietrich et al dined here, advanced reservations are all essential.

LE PETIT PONTOISE Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 43 29 25 20; 9 rue de Pontoise, 5e; starters €8-13.50, mains €15-25; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm daily; Maubert Mutualité

Plop yourself down at a wooden table, note the lace curtains hiding you from the world, and pig out on fantastic old-fashioned classics like rognons de veau à l’ancienne (calf kidneys), boudin campagnard (black pudding) and sweet apple purée or roast quail with dates at this great bistro. Dishes might seem simple, but you’ll leave pledging to return.

LA MOSQUÉE DE PARIS Map    North African €€€

01 43 31 38 20; www.la-mosquee.com; 39 rue Geoffroy St-Hilaire, 5e; mains €13.50-25; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm daily; Censier Daubenton or Place Monge

Dig into one of 11 types of couscous (from €13 to €25), two hands’ worth of tajines (from €15.50 to €17) or a meaty grill (€14.50) at this authentic restaurant tucked within the walls of the city’s central mosque. Feeling decadent? Plump for a peppermint tea (€2) and a calorie-loaded pâtisserie orientale (€2) between trees and chirping birds in the North African–style tearoom ( 9am-11.30pm) or, better still, a formule orientale (€58) which includes a body scrub, 10-minute massage and lounge in the hammam (Turkish bath) as well as lunch, mint tea and sweet pastry.

CHEZ LÉNA ET MIMILLE Map    French €€

01 47 07 72 47; www.chezlenaetmimile.fr; 32 rue Tournefort, 5e; plat du jour €9.50, mains €20, menus €28 & €55; lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Censier Daubenton

One of Paris’s bonnes tables with a fabulous terrace, this intimate restaurant peeps down on a tiny park with fountain and comical equestrian statue. Its notably varied and choice-loaded menu, moreover, allows diners to decide just how fine or otherwise the experience will be. Fancy a simple plate of finely sliced Iberian salami over a lazy glass of wine? Or you want the whole multiple-course hog? Then the Menu Note à Note (€55), finely tuned to the culinary principles of molecular gastronomy (know what that is?), is an exquisite choice.

MOISSONIER Map    French, Lyonnais €€

01 43 29 87 65; 28 rue des Fossés St-Bernard, 5e; starters €7-13, mains €20, menu €24; lunch & dinner to 9.30pm Tue-Sat; Cardinal Lemoine

It’s Lyon, not Paris, that French gourmets venerate as the French food capital (they have a point). Indeed, take one bite of a big fat andouillette (pig-intestine sausage), tablier de sapeur (breaded, fried stomach), traditional quenelles (fish-flavoured dumplings) or boudin noir aux pommes (black pudding with apples) and you’ll realise why. A perfect reflection of one of France’s most unforgettable regional cuisines, Moissonier is worth the wait. Look for the elegant oyster-grey façade opposite the university.

LE BABA BOURGEOIS Map    French, Trendy €€

01 44 07 46 75; http://lebababourgeois.com, in French; 5 quai de la Tournelle, 5e; mains €15-20; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Wed-Sat, 11.30am-5pm Sun; Cardinal Lemoine or Pont Marie

It’s all very trendy, le BB. Bang-slap on the Seine with a pavement terrace facing Notre Dame, this contemporary eating and drinking space is a former architect’s studio. Its interior screams 1970s Italian design and the menu – imaginative tartines (open sandwiches), terrines, tartes salées (savoury tarts) and salads – makes for a simple stylish bite any time. Sunday ushers in a splendid all-day buffet brunch, à volonté (all you can eat).

FOUNTI AGADIR Map    Moroccan €€

01 43 37 85 10; www.fountiagadir.com, in French; 117 rue Monge, 5e; starters €8-10, mains €11.50-20; menu lunch €12.50, dinner €36; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Censier Daubenton

The décor is as richly coloured as the delicious couscous (€11.50 to €16), tajines (€13.50 to €15) and pastillas (around €8) cooked up in this busy Moroccan kitchen. The best on the Left Bank, some say. Dinner menus are for parties of 10 or more; otherwise, it’s simply à la carte.

AL DAR Map    Lebanese €€

01 43 25 17 15; 8-10 rue Frédéric Sauton, 5e; starters €6.50-10, mains €10-20; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Maubert Mutualité

This is a popular, award-winning Lebanese restaurant with a terrace open in the warmer months. For those pressed for time, an excellent delicatessen ( 7.30am-midnight) selling meze, mini pizzas, sandwiches and other cheap eats to munch on the move is attached.

LE BUISSON ARDENT Map    French, Bistro €€

01 43 54 93 02; www.lebuissonardent.fr, in French; 25 rue Jussieu, 5e; mains €19, menus lunch €14 & €19, dinner €31; lunch & dinner to 10pm Mon-Fri, dinner to 10pm Sat; Jussieu

Stéphane Mauduit (gastronomy-mad chef) and his childhood, wine-mad mate, Jean-Thomas Lopez, head the team at this pocket-sized bistrot gastronomique where a local set flocks for lunch. In true bistro fashion, tables are jammed tightly together and the cuisine is traditional with an inventive kick. Think cheese-stuffed courgette, minestrone soup with pan-fried langoustine tails or scallops with a chicory fondue and sweet pepper ‘n’ anchovy coulis.

MAYJU Map    World, Tearoom €€

01 44 07 13 29; 36 rue des boulangers, 5e; 2-/3-course menu lunch €14/18; noon-5pm & 7-10pm Mon-Sat; Cardinal Lemoine

Wedged between the Sorbonne and Paris University, Mayju is a Zen retreat in a frenetic part of Paris. Pink and black are clearly the favourite colours of the interior designer – love the gargantuan pink rose, darling – whose modish mezzanine area oozes style. Pick from four starters, four plats (mains) alongside four savoury tartes (€6) and no guessing how many desserts. ‘Saveurs du monde’ (world flavours) is the culinary theme.

LE PRÉ VERRE Map    French, Bistro €€

01 43 54 59 47; 25 rue Thénard, 5e; starters €6, mains €17, 2-/3-course menu €13/27.50; lunch & dinner Tue-Sat; Maubert Mutualité

Noisy, busy and buzzing, this jovial bistro run by the Delacourcelle brothers plunges diners into the heart of a Parisian’s Paris. At lunchtime join the flock and go for the fabulous-value formule dejeuner (€13) – the day we were there it had curried chickpea soup, guinea-fowl thigh spiced with ginger on a bed of red and green cabbage, a glass of wine and loads of ultra-crusty, ultra-chewy baguette (the best). Desserts mix Asian spices with traditional French equally well. Philippe cooks but is constantly in and out the kitchen, throwing around his charm, while Marc is the man behind the interesting wine list, which features France’s small independent vignerons (wine producers).

SAVANNAH CAFÉ Map    World, Bistro €€

01 43 29 45 77; www.savannahcafe.fr; 27 rue Descartes, 5e; starters €7-16, mains €13-15; dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Cardinal Lemoine

The food at this hip little bistro is as eclectic as its retro, carnival-like decorations and choice of world music. Tabouli mixes with tortellini as does hummus with mozzarella and fromage blanc (cream cheese) with baklava. Can’t decide? Kick off with the mixed plate of starters that flit from Italy to Lebanon to India.

BOUTIQUE CENSIER Map    Greek, Delicatessen €€

01 45 35 96 50; 47 rue Censier, 5e; mains €10-15; 9am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Censier Daubenton

Pocket-sized and scarcely big enough to swing a shopping basket – but who cares when the food is so delicious? The self-catering arm of Mavrommátis, this traiteur (delicatessen-caterer) is the pit-stop for a discerning lunchtime crowd who don’t have hours to dine but still want to dine well. Most takeaway dishes are just like those served in its big-brother restaurant.

LES CINQ SAVEURS D’ANANDA Map    Organic €€

01 43 29 58 54; 72 rue du Cardinal Lemoine, 5e; plats du jour €13.90 & €14.90, menu €26.90; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sun; Cardinal Lemoine

Set back from place de la Contrescarpe, this bright semi-vegetarian – it serves fish – restaurant is much-loved by health-food lovers. Ingredients are fresh and 100% bio. Décor is simple, refined and stylish.

MACHU PICCHU Map    South American €€

01 43 26 13 13; 9 rue Royer Collard, 5e; starters €6.50-8.20, mains €8.50-14.90, menu lunch €10.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; Luxembourg

Students adore this place, named after the lost city of the Incas in Peru. But doesn’t Peruvian food mean guinea-pig fricassee? No. This hidey-hole, going strong since the 1980s, serves excellent meat and seafood dishes as well as a bargain-basement lunch menu and plats du jour (€6). No credit cards.

LE JARDIN DES PÂTES Map    Organic €€

01 43 31 50 71; 4 rue Lacépède, 5e; mains €9.50-14; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Place Monge

A crisp white-and-green façade handily placed next to a Vélib’ station flags the Pasta Garden, a simple, smart 100% bio (organic) place where pasta comes in every guise imaginable – barley, buckwheat, rye, wheat, rice, chestnut and so on. Our favourite: pâtes de chataignes (chestnut pasta) with duck breast, nutmeg, crème fraîche and mushrooms. If you’re in the 13e arrondissement nip into its second branch (Map; 01 45 35 93 67; 33 blvd Arago, 13e; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Les Gobelins).

LES PIPOS Map    French, Wine Bar €€

01 43 54 11 40; www.les-pipos.com, in French; 2 rue de l’École Polytechnique, 5e; plats du jour €11.80-13.50; 8am-2am Mon-Sat; Maubert Mutualité

A feast for the eyes and the senses, this bar à vins is constantly propped up by a couple of regulars over 60. Bistro tables wear red and white, and are so close you risk disturbing the entire house should you need the loo midway through your meal. Its charcuteries de terroir (regional cold meats and sausages) is mouth-watering, as is its cheese board, which includes all the gourmet names (bleu d’Auvergne, St-Félicien, St-Marcellin etc). Indeed, take one glance at the titles on the bookshelf (feel free to browse) and you’ll realise Les Pipos’ overtly casual, laidback scene is a guise for feasting on the finer things in a French foodie’s life.

KOOTCHI Map    Afghan €€

01 44 07 20 56; 40 rue du Cardinal Lemoine, 5e; mains €12, menus lunch €9.50 & €12.50, dinner €15.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Cardinal Lemoine

A menagerie of carpets, traditional instruments and other jumble lend this Afghan restaurant a definite Central-Asian caravanserai air. The welcome is warm and the food, warming. Specialities include qhaboli palawo (veal stew with nuts and spices); dogh, a drink not unlike salted Indian lassi; and traditional halwa (a type of sweet cake) perfumed with rose and cardamom. Vegetarians keen to spice up their culinary life should plump for borani palawo (spicy vegetable stew) as a main course.

AUX CÉRISES DE LUTÈCE Map    Tearoom €

01 43 31 67 51; 86 rue Monge, 5e; mains €10; 11am-6.30pm Tue-Sat; Place Monge

A feast for the eyes and tastebuds, this cosy eating space, heaped with colourful tea pots, jugs and jumble, is the type of place that would wear flowery wellies. As much café and tearoom as lunchtime restaurant, it serves breakfast all day (from €8 to €14) alongside salads, quiches and tartines. Market mornings see punters clawing for the trio of tables on the pavement out front.

TASHI DELEK Map    Tibetan €

01 43 26 55 55; 4 rue des Fossés St-Jacques, 5e; soups & bowls €4-6.80, mains €6.90-9.80, menus lunch €10.50, dinner €20; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Luxembourg

Gourmet it might not be; cheap, tasty and inexpensive, it is. Tickle the tastebuds with a tsampa (vegetable and barley soup), followed by delicious daril seu (meatballs with garlic, ginger and rice) or tselmok (cheese and vegetable ravioli). Then wash the whole lot down with traditional or salted-butter tea. Don’t forget to say ‘tashi delek’ upon entering – it means ‘bonjour’ in Tibetan.

SUSHI WASABI Map    Japanese €

01 44 07 06 88; 86 blvd St-Germain, 5e; menu lunch €7, 12 piece sushi €9.50, 14-piece sushi-maki €8; 11.30am-10.30pm daily; Maubert Mutualité

It’s hardly five star, but for the price who cares? This cheap and cheerful Japanese traiteur serves pre-prepared sushi, maki, futo maki etc and a good choice of hot meils to a quick-eat crowd. Jugs of water and condiments are readily placed on each long, shared table, sushi platters include a bowl of miso, and there’s free tea or coffee to finish. Dishes to take away.

LE FOYER DU VIETNAM Map    Vietnamese €

01 45 35 32 54; 80 rue Monge, 5e; starters €3-6, mains €6-8.50, menus €8.20 & €12.20; lunch & dinner to 10pm Mon-Sat; Place Monge

The ‘Vietnam Club’, with its self-proclaimed ambiance familiale (family atmosphere), might be nothing more than a long room with peeling walls and tables covered in oilcloths and plastic flowers, but everyone flocks here to feast on its hearty house specialities, ‘Saigon’ or ‘Hanoi’ soup (noodles, soya beans and pork flavoured with lemon grass, coriander and chives) included. Dishes come in medium or large portions and the price/quality ratio is astonishing. Students can fill up for €7.

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SELF-CATERING

Shop with Parisians at a trio of lively outdoor food markets, framed (as with every market), by some lovely food shops: Place Maubert, rue Mouffetard and Place Monge.

Supermarkets in the area include:

 
  • Champion (Map; 34 rue Monge, 5e; Cardinal Lemoine)
  • Ed (Map; 37 rue Lacépède, 5e; Place Monge)
  • Le Marché Franprix (Map; 82 rue Mouffetard, 5e; Place Monge)
  • Monoprix (Map; 24 blvd St-Michel, 5e; 9am-midnight Mon-Sat)

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ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG

There’s far more to this fabled pocket of Paris – effectively the 6e arrondissement – than the literary cafés (Click here) of Sartre and de Beauvoir or the prime picnicking turf of the Jardin de Luxembourg. Rue St-André des Arts and its continuation, rue du Buci, are lined with places to drink and dine as lightly or lavishly as your heart/wallet desires, as is the stretch between Église St-Sulpice and Église St-Germain des Prés (especially rue des Canettes, rue Princesse and rue Guisarde). Quintessential Parisian bistros and brasseries abound in this busy neck of the Left Bank, but if contemporary design à la Terence Conran is more your style, restaurant Alcazar is the smart choice.

LE SALON D’HÉLÈNE Map    French, Contemporary    €€€

01 42 22 00 11; www.helenedarroze.com; 4 rue d’Assas, 6e; menu lunch €35/45, dinner €88; lunch & dinner to 10.15pm Tue-Sat; Sèvres Babylone

While culinary star and media darling Hélène Darroze has a fine-dining Michelin-starred restaurant (called La Salle à Manger) upstairs, this more casual ‘salon’ is far more fun. The best way to experience her wonderful creations come dusk is to persuade your table to each order the tapas-sized tasting menu (€88). Five courses come in matched pairs, each dish with descriptions longer than this review. Lunch menus include a choice of two/three tapas with one/two glasses of wine.

LE PETIT ZINC Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 42 86 61 00; www.petit-zinc.com, in French; 11 rue St-Benoît, 6e; starters €8.50-19.50, mains €17.50-38, menu €35; noon-2am daily; St-Germain des Prés

Not a ‘little bar but a wonderful, large brasserie serving mountains of fresh seafood, traditional French cuisine and regional specialities from the southwest in true Art Nouveau splendour. The term brasserie is used loosely here; you’ll feel more like you’re in a starred restaurant, so book ahead and dress accordingly.

SENSING Map    French, Contemporary €€€

01 43 27 08 80; www.restaurantsensing.com; 19 rue Bréa, 6e; starters €21-24, mains €32-37, menu lunch €25, dinner €95; dinner to 10.30pm Mon, lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sat; Vavin

Don’t worry about arriving at this elegant address with a hair out of place or smudged lipstick – a quick preen in the mirrored door upon entering will sort it out. The swanky ‘affordable-bistro’ creation of Michelin-starred celebrity chef Guy Martin, Sensing is one of those try-hard New York–type places with an interior design so cutting edge it seriously distracts from the food (oddly, glance quickly from the outside and you could easily mistake it for a luxury jewellery shop, although another review I read mentioned a hairdresser’s…). ‘Snacking’ is the trendy name for pre-dinner nibbles.


top picks
ST-GERMAIN LUNCH SPOTS
 

LES BOUQUINISTES Map    French, Contemporary €€€

01 43 25 45 94; 53 quai des Grands Augustins, 6e; starters €12-17.50. mains €27.50-31, 2-/3-course menus lunch €25/28; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Thu, lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Sat; St-Michel

This stylish eating space courtesy of Guy Savoy sits across from Notre Dame and the Seine-side booksellers. Modern but elegant décor aside, its menu lures gourmets with tantalising dishes such as Brittany crab ravioli with lobster and fennel in a lemongrass juice, veal shank or a spiced duck filet. Don’t torture yourself over which dessert to pick – the dessert for two (€20) features a tiny tasty morsel of each.

ZE KITCHEN GALERIE Map    Fusion €€€

01 44 32 00 32; 4 rue des Grands Augustins, 6e; starters €15, mains €28, 2-/3-course menu lunch €29/39; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Sat; St-Michel

William Ledeuil’s passion for Southeast Asian travel oozes out of the feisty dishes he creates in his Michelin single-starred glass-box kitchen, which hosts three to five different art exhibitions a year. The menu is a vibrant feast of broths loaded with Thai herbs and coconut milk, meat and fish cooked à la plancha and inventive desserts like sweet chestnut-and-vanilla soup. Service is speedy and lunch menus include a glass of wine and coffee.

BOUILLON RACINE Map    French, Classical €€€

01 44 32 15 60; 3 rue Racine, 6e; starters €7.50-14.50, mains €15.50-28, menus €14.90 (lunch) & €29; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Cluny La Sorbonne

We’ve never seen anything quite like this ‘soup kitchen’, built in 1906 to feed market workers. A gorgeous Art Nouveau palace with mirrored walls, floral motifs and ceramic tiling, the interior is a positive delight. Oh, and the food? Wholly classic inspired by age-old recipes such as roast snails, caille confite (preserved quail) and lamb shank with liquorice. Finish off your foray in gastronomic history with an old-fashioned sherbet.

CHEZ ALLARD Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 43 26 48 23; 41 rue St-André des Arts, 6e; starters €8-20, mains €25, 2-/3-course menu €25/34; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Michel

A definite Left Bank favourite is this charming bistro where the staff couldn’t be kinder or more professional – even during its enormously busy lunchtime. And the food is superb. Try a dozen snails, some cuisses de grenouilles (frogs’ legs) or un poulet de Bresse (France’s most legendary chicken, from Burgundy) for two. Enter from 1 rue de l’Éperon.

YEN Map    Japanese €€€

01 45 44 11 18; 22 rue St-Benoît, 6e; mains €20-25, menu lunch €30, dinner €55; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Germain des Prés

This Japanese place – the last word in minimalism with its light wood and charcoal-grey slate floor – is a favourite of resident Japanese and knowledgeable Parisians. It has a flair for soba (Japanese noodles) and tempura and you shouldn’t leave without trying the aubergine in miso. Unusual for Paris, Yen serves and sells bento boxes at lunchtime.

LES ÉDITEURS Map    French, Café €€€

01 43 26 67 76; 4 Carrefour de l’Odéon, 6e; starters €10-18, mains €17.50-25; 8am-2am daily; Odéon

This place goes to great lengths to describe itself as café, restaurant, library, bar and salon de thé, but for us it’s a place to eat and/or people-watch. It is intended for writers – there are more than 5000 books on hand and it’s done up to feel like a slightly faded and dingy library – but it has floor-to-ceiling windows through which you can watch the Germanopratin (yes, there is an adjective for St-Germain des Prés) goings-on. Its daily breakfasts/Sunday brunch are a snip at €8.50 to €12/25.50.

L’ARBUCI Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 44 32 16 00; 25 rue du Buci, 6e; starters €7-18, mains €16-25; noon-midnight daily; Mabillon

A popular choice for breakfast or brunch, this airy lounge bar with big, street-facing windows buzzes. Its décor is a contemporary take on traditional brasserie-style and the easygoing menu caters to all tastes, including those whose buds go wild over bottomless plates of oysters. Prime real estate, the packed tables on the pavement terrace in front see you vying for foot space with passing pedestrians. Live jazz in the basement on Fridays and Saturdays.

BRASSERIE LIPP Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 45 48 53 91; www.brasserie-lipp.fr/page3.html; 151 blvd St-Germain, 6e; starters €10-15, mains €15.50-25; noon-2am daily; St-Germain des Prés

Politicians rub shoulders with intellectuals, while waiters in black waistcoats, bow ties and long white aprons serve brasserie favourites like choucroute garnie and jarret de porc aux lentilles (pork knuckle with lentils) at this celebrated wood-panelled café, opened by Léonard Lipp in 1880.

HUÎTERIE REGIS Map    Oyster Bar €€

01 44 41 10 07; 3 rue de Montfaucon, 6e; dozen oysters & glass wine €22.50; 11am-midnight Tue-Sun mid-Sep–mid-Jul; Mabillon

Hip, trendy, tiny and white, this is the spot for revelling in oysters on crisp winter days. They come only by the dozen, along with fresh bread and butter, but wash them down with a glass of chilled Muscadet and voilà, one perfect lunch for €22.50! Two tables loiter on the pavement outside; otherwise it’s all inside.

POLIDOR Map    French €€€

01 43 26 95 34; http://restaurantpolidor.info, in French; 41 rue Monsieur le Prince, 6e; starters €4.50-17, mains €11-22, menus €22 & €32; lunch & dinner to 12.30am Mon-Sat, to 11pm Sun; Odéon

A meal at this quintessentially Parisian crèmerie-restaurant is like a trip to Victor Hugo’s Paris: the restaurant and its décor date from 1845 and everyone knows about it (read: touristy). Still, menus of tasty, family-style French cuisine ensure a never-ending stream of punters eager to sample bœuf bourguignon (€11), blanquette de veau à l’ancienne (veal in white sauce; €15) and the most famous tarte Tatin (€8) in Paris! Expect to wait.

FOGÓN ST-JULIEN Map    Spanish €€

01 43 54 31 33; 45 quai des Grands Augustins, 6e; mains €20, menus €35 & €45; lunch Sat & Sun, dinner to midnight Tue-Sun; St-Michel

Enter Espãna: Fogón St-Julien the best Spanish restaurant in Paris, many say. Indeed, its menu tours Spain with a feast of a menu tapas (€45) but goes well beyond tapas, too, with excellent paellas (vegetable, rabbit, chicken, seafood; €18) and other tasty mains like arroz negro (rice blackened with squid ink & laced with shrimps & cuttlefish).

MAMIE GÂTEAUX Map    Tearoom €

01 42 22 32 15; www.mamie-gateaux.com, in French; 66-70 rue du Cherche-Midi, 6e; lunch €10-15; 11.30am-6pm Tue-Sat; St-Placide & Sèvres-Babylone

A perfect light-lunch spot after a taxing morning savouring the stylish boutiques around nearby Le Bon Marché, this retro tearoom with lace curtains and a brocante (second-hand) décor positively heaves at lunchtime. Funnily enough for this hot shopping area, the clientele is predominantly female and chatty as the electrifying buzz of happy shoppers chomping into homemade quiches, savoury cakes, tarts and salads testifies. For us, the ratatouille-and-mozzarella tart is the icing on the cake.

CHEZ LES FILLES Map    Tearoom €

01 45 48 61 54; 64 rue du Cherche-Midi, 6e; lunch €10-15; 11.30am-4.30pm Mon-Sat, 12.30-5.30pm Sat; St-Placide or Sèvres-Babylone

If Mamie Gâteaux is full, try this other female-filled hot spot which – unlike its grandmotherly neighbour – transports an eager lunch crowd into the land of the Orient. Salads, tajines, savoury tarts and a fantastic value plat du jour (€13) make for a colourful lunch. Midafternoon, refresh parched souls with a pâtisserie orientale and cup of sweet mint tea.

LA JACOBINE Map    Tearoom €

01 46 34 15 95; 59-61 rue St-André des Arts, 6e; lunch €10-15; 11.30am-11.30pm daily; Odéon

What a sweet find! An oldy-worldy hybrid tearoom and busy lunch spot, La Jacobine is packed to the rafters by noon with punters keen to fill up on homemade tarts, giant-sized salads and crèpes. Its lovely location inside Cour du Commerce St-André, a glass-covered passageway built in 1735 to link two Jeu de Paume (old-style tennis) courts, makes it all the more romantic.

INDONESIA Map    Indonesian €€

01 43 25 70 22; 12 rue de Vaugirard, 6e; mains €9-15, menus lunch €11.50 & €12.50, dinner €18-25; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm daily; Luxembourg

One of a couple of Indonesian restaurants in Paris, this well-established eatery, around for more than 25 years, has all the old favourites, from an elaborate, nine-dish rijstafel (rice with side dishes) to lumpia (a type of spring roll), rendang (spicy beef or chicken curry) and gado-gado (vegetable salad with spicy peanut sauce; €6). Numerous menus are available at lunch and dinner. Traditional décor, incense and the gentle rhythm of the gamelan orchestra create a convincing atmosphere. Balinese dancers dance some Friday evenings.

FISH LA BOISSONNERIE Map    Seafood €€

01 43 54 34 69; 69 rue de Seine, 6e; starters €7, mains €14, menu lunch €21.50; lunch & dinner to 10.45pm Tue-Sun; Mabillon

A hybrid of a Mediterranean place run by a New Zealander (of Cosi fame; Click here) and an American, with its rustic communal seating and bonhomie, Fish has surely taken its cue from London, where such places have been a mainstay for several years. The wine selection is excellent – it’s almost as much a wine bar as a restaurant – and the wonderful old mosaic on the front façade is a delight.

LE MÂCHON D’HENRI Map    French €€

01 43 29 08 70; 8 rue Guisarde, 6e; starters €6-8, mains €12-14; lunch & dinner until 11.30pm daily; St-Sulpice or Mabillon

What with the gaggle of hungry customers constantly waiting for a seat and the extraordinary proximity of the 10 marble-topped tables, this is one busy, tiny bistro. But the staff, seemingly exclusively male and over a certain age, are smile and charm personified. And the menu, crammed with feisty French staples like boudin noir aux pommes (black pudding with apples) from Lyon, saucisse de Morteau (a type of sausage) and lentils from the Jura or tripe cooked Caen-style, guarantees you’ll leave absolutely stuffed.

COSI Map    Sandwich Bar €

01 46 33 35 36; 54 rue de Seine, 6e; sandwich menus €9-11; noon-11pm daily; Odéon

An institution in the 6th for a quick cheap eat in or out, Cosi could easily run for Paris’ most imaginative sandwich maker: with sandwich names like Stonker, Tom Dooley and Naked Willi, how could you expect otherwise? Classical music playing in the background and homemade Italian bread, still warm from the oven, only adds to Cosi’s natural sex appeal which, incidentally, is of New Zealand origin.

BAR À SOUPES ET QUENELLES GIRAUDET Map    French, Lyonnais €€

01 43 25 44 44; www.giraudet.fr, in French; 5 rue Princesse, 6e; lunch around €10; 10am-5pm Mon, 10am-5pm & 7-11.30pm Tue-Fri, 10am-11.30pm Sat; Mabillon

This soup-and-dumpling bar is a perfect spot in shop-busy St-Germain to rest legs on a bar stool and tuck into a light ‘n’ tasty lunch. Soups are thick, creamy, seasonal, organic and packed with unusual combinations – pear and litchi, chestnut or cardoon perhaps? But it is the typical Lyonnais quenelles (pike-perch dumplings) topped with a sauce of your choice that steal the show. Buy some to eat at home afterwards from the nearby Boutique Giraudet ( 01 43 25 23 00; 16 rue Mabillon, 6e; 2.30-7.30pm Mon, 10am-1pm & 1.30-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Mabillon).

AMORINO Map    Ice Cream €

01 43 26 57 46; 4 rue de Buci, 6e; 1/2/3 scoops €3/4/5; noon-midnight daily; St-Germain des Prés

Though not such dedicated lécheurs (lickers) as some, we’re told that Berthillon has serious competition and Amorino’s homemade ice cream (yogurt, caramel, kiwi, strawberry etc) is, in fact, better. It has no less than 10 others branches in Paris, including Amorino Luxembourg (Map; 01 42 22 66 86; 4 rue Vavin, 6e; Vavin) and Amorino Île St-Louis (Map; 01 44 07 48 08; 47 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; Pont Marie).

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SELF-CATERING

Food shops cluster on rue de Seine and rue de Buci, while the covered Marché St-Germain (Map–17; 4-8 rue Lobineau, 6e; 8.30am-1pm & 4-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 8.30am-1pm Sun; Mabillon), just north of the eastern end of Église St-Sulpice, has a huge array of fine fresh produce and prepared food.

Should black pudding turn you on, Charcuterie Charles ( 01 43 54 25 19; 10 rue Dauphiné, 6e; 9am-2pm & 4-8pm Mon-Sat) is your man. One of Paris’ few and most respected boudiniers (sausage makers), Charles Claude is famed for his 18 different types of boudins – black, white, spiced, laced with truffles or chestnuts or shallots.

If you are looking for a supermarket, Champion (Map–17; 79 rue de Seine, 6e; 1-9pm Mon, 8.40am-9pm Tue-Sat, 9am-1pm Sun; Mabillon) should meet your needs.

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MONTPARNASSE

Since the 1920s, the area around blvd du Montparnasse has been one of the city’s premier avenues for enjoying Parisian café life, though younger Parisians deem the place somewhat démodé and touristy these days. Glam it’s not. But it does boast a handful of legendary brasseries and cafés which warrant a culinary visit. Made famous by writers (Click here) and artists like Picasso, Dalí and Cocteau between the wars, these same cafés attracted exiles such as Lenin and Trotsky before the Russian Revolution.

LE DÔME Map    French, Seafood €€€

01 43 35 25 81, 01 43 35 23 95; 108 blvd du Montparnasse, 14e; starters €12.50-25, mains €29-60; lunch & dinner to 23.30pm daily; Vavin

An Art Deco extravaganza dating from the 1930s, Le Dôme is a monumental place for a meal, with a restaurant and poissonnerie where the emphasis, of course, is on the freshest of oysters, shellfish and fish dishes such as sole meunière (sole sautéed in butter and garnished with lemon and parsley). Stick with the basics at this historical venue and leave fussier dishes to the ‘fooding’ upstarts.

LA CLOSERIE DES LILAS Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 40 51 34 50; www.closeriedeslilas.fr; 171 blvd du Montparnasse, 6e; restaurant/brasserie starters €30-50, €11-20, mains €40-50, €22-27, menu lunch €45; restaurant lunch & dinner to 11.30pm, brasserie noon-1am, bar 11-1.30am; Port Royal

As anyone who has read Hemingway will know, what is now the American Bar at the ‘Lilac Enclosure’ is where Papa did a lot of writing, drinking and oyster slurping; brass plaques tell you exactly where he and other luminaries such as Picasso, Apollinaire, Man Ray, Jean-Paul Sartre and Samuel Beckett stood or sat (or fell) and whiled away the hours. The place is split into bar, chic restaurant and more lovable (and cheaper) brasserie with hedged-in pavement terrace.

LA COUPOLE Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 43 20 14 20; 102 blvd du Montparnasse, 14e; starters €6.50-20, mains €12.50-35, menus 24.50 (lunch) & €31.50; 8am-1am Sun-Thu, to 1.30am Fri & Sat; Vavin

The famous mural-covered columns (painted by such artists as Brancusi and Chagall), dark wood panelling and soft lighting have hardly changed an iota since the days of Sartre, Soutine, Man Ray, the dancer Josephine Baker and other regulars. The reason for visiting this enormous, 450-seat brasserie, designed by the Solvet brothers and opened in 1927, is more history than gastronomy. You can book for lunch, but you’ll have to queue for dinner; though there’s always breakfast. The more expensive menus are available until 6pm and after 10.30pm.

LA CAGOUILLE Map    French, Seafood €€€

01 43 22 09 01; www.la-cagouille.fr; 10 place Constantin Brancusi, 14e; starters €11-15, mains €18-33, 2-/3-course menu €26/42; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm daily; Vavin

Chef Gérard Allemandou, one of the best seafood cooks (and cookery book writers) in Paris, gets rave reviews for his fish and shellfish dishes at this café-restaurant opposite 23 rue de l’Ouest. The menus here are exceptionally good value.

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SELF-CATERING

Opposite the Tour Montparnasse is the open-air Blvd Edgar Quinet food market (Map; blvd Edgar Quinet; 7am-2pm Wed & Sat; Edgar Quinet or Montparnasse Bienvenüe). Or shop organic at nearby Marché Raspail or Marché Brancusi.

Convenient supermarkets:

 
  • Atac (Map; 55 av du Maine, 14e; 9am-10pm Mon-Sat; Gaîté)
  • Inno (Map; 29-31 rue du Départ, 14e; 9am-9.50pm Mon-Fri, to 8.50pm Sat; Montparnasse Bienvenüe)

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FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES

Wedged between the tourist hotspot of the Eiffel Tower area and the chic boutiques and literary cafés of St-Germain des Prés, this district – effectively the entire 7e arrondissement – is something of a culinary no-man’s land. That said, Parisians flock here like bees to a honey pot to shop at the Harrods food hall of Paris that sits on its southern fringe, while a couple of highly prized addresses ensure the diplomats and political bods working at the many government ministries and embassies here (not to mention the National Assembly) can schmooze in style. Off the corporate credit card, stroll pedestrian rue Cler and its surrounding streets.

L’ATELIER DE JOËL ROBUCHON Map    International €€€

0 826 101 219; www.restaurants-joel-robuchon.com; 5 rue de Montalembert, 7e; starters €20-45, mains €27-58, menu €110; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Rue du Bac

It’s a mean feat to snag a seat at this celebrity-chef address, which accepts reservations only between 11am and 11.30am the day you want to dine or at precisely 6.30pm for dinner. Once in, you’ll realise what all the fuss is about. Diners are taken on a mind-blowing culinary tour of the finer things in French gastronomy, lobster, sardines, foie gras and milk-fed lamb included. And with accolades like ‘chef of the century’ and ‘world’s best restaurant’ under Joël Robuchon’s belt, you know it’ll be good. Dining is stool-style around a U-shaped black lacquer bar and the décor – bamboo in glass vases and the like – throws in a touch of Japan.

L’ESPLANADE Map    Fusion €€€

01 47 05 38 80; 52 rue Fabert, 7e; meals around €50; lunch & dinner to 12.30am daily; La Tour Maubourg

An address to impress (so dress to impress), Café de l’Esplanade might well be one of those chic, hobnobbing society places to be seen in between business deals – it is of the same Costes brothers ilk as Café Marly, Georges et al, much loved by politicians and journalists. (In the Sarkozy-Cécilia soap opera, this was where the pair made public their reconciliation before splitting again.) But take one look at the astonishing view and you’ll understand why. This is, after all, the only café-restaurant on the magnificent Esplanade des Invalides. No menus – just à la carte until half-past midnight.

BRASSERIE THOUMIEUX Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 47 05 49 75; www.thoumieux.com, in French; 79 rue St-Dominique, 7e; starters €10, mains €25, menus €15 (lunch only) & €35; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; La Tour Maubourg

Chef Christian Beguet has been here since 1979 – and that’s just the tip of the iceberg. Founded in 1923, Thoumieux is an old-school institution just south of the Seine, loved by politicians and tourists alike. Duck thighs, veal, snails…the menu is typical brasserie and the service, silky smooth. It has 10 rooms up top should you need to crash.

LA GRANDE ÉPICERIE Map    Wok & Sandwich Bar €€

01 46 39 81 00; www.lagrandeepicerie.fr; 26 rue de Sèvres, 7e; sandwich menus €9-11; 8.30am-9pm Mon-Sat; Sèvres Babylone

Join the hordes of workers from the offices in this area for a quick tasty lunch at the Espace Pic Nic, in the ground-floor food hall of stylish Le Bon Marché department store. Hover around the bar over a wok-cooked hot dish (€8.05), a design-your-own sandwich (pick the bread type and fillings yourself; €5.38), a self-designed salad (€6.75) or an 11-piece sushi plate (€11.60). Pay marginally less to take the same away, or build your own gourmet picnic from the food hall.

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SELF-CATERING

Just west of Invalides spills an open-air food market six days a week on Rue Cler. Or there’s the finest of fine food halls La Grande Épicerie (see above).

A fromagerie to die for, Quatrehommes (Map; 01 47 34 33 45; 62 rue de Sèvres, 6e; 8.45am-1pm & 4-7.45pm Tue-Thu, 8.45am-7.45pm Fri & Sat; Vanneau) sells the best of every French cheese, many with an original take (eg Epoisses boxed in chestnut leaves, Mont d’Or flavoured with black truffles, spiced honey and Roquefort bread etc). The smell alone as you enter is heavenly.

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EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT

The 16e arrondissement is perhaps the most chichi and snobby part of Paris, the kind of area where a waiter will ask a fluent though non-native speaker of French whether they would like la carte en anglais (English menu). It’s not everyone’s tasse de thé (cup of tea), but a couple of its ethnic restaurants are worth a visit.

MAISON PRUNIER Map    French €€€

01 44 17 35 85; www.prunier.com; 16 av Victor Hugo, 16e; starters €15-49, mains €29-69, menu €59 (lunch only); lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Charles de Gaulle-Étoile

A venerable restaurant founded in 1925, Prunier is as famed for its Art Deco interior as for its own brand of caviar, fish and seafood dishes and dozens of vodkas. Definitely a place for celebrations and the experience of it all; a menu caviar will set you back €155.

LE CRISTAL ROOM Map    French €€€

01 40 22 11 10; www.baccarat.com; 11 place des États-Unis, 16e; mains €25-43, menus €59 (lunch only) & €92; lunch & dinner to 10pm Mon-Sat; Iéna

Located on the first floor of the Galerie-Musée Baccarat, this stunner of a venue features interiors conceived by the over-employed Philippe Starck: mirrors, crystal and even a black chandelier. The menu by Thierry Burlot is excellent but expensive. Note that you will need to book well in advance.

LES OMBRES Map    French €€€

01 47 53 68 00; www.lesombres-restaurant.com; 27 quai Branly, 7e; starters €21-23, mains €33-36; menus €38 (lunch only) & €95; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Sun-Thu, to 11pm Fri & Sat; Pont de l’Alma or Alma-Marceau

Paris not only gained a new museum in the Musée du Quai Branly but also this glass-enclosed rooftop restaurant on the museum’s 5th floor. Named ‘The Shadows’ for the patterns cast by the Eiffel Tower’s webbed ironwork, the dramatic views are complemented by Arnaud Busquet’s elegant creations, such as pan-seared tuna with sesame seeds and onion rings, or lamb with zucchini ravioli and gingerbread.

CAFÉ DE L’HOMME Map    International €€€

01 44 05 30 15; www.restaurant-cafedelhomme.com; 17 place du Trocadéro, 16e; starters €15-24, mains €18-35; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; George V

You probably wouldn’t cross town for the food at the Café de L’Homme, the new restaurant sharing the same wing of the Palais de Chaillot as the Musée de l’Homme and the Musée de la Marine; it’s overpriced and designed for the beautiful people who are flocking here at the moment. But you would travel for the view; virtually any spot at any table is a front-row seat before the Eiffel Tower. This is why you came to Paris.

LA CANTINE RUSSE Map    Russian €€€

01 47 20 56 12; 26 av de New York, 16e; starters €8.90-23, mains €15.50-24.90, menus €15 & €25; lunch & dinner to midnight Mon-Sat; Alma Marceau

Established for the overwhelmingly Russian students at the prestigious Conservatoire Rachmaninov in 1923, this ‘canteen’ is still going strong more than eight decades later. At communal tables you can savour herrings served with blinis, aubergine ‘caviar’, chicken Kiev, beef Stroganov, chachliks (marinated lamb kebabs) and, to complete the tableau, vatrouchka (cream cheese cake).

LE PETIT RÉTRO Map    French €€

01 44 05 06 05; www.petitretro.fr; 5 rue Mesnil, 16e; starters €7-16, mains €15-22, menus €21.90 & €24.90 (lunch only), €29.50 & €34.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; Victor Hugo

From the gorgeous ‘Petit Rétro’ emblazoned on the zinc bar to the Art Nouveau folk tiles, this is a handsome space and one that serves up hearty dishes year-round. With dishes such as rognons de veau poêles (potted veal kidneys) and choucroute maison as house specials, it’s hearty, heart-warming stuff. They’ve expanded in recent years, making the seating less cramped.

LA CHAUMIÈRE EN CHINE Map    Chinese €€

01 47 20 85 56; 26 av Pierre 1er de Serbie, 16e; starters €6.50-9, mains €8-18, menus lunch €12, dinner €17 & €22; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Alma Marceau

Parisians in the know would warn you against eating in ethnic restaurants outside ethnic quartiers, but the Chinese embassy just down the road from this place makes it a notable exception to that rule. The largely Chinese clientele favour the crevettes au sel de cinq parfums (prawns in five spice salt), the canard aux champignons noirs (duck with black mushrooms) and the dim sum.

RESTAURANT MUSÉE DU VIN Map    French €€

01 45 25 63 26; www.museeduvinparis.com; 5 square Charles Dickens (rue des Eaux), 16e; starters €7.50-17, mains €13-16, menus €23, €34 (with champagne) & €58 (with wine); lunch to 3pm Tue-Sat; Passy

Where else to enjoy a wine-paired set menu than at the restaurant of the Musée du Vin? What’s more, a meal here allows you to look at the exhibits for free. Try the terrine de canard en gelée forestière (duck terrine in aspic with berries) followed by the petit salé aux lentilles (lean salt pork with lentils).

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SELF-CATERING

The open-air Marché Prèsident Wilson is convenient to the neighbourhood.

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ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES

The 8e arrondissement seems to have been born under a lucky star. Its broad avenues radiate from place Charles de Gaulle – also known as place de l’Étoile or simply Étoile – and among them is the celebrated av des Champs-Élysées; from the Arc de Triomphe to the place de la Concorde, the ‘Elysian Fields’ rules unchallenged. With very few exceptions, eateries lining this touristy thoroughfare offer little value for money, but those in surrounding areas can be excellent and well-worth seeking out.

SPOON Map    Fusion €€€

01 40 76 34 44; www.spoon-restaurants.com; 14 rue de Marignan, 8e; starters €16-20, mains €20-47, menu €47 (lunch only) & €89; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri; Franklin D Roosevelt

Diners at this Ducasse/Starck-inspired, recently renovated venue are invited to mix and match their own main courses and sauces – pan-seared red mullet, say, with a choice of barbecue, lemon or sesame sauces or duckling with peppers, lemon-parsley butter or crushed olives. It has an excellent selection of New World and non-French European wines.

MARKET Map    French €€€

01 56 43 40 90; 15 av Matignon, 8e; starters €12-27, mains €26-42, menu €34 & €45 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, brunch noon-4.30pm Sat & Sun, dinner to 11.30; Franklin D Roosevelt

Jean-Georges Vongerichten’s very swish restaurant focuses on fresh market produce delivered with signature eclectic combinations and Asian leanings. While it’s less formal than his accolade-adorned restaurants in the US and China, it’s still a refined experience with lunch attracting a business crowd and dinner a somewhat sexier proposition. It’s a place for everyone; breakfast is served from 8am to 11am during the week.

BISTROT DU SOMMELIER Map    French €€€

01 42 65 24 85; www.bistrotdusommelier.com; 97 blvd Haussmann, 8e; starters €14-25, mains €22-32, lunch menus €32 & €39, with wine €42 & €54; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; St-Augustin

This is the place to choose if you are as serious about wine as you are about food. The whole point of this attractive eatery is to match wine with food, and owner Philippe Faure-Brac, one of the world’s foremost sommeliers (Click here), is at hand to help. The best way to sample his wine-food pairings is on Friday, when a three-course tasting lunch with wine is €45 and a five-course dinner with wine is €70e. The food, prepared by chef Jean-André Lallican, is hearty bistro fare and, surprisingly, not all the wines are French.


top picks
LATE-NIGHT BITES
 

GRAINDORGE Map    Belgian €€€

01 47 54 00 28; 15 rue de l’Arc de Triomphe, 17e; starters €12-16, mains €22-30, menu €34; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Charles de Gaulle-Étoile

The name of this stylish restaurant, with its soft lighting, burgundy chairs and banquettes and Art Deco touches, means ‘barleycorn’ – it alludes to the great breweries of Flanders (check out the list of beers on offer). The signature dish is potjevleesch (€12), four kinds of meat cooked slowly together and served in aspic, though you’ll find plenty of other dishes that hint at the Low Countries, including waterzooi de homard (lobster poached with shredded vegetables and served in a creamy broth) and bintje farcie de morue en brandade (potatoes stuffed with cod purée).

BŒUF SUR LE TOIT Map    French €€€

01 53 93 65 55; www.boeufsurletoit.com; 34 rue du Colisée, 8e; mains €19.90 & €29.90; lunch & dinner to 1am daily; St-Philippe du Roule or Franklin D. Roosevelt

Part of the Flo stable of restaurants, the ‘Ox on the Roof’ is yet another museum-quality brasserie that allows you so easily to recall the Paris of the 1920s and 30s. Oysters and other seafood dishes are paramount here, but it’s best to stick with the set menus, which offer bon rapport qualité prix (value for money).

KOK PING Map    Thai, Chinese €€

01 42 25 28 85; www.kokping.com, in French; 4 rue Balzac, 8e; starters €9-12, mains €15-23; menus €22 (lunch only) & €35; lunch Sun-Fri, dinner to 11.30 daily; George V

A very upscale Asian restaurant in a posh part of town, Kok Ping serves classic and very refined Chinese and Thai food to a predominantly business crowd at lunch. But come evening, the place lets its hair down, turning far less formal and becoming almost cosy. There’s a lot of choices for vegetarians with almost 10 meatless mains on offer.

DRAGONS ÉLYSÉES Map    Chinese, Thai €€

01 42 89 85 10; 11 rue de Berri, 8e; starters €8-12, mains €15-22; menus €13.50 (lunch only) & €40; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; George V

This mostly Chinese restaurant is a novelty. Below the tables and chairs perched on different levels and scattered about a large dining room is a glass floor beneath which various types of goldfish cavort. If you enjoy watching your dinner in action, than this is the place for you.

L’ÉTOILE VERTE Map    French €€

01 43 80 69 34; www.etoile-verte.fr, in French; 13 rue Brey, 17e; starters €9-13, mains €13-22, menu €14 (lunch only), dinner €18 & €25 (with wine); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm daily; Charles de Gaulle-Étoile

Founded in 1951, the ‘Green Star’ is where all the old French classics remain: the onion soup, the snails, the rabbit. When one of us was a student in Paris (back when the glaziers were still installing the stained glass at Ste-Chapelle) this was the place for both Esperanto speakers (a green star is their symbol) and students on a splurge. That may have changed, but the lunch menu is still a great deal for this neighbourhood.

BUGSY’S Map    American €€

01 42 68 18 44; 15 rue Montlivet, 8e; salads €12-13.50, mains €11-18.50; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Madeleine

This immensely popular place – it’s heaving at lunchtime, especially with expats – is done up to resemble a Prohibition-era Chicago speakeasy from the 1920s. Food is the please-everyone easy option: Tex-Mex, salads, ploughman’s lunches, burgers (€12 to €13.50) and the intriguing entrecôte irlandaise (Irish rib steak). The huge bar keeps going till 1am daily.

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SELF-CATERING

Rue Poncelet and rue Bayen have some excellent food shops, including the incomparable Fromagerie Alléosse. The huge Monoprix (Map; 62 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 9am-midnight Mon-Sat; Franklin D Roosevelt) at the corner of rue la Boétie has a big supermarket section in the basement, and there’s a Franprix (Map; 12 rue de Surène, 8e; 8.30am-8pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine) near place de la Madeleine.

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CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE

Unlike their neighbour to the west, these areas are not gentrified in the least. Indeed, heading east in the 8e arrondissement, by the time you reach Gare St-Lazare, the shops and architecture have changed and another journey has begun. Around place de Clichy and the eponymous avenue leading north and south from it, a maze of small streets with a pronounced working-class character stretches out, a pocket of old Paris that has survived. These are happy hunting grounds for ethnic eateries and restaurants with character.

CHARLOT, ROI DES COQUILLAGES Map    French, Seafood €€€

01 53 20 48 00; www.charlot-paris.com, in French; 12 place de Clichy, 9e; starters €10.50-29, mains €19.50-39, menus €20 & €26 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight Sun-Wed, to 1am Thu-Sat; Place de Clichy

‘Charlot, the King of Shellfish’ is an Art Deco palace that some Parisians think is the best place in town for no-nonsense seafood. The seafood platters and oysters are why everyone is here, but don’t ignore the wonderful fish soup and mains, such as grilled sardines, sole meunière and bouillabaisse (€38).

BISTRO DES DAMES Map    French €€

01 45 22 13 42; 18 rue des Dames, 17e; starters €6.50-14, mains €13-22; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm; Place de Clichy

This charming little bistro will appeal to lovers of simple, authentic cuisine, such as hearty salads, tortillas and glorious charcuterie platters of pâté de campagne and paper-thin Serrano ham. The dining room, which looks out onto the street, is lovely, but during those humid Parisian summers it’s the cool and tranquillity of the small back garden that pulls in the punters.

LA GAIETÉ COSAQUE Map    Russian €€

01 44 70 06 07; 6 rue Truffaut, 17e; starters €1.90-19.50, mains €16-20.50, menus €9.50 & €11 (lunch only), €23 & €27; lunch & dinner to 11.45pm Mon-Sat; Place de Clichy or Rome

This bistro-like restaurant with the oxymoronic name (Cossack Cheerfulness indeed!) is the place for zakouski (Russian hors d’oeuvres), typically drunk with ice-cold vodka. Among the stand-outs are salades de choux blancs aux baies roses (a coleslaw-like salad with bay leaves), the various herring dishes and aubergine ‘caviar’. Hearty mains include chachlyik (lamb kebab; €19) and koulbiaka (pie filled with fish, rice, veg and boiled eggs; €20.50).

À LA GRANDE BLEUE Map    North African, Berber €€

01 42 28 04 26; 4 rue Lantiez, 17e; starters €4.50-7.50, mains €10-18.50, menu €10.90 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Brochant or Guy Moquet

You’ll find unusual barley couscous (€11.80 to €18.50) prepared in the style of the Berbers (Kabyles) of eastern Algeria, as well as the usual semolina variety (€10 to €17.50), tajines (€13 to €23) and savoury-sweet pastilla au poulet (chicken pastilla; €18.50). The rare crêpes berbères (Berber crepes; €8.50 to €11.50) require a minimum of four people. We love the blue and yellow décor, the art on the walls and warm welcome.

LA TÊTE DE GOINFRE Map    French, Café €€

01 42 29 89 80; 16 rue Jacquemont, 18e; starters €4-7.50, mains €13-17; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; La Fourche

This funny place, whose name translates as ‘Glutton Head’, has a piggy theme, and cute little figurines pepper the joint. As for the joints and other comestibles on the plate, it’s (mostly) pork – from the charcuterie to munch on while you wait for a table to the l’os à moëlle (marrow bone) and confit de porc (pork confit). It’s a lively place, always packed and an evening to experience. Just go with a carnivore.

AU BON COIN Map    French, Café €€

01 58 60 28 72; 52 rue Lemercier, 17e; starters €6-9.50, mains €11-17; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Fri; La Fourche

There’s nothing particularly spectacular about this café up from place de Clichy that moonlights as a restaurant four nights a week. In fact, it’s crowded and rather noisy. But if you are looking for solid café food and a quintessential Parisian eating experience, look no further than ‘At the Right Corner’.

JOY IN FOOD Map    Vegetarian €€

01 43 87 96 79; 2 rue Truffaut, 17e; starters €5, mains €10, menus €13 & €16; lunch Mon-Fri; Place de Clichy

This cosy little place just northwest of the place de Clichy serves homemade vegetarian dishes including omelettes and savoury tarte. The plat du jour might be couscous or vegetarian gratin and the huge desserts (apple crumble, chocolate cake) are legendary.

LA MAFFIOSA DI TERMOLI Map    Italian, Pizzeria €

01 55 30 01 83; 19 rue des Dames, 17e; pizzas & pasta €7.50-9.90; lunch Mon-Sat, dinner to 11pm; Place de Clichy

This place has more than 40 pizzas that are too good to ignore, as well as decent garlic bread with or without Parma ham. It does a thriving takeaway business, too.

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SELF-CATERING

Marché Batignolles-Clichy is excellent for produits biologiques (organic food products).

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OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS

The neon-lit blvd Montmartre and nearby sections of rue du Faubourg Montmartre (neither of which are anywhere near the neighbourhood of Montmartre in the 18e, by the way) form one of the Right Bank’s most animated café and dining districts. This area also has a couple of French restaurants that could almost be declared national monuments. A short distance to the north there’s a large selection of Jewish and North African kosher restaurants along rue Richer, rue Cadet and rue Geoffroy Marie, 9e, south of metro Cadet.


top picks
DINING ROOMS WITH A VIEW
 

JEAN Map    French €€€

01 48 78 62 73; www.restaurantjean.fr; 8 rue St-Lazare, 9e; starters €16-21, mains €36-41, menu €37 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Notre Dame de Lorette

This stylish gourmet restaurant manages to balance just the right amounts of sophistication and genuine warmth. Dark-red banquette seats liven up the large, quiet dining room. A sample meal might include fricassée de langoustines (scampi) served with a julienne of vegetables, magret de canard rôti au miel et ses navets et échalotes confites (honey-roasted fillet of duck breast served with preserved turnips and shallots) and a modern version of profiteroles – a scoop of vanilla ice cream between two crunchy, chocolate-coated meringues. There are multicourse tasting menus available at €60 and €75.

CASA OLYMPE Map    French €€€

01 42 85 26 01; 48 rue St-Georges, 9e; menus €31 (lunch only) & €40; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri; St-Georges

This very smart (if somewhat sombre) restaurant run by Dominique Versini, the first female chef in France to be awarded a Michelin star, serves excellent and rather inventive dishes served in surprisingly ample sizes. We loved our pot of warming winter vegetables with bacon followed by a veal chop cooked with bay leaf and pleurotte mushrooms. The artwork on the walls was done by the chef-owner’s mother.

LA BOULE ROUGE Map    Jewish, Kosher €€€

01 47 70 43 90; 1 rue de la Boule Rouge, 9e; starters €6-17.50, mains €16-28.50; menu €25 & €35; lunch & dinner to midnight Mon-Sat; Cadet or Grands Boulevards

Though this Tunisian stalwart has been in situ for three decades, ‘The Red Ball’ has been getting a lot of press – good, bad or otherwise – only since Monsieur Sarkozy was spotted dining here. It’s a lovely space, with a wonderful caravan mural on the ceiling and photos of politicians and celebs on the walls. Some of the couscous dishes served here – mince with okra, spinach, spicy chicken with corn – are unusual and the three-course menu includes an excellent array of kemia (vegetarian meze) plus a drink.

LES AILES Map    Jewish, Kosher €€€

01 47 70 62 53; www.lesailes.fr, in French; 34 rue Richer, 9e; starters €10-18.50, mains €17-26; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Cadet

With a delicatessen and bakery attached, ‘Wings’ is a kosher North African (Sephardic) place that has superb couscous with meat or fish (€17 to €22) and grills as well as light meals of salad and pasta (€11 to €23). Don’t even consider a starter; you’ll be inundated with little plates of salad, olives etc before you can say shalom. Sabbath meals (pre-ordered and prepaid) are also available.

WALLY LE SAHARIEN Map    North African €€€

01 42 85 51 90; 36 rue Rodier, 9e; starters €6.50-8.50, mains €17.50-23.50, menus €15 & €19 (lunch only), €39; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sat; St-Georges or Cadet

This is several cuts above most Maghreb restaurants in Paris, offering couscous in its pure Saharan form – without stock or vegetables, just a finely cooked grain served with a delicious sauce – and excellent tajines. It’s somewhat pricey for North African but you won’t walk away hungry.

LE ROI DU POT AU FEU Map    French €€

01 47 42 37 10; 34 rue Vignon, 9e; starters €5-7, mains €17-20, menus €24 & €29; noon-10.30pm Mon-Sat; Havre Caumartin

The typical Parisian bistro atmosphere, ‘30s décor and checked tablecloths all add to the charm of ‘The King of Hotpots’, and we always go back when we’re in Paris. What you really want to come here for is a genuine pot-au-feu, a stockpot of beef, aromatic root vegetables and herbs stewed together, with the stock served as an entree and the meat and vegetables as the main course. Other offerings – the chef’s terrine, leeks à la vinaigrette, hachis Parmentier (chopped beef with potatoes), crème caramel, tarte Tatin or chocolate mousse, and the complimentary cornichons at the start – are equally traditional fare but less noteworthy. You drink from an open bottle of wine and pay for what you’ve consumed. No reservations accepted.

AU GÉNÉRAL LA FAYETTE Map    French, Brasserie €€

01 47 70 59 08; 52 rue La Fayette, 9e; starters €5.20-9.50, mains €16-20; 10am-4am daily; Le Peletier

With its all-day menu, archetypal belle époque décor and special beers on offer, this is an excellent stop if you’re hungry outside normal restaurant hours. Stick to the classics, though, like the hearty onion soup (€6.50) and crisp confit de canard (preserved duck leg cooked very slowly in its own fat; €16) with tasty potatoes, and you can’t go wrong. For something lighter go for one of the generous grandes salades (€4.50 to €13.50).

LE Y Map    Greek €€

01 42 68 08 51; 24 rue Godot de Mauroy, 9e; menu €13.50 (lunch only) & €16; lunch Mon-Sat, dinner to midnight Tue-Sat; Havre Caumartin

Don’t expect very much from the Y (pronounced ‘ee grec’ in French) except traditional, family-style Greek cooking and a warm welcome. The lunch menu is available until 8pm. The mezzanine area is a pleasant place to sit and there are occasional art and photographic exhibits here.

NOUVEAU PARIS-DAKAR Map    African, Senegalese €€

01 42 46 12 30; 11 rue de Montyon, 9e; starters €6.90, mains €12.50-16, menus €9.90 (lunch only), €24 & €32; lunch Mon-Thu, Sat & Sun, dinner to 1am daily; Grands Boulevards

This is a little bit of Senegal in Paris, with Mamadou still reigning as the ‘King of Dakar’ despite the new location. Specialities here include yassa (chicken or fish marinated in lime juice and onion sauce; €12.50) and mafé Cap Vert (lamb in peanut sauce; €12.50). There’s live African music most nights.

CHEZ HAYNES Map     American, Southern €€

01 48 78 40 63; 3 rue Clauzel, 9e; starters €7, mains €8-16; dinner to midnight Tue-Sat; St-Georges

A legendary, funky hang-out set up by an African American ex-GI in 1947, Haynes dishes up such soul food as shrimp gumbo, fried chicken, barbecued ribs and cornbread. There’s usually a crowd for the blues, dance and performance art sessions on Fridays and Saturdays from 8.30pm or 9pm (€5) and jamming from 11pm to midnight.

CHARTIER Map    French, Bistro €€

01 47 70 86 29; www.restaurant-chartier.com; 7 rue du Faubourg Montmartre, 9e; starters €2.20-12.40, mains €6.50-16, menu with wine €20; lunch & dinner to 10pm daily; Grands Boulevards

Chartier, which started life as a bouillon, or soup kitchen, in 1896, is a real gem that is justifiably famous for its 330-seat belle époque dining room. With a 50cL pitchet (pitcher) of wine for €3.60, you should spend no more than €15/20 for two/three courses per person. The menu changes (well, alters) daily, but don’t expect gourmet. Reservations are not accepted so count on joining a queue at busy times. Single diners will have to share a table.

KASTOORI Map    Indian, Pakistani €€

01 44 53 06 10; 4 place Gustave Toudouze, 9e; starters €3-6, mains €9-12; menus €8 (lunch only), €10 & €15; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm; St-Georges

This eatery just a stone’s throw from place Pigalle is a delight in summer, with its large terrace looking onto a quiet, leafy square. The excellent value set menus include three generous courses; if you just want one dish go for the excellent vegetable biryani.


top picks
BUDGET FRENCH
 

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SELF-CATERING

Conveniently located is the Franprix Rodier (Map; 52 rue Rodier, 9e; 9am-9pm Mon-Sat; St-Georges or Cadet), south of square d’Anvers. Both av de l’Opéra and rue de Richelieu have several supermarkets, including a large one in Monoprix (Map; 21 av de l’Opéra, 2e; 9am-10pm Mon-Fri, to 9pm Sat; Pyramides).

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GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE

These areas offer all types of food but most notably Indian and Pakistani, which can be elusive in Paris. There’s a cluster of brasseries and bistros around the Gare du Nord. They’re decent options for a first (or final) meal in the City of Light.

JULIEN Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 47 70 12 06; www.julienparis.com; 16 rue du Faubourg St-Denis, 10e; starters €6.90-17, mains €16.70-39, menus €21.50 & €28.50 (lunch only), €21.90-31.50; lunch & dinner to 1am daily; Strasbourg St-Denis

Located in the less-than-salubrious neighbourhood of St-Denis, Julien offers food that you wouldn’t cross town for. But – mon Dieu! – the décor and the atmosphere: it’s an Art Nouveau extravaganza perpetually in motion and a real step back in time. Service is always excellent here, and you’ll feel welcome at any time of day.

TERMINUS NORD Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 42 85 05 15; www.terminusnord.com; 23 rue de Dunkerque, 10e; starters €7.80-19, mains €14.50-38.50, menus €24.50 & €31.50; 8am-1am daily; Gare du Nord

‘The North Terminus’ is a brasserie with a copper bar, waiters in white uniforms, brass fixtures and mirrored walls that look as they did when it opened in 1925. Breakfast (from €8) is available from 8am to 11am, and full meals are served continuously from 11am to 1am. It’s a museum-quality time piece and an excellent place for a final meal before returning to London.

LA PAELLA Map    Spanish €€€

01 46 07 28 89; www.restaurantlapaella.com, in French; 50 rue des Vinaigriers, 11e; starters €6.10-12, mains €15-28, menus €12.50 (lunch only) & €27; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Jacques Bonsergent

This homely place, which almost feels like a buzzy café (especially on weekend nights), specialises in Spain’s most famous culinary export – though it does a mean zarzuela de pescado (Spanish ‘bouillabaisse’; €25) as well. The paella is cooked to order so count on at least a 30-minute wait and don’t overdo the tapas.

CHEZ PAPA Map    French, Southwest €€€

01 42 09 53 87; www.chezpapa.fr, in French; 206 rue La Fayette, 10e; starters & salads €8.20-14.10, mains €14.10-27.20, menus €15.35 & €19.95; 11am-1am daily; Louis Blanc

Chez Papa serves all sorts of specialities of the southwest, including cassoulet (€17.80), pipérade (€15.35) and garbure (€18.55), but most diners are here for the famous salade Boyarde, an enormous bowl filled with lettuce, tomato, sautéed potatoes, two types of cheese and ham – all for the princely sum of €8.20 (or €9.10 if you want two fried eggs thrown in). There’s a Grands Boulevards branch (Map; 01 40 13 07 31; 153 rue Montmartre, 2e; Grands Boulevards) and a 8e branch (Map) 01 42 65 43 68; rue de l’Arcade, 8e; Havre Caumartin), which open noon to midnight Sunday to Thursday and till 1am at the weekend.

DA MIMMO Map    Italian €€€

01 42 06 44 47; 39 blvd de Magenta, 10e; starters €7-22, mains €19-26; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Jacques Bonsergent

Neither the less-than-salubrious neighbourhood nor the relatively high prices are enough to keep fans away from this delightful trattoria with its authentic Neapolitan cuisine. Naples is, of course, the birthplace of pizza (€11.50 to €20); try one with rocket and forget about pizzas of the past.

AUX DEUX CANARDS Map    French €€€

01 47 70 03 23; www.lesdeuxcanards.com, in French; 8 rue du Faubourg Poissonnière, 10e; starters €5-14.50, mains €16-25, menu €20 (lunch only); lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 10.15pm Mon-Sat; Bonne Nouvelle

The tradition at this long-established inn-like place is that you ring first (is this a speakeasy or what?) before you are allowed entry. The name of the restaurant – ‘At the Two Ducks’ – reflects much of the menu (there’s everything from foie gras to à l’orange), but you’ll find starters as diverse as mussels with leek and a salad of Jerusalem artichoke and sheep’s cheese. The host is a true, err, ham and performs to an appreciative, mostly English-speaking audience.

HÔTEL DU NORD Map    French €€

01 40 40 78 78; www.hoteldunord.org; 102 quai de Jenmapes, 10e; starters €7-14.50, mains €15-22; menu €13.50 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight; Jacques Bonsergent

The setting for the eponymous 1938 film starring Louis Jouvet and Arletty, the dining room and bar at this vintage venue by the Canal St-Martin feel as if they were stuck in a time warp with their Art Deco posters, zinc counter and old piano. The food is correct if not mind-blowing; stick with basics like the jumbo hamburger (€16) and its trimmings and you’ll be fine. The plat du jour is usually €10.

LE SPORTING Map    International €€

01 46 07 02 00; www.lesporting.com; 3 rue des Récollets, 10e; starters €7-14, mains €14-20, menus €9.90 & €14 (lunch only) €24 & €32; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Gare de l’Est

This is one of the more sophisticated café-restaurants along the Canal St-Martin and the minimalist décor – all browns and ash greys and bare wooden floors – suggests an up-to-the-moment bar or club in London. Brunch on Sunday (noon to 4pm) is when Le Sporting is at its busiest.

LA MARINE Map    French €€

01 42 39 69 81; 55bis quai de Valmy, 10e; starters €7-20, mains €14-17.50, menu weekday/weekend lunch €13/16; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; République

This large, airy bistro overlooking Canal St-Martin is a favourite, especially in the warmer months, among les branchés du quartier (neighbourhood trendies), who nibble on dishes like millefeuille de rouget à la vinaigrette (mullet in layered pastry with vinaigrette) and brick de poisson à la crème océane (fish fritter with seafood sauce).

LE CHANSONNIER Map    French €€

01 42 09 40 58; www.lechansonnier.com, in French; 14 rue Eugène Varlin, 10e; starters €8.20, mains €17, menus €11.50 (lunch only) & €24; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Château Landon or Louis Blanc

Now under new management, ‘The Singer’ (named after the 19th-century Lyonnais socialist singer-songwriter Pierre Dupont) doesn’t quite offer the same value for money that it once did but it could still be a film set, with its curved zinc bar and Art Nouveau mouldings. The food remains very substantial; try the noix St-Jacques provençal (scallops in herbed tomato sauce), bouillabaisse or daube de sanglier (boar stew) as a main course.

LE COIN DE VERRE Map    French €€

01 42 45 31 82; 38 rue de Sambre et Meuse, 10e; dishes €10-15; dinner to midnight Mon-Sat; Belleville or Colonel Fabien

This bistro, where you must ring to gain entry, is full of retro character with its dark yellow walls, old posters and fireplace. The speciality here is charcuterie, cheese and, of course, wine; try the generous assiette de cochonnailles (pork platter; €10.50) and, if you can manage it, the clafoutis maison (€4), which is fruit covered with a thick batter and baked until puffy.

ISTANBUL Map    Turkish €€

01 48 00 98 10; 66 rue du Faubourg St-Denis, 10e; starters €4-8.50, mains €11-15; lunch & dinner to 11pm Sun-Thu, to 11.30 Fri & Sat; Château d’Eau

Our new favourite Turkish restaurant in the heart of Turkey Town serves all our favourites – Iskender kebab (lamb slices served with pide bread and yogurt), imam bayildi (‘the imam fainted’; an eggplant dish) – and the combination meze platter (€8.50) is a meal in itself. What friendly and generous staff: the baklava, fruit slices and mint tea kept coming after we had settled the bill!

LE RÉVEIL DU XE Map    French €€

01 42 41 77 59; 35 rue du Château d’Eau, 10e; starters €4.20-9.80, mains €9.90-15; lunch Mon-Sat, dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri; Chateau d’Eau

‘The Awakening of the 10th Arrondissement’, taking its name from a left-wing newspaper of the late 19th century, is an authentic and historic wine bistro, where hearty and flavoursome family cooking is served in a friendly atmosphere. Try the Périgord-style chicken with truffles or the pied de cochon farci (stuffed pig’s trotter).

PASSAGE BRADY Map    Indian, Pakistani €€

46 rue du Faubourg St-Denis & 33 blvd de Strasbourg, 10e; mains €5-14.50; lunch & dinner to 11pm; Château d’Eau

Joining rue du Faubourg St-Denis and blvd de Strasbourg in the 10e, this old-style covered arcade could easily be in Calcutta. Its incredibly cheap Indian, Pakistani and Bangladeshi cafés offer among the best-value lunches in Paris (meat curry, rice and a tiny salad €5 to €9.50, chicken or lamb biryani €10.50 to €14.50, thalis €7 to €9.50). Dinner menus are from €12.50 to €24 but it must be said that most of the eateries here offer subcontinental food à la française, There are lots of places to choose from, but the pick of the crop are Palais des Rajpout ( 01 42 46 23 75; 64-66 passage Brady), Passage de Pondicherry ( 01 53 34 63 10; 84 passage Brady) and Pooja ( 01 48 24 00 83; 91 passage Brady).

LE CHALAND Map    French, Café €€

01 40 05 18 68; 163 quai de Valmy, 10e; starters €7, mains €13-14, menu lunch €11.50; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Fri, to 2am Sat & Sun; Louis Blanc

‘The Barge’ is a pleasant café du quartier serving rock-solid favourites like blanquette de veau and tartes salées (savoury pies) with the occasional leap into the 21st century with gigantic salads. It’s one of the more approachable (and affordable) eateries on the canal and you’re offered a kir (white wine with cassis) as an apéritif. The plat du jour is €9.50

LE VERRE VOLÉ Map    French €€

01 48 03 17 34; 67 rue de Lancry, 10e; starters €5-8.60, mains €11-11.50; lunch & dinner to 11pm; Jacques Bonsergent

The tiny ‘Stolen Glass’ – a wine shop with a few tables – is just about the most perfect wine-bar-cum-restaurant in Paris, with excellent wines from southeastern France (€18 to €54 a bottle) and expert advice. Unpretentious and hearty plats du jour are excellent.

MADRAS CAFÉ Map    Indian €€

01 42 05 29 56; 180 rue du Faubourg St-Denis, 10e; starters €2.50-13.50, mains €6-11, menus €6.50 (lunch only), €9.50 & €15; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm; Gare du Nord

You wouldn’t cross town to eat at this simple restaurant with specialities from both northern and southern India – the one-dish thalis (€7) are good – but if you’ve just arrived at or are just about to leave from the Gare du Nord and need a curry fix, this café is right around the corner.

LE CAMBODGE Map    Cambodian €

01 44 84 37 70; www.lecambodge.fr, in French; 10 av Richerand, 10e; dishes €5-10; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat; Goncourt

Hidden in a quiet street between the gargantuan Hôpital St-Louis and Canal St-Martin, this favourite spot among students serves enormous rouleaux de printemps (spring rolls; €5) and the ever-popular pique-nique Angkorien (‘Angkor picnic’ of rice vermicelli and sautéed beef, which you wrap up in lettuce leaves; €10). The food tastes homemade (if not especially authentic) and the vegetarian platters (€7 to €8.50) are especially good.

KRISHNA BHAVAN Map    Indian, Vegetarian €

01 42 05 78 43; 2 rue Cail, 10e; dishes €1.50-7.50, menu €10.50; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; La Chapelle

This is about as authentic an Indian vegetarian canteen as you’ll find in an area that is rapidly overtaking Faubourg St-Denis as Paris’ Little India. If in doubt as to what to order, ask for a thali (€7.50), a circular steel tray with samosas, dosas and other wrapped goodies. And wash it all down with a yoghurt-based lassi, which comes in five flavours, including mango and rose.

LE MAURICIEN FILAO Map    Mauritian, Creole €

01 48 24 17 17; 9 passage du Prado, 10e; dishes €6-6.50; lunch & dinner to 10pm Mon-Sat; Strasbourg St-Denis

This hole-in-the-wall canteen in passage du Prado, a derelict covered arcade accessible from 12 rue du Faubourg St-Denis and 18–20 blvd St-Denis, serves cheap but tasty Mauritian dishes such as spicy rougaille de poisson (a Creole dish of fish cooked with onions, garlic, ginger, chilli and coriander) and cari poissons aux lentilles (curried fish with lentils). Only certain dishes from the main menu are available daily, though.

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SELF-CATERING

Two covered markets in this area are the Marché aux Enfants Rouges and the more extravagant Marché St-Quentin. For details, Click here.

Rue du Faubourg St-Denis, 10e, which links blvd St-Denis and blvd de Magenta, is one of the cheapest places to buy food, especially fruit and vegetables; the shops at Nos 23, 27–29 and 41–43 are laden with produce. The street has a distinctively Middle Eastern air, and quite a few of the groceries offer Turkish, North African and subcontinental specialities. Many of the food shops, including the fromagerie at No 54, are open Tuesday to Saturday and until noon on Sunday.

Supermarkets convenient to this area include Franprix St-Denis branch (Map; 7-9 rue des Petites Écuries,10e; 9am-8.20pm Mon-Sat; Château d’Eau) and Franprix Magenta branch (Map; 57 blvd de Magenta, 10e; 9am-8pm Mon-Sat; Gare de l’Est).

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MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE

In the northern part of the 11e and into the 19e and 20e arrondissements, rue Oberkampf and its extension, rue de Ménilmontant, are popular with diners and denizens of the night, though rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, running parallel to the north, has been stolen some of their glory in the past decade or so. Rue de Belleville and the streets running off it are dotted with Chinese, Southeast Asian and a few Middle Eastern places; blvd de Belleville has some kosher couscous restaurants, most of which are closed on Saturday.

LAO SIAM Map    Thai €€

01 40 40 09 68; 49 rue de Belleville, 19e; starters €7-10.30, mains €7.50-22; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm; Belleville

This Thai-Chinese place, with neon lights and spartan décor, looks like any other Asian restaurant in Belleville. Though we’ve heard some complaints about its authenticity, Lao Siam must be doing something right because it’s always packed. There are more than 120 dishes on the menu – from the classic beef and duck with coconut milk and bamboo to the more unusual tourteau à la diable (spicy devilled crab).

EL PALADAR Map    Cuban €€

01 43 57 42 70; 26bis rue de la Fontaine au Roi, 11e; starters €4-6, mains €14-21, menus €12 & €14 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight; Goncourt

While the name of this place suggests the restaurants run from private homes in today’s cash-strapped Havana, the food and sheer exuberance recalls the Cuba of the 1950s, when everything was plentiful. It’s a convivial, graffiti-covered place with super caipirinhas (€6) – cocktails made from a sugarcane-based alcohol, lime juice and sugarcane syrup – and such authentic dishes as pescado guisado (fried fish), pollo piopio (chicken cooked with citrus) and yuca con mojo (manioc with onions and garlic).

LE KRUNG THEP Map    Thai €€€

01 43 66 83 74; 93 rue Julien Lacroix, 20e; starters €8-12, mains €8-20; lunch Sat & Sun, dinner to 11pm; Pyrénées

Krung Thep, which means ‘Bangkok’ in Thai, is a small – some might say cramped – and kitsch place with all our favourite dishes (and then some – there are dozens and dozens of dishes on the menu): green curries, tom kha goong (spicy soup with prawns; €20) and fish steamed in banana leaves (€18). The steamed shrimp ravioli and curried crab will hit the spot. There is also a generous number of vegetarian dishes (€8 to €10).

NEW NIOULLAVILLE Map    Chinese €€

01 40 21 96 18; www.nioullaville.fr, in French; 32 rue de l’Orillon, 11e; starters €4.90-7.50, mains €9.80-19.50, menus €7-14; lunch & dinner to 1am daily; Belleville or Goncourt

This cavernous, 400-seat place tries to please all of the people all of the time. As a result the food is a bit of a mishmash – dim sum sits next to beef satay, as do scallops with black bean alongside Singapore noodles, though whether they do so comfortably is another matter. Order carefully and you should get some authenticity. Rice and noodle dishes are between €6.10 and €9.90.


top picks
VEGETARIAN RESTAURANTS
 

LE BARATIN Map    French, Bistro €€

01 43 49 39 70; 3 rue Jouye-Rouve, 20e; starters €8-10, mains €15-18, menu €14 (lunch only); lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to midnight Tue-Sat; Pyrénées or Belleville

Baratin (chatter) rhymes with bar à vin (wine bar) in French and this animated place just a step away from the lively Belleville quarter does both awfully well. In addition it offers some of the best (and very affordable) French food in the 20e on its ever-changing blackboard. The wine selection (by the glass or carafe) is excellent; most are between €21 and €30 a bottle.

REUAN THAI Map    Thai €€

01 43 55 15 82; 36 rue de l’Orillon, 11e; starters €5-13, mains €8-18, menu €8 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 10.30pm daily; Belleville

This fragrant place offers some of the most authentic Thai food in Paris and has all your favourite Thai dishes, including soups. About a half-dozen of the choices are vegetarian. Décor is on the kitsch side, but we weren’t here for the figurines and the bolsters piled up almost to the ceiling.

BISTRO FLORENTIN Map    Italian €€

01 43 55 57 00; 40 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; starters €8.50-15, mains €14-17, menu €13 (lunch only); lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Parmentier

Expect excellent Italian fare amidst cosy surroundings: grilled, finely seasoned aubergine for starters, tiramisu as light as a feather for dessert and, between those two courses, a wide choice of mains and pastas (€12 to €17). The penne à la crème d’artichauts (penne with cream and artichokes; €13) is superb as is the ravioli à la ricotta et aux épinards, sauce aux champignons (spinach and cheese ravioli with a mushroom sauce). Pizzas are €8 to €13.

ASIANWOK Map    Asian €€

01 43 57 63 24; 63 rue Oberkampf, 11e; dishes €13.80-15.20, menu €18.50; lunch & dinner to 10pm Mon-Sat; Parmentier

We can’t get enough of the wonderful stir-fries, big salads and ample platters served at this pan-Asian eatery that has opened recently in an vintage bar-café along trendy rue Oberkampf. The welcome from the young Asian staff is always warm and the two-course formule (available any time) a snip at €18.50.

L’AVE MARIA Map    Fusion €€

01 47 00 61 73; 1 rue Jacquard, 11e; dishes €12-15; dinner to midnight daily; Parmentier

This chic and colourful canteen combines the flavours of the southern hemisphere and creates hearty, hybrid and harmonious dishes. You might be treated to West African mafé de poulet fermier (farm chicken simmered in peanut sauce) or the Amazonian fish and chips, which is of no mean size. Tropical fruit, unknown wild grasses, and heavenly vegetation provide a lush garnish and an extra touch of exoticism. The music livens up towards midnight and on to 1 or 2am.

LE POROKHANE Map    African, Senegalese €€

01 40 21 86 74; www.leporokhane.com, in French; 3 rue Moret, 11e; menu €15; dinner to 2am daily; Ménilmontant or Parmentier

A large dining room in hues of ochre and terracotta, this cheapie is a popular meeting place for Senegalese artists. The clientele has un peu tendance show-biz, we’re told – and live kora (a traditional string instrument) music is not unusual at the weekend. Try the tiéboudienne, yassa or mafé.

TAI YIEN Map    Chinese €€

01 42 41 44 16; 5 rue de Belleville, 19e; starters €3.90-6.40, mains €7.90-11.40; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Belleville

This is usually where we eat when we are looking for a fix of rice or noodles, especially late in the evening. It’s a Hong Kong–style ‘steam restaurant’ and the real McCoy: it’s hard to imagine better char siu (barbecued pork) in this part of Paris.

DONG HUONG Map    Vietnamese €

01 43 38 29 42; 14 rue Louis Bonnet; dishes €5.50-9.50; lunch & dinner to 10pm Wed-Mon; Belleville

Despite a name that sounds like a Spanish Lothario, this no-frills Vietnamese noodle- shop-cum-restaurant serves up great bowls of pho to rooms full of appreciative regulars. The fact that the regulars are all Asian (and mainly Vietnamese) and the food comes out so fast is a testament to its authenticity and freshness.

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SELF-CATERING

Supermarkets close to these two areas include Franprix Jean-Pierre Timbaud branch (Map; 23 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; 8.30am-9pm Mon-Sat, 9am-1.30pm Sun; Oberkampf) and Franprix Jules Ferry branch (Map; 28 blvd Jules Ferry, 11e; 8.30am-9pm Tue-Sun; République or Goncourt). Marché Belleville is one of the most exotic markets in Paris.

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GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY

The waterfront southwest of Gare de Lyon has got a new lease on life in recent years. The development of the old wine warehouses in Bercy Village attract winers and diners till the wee hours. There are loads of decent restaurants on the roads fanning out from huge place de la Nation.

L’OULETTE Map    French, Southwest €€€

01 40 02 02 12; www.l-oulette.com; 15 place Lachambeaudie, 12e; starters €16-30, mains €26-39, menus €45, with wine €51; lunch & dinner to 10.15pm Mon-Fri; Cour St-Émilion

A distant relative of the Bistrot de l’Oulette near Bastille, this is a lovely (and pricey) restaurant with a terrace overlooking a pretty church in a rather dreary neighbourhood. Owner-chef Marcel Baudis’ menu du saison (seasonal menu) might include soupe de poisson à la crème de coquillages au safran (fish soup with saffron cream) and la chartreuse de queue de bœuf braisée aux poivrons (ox tail braised with leeks).

LA GAZZETTA Map    French €€€

01 43 47 47 05; www.lagazzetta.fr; 29 rue de Cotte, 12e; starters €10-17, mains €20-26, menus €14 (lunch only) €34 & €45; lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Ledru Rollin

A distant relative of the now defunct (and much missed China Club) this contemporary French bistro is as comfortable producing dishes like scallops with cress and milk-fed lamb confit as it is mini anchovy pizzas. The lunchtime menu is excellent value and the welcome especially warm.

LE SQUARE TROUSSEAU Map    French €€€

01 43 43 06 00; 1 rue Antoine Vollon, 12e; starters €7-12, mains €19-26, menus €21 & €25 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Ledru Rollin

This vintage (c 1900) bistro with etched glass, zinc bar and polished wood panelling is comfortable rather than trendy and attracts a jolly, mixed clientele. Most people come to enjoy the lovely terrace overlooking a small park. Next door is the less-formal La Cave du Square (menus €12-20; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat), where you can have two- or three-course meals or even pick up that bottle of Touraine you enjoyed so much over lunch next door.

LES AMIS DE MESSINA Map    Italian, Sicilian €€€

01 43 67 96 01; 204 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 12e; starters €8.50-13.90, mains €17.50-24.90; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

The décor of this wonderful little neighbourhood trattoria is stylish, with clean lines, an open kitchen and the inevitable Italian football pennant. For starters, try the tortino di melanzane (eggplant casserole) or share a mixed antipasto (€19.80). For mains, the escalope farcie aux oignons, jambon et fromage (veal escalope stuffed with onions, ham and cheese) is a huge hit, or go for any of the exquisite Sicilian pastas (€13.50 to €16.50).

L’ÉBAUCHOIR Map    French €€

01 43 42 49 31; 43-45 rue de Cîteaux, 12e; starters €8-15, mains €17-23; menus €11.50 & €13.50 (lunch only) & €24; lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Faidherbe Chaligny

This convivial, one-time workers’ eatery attracts a loyal clientele who mix with an ‘outside’ crowd who have discovered it (and clearly forced up the prices). The usual menu of bistro food is well prepared and dishes such as marinated herrings, crème de lentilles au Beaufort (creamed lentils with Beaufort cheese) and foie de veau au miel (veal liver with honey sauce) keep customers coming back.

SARDEGNA A TAVOLA Map    Italian, Sardinian €€

01 44 75 03 28; 1 rue de Cotte, 12e; starters & pasta €10-26, mains €16-22; lunch Tue-Sat, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Ledru Rollin

‘Sardinia at the Table’ claims it will introduce you to ‘les saveurs, les couleurs et les odeurs de la Méditerranée’ (the flavours, colours and fragrances of the Mediterranean) and you barely have to walk though the door for the last two. But stick around for the flavours and you won’t be disappointed. Try the poêlon (pot) of mixed seafood cooked with parsley, tomatoes and garlic and the distinctly Sardinian spaghetti with bottarga (cured mullet roe) cooked with oil, garlic, parsley and red pepper flakes.

ATHANOR Map    Romanian €€

01 43 43 49 15; 4 rue Crozatier, 12e; starters €8-12, mains €15-21, menu €23; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Reuilly Diderot

It’s not easy to get a fix of Romanian cuisine in Paris, but Athanor can provide. The décor (puppets, red curtains, old carpets) is theatrical in the extreme; grab a vodka and tune in to the baroque music. Try the grilled blinis with tarama (fish-roe dip) and herrings in cream. Seasoned soup of freshwater river fish (€12) is the speciality of the house, though you mustn’t miss the sarmale (stuffed cabbage or grape leaves), the national dish.

LE VIADUC CAFÉ Map    International, Café €€€

01 44 74 70 70; 43 av Daumesnil, 12e; starters €7.50-16, mains €14-20, menu €15.50 (lunch only) & €20.50; 9am-2am; Gare de Lyon

This New York–style café-bar with a terrace in one of the glassed-in arches of the Viaduc des Arts is an excellent spot to while away the early hours and enjoy brunch (€26), with live jazz from noon to 4pm on Sundays from mid-June to mid-September. Plats du jours are excellent value at €12/15 by day/night.

LE VINÉA CAFÉ Map    French, Café €€

01 44 74 09 09; 26-28 cour St-Émilion, 12e; starters €4.50-14.50, mains €10.90-20, menus €14.50 & €18 (lunch only); 9am-2am Sun-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Cour St-Émilion

The anchor tenant – or so it would seem – of the cour St-Émilion, this is a delightful wine bar-restaurant with a lovely terrace to the back facing place des Vins de France. There’s live music some nights and a popular brunch (€23) from noon to 4pm on Sunday.

L’ENCRIER Map    French, Bistro €€

01 44 68 08 16; www.enoteca.fr, in French; 55 rue Traversière, 12e; starters €5.50-11, mains €10-19, menus €14 (lunch only) & €19-33; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Ledru Rollin or Gare de Lyon

Always heaving but especially at lunch, ‘The Inkwell’ attracts punters with its classic salmon assiette de foie gras and less-common dishes like cervelle des canuts (a herbed cheese from Lyons). To follow, try the bar entier grillé (whole grilled bass) or delicate joues de cochon aux épices (pig’s cheeks with spices). A variety of set menus, an open kitchen, exposed beams and a large picture window make this a winner.

SWANN ET VINCENT Map    Italian €€

01 43 43 49 40; 7 rue St-Nicolas, 12e; starters €6.50-12, mains €13-18, menu €15.90 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11.45pm; Ledru Rollin

If you’re visiting this fine restaurant, ask for a table in the front room, which will hopefully be awash with sunlight. Unpretentious French staff can help you select from the huge blackboard, where at least two of the starters, pastas and main dishes change every day. Go slow on the complimentary basket of olive-and-sweet-herb bread, though; you need to leave room for the tiramisu (€6.50). And, if you must know, Swann and Vincent, whose larger-than-life portraits face you through the front window opposite at No 14, are the children of the owner.

KHUN AKORN Map    Thai €€

01 43 56 20 03; 8 av de Taillebourg, 11e; starters €10-14, mains €15-17; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; Nation

This Thai eatery near place de la Nation is an oasis of sophistication and good taste – in every sense. Among the traditional dishes, the tom yum, and the beef and chicken satays with scrumptious peanut sauce are outstanding. More innovative offerings include fruits de mer grillés sauce barbecue maison (grilled seafood with barbecue sauce) and the larmes du tigre (‘tears of the tiger’; grilled fillet of beef marinated in honey and herbs). In fine weather, try the terrace upstairs.

COMME COCHONS Map    French €€

01 43 42 43 36; 135 rue de Charenton, 12e; starters €7-14, mains €14-17, menus €12 & €15 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to 11pm; Gare de Lyon

You may not be attracted by the name but the excellent traditional dishes and the sunny terrace at ‘Like Pigs’ will undoubtedly change your mind. This bistro is like a page out of the past – only the contemporary paintings on the wall by local artists will keep you in the present. Among the specialities are potted pleurotte mushrooms with foie gras and l’os a moëlle fleur de sel (marrow bone with sea salt). There’s live jazz on Thursday evening.

AGUA LIMÓN Map    Spanish €€

01 43 44 92 24; 12 rue Théophile Roussel, 12e; tapas €5.50-15; menus €13 (lunch only); lunch & dinner Tue-Sat; Ledru Rollin

Considered by some to have the best tapas in Paris, ‘Lemon Water’ is an attractive bar-restaurant within easy walking distance of Bastille. Go for the boquerones (whitebait) in vinegar, the octopus Catalan-style and the excellent patatas bravas. There’s decent selection of Spanish wines, including Riojas.

LA PARTIE DE CAMPAGNE Map    French €€

01 43 40 44 11; 36 cour St-Émilion, 12e; dishes €10.90-13.50; 8am-2am daily; Cour St-Émilion

Located in one of the old chais (wine warehouses) of Bercy, ‘The Country Outing’ serves some of the best food in the area. Business people and strollers from the Jardin de Bercy sit cheek by jowl at a large communal table set up at the back of the room, and order from a menu that includes soups, tartines and pies. It’s also a great place for breakfast, and the inviting terrace is open in the warmer months.

LINA’S Map    Sandwich Bar €

01 43 40 42 42; www.linascafe.fr; 102 rue de Bercy, 12e; soups & salads €4.50-6.10, sandwiches €3.90-6.90 8.30am-4.30pm Mon-Sat; Bercy)

This branch of a popular chain of lunch spots across Paris (some 17 outlets so far) has upmarket sandwiches, salads and soups. Other outlets include an Opéra branch (Map; 01 42 46 02 06; 30 blvd des Italiens, 9e; Richelieu Drouot) and La Défense (Map; 01 46 92 28 47; parvis de la Défense; La Défense).

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SELF-CATERING

West of Parc de Bercy there’s a Franprix (Map; 3 rue Baron le Roy, 12e; 8.30am-8.30pm Tue-Sun; Cour St-Émilion) that’s open on Sundays.

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13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN

With the Simone de Beauvoir footbridge Click here making Bercy footsteps away from the 13e, foodies are hot-footing it to Paris’ Chinatown in search of authentic Asian food: Av de Choisy, av d’Ivry and rue Baudricourt are the streets to try.

North around the Bibliothèque Nationale de France and MK2 entertainment complex Click here, stretching north along av Pierre Mendès to Gare d’Austerlitz, is the land of opportunity where a new cutting-edge dining or drinking venue seems to open every day. Westwards is Butte aux Cailles, a gritty, real-life ‘village’ within Paris, likewise chock-a-block with interesting, fun-guaranteed addresses.

To penetrate the absolute heart of this unexpectedly varied neighbourhood, consider an alternative evening of culinary and artistic entertainment at L’Atoll 13 (Map; www.atoll13.org, in French; 175ter rue Tolbiac, 13e; Bibliothèque François Mitterand), an artists’ squat symbolic host to concerts, bands, happenings and – each Tuesday evening – an atmospheric repas de quartier.

CHEZ JACKY Map    French €€€

01 45 83 71 55; www.chezjacky.fr, in French; 109 rue du Dessous des Berges, 13e; starters & mains €20-29, menu €35, with wine €45; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; Bibliothèque

In the shadow of the national library, Chez Jacky is a serious, traditional restaurant with thoughtful service and a nice, old-fashioned provincial atmosphere. The brothers in charge know how to find good regional produce and present it with great panache, even if originality isn’t their cardinal virtue.

CHEZ NATHALIE Map    French, Contemporary €€

01 45 80 20 42; 41 rue Vandrezanne, 13e; starters €10-15, mains €15-24; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Corvisart or Place d’Italie

Refreshingly different with summertime tables on car-quiet rue Vandrezanne, this pocket-sized dining spot is a lovely spot to dine tête à tête. A transparent Kartell chair and potted bamboos stand outside, and inside black lacquered tables ooze modernity. On the menu, traditional French fuses with world food in the guise of a pressed artichoke heart with foie gras, wild boar with celery puree, squid pan-fried with chilli and so on.

CHEZ PAUL Map    French €€

01 45 89 22 11; 22 rue de la Butte aux Cailles, 13e; starters €9.50-12, mains €16-21; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Corvisart or Place d’Italie

Paul’s pad is a classic in Butte aux Cailles. Soak up the relaxed, chatty feel and indulge in Frencher-than-French dishes cooked to perfection. Despite its name gras double (double fat) is not fatty; rather, it’s belly pan-fried with garlic and parsley, as the friendly note on the menu thoughtfully explains.

LE TEMPS DES CÉRISES Map    French €€

01 45 89 69 48; 18-20 rue de la Butte aux Cailles, 13e; starters €8-10, mains €10-21, menus lunch/dinner €14.50/22.50; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Fri, to midnight Sat; Corvisart or Place d’Italie

There’s no beating about the bush at ‘The Time of Cherries’ (ie ‘days of wine and roses’ to English speakers), an easygoing restaurant run by a workers’ cooperative for three decades. Switch off your mobile (lest there be hell to pay) before entering, plonk yourself down at a table and while away several hours munching on faithfully solid fare in a quintessentially Parisian atmosphere. Buy their coton-bio T-shirt upon departure.

RESTAURANT BIOART Map    Organic €€

01 45 85 66 88; www.restaurantbioart.fr; 1 quai François Mauriac, 13e; starters €8, mains €18; lunch Mon, lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Fri, dinner to 11.30pm Sat; Bibliothèque

Split across two floors, this Seine-side eating space with neon lighting and glass windows is 100% bio. Less formal snacks, salads (€10) and bowls of pasta ‘ n’ risotto (€10) make up the ground-floor café menu, while the risotto au cognac à la crème is typical of the more formal fare served upstairs. Savouring ‘un plaisir naturel’ (a natural pleasure) is the hip but laidback mood here.

L’AVANT GOûT Map    French, Bistro €€

01 53 80 24 00; www.lavantgout.com, in French; 26 rue Bobillot, 13e; starters €10, mains €16.50, menus lunch/dinner €14/31; lunch & dinner to 10.45pm Tue-Sat; Place d’Italie

A prototype of the Parisian ‘neo-bistro’, the ‘Foretaste’ has chef Christophe Beaufront serving some of the most inventive modern cuisine around. The place gets noisy, tables count little more than a dozen, and service is stern. But the food is different and divine. Advance reservations are vital but, should you not get in, its wine shop, Côte Cellier ( 01 45 81 14 06; 37 rue Bobillot, 13e; noon-8pm Tue-Fri, 10.30am-12.30pm & 3.30-8.30pm Sat), opposite, sells dishes to take away.

À LA DOUCEUR ANGEVINE Map    French €€

01 45 83 32 30; 1 rue Xaintrailles, 13e; starters €8-10, mains €10-15; 8.30am-4.30pm Mon-Wed, 8.30am-4.30pm & 7.45-10.30pm Thu & Fri; Bibliothèque

A typical bistro de quartier, À la Douceur Angevine is the place in the 13e to jostle with locals. Its name, penned in a poem by 16th-century French poet Joachim du Bellay, celebrates the sweetness of gastronomy and viticulture from Anjou, land of kings, chateaux and Rabelais, west of Paris in the Loire Valley. In spring, when a dozen lucky diners can dine on the terrace outside, it bumps up its opening hours to three evenings a week. It closes for three weeks in August.

LA FLEUVE DE CHINE Map    Chinese €€

01 45 82 06 88; 15 av de Choisy, 13e; starters €3.50-10, mains €7-15; lunch & dinner to 11pm Fri-Wed; Porte de Choisy

Here you’ll find the most authentic Cantonese and Hakka food in Paris and, as is typical, both the surroundings and the service are forgettable. Go for the superb dishes cooked in clay pots. La Fleuve de Chine can also be reached through the Tour Bergame housing estate at 130 blvd Masséna.

LA CHINE MASSÉNA Map    Chinese €€

01 45 83 98 88; 18 av de Choisy, 13e; soups & starters €4.10-11, mains €6.50-14; lunch & dinner to 11pm daily; Porte de Choisy

This enormous restaurant specialising in Cantonese and Chiu Chow cuisine is a real favourite in Chinatown; to ensure it would have good joss for the coming year we fed the dragon lettuce at the last Lunar New Year celebrations. The dim sum here is especially good and women still go around the dining area with trolleys calling out their wares.

L’AUDIERNES Map    French, Brasserie €€

01 44 24 86 23; 22 rue Louise Weiss, 13e; starters €4.30-11.50, mains €11.50-12.50, menu €13; lunch Mon-Sat; Chevaleret

In an annexe of the Department of the Economy & Finance, this brasserie-bar serves well-prepared and traditional French dishes to demanding civil servants. The contemporary décor gives the place a lively feel; the menu is good (although hardly original), featuring such dishes as tartare hâché (steak tartar), faux-filet (beef sirloin) and a range of main-course salads. There’s also a lovely terrace where you can sit on sunny days.

CHEZ GLADINES Map    French, Basque €€

01 45 80 70 10; 30 rue des Cinq Diamants, 13e; starters €5-10, mains €8.50-11.50; lunch & dinner to midnight Sun-Tue, to 1am Wed-Sat; Corvisart

Enormous ‘meal-in-a-metal-bowl’ salads (€6.80-9) and potato platters guaranteed to reap change from a €10 note is the prime draw of this down-to-earth Basque bistro in Buttes aux Cailles. It buzzes with students and spend-thrift diners under 30, and is always a hoot. Traditional Basque specialities (€9.50-11) to munch on atop red-and-checked cloth tables include pipérade and poulet basque (chicken cooked with tomatoes, onions, peppers and white wine). Arrive early to grab a pew.

SMOOTHIE TIME Map    Juice & Salad Bar €

01 45 83 98 88; www.smoothie-time.com, in French; 22 av Pierre Mendès France, 13e; salads €6.40-8.90, bagels €3.50-6.60, menu breakfast €8.90, lunch €8.50 & 11.50; 8.30am-7.30pm Mon-Fri; Gare d’Austerlitz

This pristine space polka-dotted with trendy lime-green and shocking-pink furnishings is a look good/feel good type of hangout. Juices, smoothies, salads and filled bagels are categorised on the menu according to their muscle-, energy-, beauty- or veggie-power. All very trendy.

FIL ‘O’ FROMAGE Map    French, Cheese €

01 53 79 13 35; www.filofromage.com; 12 rue Neuve Tolbiac, 13e; sandwiches €4.50-7, menus €14.50-15.50; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Wed, to 10.30pm Thu-Sat; Bibliothèque

This new fromagerie offering lunches and light meals throughout the day six days a week is godsend in an area that is not overly endowed with places to eat, especially budget ones. Everything here involves cheese, including the assiette froide (cold plate) of three cheese, three cold meats and salad and the poêlons (pots) of warm cheese.

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SELF-CATERING

Wines selected by and dishes created by top Parisian chef Christophe Beaufront are sold to take home at L’Avant-GoÛt Coté Cellier (Map; 01 53 81 14 06; www.lavantgout.com, in French; 37 rue Bobillot, 13e; noon-8pm Tue-Fri, 10.30am-1.30pm & 3.30-8.30pm Sat; Place d’Italie). Don’t miss his signature dish, pot au feu au cochon aux épices (spicy pork stew).

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15E ARRONDISSEMENT

With its dearth of food shops and twin-set of quintessential café-cum-bars on seemingly every pair of street corners, this is one arrondissement where you know real Parisians really live. Solidly down to earth and stoically free of any trendy concept dining, the 15e cooks up fabulously simple bistro fare. Rue de la Convention, rue de Vaugirard, rue St-Charles, rue du Commerce and those south of blvd de Grenelle are key streets.

Near the water, two culinary innovators add an element of surprise: Japanese nouvelle-cuisine chef Hisayuki Takeuchi’s Saturday-afternoon École du Sushi at Kaiseki Sushi (Map; 01 45 54 48 60; www.kaiseki.com; 7bis rue André Lefevbre, 15e; Javel) is the place in Paris to learn how to make sushi; Cyril Lignac, something of a Jamie Oliver with his televised chef-training and school canteen projects, cooks up cuisine attitude at Le 15ème ( 01 45 54 43 43; www.cyrillignac.com; 14 rue Cauchy, 15e; menu lunch €40, dinner €105; lunch & dinner to 10pm Mon-Fri, dinner Sat; Javel), aptly placed on the ground floor of an apartment block.

KIM ANH Map    Vietnamese €€€

01 45 79 40 96; 49 av Émile Zola, 15e; starters €13-15, mains €22-42, menu €37; dinner to 10.30pm daily; Charles Michels

A travel guide hotspot situated across the road from Sawadee, this place is the antithesis of the typically Parisian canteen-style Vietnamese restaurant. Kim Anh greets its customers with tapestries, white tablecloths, fresh flowers and extraordinarily fresh and flavoursome food, all elaborately presented. The émincé de bœuf à la citronnelle (beef with lemon grass) is a skilful combination of flavours, but the true sensation is the caramelised langoustine.

L’OS À MOËLLE Map    French, Bistro €€€

01 45 57 27 27; 3 rue Vasco de Gama, 15e; menus lunch €17 & €30, dinner €36; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Fri, dinner to midnight Sat; Lourmel

Marrowbone chef Thierry Faucher (ex-Hotel Crillon) makes no bones about his outstanding cuisine wholly inspired by ‘the market, the season and the humour of the moment’. His six-course sampling menus are among the most affordable in town, embracing delicacies like scallops with coriander, sea bass in cumin butter or half a quail with endives and chestnuts, while his chocolate quenelle (dumpling) with saffron cream is award-winning. Should you fail to snag a table, try his wine bar Click here opposite.

SAWADEE Map    Thai €€€

01 45 77 68 90; 53 av Émile Zola, 15e; menu lunch €14.50, dinner €20, €25, €28 & €32; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Sat; Charles Michels

For 20 years this well-known restaurant has been bidding sawadee (welcome) to Thai-food lovers – and is in most guidebooks to prove it. The décor is rather impersonal, but the sophisticated cuisine more than makes up for it. Twist your tongue around prawn or chicken soup flavoured with lemon grass, spicy beef salad (a real treat), satay sticks (chicken, beef, lamb and pork) with peanut sauce and other classic dishes of Siam.

LE CRISTAL DE SEL Map    French €€

01 42 50 35 29; www.lecristaldesel.fr, in French; 13 rue Mademoiselle, 15e; starters €10-17, mains €16-24; lunch & dinner to 10pm Tue-Sat; Commerce

The raved-about stage of young rising chef Karl Lopez, this modern bistro has a distinct kitchen feel with its small brightly-lit white walls, white-painted beams and gaggle of busy chefs behind the bar. The only decorative feature is a candle-lit crystal of rose-tinted salt on each table – a sure sign that food is what The Salt Crystal is all about. Lopez’s tarte à la bergamote fraîche meringuée (lemon meringue pie) – divine – has to be the zestiest in Paris. Reservations essential.

LE CASIER À VIN Map    French, Bistro €€

01 45 57 27 27; [email protected]; 53 rue Olivier de Serres, 15e; starters €7-10.50, mains €13.80-19.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm Sat; Convention

The bottle-lined walls, ham-cutting machine, wood-slat blinds and tatty mustard façade promise great things. Indeed, this much-loved bistro is a dining staple in most 15e Parisians’ daily lives. Titillate your tastebuds with a signature assiette de dégustation (tasting platter; €12.50) of fromage (cheese) or charcuterie (cold cuts), or go for a classic like pot au feu de canard (duck stew) or tartare de bœuf (steak tartare). After the main course, sweeten your tastebuds with a bowl of riz au lait à l’ancienne (old-fashioned rice pudding) and leave in love with the place.

AL WADY Map    Lebanese €€

01 45 58 57 18; 153 rue de Lourmel, 15e; starters €10, mains €14.50-18, lunch menus €12 & €14.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri, dinner to 10.30pm Sat; Lourmel

It’s not so much the decor as the incredibly warm welcome complemented by a cuisine well above average that has made this Lebanese restaurant much-loved over the years. Around for a couple of decades, Parisians flock here to gorge on meal-sized platters of mixed hot and cold mezzes, grilled meats and unbeatable-value lunchtime menus. Among the handful of Al Wady specialities is moutabal, a typical Lebanese aubergine dip spiced with walnut and pomegranate.

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ALSO RECOMMENDED

 
  • Le Troquet (Map; 01 45 66 89 00; 21 rue François Bonvin, 15e; 2-/3-course menu lunch €24/28, dinner €30 & €40; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat; Sèvres Lecourbe) ‘Ordinary’ things cooked with a spin by Basque chef Christian Etchebest.
  • Les Dix Vins (Map; 01 43 20 91 77; 57 rue Falguière, 15e; menu lunch €20, dinner €24; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm Sat; Pasteur) Excellent value and good service at this tiny restaurant devoted to Bacchus; only menus.

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SELF-CATERING

The 15e has two markets, Marché Grenelle and Marché St-Charles, and ample supermarkets including Monoprix (Map; 2 rue du Commerce, 15e; 9am-10pm Mon-Sat; La Motte Picquet-Grenelle). If all you seek for lunch is a well-filled bread roll (from €3.60 to €4.70) or salad and a fruit tart (from €5 to €8.50) to take away or eaten at bar-stool seating, bakery Maison Kayser (Map; 49 rue Linois, 15e, 7am-8.30pm Mon-Sat; Charles Michels) is the best deal around.

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MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE

The 18e arrondissement, where you’ll find Montmartre and the northern boundary of Pigalle, thrives on crowds and little else. When you’ve got Sacré Coeur, place du Tertre and its portrait artists and Paris literally at your feet, who needs decent restaurants? But that’s not to say that everything is a write-off in this well-trodden tourist area. You just have to pick and choose a bit more carefully than elsewhere in Paris. The restaurants along rue des Trois Frères, for example, are generally a much better bet than their touristy counterparts in and around place du Tertre.

À LA CLOCHE D’OR Map    French €€€

01 48 74 48 88; www.alaclochedor.com, in French; 3 rue Mansart, 9e; starters €7.50-10, mains €18-33; menus €18.50 (lunch only), €29 & €33; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 5am Mon-Sat; Blanche or Pigalle

This place, at the foot of the Butte Montmartre since 1928 and once the property of actress Jeanne Moreau’s parents, is the antithesis of trendy. Decorated in ‘old bistro’ style with photos of stars of stage (mostly) and screen (some) plastering the walls, ‘The Gold Bell’ serves up favourites like steak tartare (its signature dish), massive steaks and fish of the day. Order the baked Camembert and, in winter, sit by the fire.

CAFÉ BURQ Map    French €€€

01 42 52 81 27; 6 rue Burq, 18e; menus €15 & €19 (lunch only), €26 & €30; lunch & dinner to 2am Tue-Sat; Abbesses

This convivial, retro bistro in the heart of Montmartre is always buzzing; make sure you book ahead – especially at the weekend. Don’t come for the décor or the space, though; both are nonexistent. Instead visit for the unfussy but well-prepared dishes like baked Camembert and lamb shoulder.

LA MASCOTTE Map    French, Seafood €€€

01 46 06 28 15; www.la-mascotte-montmartre.com; 52 rue des Abbesses, 18e; starters €8.50-11.50, mains €19-25, menu €19.50 (lunch only) & €35; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Abbesses

La Mascotte is a small, unassuming spot much frequented by regulars who can’t get enough of its seafood and regional cuisine. In winter, don’t hesitate to sample the wide variety of seafood, especially the shellfish. In summer sit on the terrace and savour the delicious fricassée de pétoncles (fricassee of queen scallops). Meat lovers won’t be disappointed with various regional delicacies, including Auvergne sausage and Troyes andouillette (veal tripe sausage).

LE CHÉRI-BIBI Map    French €€

01 42 54 88 96; 15 rue André del Sarte, 18e; menus €19 & €24; dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat, brunch Sun; Barbès Rochechouart

Taking its name from the series of detective novels by Gaston Leroux (1868–1927), this odd little place can be found (with some difficulty, it must be said) on a grotty street on the ‘other’ (read: wrong) side of the Butte de Montmartre and when you arrive you won’t even know it as there is no sign outside. Just look for the thick black drapes in the shopfront window and enter what feels like the 1950s, with its postwar décor and excellent ‘family’ cooking (try the boeuf bourguignon).

IL DUCA Map    Italian €€

01 46 06 71 98; 26 rue Yvonne le Tac, 18e; starters €9-14, mains €15-23.50, menu €13 (lunch only) & €24; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm daily; Abbesses

This intimate little Italian restaurant has good, straightforward food, including homemade pastas (€11 to €13). The selection of Italian wine and cheese is phenomenal; themed weeks, with various regions and types of produce, are scheduled throughout the year.

CHEZ PLUMEAU Map    French €€

01 46 06 26 29; 4 place du Calvaire, 18e; starters €9.8-17, mains €17-20.50, menu €16 (lunch only); lunch & dinner to midnight daily Apr-Oct, lunch & dinner to 11pm Thu-Mon Nov-Mar; Abbesses

Once the popular Auberge du Coucou restaurant and cabaret, today’s ‘Feather Duster’ caters mainly to tourists fresh from having their portraits done on place du Tertre. But for a tourist haunt it’s not too bad and the back terrace is great on a warm spring or summer afternoon. Plats du jour are a snip at around €15.

CHEZ TOINETTE Map    French €€

01 42 54 44 36; 20 rue Germain Pilon, 18e; starters €6-9, mains €15-20; dinner to 11.15pm Tue-Sat; Abbesses

The atmosphere of this convivial restaurant is rivalled only by its fine cuisine. In the heart of one of the capital’s most touristy neighbourhoods, Chez Toinette has kept alive the tradition of old Montmartre with its simplicity and culinary expertise. Game lovers won’t be disappointed; perdreau (partridge), biche (doe), chevreuil (roebuck) and the famous filet de canard à la sauge et au miel (fillet of duck with sage and honey) are the house specialities and go well with a glass of Bordeaux.

LE CAFÉ QUI PARLE Map    French €€

01 46 06 06 88; 24 rue Caulaincourt, 18e; starters €7-14, mains €13.50-20; menus €12.50 & €17; lunch & dinner to 11pm Thu-Tue; Lamarck Caulaincourt or Blanche

The talking café is a fine example of where modern-day eateries are headed in Paris. It offers inventive, reasonably priced dishes prepared by owner-chef Damian Moeuf and cuisine amid comfortable surroundings. We love the art on the walls and the ancient safes down below (the building was once a bank), but not as much as we do their brunch (€15), served from 10am on Saturdays and Sundays.

LA TABLE D’ANVERS Map    French €€

01 48 78 35 21; 2 place d’Anvers, 9e; starters €11, mains €19, menus €17.90 & €23.90 (lunch only) & €34; lunch Tue-Fri, dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat; Anvers


PHILIPPE FAURE-BRAC
The much decorated Philippe Faure-Brac – he was named Best Sommelier in France in 1988 and Best Sommelier in the World four years later – owns and operates the highly successful Bistrot du Sommelier, produces his own label (a Côtes du Rhône Villages called Domaine Duseigneur) and has written a half-dozen books on the subject of wine and on wine and food pairing, including Exquisite Matches (Éditions EPA, 2005).
Bring me a bottle of... Red from the Rhône Valley – a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, maybe – or a good quality Riesling from Alsace.
Let’s cut to the chase. Is there life beyond French wines? Yes, of course, but understand that my references are French. Parisians are very keen on so-called New World wines and we list bottles from three-dozen different countries on our card, including one from Kent (Chapel Down 2006 Bacchus). The best sauvignon outside France is made in New Zealand, shiraz from Australia is especially good and the best malbec is from Argentina.
I’m going to have a glass of red wine with the chicken and my friend wants white with the lamb. OK with you? The code de couleur does not have to be rigid. What you drink is really a matter of taste; at the end of the day a good wine is a good wine. The question you have to ask yourself is: ‘What is the dominant characteristic of the food?’ Cream sauces can go well with red wine, for example shellfish with champagne and certain cheeses (Chaource, Comté) with rosé.
Then what should I have with my Mexican chilli and my (even spicier) Thai tom yum gung? These two cuisines are especially difficult to pair with wines. Try a white or, even better, a rośe. Avoid reds, particularly complex ones.
About wine whiners... What do you do when someone claims a wine is corked and you know it isn’t? We always smell it first, which tells us whether the wine is off. But one can make mistakes, and the customer is always right. Of course we will change it even if we don’t believe it is corked.
It’s a kind of snobbery, isn’t it? It’s not easy to stay a wine snob for long. A blind taste test is a great equaliser. Wine snobs don’t tend to come here. Instead we get guests who are particularly knowledgeable about wine. If they’re not French, they’re often Belgian or English.
Interviewed by Steve Fallon

Just far enough off the Montmartre tourist track to keep the tourist hordes away, this local favourite overlooking a stylish and grassy square offers contemporary French cuisine with Mediterranean (and especially Provençale) influences. The lunch menus are particularly good value.

ISAAN Map    Thai €€

01 42 80 09 72; 1 rue de Calais, 9e; starters €5-8, mains €10-19; menus €10.90 (lunch only), €14.90 & €16.90; lunch Mon-Fri, dinner to 11pm daily; Blanche

The name of this friendly little eatery just south of Montmartre refers to Thailand’s Northeast, which produces the spiciest dishes in the realm. While we can’t say the dishes blew our tops off, they were certainly authentic. Go for the basics: chicken green curry and pat tai noodles.

LE MAQUIS Map     French €€

01 42 59 76 07; 69 rue Caulaincourt, 18e; starters €10, mains €18, menus €15 (lunch only), €22 & €33; lunch & dinner to 10pm Tue-Sat; Lamarck Caulaincourt

If you’re in Montmartre and despairing over the choice of eateries (overpriced with poor service), give the Butte the boot and head the short distance north to rue Caulaincourt and this typical bistro with cuisine traditionelle (traditional cooking). The name refers to the neighbourhood and not the French Resistance or the herbal underbrush of Corsica. The set lunch includes a 25cL pichet of wine.

LE REFUGE DES FONDUS Map    French, Savoie €€

01 42 55 22 65; www.lerefugedesfondus.com, in French; 17 rue des Trois Frères, 18e; menu €17; dinner to 2am daily; Abbesses or Anvers

This odd place has been a Montmartre favourite for nigh on four decades. The single menu provides an aperitif, hors d’oeuvre, red wine (or beer or soft drink) in a biberon (baby bottle) and a good quantity of either fondue savoyarde (melted cheese) or fondue bourguignonne (meat fondue). The last sitting is at midnight.

LE MONO Map    African, Togolese €€

01 46 06 99 20; 40 rue Véron, 18e; starters €5-15, mains €9-17; dinner to 1am Thu-Tue; Abbesses or Blanche

Le Mono, run by a cheery Togolese family, offers West African specialities, including lélé (flat, steamed cakes of white beans and shrimp; €6.50), azidessi (beef or chicken with peanut sauce; €11), gbekui (goulash with spinach, onions, beef, fish and shrimp; €13) and djenkoumé (grilled chicken with semolina noodles; €12). The rum-based punches are an excellent prelude.

AU PETIT BUDAPEST Map    Hungarian €€

01 46 06 10 34; 96 rue des Martyrs, 18e; starters €7.50-9.50, mains €14.50-16.50, menu €18.50; dinner to midnight Mon-Sat; Abbesses

With old etchings and the requisite Gypsy music, this little eatery does a reasonable job of recreating the atmosphere of a late-19th-century Hungarian csárda (traditional inn). From the chicken paprika to the crepe à la Hortobagy (crepe with meat and crème fraîche; €9.50), these are refined versions of popular Hungarian dishes. For dessert try the ever-rich Gundel palacsinta (flambéed pancake with chocolate and nuts).

LA MAISON ROSE Map    French €€

01 42 57 66 75; 2 rue de l’Abreuvoir, 18e; starters €7.20-13, mains €14.50-16.50, menu €16.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm daily Mar-Oct, lunch Thu-Mon, dinner to 9pm Mon, Thu-Sun Nov-Feb; Lamarck Caulaincourt

Looking for the quintessential Montmartre bistro in a house that was the subject of a lithograph by Maurice Utrillo? Head for the tiny ‘Pink House’ located just north of the Place du Tertre. It’s not so much about food here but rather location, location, location.


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ASIAN RICE & NOODLES
 

LE RELAIS GASCON Map    French, Southwest €€

01 42 58 58 22; 6 rue des Abbesses, 18e; starters €6-11, mains €10.50-16, menus €8 (lunch only), €15 & €23.50; lunch & dinner to midnight daily; Abbesses

Situated just a short stroll from the place des Abbesses, the Relais Gascon has a relaxed atmosphere and authentic regional cuisine at very reasonable prices. The salades géantes (giant salads, a house speciality) and the confit de canard (duck confit) will satisfy big eaters, while the traditional Basque cassoulet and tartiflette are equally tasty and filling. After, try the traditional gâteau basque (a simple layer cake filled with cream and cherry jam) or a crème brÛlée.

AUX NÉGOCIANTS Map    French €€

01 46 06 15 11; 27 rue Lambert, 18e; starters €6.20-12, mains €13.80-15.50; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Mon-Fri; Château Rouge

This old-style wine bar and bistro is far enough from the madding crowds of Montmartre to attract a faithful local clientele. Patés, terrines, traditional mains like bœuf bourguinon, and wine paid for according to consumption – it all feels like the Paris of the 1950s (or even earlier).

L’ÉPICERIE Map    Italian €€

01 48 78 07 50; 51 rue des Martyrs, 9e; salads €6-10, dishes €9-13; 9am-10pm daily; Pigalle

An excellent place for lunch is this Italian grocer and caterer, which has a large array of cold and hot dishes as well as salads available. You can eat in situ in what looks and feels more like café than a shop, or take it with you for a picnic.

LE SOLEIL GOURMAND Map    French, Mediterranean €€

01 42 51 00 50; 10 rue Ravignan, 18e; dishes €8.50-12.50; lunch & dinner to 11pm Tue-Sun; Abbesses

This cheery boutique and restaurant exudes the south of France with its warm décor and simple dishes like salads, savoury tarts and baked bricks (stuffed fritters). Treat yourself to the tarte aux tomates confites (glazed tomato tart) or the (tarte aux oignons, poivrons, raisins et pignons grillés (tart with onion, green peppers, grapes and grilled pine nuts) and any of the wonderful ice creams. The plat du jour is priced between €10.50 and €12.50.

AU GRAIN DE FOLIE Map    Vegetarian €€

01 42 58 15 57; 24 rue de la Vieuville, 18e; dishes €10-12, menus €14 & €16; lunch Tue-Sun, dinner to 11pm Tue-Sat; Abbesses

This hole-in-the-wall macrobiotic and organic eatery run by a woman from Cambridge and in business for over 25 years has excellent vegetarian pâté and vegan quiche. There are also lots of good dippy things like hummus and guacamole.

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SELF-CATERING

Towards place Pigalle there are lots of groceries, many of them open until late at night; try the side streets leading off blvd de Clichy (eg rue Lepic). Heading south from blvd de Clichy, rue des Martyrs, 9e, is lined with food shops almost all the way to the Notre Dame de Lorette metro station. Supermarkets in the area include 8 à Huit (Map; 24 rue Lepic, 18e; 8.30am-10.30pm Mon-Sat; Abbesses) and Ed l’Épicier (Map; 6 blvd de Clichy, 18e; 9am-9pm Mon-Sat; Pigalle).

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BEYOND CENTRAL PARIS

LA DÉFENSE

Quick eats to stave off pangs between business meetings and soulless but pricey woo-that-client places form the backbone of La Défense’s dining scene: The 3rd floor of the Centre Commercial des Quatre Temps ( 01 47 73 54 44; www.les4temps.com, in French; 15 Parvis de la Défense; 9am-10pm Mon-Fri, 8.30am-10pm Sat) alone is loaded with places to eat quickly, be it pizza or pancakes, Häagen-Dazs ice cream, Starbucks coffee, soup ‘n’ juice or stylish Japanese.

GLOBETROTTER Map    Island Cuisine €€€

01 55 91 96 96; 16 place de la Défense; starters €8-23, mains €15-30; lunch Mon-Fri; La Défense Grande Arche

La Défense’s gens d’affaires (businesspeople) come to this tropical restaurant to embark on a culinary tour of the world through various islands. Think swordfish carpaccio with Caribbean pineapple or duck breast with dried fruit. Tables on the wooden-deck terrace face La Grande Arche and those inside woo diners with first-row seats at the Bassin Agam. Shoebox-shaped, this must be the stubbiest building in La Défense!

LE PETIT BOFINGER Map    French, Brasserie €€€

01 46 92 46 46; 1 place du Dôme; menu €20.50 & €25; lunch & dinner until 11pm daily; La Défense Grande Arche

It’s easy to find this glassed-in dining room. Just head to the cinematic glass dome of a building, immediately on your left/right as you walk up/down the steps of the Grande Arche. The fare is typical bistro, bolstered by a good-value formule bistro (€21.80) which invites its overwhelmingly business clientele to network over saucisses de Strasbourg and choucroute (sauerkraut).

BOLDÈRE Map    Vegetarian €€

01 47 73 54 44; 15 Parvis de la Défense; salads €8-15; 9am-1am Mon-Fri; La Défense Grande Arche

The hottest address on the block, this bar à legumes on the 3rd floor of Les Quatre Temps has done a roaring trade since its debut in late 2007. Health-conscious punters build their salad from a hundred and one different ingredients or plump for one of four different homemade soups. Interior décor is contemporary, the mood, chic-casual and the cuisine, 100% vegetarian. An invigorating shot of country air in a wholly urban landscape.

K10 Map    Japanese €

01 47 44 92 52, 15 Parvis de la Défense; dishes €2.20-5.80; noon-10.30pm daily; La Défense Grande Arche

Dishes are colour-coded at this quick, bright, modern eating joint, tagged as the ‘rolling fusion-food experience’, also on Les Quatre Temps’ 3rd floor. Sit down on a bar stool or bright table, and take your pick from the mouth-watering array of rolls, yakitori (Japanese brochettes), sashimi, maki and sushi dishes that glide silently past on a conveyor belt. White dishes cost the least, orange the most.

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ST-DENIS

There are a number of restaurants in the modern shopping area around the Basilique de St-Denis metro station.

LES ARTS Map    North African, French €€

01 42 43 22 40; 6 rue de la Boulangerie; starters €6-7, mains €11-18, menu €18; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm Tue-Sun; Basilique de St-Denis

This central restaurant has mostly Maghreb cuisine (couscous, tajines etc; €11 to €16), with a few traditional French dishes as well, and comes recommended by local people. It’s just opposite the basilica.

LE PETIT BRETON Map    French, Breton €€

01 48 20 11 58; 18 rue de la Légion d’Honneur; menus €11 & €14; 10am-3pm Mon-Fri, 11.30am-3.30pm Sat; St-Denis Porte de Paris

‘The Little Breton’ is a decent spot for a lunch of traditional French fare (don’t expect galettes or crepes despite the name). The plat du jour is a bargain-basement €8.

LE CAFÉ DE L’ORIENT Map    Tearoom €

01 48 20 30 83; 8 blvd de la Commune de Paris; teas €3-8, cocktails €5-6; noon-midnight; Basilique de St-Denis

If you fancy some North African mint tea and pastries or a cocktail, this is a comfortable Moroccan café with overstuffed cushions and Moroccan décor northeast of the basilica. They also do heartier dishes such as couscous and tajines.

Self-Catering

The large, multi-ethnic food market (Map; place Jean Jaurès; 8am-2pm Tue, Fri & Sun; Basilique de St-Denis) is opposite the tourist office. Halle du Marché, the large covered market a short stroll to the northwest, is known for its selection of spices.

Franprix (Map; 34 rue de la République; 9am-8pm Mon, 8.30am-8pm Tue-Sat, 8.30am-1.30pm Sun; Basilique de St-Denis) is in the centre of town near the post office.


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DRINKING


    PRACTICALITIES
LOUVRE & LES HALLES
MARAIS & BASTILLE
LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES
ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
MONTPARNASSE
FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES
ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE
OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS
GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE
MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE
GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY
13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN
    ALSO RECOMMENDED
15E ARRONDISSEMENT
MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE



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What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



Yearning for a chilled venue where you don’t need a gold-plated credit card or membership to the local anarchists’ association to feel at ease? Don’t despair: there’s far more to the Parisian drinking scene than chic, design-driven lounge bars brimming with beautiful people, or tatty, dime-a-dozen tabacs (bar-tobacconists) with thin-haired regulars propping up the bar.

Drinking in Paris as salt-of-the-earth Parisians do means: savouring wafer-thin slices of saucisson (sausage) over a glass of sauvignon on a terrace at sundown; quaffing an early-evening apéritif in the same literary café as Sartre and Simone once did; dancing on tables to bossa nova beats; hovering at a zinc counter with local winos; indulging in a spot of dégustation (tasting; boxed text); sipping martinis on a dark leather couch while listening to live jazz; sipping gyokuro in a trendy Japanese salon de thé (tearoom).

In a country where eating and drinking are as inseparable as cheese and wine, it’s inevitable that the line between bars, cafés and bistros is blurred at best (no, you haven’t drunk too much). Practically every place serves food of some description, but those featured in this chapter are favoured, first and foremost, as happening places to drink – be it alcohol, coffee or tea.

The distinct lack of any hardcore clubbing circuit in the French capital, moreover, only serves to spice up Paris’ drinking scene still further; what might appear as a simple café at 5pm can morph quite comfortably to DJ bar and pounding dance floor as the night rolls on.

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PRACTICALITIES

Drinking in Paris essentially means paying the rent for the space you take up. So it costs more sitting at tables than standing at the counter, more on a fancy square than a backstreet, more in the 8e than in the 18e. Come 10pm many cafés apply a pricier tarif de nuit (night rate).

A glass of wine starts at €3 or €4, a cocktail costs €7 to €15 and a demi (half-pint) of beer is €3 to €5. In clubs and chic bars, prices are easily double this. To hunt down the place with the cheapest drinks, just follow the trail of students. Most venues have a ‘happy hour’ with reduced-price drinks from around 5pm to 9pm.


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FOR COCKTAILS
Feeling fancy? Flit into urban high life for a taste of Paris at its most chic:
 

Closing time tends to be 2am, though some bars have later licences. Click here for clubbing spots and Click here for live music venues – great places to drink, too.

Since 1 January 2008, the Parisian drinking scene has been smoke-free – kind of. Following the blanket smoking-in-public-places ban (Click here), smokers have simply moved from inside to out, socialising on the street in front of bars instead or lighting up on packed pavement terraces which, heated and plastic-covered during the colder months, are smokier than ever!

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LOUVRE & LES HALLES

Some great bars skirt the no-man’s-land of Les Halles, but be prudent and avoid crossing the garden above the Forum des Halles at night. Rue des Lombards is celebrated for its jazz venues Click here, while sophisticated bars are grouped towards the Louvre and Palais Royal. The Étienne Marcel area, especially along rue Tiquetonne and rue Montorgueil, has a fine selection of hip cafés. This area is right next to the happening bars of rue Montmartre, which are listed on Click here.

FOOTSIE Map    Bar

01 42 60 07 20; 10-12 rue Daunou, 2e; 6pm-2am Mon-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Opéra

In this place – otherwise known as the FTSE (the London Stock Exchange) – drink prices are floated like stocks, with prices changing according to demand; when certain drinks are purchased they then cost more, while others drop in price. It’s a successful gimmick and the gorgeous wood-panelled bar attracts besuited brokers and way-too-young girls batting their eyelashes throughout the night.

LE CAFÉ NOIR Map    Bar

01 40 39 07 36; 65 rue Montmartre, 2e; 8am-2am Mon-Fri, 4pm-2am Sat; Sentier

An excellent, dependable bar on the edge of the Sentier garment district, ‘The Black Café’ is, in fact, predominantly red, and one of those bars you decide to turn into a regular haunt. It’s always packed, with a mix of French and Anglo imbibers attracted by the friendly and very hip ambience.

LE CŒUR FOU Map    Bar

01 42 33 91 33; 55 rue Montmartre, 2e; 5pm-2am; Étienne Marcel

‘The Crazy Heart’ is hip without attaining that too-cool-by-half pretentiousness that reigns in the Étienne Marcel environs. It’s a tiny, gallery-like bar with little candles nestled in whitewashed walls, a dapper late-20s crowd that doesn’t keep to itself, and art exhibitions that rotate every two weeks.

L’IMPRÉVU Map    Bar

01 42 78 23 50; 9 rue Quincampoix, 4e; 1pm-2am Sun, noon-2am Tue-Sat; Rambuteau

‘The Unexpected’ is just that – something of an oasis in the busy Les Halles area. It’s a relatively inexpensive and gay-friendly bar, with mismatched furniture and a relaxed charm. The bar is quite large but the different rooms and corners mean you’ll soon find your niche. It’s popular with students.

CAFÉ DES INITIÉS Map    Café

01 42 33 78 29; 3 place des Deux Écus, 1er; 8am-2am; Louvre-Rivoli

This modern-design café almost on rue du Louvre is popular with journalists and communications types. While not a late-night venue, it has a pleasant terrace and is great for evening drinks, coffees and light meals (plats du jour – daily specials – around €14.50). Slick service, nondeafening music and good food attract a trendy 30-something mix of suits and hooded tops.

HARRY’S NEW YORK BAR Map    Cocktail Bar

01 42 61 71 14; 5 rue Daunou, 2e; 10.30am-4am; Opéra

One of the most popular American-style bars in the prewar years (when there were several dozen in Paris), Harry’s once welcomed such habitués as writers F Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway, who no doubt sampled the bar’s unique cocktail and creation: the Bloody Mary. The Cuban mahogany interior dates from the mid-19th century and was brought over from a Manhattan bar in 1911. There’s a basement piano bar and, for the peckish, old-school hot dogs and tasty club sandwiches. The advertisement for Harry’s that occasionally appears in the International Herald Tribune still reads ‘Tell the Taxi Driver Sank Roo Doe Noo’ and is copyrighted.

HEMINGWAY BAR Map    Cocktail Bar

01 43 16 30 50; Hôtel Ritz Paris, 15 place Vendôme, 1er; 6.30pm-2am; Madeleine

This epic bar, nestled in the finery and grandeur of the Ritz, is a paean to Papa and is where he imbibed after making a name for himself. Legend has it that during the liberation of Paris, Hemingway himself was put in charge of the bar – complete with machine gun. Fabulous décor, outstanding cocktails (from €22) and expert bar staff.

KONG Map    Cocktail Bar

01 40 39 09 00; 5th fl, 1 rue du Pont Neuf, 1er; 10.30am-2am Sun-Thurs, to 3am Fri & Sat; Pont Neuf

This Philippe Starck–designed bar is carefully perched upon the Kenzo building. The concept is kind of postmodern Japanese, a cradle for new-generation wannabes who trail their Vuitton handbags along the bar and snap their fingers for more bottles of champagne. The cocktails are around €13, not bad for a place this pretentious, and DJs playing hip-hop Thursday to Saturday somehow get everyone dancing on the tables. Happy hour is 6pm to 8pm. Dress up: no running shoes.

LE FUMOIR Map    Cocktail Bar

01 42 92 00 24; 6 rue de l’Amiral de Coligny, 1er; 11am-2am; Louvre-Rivoli

This colonial-style bar-restaurant opposite the eastern flank of the Louvre is a fine place to sip top-notch gin from quality glassware while nibbling on olives; during happy hour (6pm to 8pm) the cocktails, usually €8.50 to €11, drop to €6. There’s a buoyant, corporate crowd on weekday evenings. The restaurant is popular for late breakfast during the week and brunch on Sundays; try to get a seat in the ‘library’.

CAFÉ OZ Map    Pub

01 40 39 00 18; 18 rue St-Denis, 1er; 5pm-3am Sun-Thu, to 6am Fri, 1pm-6am Sat; Châtelet

A militantly Aussie pub at the bottom of sleazy rue St-Denis, Oz is authentic – from its wood-and-ochre décor to its strong commitment to maximising your drink intake. Convivial bordering on raucous, it’s popular with Anglos but the French love it too. The place is packed on Friday and Saturday nights, when it heats up with DJs and dancing. Happy hour is 6pm to 8pm. There’s also a smaller and more chilled branch in Pigalle (Map; 01 40 16 11 16; 1 rue de Bruxelles, 9e; 5pm-2am Sun-Wed, to 4am Thurs, to 10am Fri & Sat; Blanche) and Happy Hour is from 6pm to 9pm.

ANGÉLINA Map    Tea Room

01 42 60 82 00; 226 rue de Rivoli, 1er; 9am-5pm; Tuileries

Take a break from the long trek along the Tuileries gardens and line up for a table at Angélina, along with the lunching ladies, their posturing poodles and half the students from Waseda University. This beautiful, high-ceilinged tearoom has exquisite furnishings, mirrored walls and fabulous fluffy cakes. More importantly, it serves the best and most wonderfully sickening ‘African’ hot chocolate in the history of time (€6.20), served with a pot of whipped cream. It’s a positive meal replacement and is said to be the best hot chocolate in Paris.


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BAR-HOPPING STREETS
 
  • Rue Princesse & rue des Canettes, 6e Student, sports ’n’ tapas bars and pubs.
  • Rue Oberkampf & rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e (right) Hip bars, bohemian hang-outs and atmospheric cafés.
  • Rue de la Roquette, rue Keller & rue de Lappe, 11e (right) Whatever you fancy; Bastille has the lot.
  • Rue Montmartre, 2e Modern, slick bars and pubs.
  • Canal St-Martin, 10e Heady summer nights in casual canal-side cafés.
  • Rue Vieille du Temple & surrounding streets, 4e (right) Marais cocktail of gay bars and chic cafés.

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MARAIS & BASTILLE

The Marais is an excellent spot to go out for drinks. It’s a fascinating mix of gay-friendly (and gay-only) café society and bourgeois arty spots, with an interesting sprinkling of eclectic bars and relatively raucous pubs. Bastille has become increasingly démodé (unfashionable) and even crass over the years, but it invariably draws a crowd, particularly to heaving rue de Lappe. Things get quieter – and better – as you go further up rue de la Roquette and rue de Charonne. Rue Keller has some good cafés and a decent gay bar (Click here).

AU PETIT FER À CHEVAL Map    Bar

01 42 72 47 47; 30 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 9am-2am; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

The original (1903) horseshoe-shaped zinc bar leaves little room for much else, but nobody seems to mind at this genial place. It overflows with friendly regulars enjoying a drink or a sandwich (simple meals are served from noon to 1am). The stainless-steel toilets are straight out of a Flash Gordon film.

BOCA CHICA Map    Bar

01 43 57 93 13; 58 rue de Charonne, 11e; 4pm-1am Mon-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Ledru Rollin

This enormous, colourfully decorated place attracts a salsa-lovin’ crowd that isn’t shy about getting up to dance. When the multilevel bar areas and terrace are not hosting salsa soirees you’ll find DJs, flamenco artists and ’80s theme nights. The extensive tapas selection is unsatisfying; stick to the sangria. Happy hour is 4pm to 8pm.

HAVANITA CAFÉ Map    Bar

01 43 55 96 42; 11 rue de Lappe, 11e; 5pm-2am Sun-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Bastille

Flashy Cuban style every inch of the way, from the mojitos (Cuban cocktails created with rum, mint and limes) to the main courses to the murals on the walls. This attractive but commercial bar-restaurant has stood the test of time on the increasingly lurid rue de Lappe, thanks to its always reliably festive atmosphere.

IGUANA CAFÉ Map    Bar

01 40 21 39 99; 15 rue de la Roquette, 11e; 3pm-5am; Bastille

A contemporary, two-level, backlit café-pub whose clientele is slipping progressively from 30-somethings to early-20s punters. It’s the best of a mediocre bunch and we love the red, black and silver décor on two levels. It has the advantage of closing late – or would that be early? – every night, and there’s a DJ at the weekend, with themed nights twice a month.

LA CHAISE AU PLAFOND Map    Bar

01 42 76 03 22; 10 Rue du Trésor, 4e; 9.30am-2am; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

‘The Chair on the Ceiling’ is a peaceful, warm place, with wooden tables outside on a terrace giving onto tranquil passage du Trésor. It’s a real oasis from the frenzy of the Marais and worth knowing about in summer.

LA PERLE Map    Bar

01 42 72 69 93; 78 rue Vieille du Temple, 3e; 6am-2am Mon-Fri, 8am-2am Sat & Sun; St-Paul or Chemin Vert

This is where bobos (bohemian bourgeois) come to slum it over un rouge (glass of red wine) until the DJ arrives and things liven up. We like the (for real) distressed look of the place and the locomotive over the bar.

LE CAFÉ DIVAN Map     Bar

01 48 05 72 36; 60 rue de la Roquette, 11e; 8am-2am; Bastille

Although a touch sombre, the Divan bar-restaurant scores a mention for three reasons. First, its long copper bar with stools: highly suitable for that moody apéritif or Le Monde–scrutinising coffee break. Second, a local clientele that’s older and considerably less hysterical than the usual rue de Lappe lot. And, finally, it opens onto a little passage – great on a warm evening.

LES ÉTAGES Map    Bar

01 42 78 72 00; 35 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 5pm-2am; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

Students and expats find ‘The Storeys’ (all three of them) a viable alternative to the standard Marais fare, and happily appropriate the upgraded lounge rooms upstairs. Before 9.30pm certain cocktails are €4.50 (instead of the usual €8).

LES FUNAMBULES Map    Bar

01 43 70 83 70; 12 rue Faidherbe, 11e; 8am-2am Mon-Sat, noon-midnight Sun; Faidherbe Chaligny

Like so many small cafés in east Paris, ‘The Tightrope Walkers’ has been transformed into a fashionable bar. While the original architecture provides character, nowadays the terrace is crammed with beautiful people on warm summer evenings. The rest of the year customers take shelter inside under the stunning coffered ceiling with chandelier and bird cages and enjoy a cocktail at the bar or a snack in the back room.

L’ÉTOILE MANQUANTE Map    Bar

01 42 72 48 34; 34 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 8am-2am; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

A long, elegant room with a long, elegant wine and cocktail list, ‘The Missing Star’ takes standard café-bar décor up a slight notch with modern art, metal frames and fittings, clustered mirrors and dim lighting. There are light meals but it’s not a restaurant as such.

L’OBJECTIF LUNE Map    Bar

01 48 06 46 05; 19 rue de la Roquette, 11e; 6pm-5am; Bastille

This perennial favourite (the name comes from a Tintin story) in Bastille attracts punters with its ‘Maxi Happy Hours’ – 6pm to 9pm and 9pm to 1.30am, when pints are €3 and €4 respectively – and its Cuban-themed and DJ nights, when it works itself up to a fever pitch.

MIXER BAR Map    Bar

01 48 87 55 44; 23 rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; 7pm-2am; Hôtel de Ville

This bright and colourful club has regular party nights and chill-out sessions. Blended up in this hedonistic mix are an animated gay crowd, a happy sprinkling of enlightened heteros, and three different DJs each night, spinning techno, electro and house.

POP IN Map    Bar

01 48 05 56 11; 105 rue Amelot, 11e; 6.30pm-1.30am Tue-Sun; St-Sébastien Froissart

All skinny jeans and cultivated pop-rock nonchalance, the Pop In somehow got itself on the in-crowd map but maintains a relaxed regulars’ vibe. It’s popular with expats and Parisian students starting out the evening, and the drinks are reasonably priced.

SANZ SANS Map    Bar

01 44 75 78 78; 49 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 11e; 9am-2am Sun-Thu, to 5am Fri & Sat; Bastille

A little cheesy, a lot sleazy, this lively bar clad in red velvet and zebra stripes continues to hold out as a busy drinking venue on the Bastille beat. DJs play a very mixed bag of music, mostly electronic or funk and soul, and the crowd is similarly unpredictable. It’s always good fun. There’s a €5 cover charge at the weekend.

LE PICK-CLOPS Map    Bar, Café

01 40 29 02 18; 16 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 7am-2am Mon-Sat, 8am-2am Sun; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

This buzzy bar-café – all shades of blue and lit by neon – has Formica tables, ancient bar stools and plenty of mirrors. Attracting a friendly flow of locals and passers-by, it’s a great place for morning or afternoon coffee, or that last drink alone or with friends. Great rum punch served with copious amounts of peanuts.

BAZ’ART CAFÉ Map    Café

01 42 78 62 23; 36 blvd Henri IV, 4e; 7.30am-2am; Bastille

This café, whose name sounds suspiciously like ‘bizarre’ in English, is just southwest of Bastille but could be a million miles away from the hoopla usually associated with that quartier (neighbourhood). It’s a grown-up, stylish place with friendly service and good-value food.

CAFÉ DES PHARES Map    Café

01 42 72 04 70; 7 place de la Bastille, 4e; 7.30am-3am Sun-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Bastille

‘The Beacons Café’ is best known as the city’s original philocafé (philosophers’ café), established by the late philosopher and Sorbonne professor Marc Sautet (1947–98) in 1992. If you feel like debating such topics as ‘What is a fact?’ and ‘Can people communicate?’, head for this place at 11am on Sunday. It sounds posey in the extreme and it is, but – hey! – this is Paris.

CENTRE CULTUREL SUÉDOIS Map    Café

01 44 78 80 20; 11 rue Payenne, 3e; noon-6pm Tue-Sun; Chemin Vert

Housed in the beautiful Hôtel de Marle, a 16th-century mansion, this gorgeous café in the Swedish Cultural Centre hosts a variety of exhibitions, concerts and debates, with rich resources on Swedish history and culture. But what we’re interested in here are the delicious soups, sandwiches and cakes and the tables outside in the tranquil paved courtyard.

L’APPAREMMENT CAFÉ Map    Café

01 48 87 12 22; 18 rue des Coutures St-Gervais, 3e; noon-2am Mon-Sat, 12.30pm-midnight Sun; St-Sébastien Froissart

This place is a tasteful haven tucked behind the Musée Picasso and at a merciful distance from the Marais, madding crowds. It’s a bit like a private living room, with wood panelling, leather sofas, scattered parlour games, dog-eared books – and Parisians languidly studying their ‘lounch’ (their word, not ours) and (on Sunday till 4pm) their brunch – or is that ‘brounch’? – menus.

LE PURE CAFÉ Map    Café

01 43 71 47 22; 14 rue Jean Macé, 11e; 7am-2am Mon-Fri, 8am-2am Sat, 10am-midnight Sun; Charonne

This old café, which should be declared a national monument (if it already hasn’t been), moonlights as a restaurant with a modern kitchen and some dishes that veer toward ‘world’ food (mains €16.50 to €20). But we like it as it was intended to be, especially over a grand crème (large white coffee) and the papers on Sunday morning.

PAUSE CAFÉ Map    Café

01 48 06 80 33; 41 rue de Charonne, 11e; 7.30am-2am Mon-Sat, 9am-8.30pm Sun; Ledru Rollin

Principally a restaurant with plats du jour for around €12, this attractive café with lots of windows remains a firmly popular destination for drinks, meals, coffee or brunch. Well situated a little away from the fray of Bastille, its generous terrace (covered and heated in winter) fills up with fashionable locals and the almost famous.

ANDY WAHLOO Map    Cocktail Bar

01 42 71 20 38; 69 rue des Gravilliers, 3e; 5pm-2am Tue-Sat; Arts et Métiers

Casablanca meets pop-artist Andy Warhol in this cool, multicoloured cocktail lounge hidden away just north of the Centre Georges Pompidou. Its clever name means ‘I have nothing’ in Arabic. The acid colours, sweet cocktails, pushy staff and loud house music may be a bit too much for some palates, but it’s a lively, spirited little bar that most will enjoy. There are great olives as well as promising meze plates. Happy hour is 5pm to 8pm. Enter through the courtyard.

BOTTLE SHOP Map    Pub

01 43 14 28 04; 5 rue Trousseau, 11e; 11.30am-2am; Ledru Rollin

A popular lunch café by day, this great little local has a lively pub feeling in the evenings. There’s a welcoming mix of regular expats and travellers – at least half the friendly banter going on is in English. Happy hour is 5pm to 8pm.

LIZARD LOUNGE Map    Pub

01 42 72 81 34; 18 rue du Bourg Tibourg, 4e; noon-2pm; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

A quality outpost of Anglo-Saxon attitude in the heart of the Marais, this relaxed pub has beer on tap, cocktails and food (think club sandwiches and burgers). Young expats with clutch purses file straight downstairs to the cellar, complete with stone walls, a DJ, and magnanimous little corners in which to schmooze.


top picks
FOR TEA
Salons de thé – English, Japanese or North African – are increasingly chic in Paris.
 

PURE MALT Map    Pub

01 42 76 03 77; 4 rue Caron, 4e; 5pm-2am; St-Paul

A little Scottish pub-bar just south of the lovely place du Marché Ste-Catherine, the Pure Malt is for the whisky connoisseur. More than 150 types of whisky are on hand to try at €7 to €17 a glass. It concentrates mainly on single malts, though there’s beer available for €5 or €6 a pint. It’s a great place for watching sport and there’s a DJ on Friday and Saturday evenings.

STOLLY’S Map    Pub

01 42 76 06 76; 16 rue de la Cloche Percée, 4e; 4.30pm-2am; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul

This itty-bitty Anglophone pub on a tiny street just above rue de Rivoli is always crowded, particularly during the 4.30pm to 8pm happy hour, when all cocktails and a pint of cheap blonde (that’s the house lager – not the Monroe lookalike propping up the bar) cost €5. When big football matches are on and you’re looking forward to a quiet drink, go elsewhere.

LE LOIR DANS LA THÉIÈRE Map    Tea Room

01 42 72 90 61; 3 rue des Rosiers, 4e; 9.30am-7pm; St-Paul

The cutesily named ‘Dormouse in the Teapot’ is a wonderful old space filled with retro toys, comfy couches and scenes of Through the Looking Glass on the walls. It serves up to a dozen different types of tea, excellent sandwiches and desserts like apple crumble (€8.50 to €12), and brunch at the weekend. Best time to find a table is about 4pm.

LE BISTROT DU PEINTRE Map    Wine Bar

01 47 00 34 39; 116 av Ledru-Rollin, 11e; 8am-2am; Bastille

This lovely belle époque bistro and wine bar should really count more as a restaurant than a drinking place; after all, the food is great. But the 1902 Art Nouveau bar, elegant terrace and spot-on service put this place on our apéritif A-list – and that of local artists, bobos and local celebs.

LE CAFÉ DU PASSAGE Map    Wine Bar

01 49 29 97 64; 12 rue de Charonne, 11e; 6pm-2am; Ledru Rollin

This is the destination of choice for willing wine buffs, who relax in armchairs while sampling vintages from the excellent range on offer. Le Café du Passage has hundreds of wines available, including many by the glass (from €5.80). Whisky aficionados are also catered for and won’t be disappointed by the selection of single malts. It’s a warm, cosy place and gourmet snacks and light meals (€6 to €17) are available.

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LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES

Rive Gauche romantics, well-heeled café society types and students by the gallon drink in the 5e arrondissement, where old-but-good recipes, nostalgic formulas and a flurry of early-evening happy hours ensure a quintessential Parisian soiree. It’s all good fun here, though nothing ground-breaking.

LE CROCODILE Map    Bar

01 43 54 32 37; 6 rue Royer Collard, 5e; 10pm-6am Mon-Sat; Luxembourg

This bar with racing-green wooden shutters has been dispensing cocktails (more than 200 on the list) since 1966. Apparently the ’70s were ‘epic’ in this bar, and the dream kicks on well into the wee hours of the new century. Arrive late for a truly eclectic crowd including lots of students, and an atmosphere that can go from quiet tippling to raucous revelry.

LE PIANO VACHE Map    Bar

01 46 33 75 03; 8 rue Laplace, 5e; noon-2am Mon-Fri, 9pm-2am Sat & Sun; Maubert Mutualité

Down the hill from the Panthéon, this bar is covered in old posters above old couches and is drenched in 1970s and ’80s rock ambience. Effortlessly underground and a real student fave, bands and DJs play mainly rock, plus some goth, reggae and pop.

LE VIEUX CHÊNE Map    Bar

01 43 37 71 51; 69 rue Mouffetard, 5e; 4pm-2am Sun-Thu, to 5am Fri & Sat; Place Monge

This rue Mouffetard institution is reckoned to be Paris’ oldest bar. Indeed, a revolutionary circle met here in 1848 and it was a popular bal musette (dancing club) in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. Today it’s popular with students, and hosts jazz on weekends.

L’URGENCE BAR Map    Bar

01 43 26 45 69; www.urgencebar.com, in French; 45 rue Monsieur le Prince, 6e; 9pm-4am Tue-Sat; Luxembourg

Just south of the École de Médecine is located this medical-themed ‘emergency room’. Here are the future doctors of France, busy imbibing luridly coloured liquor from babies’ bottles and test tubes, loosening their stethoscopes and pointing to the ‘X-ray art’ – making comments like ‘mais non! Clarisse, that’s so not the tibia!’. Even if you don’t understand French, its website gives a good sense of the vibe here.

CURIO PARLOR COCKTAIL CLUB

Map    Bar, Club

06 11 22 29 79; 16 rue des Bernardins, 5e; 6pm-2am Sun-Thu, 6pm-4am Fri & Sat; Maubert Mutualité

This new place, run by the same group who run the Experimental Cocktail Club, opened in mid 2008. It is a bar-cum-club on the weekends, with a good mixture of soul thrown in for good measure. The aim is to see a return to the inter-war années folles (crazy years) of 1920s Paris, London and New York.

CAFÉ DELMAS Map    Café

01 43 26 51 26; 2 place de la Contrescarpe, 5e; 8am-2am Sun-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Cardinal Lemoine

Enviably situated on tree-studded place de la Contrescarpe, the Delmas is a hot spot for chilling over un café/cappuccino (€2.70/5.80) or all-day breakfast (€11). Sit comfortably beneath overhead heaters outside to soak up the street atmosphere or snuggle up between books in the library-style interior – awash with students from the nearby universities. Should you need the loo, Jacqueline is for women, Jacques for men.

LE VERRE À PIED Map    Café

01 43 31 15 72; 118bis rue Mouffetard, 5e; lunch menus €13.50; 8am-9pm Tue-Sat, to 4pm Sun; Censier Daubenton

This café-tabac is a pearl of a place where little has changed since 1870. Its nicotine-hued mirrored wall, moulded cornices and original bar make it part of a dying breed, but the place oozes the charm, glamour and romance of an old Paris everyone loves. Stall holders from the rue Mouffetard market yo-yo in ’n’ out, contemporary photography and art adorns one wall. Lunch is a busy, lively affair, and live music quickens the pulse a couple of evenings a week.

CAVE LA BOURGOGNE Map    Café, Wine Bar

01 47 07 82 80; 144 rue Mouffetard, 5e; 9am-10.30pm; Censier Daubenton

Prime spot for lapping up rue Mouffetard’s contagious ‘saunter-all-day’ spirit, this neighbourhood hang-out sits on square St-Médard, one of the Latin Quarter’s loveliest squares: think flower-bedecked fountain, centuries-old church and tastebud-titillating market stalls spilling across one side. Inside, old ladies and their pet dogs meet for coffee around dark wood tables alongside a local wine-sipping set. In summer everything spills outside.

LE PUB ST-HILAIRE Map    Pub

www.pubsthilaire.com; 2 rue Valette, 5e; 11am-2am Mon-Thu, to 4am Fri, 4pm-4am Sat, 3pm-midnight Sun; Maubert Mutualité

‘Buzzing’ fails to do justice to the pulsating vibe inside this student-loved pub. Generous happy hours last several hours and a trio of pool tables, board games, music on two floors and various gimmicks to rev up the party crowd (a metre of cocktails, ‘be your own barman’ etc) keep the place packed. Pay €3.50/5.50/10 for a demi/pinte/litre of bière pression (draught beer).

LE VIOLON DINGUE Map    Pub

01 43 25 79 93; 46 rue de la Montagne Ste-Geneviève, 5e; 8pm-4.30am Tue-Sat; Maubert Mutualité

A loud, lively bar adopted by revolving generations of students, the ‘Crazy Violin’ attracts lots of young English-speakers with big-screen sports shown upstairs and the flirty ‘Dingue Lounge’ downstairs. The name ‘Crazy Violin’ is a pun on the expression le violon d’Ingres, meaning ‘hobby’ in French, because the celebrated painter Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres used to fiddle in his spare time.

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ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG

While much of the 6e is sleepy and snobby, Carrefour de l’Odéon has a cluster of lively bars, cafés and restaurants. Rue de Buci, rue St-André des Arts and rue de l’Odéon enjoy a fair slice of night action with their arty cafés and busy pubs, while place St-Germain des Prés buzzes with the pavement terraces of St-Germain’s beloved literary cafés. The local and international student hordes pile into the bars and pubs on atmospheric ‘rue de la soif’ (street of thirst), aka rue Princesse and rue des Canettes.

LE ZÉRO DE CONDUITE Map    Bar

01 46 34 26 35; www.zerodeconduite.fr, in French; 14 rue Jacob, 6e; 8.30pm-1.30am Tue-Thu, 6pm-2am Fri & Sat; Odéon

Originality if nothing else ensures that this bijou drinking hole, in the house where Richard Wagner lived briefly in the 1840s, gets a mention. Serving cocktails in biberons (baby bottles) and throwing concours de grimaces (face-pulling competitions), it goes all out to rekindle your infancy. Bizarre, yes, but obviously some enjoy sucking vodka and banana liqueur shaken with grenadine and orange juice through a teat. Board games, dice, cards and Trivial Pursuit complete the playful scene.


top picks
DRINKS ’TIL DAWN
Serious night owls wanting to drink ’til dawn (most bars shut at 2am) should try these top picks; some open late only on weekends.
 

CAFÉ DE FLORE Map    Café

01 45 48 55 26; 172 blvd St-Germain, 6e; 7.30am-1.30am; St-Germain des Prés

The red upholstered benches, mirrors and marble walls at this Art Deco landmark haven’t changed much since the days when Jean-Paul Sartre, Simone de Beauvoir, Albert Camus and Pablo Picasso wagged their chins here. Its busy terrace draws in lunching ladies, posh business-folk and foreigners in search of the past.

LA PALETTE Map    Café

01 43 26 68 15; 43 rue de Seine, 6e; 8am-2am Mon-Sat; Mabillon

In the heart of gallery land (boxed text), this fin-de-siècle café and erstwhile stomping ground of Paul Cézanne and Georges Braque attracts a grown-up set of fashion people and local art dealers. Its summer terrace is beautiful.

LES DEUX MAGOTS Map    Café

01 45 48 55 25; 170 blvd St-Germain, 6e; 7am-1am; St-Germain des Prés

This erstwhile literary haunt dates from 1914 and is known as the favoured hang-out of Sartre, Hemingway and André Breton. Its name refers to the two magots (grotesque figurines) of Chinese dignitaries at the entrance. It’s touristy, but just once you can give in to the nostalgia and sit on this inimitable terrace where passing celebrities, retiring philosophers and remnants of noblesse sip its famous shop-made hot chocolate, served in porcelain jugs.

ALCAZAR Map    Cocktail Bar

01 53 10 19 99; www.alcazar.fr; 62 rue Mazarine, 6e; noon-3pm & 7pm-2am; Odéon

Also known as ‘La Mezzanine’, this hip bar inside Alcazar has got Conran’s name all over it. Narcissistic but alluring, it’s a modern white-and-glass mezzanine overlooking the restaurant with fancy cocktails, nouvelle cuisine dinners and a fashionable supper-club clientele. Wednesday to Saturday, DJs ‘pass records’ in the corner – this place is famous for its excellent trip-hop/house/lounge music compilations. Next door is Conran’s club Le Wagg. Flyers for all three are posted at www.blogalcazar.fr.

HIGHLANDER Map    Pub

01 43 26 54 20; 8 rue de Nevers, 6e; 5pm-5am Mon-Fri, noon-5am Sat; Odéon

Establishing a kind of love/hate relationship with its regulars, the jubilant Highlander scrapes up the after-hours remains of the Left Bank pub crowd. This mainly means French students, Anglophone lassies, rugby players, hobos and combinations thereof, all intent on drinking until dawn. Downstairs from the Scottish pub is a quasi dance floor, moved more by Long Island iced teas served in pint glasses than any kind of rhythm.

LE 10 Map    Pub

01 43 26 66 83; 10 rue de l’Odéon, 6e; 5.30pm-2am; Odéon

A local institution, this cellar pub groans with students, smoky ambience and cheap sangria. Posters adorn the walls and an eclectic selection emerges from the jukebox – everything from jazz and the Doors to chanson française (‘French song’; traditional musical genre where lyrics are paramount). It’s the ideal spot for plotting the next revolution or conquering a lonely heart.

LITTLE TEMPLE BAR Map    Pub

01 43 26 79 95; www.littletemplebar.fr; 12 rue Princesse, 6e; 5pm-2am Mon-Fri, noon-2am Sat & Sun; Mabillon

Sports fans pile in to this Irish bar, where football and rugby matches are screened live. It can get heated depending on who’s playing/winning, and the place practically vibrates with noise. But that’s all part of the vibe. Happy hour (5pm to 8pm, Monday to Friday) whittles a pint down to €5.

O’NEIL Map    Pub

01 46 33 36 66; 20 rue des Canettes, 6e; noon-2am; Mabillon

This micro brasserie brews its own: Taste all four with a palatte en dégustation (€5.90) or pick the colour to suit your – blonde (blond), blanche (white), brune (brown) or ambŕee (amber) – poured straight from the barrel. Weekday ‘Happy Hour’ (6pm to 8pm) spells good-value drinking, as does O’Neil’s mighty 1.8L pitchers of beer (€16/20 before/after 6pm). Beer cocktails (€4 to €9.60) and les chasse-bières (beer chasers; €7.50) are its unusual specialities.

KILÀLI Map    Tearoom

01 43 25 65 64; 3-5 rue des Quatre Vents, 6e; noon-10pm Tue-Sat, 1-9pm Sun; Odéon

Style personified, this Japanese tearoom-cum-art gallery is a peaceful oasis amid shops. Finesse, nobility and other elevated adjectives describe the different green teas served in pottery teapots with matching yunomi (goblets). Ask for a refill of water when you’ve drained the pot.

LE COMPTOIR DES CANNETTES Map    Wine Bar

01 43 26 79 15; 11 rue des Canettes, 6e; noon-2am Tue-Sat, closed Aug; Mabillon

In the biz since 1952, a faithful local following pours into this cellar, a stuffy, atmospheric tribute to downtrodden romanticism complete with red tablecloths, melting candles and nostalgic photos of musicians. The wine is cheap, the regulars incorrigible and on a good night the whole thing spills up the stairs and onto the street.

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MONTPARNASSE

The scene here is far from rocking, but the pace is not slow thanks to the comings and goings of the train station and a trio of legendary cafés-cum-bars-cum-neighbourhood hang-outs.

LE SELECT Map    Café

01 42 22 65 27; 99 blvd du Montparnasse, 6e; 7.30am-2.30am; Vavin

Along with La Coupole and Le Dôme, this café is a Montparnasse institution that has changed little since 1923. Students congregate in the early evening; regulars take over as the night wears on. Tartines made with Poilâne bread (Click here) are a speciality.

CUBANA CAFÉ Map    Cocktail Bar

01 40 46 80 81; 47 rue Vavin, 6e; 11am-3am Sun-Wed, to 5am Thu-Sat; Vavin

This is the perfect place for cocktails and tapas, be it a single dish (€3.70 to €7.10) or a mixed platter (€16) shared among friends, before carrying on to nearby La Coupole. A post-work crowd sinks into the comfy leather armchairs and flops beneath oil paintings of daily life in Cuba.

LE ROSEBUD Map    Cocktail Bar

01 43 35 38 54; 11bis rue Delambre, 14e; 7pm-2am; Edgar Quinet or Vavin

Like the sleigh of that name in Citizen Kane, Rosebud harkens to the past. In this case it’s to the time of the Montparnos (painters and writers who frequented Montparnasse during the neighbourhood’s golden years of the early 20th century). Enjoy an expertly mixed champagne cocktail or whisky sour amid the quiet elegance of polished wood and aged leather.

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FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES

An undisputable day rather than night venue, with government ministries and embassies outweighing drinking venues hands-down, the 7e arrondissement does have a redeeming feature for socialites, in the shape of three very lovely cafés.

CAFÉ DU MUSÉE RODIN Map    Café

01 44 18 61 10; 77 rue de Varenne, 7e; 9.30am-6.45pm Tue-Sun Apr-Sep, to 5pm Tue-Sun Oct-Mar; Varenne

A serene beauty pervades the garden of the Musée Rodin, with the great master’s sculptures popping up among the roses and lime trees that line the pathways. If the weather is fine you can have a drink and a snack at one of the tables hidden behind the trees (garden admission €1).

CAFÉ LE BASILE Map    Café

01 42 22 59 46; 34 rue de Grenelle, 7e; 7am-9pm Mon-Sat; Rue du Bac

Don’t bother looking for a name above this hip student café, framed by expensive designer fashion shops – there isn’t one. Well-worn Formica tables, petrol-blue banquettes and a fine collection of 1950s lights and lampshades keep the sleek crowd out, the retro crowd in. A fabulous find for a chocolate or beer, light lunch or flop between lectures.

CAFÉ THOUMIEUX Map    Café

01 45 51 50 40; 4 rue de la Comète, 7e; noon-2am Mon-Fri, 5pm-2am Sat; La Tour Maubourg

The trendy tapas annexe of Brasserie Thoumieux is always full of well-heeled young people who seem to enjoy the Iberian ambience. Tapas and San Miguel beer set the scene, but perfumed vodka is the house speciality, with no fewer than 40 different types (including chocolate, fig, watermelon and mint tea) to pick from.

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ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES

The av des Champs-Élysées is still a popular place for drinking but the vast majority of venues are terribly expensive and tend to be either tacky tourist traps or exceedingly pretentious lounges. A few nondescript but less flashy pubs can be found in the side streets to the north and south.

The chic quarters around Concorde are not great for finding a classic Parisian café or happening drinking hole, but there are some very memorable, glamorous venues with fantastic décor and, often, a rich history. While not on most Parisians’ regular outing list, they definitely merit at least one visit. Most of the fancy hotels along rue de Rivoli have very classy bars and lounges.

BUDDHA BAR Map    Cocktail Bar

01 53 05 90 00; 8-12 rue Boissy d’Anglas, 8e; noon-2am Sun-Thu, 4pm-3am Fri & Sat; Concorde

Although moving in and out of A-list status as the fickle übercrowd comes and goes, Buddha Bar has made a name for itself with its Zen lounge music CDs and remains a hit – especially with tourists. The décor is simply spectacular, with a two-storey golden Buddha, millions of candles, intimate corners and supremely attitudinous staff. Go for the cocktails (from €16) and Asian-inspired bar snacks.


top picks
CAFÉ TERRACES
Languish lazily on a café terrace like a Parisian and watch the capital enjoy life over an early-evening apéritif at:
 

CRICKETER Map    Pub

01 40 07 01 45; 41 rue des Mathurins, 8e; noon-2am; Madeleine or Havre Caumartin

This self-proclaimed ‘English sports pub’ can stake a claim to authenticity – it was transported lock, stock and barrel from Ipswich. It’s not a happening venue at night, but with Newcastle Brown on tap, salt ’n’ vinegar chips, Brit tabloids, three big screens and quiz night every Tuesday it is as close to Old Blighty as you’ll find on this side of the Channel.

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CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE

The neighbourhood around place de Clichy, traditionally the centre of the ‘have-not’ half of the otherwise very well-heeled 17e, has come into its own in recent years with the development of nearby (and très bobo) Batignolles. Rue des Dames is a particularly rewarding street when in search of a libation or a laugh. There’s also an excellent wine bar and one of our favourite big terrace cafés here.

LUSH BAR Map–5    Bar

01 43 87 49 46; 16 rue des Dames, 17e; 5pm-2am; Place de Clichy

This Clichy post has made a name for itself with a relaxed-but-hip local following and Anglo expats. It has excellent cocktails including killer white Russians, as well as wines and, in true English (or Irish – there are photos of the Emerald Isle on the walls) style, affordable beers. DJs often play on weekends.

BAR À VINS DU CINÉMA DES CINÉASTES Map    Wine Bar

01 53 42 40 34; 7 av de Clichy, 17e; 5.30pm-midnight Tue-Sun; Place de Clichy

This excellent wine bar is seldom filled to capacity, presumably because most people are downstairs, watching a film at the Cinéma des Cinéastes. The selection of wines by the glass, ‘pot’ (a Lyon-inspired carafe measuring 46cL) or bottle is excellent, there is a brief but well-considered menu and the first Sunday of each month hosts a music night starting at 6pm.

LE WEPLER Map    Café

01 45 22 53 24; 14 Place de Clichy, 18e; 8am-1am; Place de Clichy

Though this large café-brasserie founded in 1892 is celebrated for its oysters, we go across the road to Charlot, Roi des Coquillages for our bivalves and to the Wepler to sit in the large covered terrace and enjoy the hubbub and scenery of Place de Clichy. Great people-watching; friendly service.

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OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS

At times Haussmann’s windswept boulevards can be traffic-clogged and as a result feel unwelcoming, but some excellent bars stand out along the main axes and in the side streets. There are some interesting bars near the Bourse (stock exchange) and Opéra, catering mainly to the trader/corporate crowds. Another nocturnal niche is rue Montmartre in the Sentier district, with a few trendy bars and clubs.

O’SULLIVAN’S Map    Pub

01 40 26 73 41; 1 blvd Montmartre, 2e; 10am-5am Sun-Thu, to 7am Fri & Sat; Grands Boulevards

From the outside this looks like just another supermarket-chain Irish pub, but O’Sullivan’s is so much more. It’s hugely popular thanks to its prominent location and friendly vibe. The spacious surrounds are always packed for big sporting events, plus concerts (jazz, rock, pop, Irish music) on Thursdays and DJs at the weekend. Different available areas such as the 1st floor and the outdoor terrace mean you can (almost) always find a tranquil place to chat.

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GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE

Canal St-Martin offers a trendy bohemian atmosphere and wonderful summer nights (and days) in casual canal-side cafés. The proliferation of bars and cafés in the 10e is gradually joining up this area with Belleville and Ménilmontant (Click here). There are also a few decent bars around Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est.

DE LA VILLE CAFÉ Map    Bar

01 48 24 48 09; 34 blvd de Bonne Nouvelle, 10e; 11am-2.30am; Bonne Nouvelle

Another success story from the founders of Café Charbon, this grand erstwhile brothel has an alluring, slightly confused mix of restored history (original mosaic tiles, distressed walls) and modern design. Between the high-ceilinged restaurant, the extensive terrace and the bar/lounge areas, you’re sure to find your niche somewhere. DJs play most nights, making it a quality ‘before’ venue for the nearby Rex Club.

MOTOWN BAR Map    Bar

01 46 07 09 79; 81-83 blvd de Strasbourg, 10e; closed 1am-6pm Tue & Wed; Gare de l’Est

This almost 24-hour place – it’s open continuously except for two early-morning gaps at the start of the week – is the venue of choice in the wee hours when you have a thirst and a few bob but, alas, no friends. You can drink at almost any time of day, and eat (mains €7.50 to €11.50) until 11pm; live singers croon on certain nights. There’s a warm and festive feel, and the staff and the patrons are friendly.

CAFÉ CHÉRI(E) Map    Bar, Café

01 42 02 02 05; 44 blvd de la Villette, 19e; 8am-2am; Belleville

Very reminiscent of Belleville before all the changes, this successful bar-café has a lively, gritty, art-chic crowd and electro DJs Thursday to Saturday. An imaginative, colourful bar with its signature red lighting, infamous mojitos and caiparinhas and commitment to quality tunes, it’s become everyone’s chéri(e) (darling) and the first port of call on a night out in this part of town.

CHEZ PRUNE Map    Bar, Café

01 42 41 30 47; 71 quai de Valmy, 10e; 8am-2am Mon-Sat, 10am-2am Sun; République

This Soho-boho café put Canal St-Martin on the map. It’s a classic Parisian bar-café, nicely rough around the edges, with good vibes – a terrace opposite the Canal St-Martin open in summer and a cosy atmosphere in winter. Brunch on Sundays (noon to 4pm) is popular.

L’ÎLE ENCHANTÉE Map    Bar, Café

01 42 01 67 99; 65 blvd de la Villette, 19e; 8am-2am Mon-Fri, 6pm-2am Sat & Sun; Belleville

In a similar vein to Café Chéri(e), this ‘Enchanted Island’ in Belleville has become a popular stop-off for the before-clubbing crowd. With its colourful façade, huge windows and large, modern interior, it’s a relaxed restaurant and terrace by day that turns electric at nightfall from Thursday to Saturday, with quality DJs mixing most evenings.

CAFÉ LE PANIER Map    Café

01 42 01 38 18; 32 place Ste-Marthe, 10e; 11am-2am Tue-Sun May-Sep, 4pm-2am Mon-Sat & 10am-2am Sun Oct-Apr; Belleville

Out in the western flanks of Belleville, it’s easy to miss the rue Ste-Marthe, filled with colourful restaurants and bars exerting a dilapidated, funky charm. At the top, literally and figuratively, is this splendid and convivial café, a bit of Marseille in Paris, with an enormous terrace on sheltered place Ste-Marthe. It’s brilliant for warm afternoons, casual meals (mains €9.50 to €16.50) and an extended apéritif.

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MÉNILMONTANT & BELLEVILLE

Rue Oberkampf is the essential hub of the Ménilmontant bar crawl, springing from a few cafés to being the epicentre of a vibrant, rapidly expanding bar scene. But as Oberkampf commercialises, the arty/edgy crowd has been moving steadily outwards, through cosmopolitan Belleville and towards La Villette (Click here).

AU PETIT GARAGE Map    Bar

01 48 07 08 12; 63 rue Jean-Pierre-Timbaud, 11e; 6pm-2am; Parmentier.

Just about the last ‘neighbourhood’ bar in the quartier, the ‘Little Garage’ attracts local custom (think grease monkeys and others with cleaner hands) with its rock ’n’ roll, laid-back staff and rough-and-ready décor. Definitely worth a visit.

CANNIBALE CAFÉ Map    Bar

01 49 29 95 59; 93 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; 8am-2am Mon-Fri, 9am-2am Sat & Sun; Couronnes

In fact ‘Cannibal Café’ couldn’t be more welcoming, with its grand rococo-style bar topped with worn zinc, decrepit mirrors, peeling mouldings, wood panelling, Formica tables and red leatherette bench seats. It’s a laid-back, almost frayed alternative to the groovy pubs and bars of rue Oberkampf and the perfect place to linger over a coffee or grab a quick beer at the bar. There’s an extensive menu with popular breakfasts (€9 to €12), and brunch (served between noon and 4pm on the weekend) is €18. Oh, and the name of this place isn’t suggesting that you bring condiments if you miss the mealtimes; it comes from a Dada manifesto and a painting by Goya.

LA CARAVANE Map    Bar

01 49 23 01 86; 35 rue de la Fontaine au Roi, 11e; 11am-2am Mon-Fri, 5pm-2am Sat & Sun; Goncourt

This funky, animated bar is a little jewel tucked away between République and Oberkampf; look for the tiny campervan above the door. The bar is surrounded by colourful kitsch furnishings and the people around it and behind it are amiable and relaxed. The kitchen was into a rather odd hybrid cuisine – Thai noodles, Indian bhajis, chèvre chaud – the last time we looked. Stick with the reasonably priced drinks.

CAFÉ CHARBON Map    Bar, Café

01 43 57 55 13; 109 rue Oberkampf, 11e; 9am-2am Sun-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Parmentier

With its postindustrial belle époque ambience, the Charbon was the first of the hip cafés and bars to catch on in Ménilmontant. Now it’s somewhat of a victim of its own success, but it’s always crowded and worth heading to for the distressed décor with high ceilings, chandeliers and perched DJ booth. The food (mains €11 to €18) is good; it’s a popular spot for brunch between noon and 3pm on Sundays.

ON CHERCHE ENCORE Map    Bar, Café

01 49 20 79 56; 2 rue des Goncourt, 11e; 11am-4pm Mon, to 2am Tue-Fri, noon-2am Sat; Goncourt

This relaxed, modern, loft-style bar-café with the less-than-inspired name of ‘We’re Still Looking’, is trying to do it all and succeeding. It’s committed to serving quality food and wines at reasonable prices; the Saturday brunch from noon to 4pm is one of the best around. It is also intent on providing quality tunes (electro, house and funk) from Thursday to Saturday, which leads to some quality mingling. The corner terrace is positioned for all-afternoon sun and is worth pouncing on.

AU CHAT NOIR Map    Café

01 48 06 98 22; 76 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 10e; 10am-2am Sun-Thu, 11am-2am Fri & Sat; Parmentier

Slightly removed from the overexcitement of Oberkampf and with a slightly older crowd, this attractive corner café with high ceilings and a long, wooden bar is a happening but relaxed drinking space at night. It’s also a great café in which to hang out or read during the day. Downstairs is more animated, with occasional live concerts.

L’AUTRE CAFÉ Map    Café

01 40 21 03 07; 62 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; 8am-2am; Parmentier

A young mixed crowd of locals, artists and party-goers remains faithful to this quality café with its long bar, spacious seating areas, relaxed environment, reasonable prices and exhibition openings. It’s a great place to do a little work, and there is a small lounge upstairs.

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GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY

Once a desert when it came to drinking and carousing, Bercy is an increasingly happening place that draws in crowds for its cinemas and wine bars, though it’s a somewhat artificially created scene. Gare de Lyon and Nation are close to drinking spots in Bastille, and to the eastern side of the 11e (opposite).

BARRIO LATINO Map    Bar

01 55 78 84 75; 46-48 rue du Faubourg St-Antoine, 11e; 11am-2am Sun-Thu, to 3am Fri & Sat; Bastille

Still squeezing the salsa theme for all that it’s worth, this enormous bar-restaurant with serious dancing – distantly related to Buddha Bar – is spread over three highly impressive floors. It attracts Latinos, Latino wannabes and Latino wannahaves. The delicious mojitos go down a treat.

LA LIBERTÉ Map    Bar

01 43 72 11 18; 196 rue de Faubourg St-Antoine, 12e; 9am-2am Mon-Fri, 11am-2am Sat & Sun; Faidherbe-Chaligny

A delightfully messy bar infused with the spirit of the ’68 revolution, ‘The Liberty’ does simple meals and wine by day, and is a heaving mix of regulars and drop-ins, raspy-voiced arguments and glasses going clink by night. It’s the kind of place where bobos, artists and old rockers find their common point: a passionate love of drink and talk.

CHAI 33 Map    Wine Bar

01 53 44 01 01; 33 cour St-Émilion, 12e; noon-midnight Sun & Mon, to 1am Tue-Thu, to 2am Fri & Sat; Cour St-Émilion

The converted wine warehouses in Bercy Village house a variety of restaurants and bars, including this enormous wine-oriented concept space with a restaurant, lounge, tasting room and shop. Wine, both French and foreign, is divided into six colour-coded categories: purple is ‘fruity and intense’, green is ‘light and spirited’, yellow is ‘dry and soft’ etc. There are cocktails and decent food here, too, as well as two terraces.

LE VINÉA CAFÉ Map    Wine Bar

01 44 74 09 09; 26-28 cour St-Émilion, 12e; 9am-2am Sun-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; Cour St-Émilion

The anchor tenant – or so it would seem – of the cour St-Émilion, this is a delightful wine bar/restaurant with a lovely terrace to the back facing place des Vins de France. There’s live music some nights and a popular brunch (€23) from noon to 4pm on Sundays.

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13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN

While Chinatown isn’t a hopping spot for bars, the area around the Butte aux Cailles, a kind of molehill southwest of Place d’Italie, has some good options. It is a pretty area that is popular with students and local residents: places in this area tend to have die-hard regulars.

SPUTNIK Map    Bar

01 45 65 19 82; 14 rue de la Butte aux Cailles, 13e; 2pm-2am Mon-Sat, 4pm-midnight Sun; Corvisart or Place d’Italie

This large bar with wi-fi zone and a dozen machines to surf is far more than an internet café. With its buzzing pavement terrace on one of Paris’ hippest streets, Sputnik is a place to be seen. Students love it, particularly between 6pm and 8pm during happy hour.

THE FROG & BRITISH LIBRARY Map    Pub

01 45 84 34 26; 114 av de France, 13e; mains €13.50, lunch menus €14; 7.30am-2am Mon-Fri, noon-2am Sat & Sun; Bibliothèque

A hybrid English pub/French brasserie, this spacious drinking venue around the corner from the Bibliothèque Nationale is propped up by French students who flock here between library visits for apple pie and custard, weekend brunches, potato wedges and cheese nachos washed down with a pint (€4.50). The pick of the drinks list is the six beers brewed on the premises: Dark de Triomphe, Inseine, Parislytic and so on. Pints are €6 or €4.50 at happy hour (6pm to 8pm Monday to Friday). Free wi-fi, live bands, groove and soul DJs, themed party nights. The enormous Frog at Bercy Village (Map; 01 43 40 70 71; 25 cour St-Émilion, 12e; noon-2am; Cour St-Émilion) is just across the river.

TANDEM Map    Wine Bar

01 45 80 38 39; 10 rue de la Butte aux Cailles, 13e; starters €7-8.50, mains €13.50-20; noon-2.30pm & 7.30-11pm Tue-Sat; Corvisart or Place d’Italie

If wine’s your love, make a beeline for this overwhelmingly old-fashioned bar à vins crammed with regulars. The lovechild of two brothers with a fierce oenological passion, Tandem homes in on ‘boutique’ (vins de proprietés) and organic wines as well as those produced by new vignerons (wine-makers). A traditional bistro menu compliments the wine list.

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ALSO RECOMMENDED

Friendly and convivial, Le Merle Moqueur (Map; 11 rue de la Butte aux Cailles, 13e; 5pm-2am; Corvisart) stocks the largest selection of rum punches we’ve seen.

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15E ARRONDISSEMENT

It’s hardly buzzing, but as with every quartier it has a clutch of faithfuls propped up by die-hard regulars.

CHARLIE BIRDY Map    Bar

01 48 28 06 06; www.charliebirdy.com, in French; 1 place Étienne Pernet, 15e; 5pm-2am; Commerce

Love it or hate it, this lounge bar – one of three Parisian Charlie Birdies – is the place to sit back, relax and savour a well-earned apéritif after a hard day’s work. Décor is modern; the place splits into part bar, part red-brick-walled restaurant; and live gospel ’n’ soul makes weekend brunch (€17.50) an upbeat affair.

LES VÉLOS À MOËLLE Map    Wine Bar

01 45 57 28 28; rue Vasco de Gama, 15e; noon-3pm & 7.30-10.30pm Tue-Sat, noon-4pm & 7.30-10.30pm Sun; Lourmel

Geared as much towards energetic cyclists as wine lovers who are happy to loll at the bar, this wine bar rents out bikes equipped with gourmet picnic hampers (€32). Warming the cockles with a vin chaud (mulled wine) and chunk of pain d’épice (honey spiced bread) around a wine-barrel-turned-table on the pavement outside is a winter delight. Should hunger pains strike, its lunchtime formule à buffet (€22.50) is excellent value.

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MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE

Crowded around the hill side of Montmartre you’ll find an utterly eclectic selection of places to drink. This area offers a strange medley of tourist-trap chanson bars at Sacré Cœur, sleazy sex-shop venues at Pigalle, African outposts at Château Rouge and picturesque Parisian spots around Abbesses.

LA FOURMI Map    Bar

01 42 64 70 35; 74 rue des Martyrs, 18e; 8am-2am Mon-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat, 10am-2am Sun; Pigalle

A Pigalle stayer, ‘The Ant’ hits the mark with its lively yet unpretentious atmosphere. The décor is hip but not overwhelming, the zinc bar is long and inviting and the people are laid-back. The music is mostly rock – quality, well-known tunes that get you going while leaving space in the airways for the rise and fall of unbridled conversation. If you’re hungry, its plat du jour costs €9.


CAPITAL WINE TASTING
Sorting the good wines from the inferior ones when it comes to serious wine-tasting in Paris is no mean feat. Dozens of courses exist, but few come recommended.
One man in the capital who really knows his stuff is sommelier Juan Sánchez, who holds talks and dégustations (tastings) most Saturday evenings with independent French wine growers he buys from at his wine shop La Dernier Goutte in St-Germain des Prés. Le Pré Verre and Tandem (opposite) are informal, atmospheric places to taste interesting wines by small producers over a meal.
Oenophiles aspiring to headier heights should aim for one of the sporadic tastings held in Paris’ oldest wine shop, Caves Augé (Map; 01 45 22 16 97; 116 blvd Haussmann, 8e; St-Augustin), in business since 1850. On the same street, one of the world’s foremost sommeliers, Philippe Faure-Brac, pairs food and wine to perfection for a price at Bistrot du Sommelier. Cellar tastings with wine growers pre-empt Friday’s brilliantly matched three-/five-course lunch/dinner (€45/70).
To learn how to sort the wheat from the chaff, embark on a wine-tasting course at the highly esteemed Centre de Dégustation Jacques Vivet (Map; 01 43 25 96 30, 06 07 28 61 85; 48 rue de Vaugirard, 6e; Luxembourg), opposite Jardin de Luxembourg. As well as one-day tasting courses (€194) and introductory wine courses (in English and French), it runs advanced cours d’oeonologie (in French only) focusing on several wines from one appellation or grape variety.

LE DÉPANNEUR Map     Bar

01 44 53 03 78; 27 rue Pierre Fontaine, 9e; 10am-2am Mon-Thu, 24hr Fri-Sun; Blanche

‘The Repairman’, an American diner-cum-bar with postmodern frills and almost 24-hour service, has plenty of tequila and fancy cocktails (€7.50). There are DJs after 11pm from Thursday to Saturday. After 3am or 4am at the weekend most clients have just come out of the clubs. Be on guard.

LE SANCERRE Map    Bar

01 42 58 08 20; 35 rue des Abbesses, 18e; 7am-2am; Abbesses

Le Sancerre is a popular, rather brash bistro-cum-bar that’s often crowded to capacity in the evening, especially on Saturdays. Scruffy yet attractive with its classic bistro décor and hip local mood, it has a prized terrace that gets the late morning sun. It serves bistro food and breakfasts from 11.30am to 11.30pm. Happy hour is 5.30pm to 8pm.

OLYMPIC CAFÉ Map    Bar

01 42 52 29 93; 20 rue Léon, 18e; 7pm-2am Tue-Sat; Château Rouge

This community bar in the Goutte d’Or neighbourhood is full of surprises. From plays and film screenings to concerts of Guinean griot, Balkan folk, Cameroon hip-hop and so on in the basement (tickets €5 to €7), this is a breeding ground for creative young people bursting with original ideas. The monthly program available at the bar also includes events (tickets adult/concession €15/10) at the Lavoir Moderne Parisien (Map; 01 42 52 09 14; 35 rue Léon, 18e), another springboard for young talent down the road.

CHÀO BÀ CAFÉ Map    Café

01 46 06 72 90; 22 blvd de Clichy, 18e; 8.30am-2am Sun-Wed, to 4am Thu, to 5am Fri & Sat; Pigalle

This comfortable café-restaurant on two levels is decorated in colonial Oriental style with huge plants, ceiling fans and bamboo chairs. It serves great cocktails (from €9.50) in goldfish-bowl-sized glasses, and somewhat bland Franco-Vietnamese fusion food. And BTW: chào bà means bonjour madame in Vietnamese.

LE PROGRÈS Map    Café

01 42 64 07 37; 7 rue des Trois Frères, 18e; 9am-2am; Abbesses

A real live café du quartier perched in the heart of Abbesses, ‘The Progress’ occupies a corner site with huge windows and simple seating and attracts a relaxed mix of local artists, shop staff, writers and hangers-on. It’s great for convivial evenings, with DJs and bands some nights, but, it’s also a good place to come for inexpensive meals and daytime coffees.

ICE KUBE Map    Cocktail Bar

01 42 05 20 00; 1-5 passage Ruelle, 18e; 7pm-1.30am Wed-Sat, 2-11pm Sun; La Chapelle

Every city worth its, err, salt, has got to have an ice bar nowadays, and this temple de glace (ice temple) on the first floor of the très boutique Kube Hôtel is the French capital’s first. The temperature is still set at -20°C, there are down jackets on loan and the bar is a shimmering block of carved ice. But the rules have changed. It’s no longer all the vodka you can dispatch in 30 minutes for €38, but a far less cool four vodka cocktails for the same.

CORCORAN’S CLICHY Map    Pub

01 42 23 00 30; 110 blvd de Clichy, 18e; 11.30am-5am; Blanche

OK, so it’s just another Irish pub… But with the entrance to the Cimetière de Montmartre just paces away, Corcoran’s is a great place to stop off on your way to/from paying obeisance to Zola or Stendhal. And it’s at the start of a quiet cul-de-sac.


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NIGHTLIFE & THE ARTS


CABARET
CLUBBING
COMEDY
MUSIC
    ROCK, POP & INDIE
    CLASSICAL
    JAZZ & BLUES
    WORLD & LATINO
    FRENCH CHANSONS
DANCE
FILM
OPERA
THEATRE



top picks
 






What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



A night out in Paris can mean anything from swilling champagne on the Champs-Elysées to opening unmarked doorways in search of a new club in the banlieues (suburbs) or dancing on tables till dawn in a mad-loud DJ bar (Click here). From jazz cellar to comic theatre, garage beat to go-go dancer, world-class art gallery to avant-garde artist squat, this is the capital of savoir-vivre, with spectacular entertainment to suit every budget, every taste.

The French capital holds a firm place on the touring circuit of the world’s finest artists and boasts dozens of historic and/or legendary concert venues: seeing a performance here is a treat. French and international opera, ballet and theatre companies (not to mention cabaret’s incorrigible cancan dancers) take to the stage in a clutch of venues of mythical proportion – the Palais Garnier, Comédie Française and the Moulin Rouge included. Away from the bright lights and media glare, a flurry of young, passionate, highly creative musicians, theatre aficionados and artists make the city’s fascinating fringe art scene what it is.

The film-lover’s ultimate city, Paris provides the best seat in the house to catch new flicks, avant-garde cinema and priceless classics. Its inhabitants are film fetishists par excellence, with wonderful movie theatres – 1930s Chinese pagoda to Seine-side cutting-edge shoebox – to prove it.

So go out. Delve into the Parisian night.

Information & Listings

‘Theatre’, ‘Kids’, ‘Outings & Leisure’, ‘Cinema’, ‘Restaurants’, ‘Festivals’, ‘Music’, ‘The Arts’ and ‘Paris by Nights’ are the key headings in the index of Pariscope (€0.40), the capital’s primary weekly listings guide published every Wednesday. Its 230-odd pages – B&W with the odd splash of colour – are almost too packed with information, but everything you need to know about what’s on and happening is there. Many find Paris’ other weekly listings bible, L’Officiel des Spectacles (€0.35), also out on Wednesday, easier to handle. Buy both (in French only) at any newsstand.

Rock, jazz, world and chanson (song) are among the many genres covered by Les Inrockuptibles (www.lesinrocks.com, in French; €3), a national music mag with a strong Paris focus and great soiree and concert listings.

Of the surfeit of various French-language freebies, easy to pick up on the street and great for a gander between metro stops, A nous Paris (www.anous.fr/paris, in French) is among the most informed and posts its contents online; click ‘Lieux Branchés’ (Trendsetters) to find in-vogue bars, clubs and restaurants of the moment. Pocket-sized booklet LYLO (short for Les Yeux, Les Oreilles, meaning ‘eyes and ears’), freely available at bars and cafés, is a fortnightly lowdown on the live music, concert and clubbing scene and runs an information line ( 0 892 68 59 56; www.lylo.fr, in French). Flyers, schedules and programmes for cultural events float around the ticket office areas in Fnac (below).

Electronic links finely tuned to the music, clubbing, theatre scene etc right now are listed in the respective sections of this chapter.


DIGITAL DISCOUNT TICKETING
 

Tickets & Reservations

Buy tickets for concerts, theatre performances and other cultural events at billeteries (ticket offices) in Fnac (rhymes with ‘snack’) and Virgin Megastore. Both accept reservations by phone and the internet, and most credit cards. Tickets can’t usually be returned or exchanged unless a performance is cancelled.

Some Fnac ( 0 892 68 36 22; www.fnacspectacles.com, in French) outlets:

 
  • Bastille (Map; 01 43 42 04 04; 4 place de la Bastille, 12e; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat; Bastille)
  • Champs-Élysées (Map; 01 53 53 64 64; 74 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 10am-midnight Mon-Sat, noon-midnight Sun; Franklin D Roosevelt)
  • Étoile (Map; 01 44 09 18 00; 26-30 av des Ternes, 17e; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Sat; Ternes)
  • Forum des Halles (Map; 01 40 41 40 00; Forum des Halles shopping centre, level 3, 1-7 rue Pierre Lescot, 1er; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Châtelet Les Halles)
  • Montparnasse (Map; 01 49 54 30 00; 136 rue de Rennes, 6e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; St-Placide)
  • St-Lazare (Map; 01 55 31 20 00; 109 rue St-Lazare, 9e; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Wed & Sat, to 8.30pm Thu & Fri; St-Lazare).
  • Virgin Megastore ( 08 25 12 91 39; www.virginmega.fr, in French) branches:
  • Barbès (Map; 01 56 55 53 70; 15 blvd Barbès, 18e; 10am-9pm Mon-Sat; Barbès Rochechouart)
  • Champs-Élysées (Map; 01 49 53 50 00; 52-60 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 10am-midnight Mon-Sat, noon-midnight Sun; Franklin D Roosevelt)
  • Galerie du Carrousel du Louvre (Map; 01 44 50 03 10; 99 rue de Rivoli, 1er; 10am-8pm Mon & Tue, to 9pm Wed-Sun; Palais Royal Musée du Louvre)
  • Gare Montparnasse (Map; place Raoul Dautry, 14e; 7am-8.30pm Mon-Thu, to 9pm Fri, 8am-8pm Sat; Montparnasse Bienvenüe)

Other ticketing box offices:

 
  • Agence Marivaux (Map; 01 42 97 46 70; 7 rue de Marivaux, 2e; 11.30am-7.30pm Mon-Fri, noon-4pm Sat; Richelieu Drouot) Paris’ oldest ticket agency, just opposite the Opéra Comique.
  • Agence Perrossier & SOS Théâtres (Map; 01 42 60 58 31, 01 44 77 88 55; www.agencedetheatresdeparis.fr; 6 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine)

Discount Tickets

Come the day of a performance, snag a half-price ticket for the ballet, theatre, opera etc at discount-ticket outlet Kiosque Théâtre Madeleine (Map; opp 15 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 12.30-8pm Tue-Sat, to 4pm Sun; Madeleine) or Kiosque Théâtre Montparnasse (Map; Parvis Montparnasse, 15e; 12.30-8pm Tue-Sat, to 4pm Sun; Montparnasse Bienvenüe).

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CABARET

Parisians don’t tend to watch the city’s risqué cabaret revues – tourists do. Times and prices for the dazzling, pseudo-bohemian productions starring women in two beads and a feather (or was that two feathers and a bead?) vary: shows often begin at 7pm or 7.30pm, 8.30pm or 9pm, or 11pm, and some venues have matinées and additional evening shows at the weekend. Tickets cost anything from €65 to €120 per person (€140 to €400 with swish dinner and champagne). All venues sell tickets online.


top picks
FREE SHOWS
Paris’ eclectic gaggle of clowns, acrobats, Rollerbladers, buskers and other street entertainers can be highly entertaining and costs substantially less than a theatre ticket (€1 in the hat is a sweet gesture). Our favourite spots for a good show:
 
  • Place Georges Pompidou, 4e (Map) The huge square in front of the Centre Pompidou.
  • Place Jean du Bellay, 1er (Map) Musicians and fire-eaters near the Fontaine des Innocents.
  • Pont St-Louis, 4e (Map) The bridge linking Paris’ two islands.
  • Pont au Double, 4e (Map) The pedestrian bridge linking Notre Dame with the Left Bank.
  • Palais de Tokyo & Musée d’Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, 16e Venue of choice for the city’s most acrobatic inline skaters.
  • Parc de la Villette, 19e African drummers at the weekend.
  • Metro (Map) Any time on any line – even when you’re not in the mood.

CRAZY HORSE Map

01 47 23 32 32; www.lecrazyhorseparis.com; 12 av George V, 8e; Alma Marceau

This popular cabaret, whose dressing (or, rather, undressing) rooms were featured in Woody Allen’s film What’s New Pussycat? (1965), now promotes fine art – abstract 1960s patterns as they appear superimposed on the female nude form.

LE LIDO DE PARIS Map

01 40 76 56 10; www.lido.fr; 116bis av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; George V

Founded at the close of WWII, this gets top marks for its sets and the lavish costumes of its 70 artistes, including the famed Bluebell Girls and now the Lido Boy Dancers.

MOULIN ROUGE Map

01 53 09 82 82; www.moulinrouge.fr; 82 blvd de Clichy, 18e; Blanche

Ooh la la… What is probably Paris’ most celebrated cabaret was founded in 1889 and its dancers appeared in the celebrated posters by Toulouse-Lautrec. It sits under its trademark red windmill (actually a 1925 replica of the 19th-century original) and attracts viewers and voyeurs by the busload.

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CLUBBING

Paris is not London, Berlin or New York when it comes to clubbing, and hardcore clubbers from other European capitals might be surprised by the pick of Paris clubs. Lacking a mainstream scene, clubbing here tends to be underground and extremely mobile, making blogs, forums and websites (boxed text) the savviest means of keeping apace with what’s happening (loads of clubs/events are on MySpace). The best DJs and their followings have short stints in a certain venue before moving on, and the scene’s hippest soirées clubbing (clubbing events) float between a clutch of venues – including the city’s many dance-driven bars (Click here).

But the beat is strong. Electronic music is of particularly high quality in Paris’ clubs, with some excellent local house and techno. Funk and groove have given the whimsical predominance of dark minimal sounds a good pounding, and the Latin scene is huge; salsa dancing and Latino music nights pack out plenty of clubs. R ‘n’ B and hip-hop pickings are decent, if less represented than in, say, London.

Club admission costs anything from €5 to €20 and often includes a drink; admission is usually cheaper before 1am and men can’t always get in unaccompanied by a woman. Drink prices start at around €6 for a beer and €8 for amixed drink or cocktail, but often cost more.

CITHÉA NOVA Map

01 40 21 70 95; www.citheanova.com, in French; 112 rue Oberkampf, 11e; admission free; 9am-5am Sun-Thu, 10pm-6am Fri & Sat; Parmentier or Ménilmontant

Beefing up the kitchen (it does all meals and brunch at the weekend from 11am to 4pm) and sticking ‘new’ at the end of your name doesn’t always work when times are hard, But these guys have done it and what was a pub-meets-concert-hall with quality bands is now a stylish resto-bar with same. Concerts usually run from 10.30pm, with DJs from 1am on Wednesday to Saturday.


DIGITAL CLUBBING
Track tomorrow’s hot ’n’ happening soirée with these finger-on-the-pulse Parisian nightlife links (in French).
 

FOLIE’S PIGALLE Map

01 48 78 55 25; www.folies-pigalle.com; 11 place Pigalle, 9e; admission €7-20; midnight-dawn Mon-Thu, to noon Fri & Sat, 6pm-dawn; Pigalle

Folie’s Pigalle is a heaving place with a mixed gay and straight crowd that is great for cruising from the balcony above the dance floor. There are theme nights and concerts (usually at 2am) throughout the week. Sunday evening is the ‘Original Gay Tea Party’, followed by the after ‘La Grande Soirée Trans’, Paris’ only transsexual theme night, with R ’n’ B, dance, techno and house. It’s Latino night on Monday.

LA DAME DE CANTON Map

01 53 61 08 49, 06 10 41 02 29; www.damecanton.com, in French; opp 11 quai François Mauriac, 13e; admission incl 1 drink €10; 7pm-2am Tue-Thu, to dawn Fri & Sat; Quai de la Gare or Bibliothèque

This floating boîte (club) aboard a three-masted Chinese junk with a couple of world voyages under its belt is moored opposite the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. Called Cabaret Pirate and Guinguette Pirate in previous lives, it re-adopted its maiden name – ‘The Lady from Canton’ – in 2008 to mark its 30th birthday. Concerts (8.30pm) range from pop and indie to electro, hip-hop, reggae and rock; afterwards, DJs keep the young crowd moving.

LA FAVELA CHIC Map

01 40 21 38 14; www.favelachic.com, in French; 18 rue du Faubourg du Temple, 10e; admission free-€10; 8pm-2am Tue-Thu, to 4am Fri & Sat; République

It starts as a chic, convivial restaurant (open for lunch and dinner to 11pm) and gives way to caipirinha- and mojito-fuelled bumping, grinding, flirting and dancing – mostly on the long tables. The music is traditionally bossa nova, samba, baile (dance) funk and Brazilian pop, and it can get very crowded and hot.


CLUBBING IN PARIS: BEFORE, AFTER & D’AFTER
Seasoned Parisian clubbers, who tend to have a finely tuned sense of the absurd, split their night into three parts. First, la before – drinks in a bar that has a DJ playing (loads listed in the Drinking chapter, Click here). Second, they head to a club for la soirée, which rarely kicks off before 1am or 2am. When the party continues (or begins) at around 5am and goes until midday, it’s the third in the trio – l’after. Invariably, though, given the lack of any clear-cut distinction between Parisian bars and clubs, the before and after can easily blend into one without any real ‘during’. ‘After d’afters’, meanwhile, kicks off in bars and clubs on Sunday afternoons and evenings, with a mix of strung-out hardcore clubbers pressing on amid less-mad socialites out for a party that doesn’t take place in the middle of the night.

LE BALAJO Map

01 47 00 07 87; www.balajo.fr, in French; 9 rue de Lappe, 11e; admission €12-18; 10pm-2am Tue & Thu, 9pm-2am Wed, 11pm-5am Fri & Sat, 3-7.30pm Sun; Bastille

A mainstay of Parisian nightlife since 1936, this ancient ballroom is devoted to salsa classes and Latino music during the week. Weekends see DJs spinning a very mixed bag of rock, disco, funk, R ’n’ B and house. While a bit lower-shelf these days, it scores a mention for its historical value and its old-fashioned musette (accordion music) gigs on Sundays: waltz, tango and cha-cha for aficionados of retro tea-dancing.

LE BATOFAR Map

01 53 16 70 30; www.batofar.org, in French; opp 11 quai François Mauriac, 13e; admission free-€15; 9pm-midnight Mon & Tue, to 4am or later Wed-Sun; Quai de la Gare or Bibliothèque

This incongruous, much-loved, red-metal tugboat has a rooftop bar that’s great in summer, while the club underneath provides memorable underwater acoustics between its metal walls and portholes. Le Batofar is known for its edgy, experimental music policy and live performances, mostly electro-oriented but also incorporating hip-hop, new wave, rock, punk or jazz. Sometimes it doesn’t open till 10pm.

LE DIVAN DU MONDE Map

01 42 52 02 46; www.divandumonde.com; 75 rue des Martyrs, 18e; admission free-€12; 7pm-3am Tue-Thu, to 6am Fri & Sat; Pigalle

Take some cinematographic events, Gypsy gatherings, nouvelles chansons françaises (new French songs). Add in soul/funk fiestas, air-guitar face-offs and rock parties of the Arctic Monkeys/Killers/Libertines persuasion and stir with an Amy Winehouse swizzle stick. You may now be getting some idea of the inventive, open-minded approach at this excellent cross-cultural venue in Pigalle.

LE DJOON Map

01 45 70 83 49; www.djoon.fr, in French; 22-24 blvd Vincent Auriol, 13e; admission €5-20; 7pm-midnight Thu, 11.30pm-5am or 6am Fri & Sat, 6pm-midnight Sun; Quai de la Gare

Something of a new kid on the block in an area becoming increasingly known for its cutting-edge venues, this urbanite, New York–inspired loft club and restaurant is rapidly carving out a name for itself as a super-stylish weekend venue for soul, funk, deep house, garage and disco, courtesy of different visiting DJs. Thursday and Sunday evenings are tamer but still 100% DJ-fed dance. Look for the striking glass-and-steel façade.

LE NOUVEAU CASINO Map

01 43 57 57 40; www.nouveaucasino.net, in French; 109 rue Oberkampf, 11e; club admission €5-10, concerts €15-22; 7.30pm or midnight to 2am or 5am Tue-Sun; Parmentier

This club/concert annexe of the Café Charbon has made a name for itself amid the bars of Oberkampf with its live music concerts (Tuesday to Thursday and Sunday) and top club nights such as Jockey Club at the weekend. Electro, pop, deep House, rock – the programme is eclectic, underground and always up to the minute.

LE REDLIGHT Map

01 42 79 94 53; www.enfer.fr, in French; 34 rue du Départ, 14e; admission €12-20; 11pm or midnight to 5am or 6am Sat & Sun; Montparnasse Bienvenüe

It seems that this underground (literally) venue beneath Tour Montparnasse, fittingly called l’enfer (hell) in a previous life, will never perish. Up there among Paris’ busiest house, techno and electro clubs, its podiums get packed out with a young, dance-mad crowd well past dawn. French Kiss ‘after’ parties often kick off at 6am. Huge and laser-lit, its hours vary depending on the soirée – see its website for flyers – and admission is often half-price before 1am.


top picks
CLUBS
 
  • Point Éphemère (right)
  • Le Rex Club (below)
  • Social Club (opposite)
  • Les Bains Douches (right)
  • Le Batofar
  • Le Slow Club (below)

LE REX CLUB Map

01 42 36 10 96, www.rexclub.com, in French; 5 blvd Poissonnière, 2e; admission free-€15; 11.30pm-6am Wed-Sat; Bonne Nouvelle

The Rex reigns majestic in the house and techno scene, always has and probably always will. The new(ish) sound system is impeccable but getting in is more a question of lining up than looking right. Friday nights are a techno institution in Paris; after all, this is the old stomping ground of pioneer Laurent Garnier.

LE SLOW CLUB Map

01 42 33 84 30; 130 rue de Rivoli, 1er; admission €9-13; 10pm-3am Tue & Thu, to 4am Fri-Sun; Châtelet

Unpretentious dance and jazz club (concerts from 10pm at the weekend) housed in a deep cellar once used to ripen bananas imported from the Caribbean. It attracts a very mixed-age crowd and is as much an institution as a club. The music varies from night to night but includes jazz, boogie, bebop, swing and reggae.

LE WAGG Map

01 55 42 22 00; www.wagg.fr, in French; 62 rue Mazarine, 6e; admission incl 1 drink Fri & Sat €12, Sun €12, before/after midnight Thu free/€10; 11pm-6am Thu-Sat, 3pm-midnight Sun; Odéon

The Wagg is a UK-style Conran club (associated with the popular Fabric in London), beautifully dressed in slick fixtures and contemporary design, but with a somewhat stifled vibe. Last time we looked it had been taken over by the salsa craze – indeed, it opens early on Sunday to host a two-hour salsa class followed by une soirée 100% cubaine. Find event flyers posted on the blog (www.blogalcazar.fr) of the neighbouring Conran restaurant.

LES BAINS DOUCHES Map

01 48 87 01 80; www.lesbainsdouches.net, in French; 7 rue du Bourg l’Abbé, 3e; admission €20; 11pm-5am Wed-Sun; Étienne Marcel

Housed in a refitted old Turkish hammam, this darling of the 1990s has returned with a vengeance and is as elegant a place as you’re going to find in the Marais. Once famous for its glamorous clientele and impassable door complete with blocking limo, it has sought to shake off its inaccessible image with a new mix of theme nights, Sunday morning ‘afters’ and gay soirees.

PENICHE EL ALAMEIN Map

01 45 86 41 60; http://elalamein.free.fr, in French; opp 11 quai François Mauriac, 13e; admission €8; 7pm-2am Sep-Jun; Quai de la Gare or Bibliothèque

The third in the trendy trio afloat opposite the library, this deep-purple boat is strung with terracotta pots of flowers from head to toe, making it a lovely spot on the Seine to sip away summer evenings. Sit amid flowering tulips and enjoy live bands from 9pm; flyers are stuck on the lamppost in front. Its sound – less hectic than its next-door neighbours, hence the older crowd – embraces jazz, world and Piaf-style chansons françaises (French songs) of 1930s Paris.

POINT ÉPHEMÈRE Map

01 40 34 02 48; www.pointephemere.org; 200 quai de Valmy, 10e; admission free-€14; 10am-2pm; Louis Blanc

A relatively new arrival by the Canal St-Martin, with some of the best electronic music nights in town. Once this self-proclaimed ‘centre for dynamic artists’ gets in gear, ‘on y danse, on danse’ (you’ll dance your arse off). Just try to get there before everyone pours out of the surrounding canal-side bars and café-bars at 2am.

QUEEN Map

01 53 89 08 90; www.queen.fr; 102 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; admission €15-20; 11pm-Sun-Thu, midnight-8am Fri & Sat; George V

Once the king (as it were) of gay discos in Paris, Le Queen now reigns supreme with a very mixed crowd, though it still has a mostly gay Disco Queen on Monday. While right on the Champs-Élysées, it’s not as difficult to get into as it used to be – and not nearly as inaccessible as most of the nearby clubs. There’s a festive atmosphere and mix of music with lots of house and electro.

SOCIAL CLUB Map

01 40 28 05 55; www.myspace.com/parissocialclub; 142 rue Montmartre, 2e; admission free-€20; 11pm-3am Wed & Sun, to 6am Thu-Sat; Grands Boulevards

Known as the Triptyque till the end of 2007, this vast and very popular club is set up in three stonewalled underground rooms and fills somewhat of a gap in inner-city clubbing. Musically it’s on to it, with a serious sound system offering electro, hip-hop and funk, as well as jazz and live acts.

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COMEDY

Surprising to some perhaps, Parisians do like to laugh, and the capital is not short of comedy clubs, where comedians such as Bourvil, Fernandel, Bernard Blier, Louis de Funès, Francis Blanche, Jean Poiret, Michel Serrault, Smaïn and the duo Elie Kakou and Guy Bedos have enjoyed enormous popularity over the years. The ‘one-man show’ (say it with a French accent) is increasingly popular, while English-language comedy is a growing scene.

An outfit called Laughing & Music Matters ( 01 53 19 98 88; www.anythingmatters.com; adult/student €20/15), with no fixed address, presents some of the best English-language laugh-fests in town, with both local and imported talent (last seen: Jools Holland from the UK). It usually puts on shows at La Java but also at Espace Jemmapes (Map; 01 48 03 33 22; www.jemmapes.com, in French; 116 quai de Jemmapes, 10e; République). See the website for details.

POINT VIRGULE Map

01 42 78 67 03; www.lepointvirgule.com, in French; 7 rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; 1/2/3 shows adult €17/29/36, per show student except Sat €13; Hôtel de Ville

This tiny and convivial comedy spot in the Marais has been going strong for well over five decades. It offers café-theatre at its best – stand-up comics, performance artists, musical acts. The quality is variable, but it’s great fun and the place has a reputation for discovering new talent. There are three or four shows daily, usually at 7pm, 8pm, 9.15pm and 10.15pm.

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MUSIC

Music thrives in cosmopolitan Paris, a first-class stage for classical music and big-name rock, pop and independent acts, not to mention world-renowned jazz. A musical culture deeply influenced by rich immigration, vibrant subcultures and an open-minded public make it a fervent breeding ground for experimental music: Paris-bred world music, especially from Africa and South America, is renowned. As with the hybrid drinking–clubbing scene, bars Click here are as much a space to revel in these sounds as specific music venues.

Festivals for just about every music genre going ensure that everyone gets to listen in; to check what’s on, Click here and Click here. Street music is a constant in this busker-merry city Click here, summer adding a soul-stirring string of open-air concerts along the Seine and in city parks to the year-round hum of accordion players on the metro and amateur opera singers around the Centre Pompidou.

And should classical music be your love, don’t forget Paris’ beautiful churches – wonderful places to listen to organ music – in addition to the theatres and concert halls listed in this chapter: the magnificent Sunday-afternoon concerts in the Église St-Sulpice are nothing short of earth-shattering.

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ROCK, POP & INDIE

With several venues in and around the city regularly hosting international performers, it can be easier to see big-name Anglophone acts in Paris than in their home countries. Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy (Map; 08 92 39 01 00, 01 40 02 60 60; www.bercy.fr, in French; 8 blvd de Bercy, 12e; Bercy); Stade de France (Map; 08 92 70 09 00; www.stadefrance.com, in French; rue Francis de Pressensé, ZAC du Cornillon Nord, St-Denis La Plaine; St-Denis-Porte de Paris); and Le Zénith (Map; 08 90 71 02 07, 01 55 80 09 38; www.le-zenith.com, in French; 211 av Jean Jaurès, 19e; Porte de Pantin) in Parc de la Villette are the largest (and most impersonal) venues. But it’s is the smaller concert halls with real history and charm that most fans favour.

LA CIGALE Map

01 49 25 89 99; www.lacigale.fr; 120 blvd de Rochechouart, 18e; admission €25-60; Anvers or Pigalle

Now classed as a historical monument, this music hall dates from 1887 but was redecorated 100 years later by Philippe Starck. Having welcomed artists from Jean Cocteau to Sheryl Crow, today it prides itself on its avant-garde programme, with rock and jazz concerts by French and international acts.

LA FLÈCHE D’OR off Map

01 44 64 01 02; www.flechedor.fr, in French; 102bis rue de Bagnolet, 20e; admission free; 8pm-2am Mon-Thu, to 6am Fri & Sat, noon-2am Sun; Alexandre Dumas or Gambetta

Just over 1km northeast of place de la Nation, this music bar has a striking setup in a former railway station on the outer edge of central Paris. It attracts a young, arty and alternative crowd; this could very well be Berlin and it’s best known for its DJ nights and concerts. Reggae, house/electro and rock feature; ‘The Golden Arrow’ has a solid reputation for promoting young talent.

LE BATACLAN Map

01 43 14 00 30; www.bataclan.fr, in French; 50 blvd Voltaire, 11e; admission €20-45; Oberkampf or St-Ambroise

Built in 1864 and Maurice Chevalier’s debut venue in 1910, this excellent little concert hall draws French (eg Les Têtes Raides) and international rock and pop legends. Recently renovated and now a symphony of lively reds, yellows and green, the Bataclan also masquerades as a theatre and dance hall.

L’ÉLYSÉE-MONTMARTRE Map

01 44 92 45 47; www.elyseemontmartre.com; 72 blvd de Rochechouart, 18e; admission €15-45; Anvers

A huge old music hall with a great sound system, L’Élysée-Montmartre is one of the better venues in Paris for one-off rock and indie concerts (Hush Puppies, Morgan Heritage, Sabotage, Skatalites). It opens for concerts at 6.30pm and hosts club events and big-name DJs at 11.30pm on Fridays and Saturdays.

L’OLYMPIA Map

08 92 68 33 68; www.olympiahall.com; 28 blvd des Capucines, 9e; admission €35-110; Opéra

The Olympia was opened by the founder of the Moulin Rouge in 1888 and is said to be the oldest concert hall in Paris. It’s an atmospheric venue of manageable size, with a sloping floor. It has hosted all the big names over the years, from Johnny Halliday to Jimi Hendrix. This is the hallowed venue of one of Édith Piaf’s last performances, and what Jeff Buckley considered his best ever concert, the seminal Live at l’Olympia in 1995.

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CLASSICAL

The city hosts dozens of orchestral, organ and chamber-music concerts each week. In addition to the theatres and concert halls listed here, Paris’ beautiful churches have much-celebrated organs and can be wonderful places to hear music. Many concerts don’t keep to any fixed schedule, but are simply advertised on posters around town. Admission fees vary, but usually cost from €20 for adults and half that for students.

CONSERVATOIRE NATIONAL SUPÉRIEUR DE MUSIQUE ET DE DANSE Map

01 40 40 46 47; www.cnsmdp.fr; 209 av Jean Jaurès, 19e; box office noon-6pm Tue-Sat, 10am-6pm Sun, to 8pm on day of performance; Porte de Pantin

Students at France’s National Higher Conservatory of Music and Dance put on free orchestra concerts and recitals several times a week, in the afternoon or evening; check its website for the monthly schedule.

SALLE PLEYEL Map

01 42 56 13 13; www.sallepleyel.fr; 252 rue du Faubourg St-Honoré, 8e; tickets €10-85; box office noon-7pm Mon-Sat, to 8pm on day of performance; Ternes

This highly regarded hall dating from the 1920s hosts many of Paris’ finest classical music recitals and concerts, including those by the celebrated Orchestre de Paris (www.orchestredeparis.com, in French). It has recently emerged from a protracted renovation and now looks (and sounds) even more magnifique.

THÉÂTRE DU CHÂTELET Map

01 40 28 28 40; www.chatelet-theatre.com, in French; 1 place du Châtelet, 1er; concert tickets €10-60, opera €10-90, ballet €10-55; box office 11am-7pm, no performances Jul & Aug; Châtelet

This central venue hosts concerts as well as operas, ballets, theatre, and musical performances. Tickets go on sale at the box office 14 days before the performance date. Subject to availability, anyone under 26 or over 65 can get reduced-price tickets from 15 minutes before curtain time. The Sunday concerts at 11am (adult/under 26yr €23/12) are a popular fixture.


DIGITAL MUSIC
Tune into the latest sounds and the concerts they spawn with these useful sites (in French). Most listed on Click here also cover the music scene.
 

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JAZZ & BLUES

Paris became Europe’s most important jazz centre after WWII and, niche as the style has since become, the city’s best clubs and cellars still lure international stars – as does the wonderful Paris Jazz Festival (www.parcfloraldeparis.com or www.paris.fr) that sets the Parc Floral buzzing each year in June and July. Big-name talent is likewise on the billing at Banlieues Bleues (Suburban Blues; www.banlieuesbleues.org), a jazz festival held in March and early April in St-Denis and other Parisian suburbs.

Download podcasts, tunes, concert information and all that jazz to listen to on your iPod from Paris’ soothing jazz radio station, TFS (89.9 MHz FM; www.tsfjazz.com).

CAFÉ UNIVERSEL Map

01 43 25 74 20; www.café-universel.com; 267 rue St-Jacques, 5e; admission free; 9.30pm-2am Mon-Sat; Port Royal

Café Universel hosts a brilliant array of live concerts with everything from bebop and Latin sounds to vocal jazz sessions. Plenty of freedom is given to young producers and artists, and its convivial relaxed atmosphere attracts a mix of students and jazz lovers.

CAVEAU DE LA HUCHETTE Map

01 43 26 65 05; www.caveaudelahuchette.fr; 5 rue de la Huchette, 5e; admission Sun-Thu €11, Fri & Sat €13; 9.30pm-2.30am Sun-Wed, to 4am Thu-Sat; St-Michel

Housed in a medieval caveau (cellar) used as a courtroom and torture chamber during the Revolution, this club is where virtually all the jazz greats have played since the end of WWII. It’s touristy, but the atmosphere can be more electric than at the more serious jazz clubs. Sessions start at 10pm.

HABANA JAZZ Map

01 43 38 14 92; www.habanajazzparis.com, in French; 9 rue Moret, 11e; 8pm-1am Wed-Sun; St-Maur

New jazz supper club on the Ménilmontant/Bastille border that evokes the music and atmosphere of postwar Cuba, with emphasis on viola jazz. Tapas are €5.50, Cuban dishes, €12 to €17 and there are a couple of menus (fixed-price meal with two or three courses) at €30 and €35.

LE BAISER SALÉ Map

01 42 33 37 71; www.lebaisersale.com, in French; 58 rue des Lombards, 1er; admission free-€20; 5pm-6am; Châtelet

One of several jazz clubs located on this street, the salle de jazz (jazz room) on its 1st floor has concerts of jazz, Afro and Latin jazz and jazz fusion. Combining big names and unknown artists, it is known for its relaxed vibe and has a gift for discovering new talents. Music starts at 7pm and again at 10pm.

LE PETIT JOURNAL ST-MICHEL Map

01 43 26 28 59; www.petitjournalsaintmichel.com, in French; 71 blvd St-Michel, 5e; admission incl 1 drink adult €17-20, admission incl 1 drink student €11-15; 6pm-2am Mon-Sat; Luxembourg

Classic jazz concerts kick off at 9.15pm in the atmospheric downstairs cellar – think St-Germain des Prés in the 1950s – of this sophisticated jazz venue opposite the Jardin du Luxembourg. Everything from Dixieland and vocals to big band and swing sets toes tapping, and Monday-night jam sessions are free. Dinner (menus €48 and €53) is served at 8pm, should you wish to make a meal of it.

Concerts at St-Michel’s sister club near Gare de Montparnasse, Le Petit Journal Montparnasse (Map; 01 43 21 56 70; www.petitjournal-montparnasse.com; 13 rue Commandant Mouchotte, 14e; admission adult/student €25/15; 8pm-2am Mon-Sat), start at 10pm, and a traditional French dinner (€60) can be enjoyed beforehand.

NEW MORNING Map

01 45 23 51 41; www.newmorning.com, in French; 7-9 rue des Petites Écuries, 10e; admission €15-21; 8pm-2am; Château d’Eau

New Morning is a highly regarded auditorium with excellent acoustics that hosts big-name jazz concerts as well as blues, rock, funk, salsa, Afro-Cuban and Brazilian music. Concerts take place three to seven nights a week at 9pm, with the second set ending at about 1am. Tickets can usually be purchased at the door.

SUNSET & SUNSIDE Map

01 40 26 46 60; www.sunset-sunside.com; 60 rue des Lombards, 1er; admission free-€25; 8pm-4am; Châtelet

Two venues in one at this trendy, well-respected club. The Sunset downstairs has electric jazz and fusion concerts beginning at 10pm. It leans towards world music and sometimes runs salsa sessions during the week. The Sunside picks things up upstairs with jazz acoustics and concerts at 9pm.

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WORLD & LATINO

Sono mondiale (world music) is a big deal in Paris, where everything – from Algerian raï and other North African music to Senegalese mbalax and West Indian zouk – goes at clubs. Latino music, especially Cuban salsa, has been overwhelmingly popular over the past decade or so. Many concert and clubbing venues Click here listed have salsa classes; look for dancing along the Seine in summer.

CITÉ DE LA MUSIQUE Map

01 44 84 44 84; www.cite-musique.fr; 221 av Jean Jaurès, 19e; tickets €8-38; box office noon-6pm Tue-Sat, 10am-6pm Sun, to 8pm on day of performance; Porte de Pantin

At the Parc de la Villette, every imaginable type of music and dance, from Western classical to North African and Japanese, is hosted at this venue’s oval-shaped, 1200-seat main auditorium. Concerts are in the little Amphithéâtre du Musée de la Musique. Get tickets from the glassed-in box office opposite the main auditorium and next to the Fontaine aux Lions.

DANCING DE LA COUPOLE Map

01 43 27 56 00; 102 blvd du Montparnasse, 14e; admission €12-16; 9.30pm-3am Thu, 11.30pm-5.30am Fri, 10am-5pm Sat; Vavin

Above the restaurant of the same name, this established club is famed for its salsa nights, which were credited with single-handedly passing Latin fever to most of Paris. Salsa and Latino nights still take place, but the venue also hosts other kinds of music like zouk, reggae, funk and garage.

LA CHAPELLE DES LOMBARDS Map

01 43 57 24 24; 19 rue de Lappe, 11e; admission free-€19; 11pm-6am Tue-Sun; Bastille

This perennially popular Bastille dance club has happening Latino DJs and reggae, funk and Afro jazz concerts – in a word, a bit of everything. Concerts usually take place at 8pm on Thursday, Friday and Saturday.

LA JAVA Map

01 42 02 20 52; www.la-java.fr; 105 rue du Faubourg du Temple, 10e; admission €5-24; 7.30pm-3am Tue-Thu, 11pm-6am Fri & Sat; Goncourt

Built in 1922, this is the dance hall where Édith Piaf got her first break, and it now reverberates to the sound of live salsa and other Latino music. Live concerts of the world music variety usually take place during the week at 8pm or 9pm. Afterwards a festive crowd gets dancing to electro, house, disco and Latino DJs.

L’ATTIRAIL Map

01 42 72 44 42; www.lattirail.com, in French; 9 rue au Maire, 3e; admission free; 10.30am-1.30am Mon-Sat, 3pm-1.30am Sun; Arts et Métiers

There are free concerts of chansons françaises and world music (Hungarian and Balkan Gypsy music, Irish folk, klezmer, southern Italian folk) almost daily at 9.30pm at this cosmopolitan enclave next door to the popular club Tango. Manic but friendly customers crowd the Formica bar, with its cheap pots (460mL bottle) of wine and friendly staff.

SATELLIT CAFÉ Map

01 47 00 48 87; www.satellit-café.com; 44 rue de la Folie Méricourt, 11e; admission €5-10; 8pm-3am Tue-Thu, 10pm-dawn Fri & Sat, 4pm-3am Sun; Oberkampf

A great venue for world music, and not as painfully trendy as some others in Paris. Come here to hear everything from blues and flamenco to reggae and bossa nova. Concerts usually take place at 9pm. Salsa nights with dancing lessons take place every 1st and 3rd Friday at 8.30pm; Sunday is Latino night.

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FRENCH CHANSONS

Think of French music and accordions or chansonniers (cabaret singers) like Édith Piaf, Jacques Brel, Georges Brassens and Léo Ferré float through the air. But though you may stumble upon buskers performing chansons françaises or playing musette (accordion music) in the markets, it is harder than you’d imagine to catch traditional French music in a more formal setting. Try the venues listed here to hear it in traditional and modern forms.

Keep an eye open for the reopening of the long-overdue Théâtre des Trois Baudets (Map; http://troisbaudets.com; 2 rue Coustou, 18e; Blanche), a mecca for chansonniers and their fans for almost 50 years till it closed in 1996.

AU LAPIN AGILE Map

01 46 06 85 87; www.au-lapin-agile.com; 22 rue des Saules, 18e; adult €24, student except Sat €17; 9pm-2am Tue-Sun; Lamarck Caulaincourt

This rustic cabaret venue was favoured by artists and intellectuals in the early 20th century and chansons are still performed here. The four-hour show starts at 9.30pm and includes singing and poetry. Some love it, others feel it’s a bit of a trap. Admission includes one drink (€6 or €7 subsequently). It’s named after Le Lapin à Gill, a mural of a rabbit jumping out of a cooking pot by caricaturist André Gill, which can still be seen on the western exterior wall.


ÉDITH PIAF: URCHIN SPARROW
Like her American contemporary Judy Garland, Édith Piaf was not just a singer but a tragic and stoic figure whom the nation took to its heart yet never leting go.
She was born Édith Giovanna Gassion to a street acrobat and a singer in the working-class district of Belleville in 1915. Spending her childhood with an alcoholic grandmother who neglected her, and a stint with her father’s family, who ran a local brothel in Normandy, Piaf’s beginnings were far from fortunate. On tour with her father at the age of nine, by 15 she had left home to sing alone in the streets of Paris. It was her first employer, Louis Leplée, who dubbed her la môme piaf (urchin sparrow) and introduced her to the cabarets of the capital.
When Leplée was murdered in 1935 Piaf faced the streets again, but along came Raymond Asso, an ex–French Legionnaire who became her Pygmalion. He forced her to break with her pimp and hustler friends, put her in her signature black dress and was the inspiration for her first big hit, ‘Mon légionnaire’ (‘My Legionnaire’) in 1937. When she signed a contract with what is now La Java (opposite), one of the most famous Parisian music halls of the time, her career skyrocketed.
This frail woman, who sang about street life, drugs, unrequited love, violence, death and whores, seemed to embody all the miseries of the world, yet sang in a husky, powerful voice with no self-pity. Her tumultuous love life earned her the reputation as une dévoreuse d’hommes (a man-eater); in fact she launched the careers of several of her lovers, including Yves Montand and Charles Aznavour. When one of her lovers, world middleweight boxing champion Marcel Cerdan, died suddenly in a plane crash, Piaf insisted that the show go on – and fainted on stage in the middle of ‘L’Hymne à l’amour’ (‘Hymn to Love’), a song inspired by her late lover.
After suffering injuries in a car accident in 1951, Piaf began drinking heavily and became addicted to morphine. Despite her rapidly declining health she continued to take the world stage, including New York’s Carnegie Hall in 1956, and recorded some of her biggest hits such as ‘Je ne regrette rien’ (‘I regret nothing’) and ‘Milord’ (‘My Lord’). In 1962, frail and once again penniless, Piaf married a 20-year-old hairdresser called Théophanis Lamboukas (aka Théo Sarapo), recorded the duet ‘À quoi ça sert l’amour?’ (‘What Use Is Love?’) with him and left Paris for the south of France, where she died the following year. Some two million people attended her funeral in Paris, and the grave of the beloved and much missed Urchin Sparrow at Père Lachaise Cemetery is still visited and decorated by thousands of loyal fans each year. And interest in her life and work lives on: the 2007 biopic La Môme was an international success and won several major awards including an Academy Award for Marion Cotillard, who played Piaf.

AU LIMONAIRE Map

01 45 23 33 33; http://limonaire.free.fr; 18 cité Bergère, 9e; admission free; 7pm-midnight Mon, 6pm-midnight Tue-Sun; Grands Boulevards

This little wine bar, tucked far away from the big commercial cabarets off rue Bergère, is one of the best places to listen to traditional French chansons and other traditional vocals. The singers (who change regularly) perform on the small stage every night; the fun begins at 7pm on Sunday, 8.30pm on Monday and at 10pm Tuesday to Saturday. It’s free entry, and simple meals are served for between €8.50 and €11.

CHEZ ADEL Map

01 42 08 24 61; 10 rue de la Grange aux Belles, 10e; admission free; noon-2am Tue-Sun; Jacques Bonsergent

Chez Adel is a truly Parisian concept: Syrian hosts with guest chansonniers (as well as Gypsy, folk and world music singers) performing most nights to a mixed and enthusiastic crowd. Mains cost from €7.50. The part-Parisian, part-Eastern décor of this simple bistro looks better as the owners’ punch goes down. Music starts at 7pm weekdays and at 4pm on Saturday and Sunday.


PARIS VIBES
Tariq Krim, charismatic founder and CEO of Netvibes.com, is among a clutch of young innovators credited with making the internet what it is. Be it tracking the future in digital space or the next best bar in his city, he is a Parisian in tune with the vibe. He has clubbed with Paris’ finest first-generation electronic-music DJs, his music taste is eclectic and as work increasingly takes him around the world, he is enjoying a new weekend affair with his city. So where does he go on Saturday night? He opened his address book to Nicola Williams at Netvibes’ sunlit loft offices in the 2e, around the corner from the Rex Club.
You go out a lot, right? I’m not very often here anymore (always travelling with Netvibes), and when I am it’s for fun; it’s interesting because now I’m experiencing Paris at the weekend. I’m very loyal to lots of places. I grew up in the Marais and spent almost all my life there and the Bastille. The 11e is my all-time favourite neighbourhood: I’m very much this side of the Seine, but you know the story… If I have to go to St-Germain I don’t know where to go.
Your ideal night out? Two kinds: when you have no voice because you have to yell over the music and places where you can actually talk.
Perfect lose-your-voice places? Chez Janou ( 01 42 72 28 41; www.chezjanou.com; 2 rue Roger Verlomme, 3e; Chemin Vert), one of my favourite restaurants in France, period. It’s been there for 10 years and is an institution, the canteen of people like John Malkovich. I call it little New York now because so many people speak English there these days. Or Café de l’Industrie ( 01 47 00 13 53; 17 rue St-Sabin, 11e; Breguet Sabin); that’s a loud place. Then drinks at L’Aréa ( 01 42 72 96 50; 10 rue Tournelles, 4e; Bastille), a Lebanese-Brazilian restaurant with lots of music. The owner, Édouard, is an amazing guy, super nice, and knows where to send you next, which clubs… I used to go to the Rex. Now there’s the Social Club.
For something quieter? Two Italian restaurants: There is one I love – it could be the perfect date restaurant: Swann et Vincent (Click here; 01 43 43 49 40; 7 rue St-Nicolas, 12e; Ledru-Rollin). And there’s Le Rusti ( 01 42 72 02 51; 8 rue des Tournelles, 4e; Bastille): small, very trendy, lots of beautiful people.
Then I go for a cocktail. Le Fumoir has the best collection of vodka martinis and is very quiet, especially the last room at the back. I love the idea of a vintage club with armchairs, a library full of books and international magazines, and people drinking very nice cocktails. The décor is also amazing: Art Deco – lost in New York after Prohibition.
The other place I go is a new place called The Experimental Cocktail Club ( 01 45 08 88 09; www.myspace.com/experimentalcocktailclub; 37 rue St-Saveur, 2e; 6pm-2am Sun-Thu, to even later Fri & Sat; Reaumur Sébastopol), so successful they’re opening another Click here. A similar concept to Milk & Honey – amazing cocktails, people super-nice and it’s small.
Another, already known by a bunch of people, but one I love is L’Étoile Manquante (Click here; 01 42 72 48 34; www.cafeine.com; 34 rue du Vieille du Temple, 4e; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul Café).
For an aperitif? Definitely The Experimental Cocktail Club or Le Fumoir.
Best neighbourhood bar? Le Fée Verte ( 01 43 72 31 24; 108 rue de la Roquette, 11e; Voltaire): I started Netvibes here three years ago – imagine the perfect dream bar with wi-fi; it was one of the first. I love the idea of being in contact with the world and saying ‘Can I have another cappuccino, please?’!
For live music? La Scène Bastille ( 01 48 06 50 70; www.scenebastille.com; 2bis rue des Taillandiers, 11e; 7.30pm-6am Mon-Sat; Bastille) and Le Batofar, far from everything (it’s the last stop) but one of the most interesting places, different types of music and lots of style.
Best concept bar? There are very few. On Elizabeth St in New York every bar is a whole experience, has an entire design. Here in Paris you still have the vieux bistro type, but you don’t see the concept bar, or when you do see it, it’s on the Champs-Elysées and tries too hard to be trendy.
A new address? L’Orange Mécanique ( 09 54 43 55 02; www.myspace.com/lorangemecanique; 72 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; Parmentier) – not crowded, interesting music and a fun décor.
Nightlife philosophy? You can be in the best place by yourself or the worst place with your friends; I would always go for the second.
Interviewed by Nicola Williams

CHEZ LOUISETTE Map

01 40 12 10 14; Marché aux Puces de St-Ouen; noon-6pm Sat-Mon; Porte de Clignancourt

Here since 1967, this little bistro is a highlight of any visit to Paris’ largest flea market. Market-goers crowd around little tables to eat lunch (mains €15 to €20) and hear old-time chanteuses and chanteurs (they change regularly) belt out numbers by Piaf and other classic French singers, accompanied by accordion music; you might even get to see an inspired diner jump up to dance la guingette (the jig) in the aisles.

LE VIEUX BELLEVILLE Map

01 44 62 92 66; www.le-vieux-belleville.com; 12 rue des Envierges, 20e; admission free; performances at 8.30pm Tue, Thu & Fri; Pyrénées

This old-fashioned bistro at the top of Parc de Belleville is an atmospheric venue for performances of chansons featuring accordions and an organ grinder three times a week. It’s a lively favourite with locals, though, so booking ahead is advised. ‘The Old Belleville’ serves classic bistro food (open for lunch Monday to Saturday and dinner Tuesday to Saturday).

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DANCE

The Ballet de l’Opéra National de Paris (www.opera-de-paris.fr, in French) performs at both the Palais Garnier and the Opéra Bastille. Other important venues for both classical and modern dance are the Théâtre du Châtelet and those listed here.

LE REGARD DU CYGNE Map

01 43 58 55 93; www.leregarducygne.com, in French; 210 rue de Belleville, 20e; admission €5-13; Place des Fêtes

Le Regard du Cygne prides itself on being an independent, alternative performance space. Situated in the creative 20e, this is where many of Paris’ young and daring talents in movement, music and theatre congregate to perform. If you’re in the mood for some innovative and experimental modern dance, performance or participation, this is the place to come. The box office is open one hour before performances.

THÉÂTRE DE LA VILLE Map

01 42 74 22 77; www.theatredelaville-paris.com, in French; 2 place du Châtelet, 4e; adult €17-23, student & under 28yr €12-13.50; box office 11am-7pm Mon, to 8pm Tue-Sat; Châtelet

While the Théâtre de la Ville also hosts theatre and music, it’s most celebrated for its contemporary dance productions by such noted choreographers as Merce Cunningham, Angelin Preljocaj and Maguy Marin. Depending on availability, students and those under 28 can buy up to two tickets for €12 or €13.50 each on the day of the performance. There are no performances in July and August. Its sister venue, the Théâtre de la Ville-Salle Abbesses (Map; 01 42 74 22 77; 31 rue des Abbesses, 18e; Abbesses) stages even more avant-garde productions.

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FILM

Both Pariscope and L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here list the full crop of Paris’ cinematic pickings and screening times, though going to the cinema in Paris is not cheap: expect to pay up to €10 for a first-run film. Students, under 18s and over 60s get discounted tickets (usually just under €6) every night except Friday, and all day Saturday and on Sunday matinées. Wednesday yields discounts for everyone. English-language films with French subtitles are labelled ‘VO’ (version originale).

There are a few noteworthy movie theatres over and above mainstream cinemas showing Hollywood blockbusters:

CINÉMA DES CINÉASTES Map

01 53 42 40 20; www.cinema-des-cineastes.fr, in French; 7 av de Clichy, 17e; adult €8.70, student & child €6.80, morning screenings €6; Place de Clichy

Founded by the three Claudes (Miller, Berri and Lelouch) and Betty Blue director Jean-Jacques Beneix, this is a three-screen theatre dedicated to quality cinema, be it French or foreign, but always avant-garde. Thematic showings, documentaries and meet-the-director sessions round out the repertoire. Don’t miss the excellent Bar à Vins du Cinéma des Cinéastes on the 1st floor.

CINÉMATHÈQUE FRANÇAISE Map

01 71 19 33 33; www.cinemathequefrancaise.com; 51 rue Bercy, 12e; adult/student/child under 12yr €6/5/3; box office noon-7pm Mon, Wed, Fri & Sat, to 10pm Thu, 10am-8pm Sun; Bercy

This national institution is a temple to the ‘seventh art’ and always leaves its foreign offerings – often rarely screened classics – in their original versions. The association is a nonprofit collective and also holds debates, cultural events, workshops and exhibitions. For information on its exhibitions Click here.

LA PAGODE Map

01 45 55 48 48; 57bis rue de Babylone, 7e; adult/student €6/4; Vaneau

A classified historical monument, this Chinese-style pagoda was shipped to France, piece by piece, in 1895 by Monsieur Morin (the then proprietor of Le Bon Marché), who had it rebuilt in his garden on rue de Babylone as a love present for his wife. The wife clearly wasn’t that impressed – she left him a year later. But Parisian cinéphiles who flock here to revel in its eclectic programme are. La Pagode has been a fantastic, atmospheric cinema since 1931 – don’t miss a moment or two in its bamboo-enshrined garden.

LE CHAMPO Map

01 43 54 51 60; www.lechampo.com, in French; 51 rue des Écoles, 5e; adult/student & under 20yr €7.50/6, 2pm matinée €5; St-Michel or Cluny la Sorbonne

This is one of the most popular of the many Latin Quarter cinemas, featuring classics and retrospectives looking at the films of actors and directors such as Alfred Hitchcock, Jacques Tati, Alain Resnais, Frank Capra and Woody Allen. One of the two salles (cinemas) has wheelchair access.

MK2 BIBLIOTHÈQUE Map

08 92 69 84 84; www.mk2.com; 128-162 av de France, 13e; adult/student/under 18yr €9.90/6.80/5.90, everyone before noon €5.90; Bibliothèque

This branch of the ever-growing chain (nine outlets at last count) next to the Bibliothèque Nationale is the most ambitious yet, with 14 screens, a trendy café, brasserie, restaurant, late-night bar and a trio of shops specialising in DVDs, books and comics and graphic novels respectively. MK2 cinemas show blockbusters and studio films, so there’s always something for everyone. Don’t miss the new branches MK2 Quai de Seine (Map; 08 92 69 84 84; 14 quai de Seine, 19e; Jaurès or Stalingrad) and MK2 Quai de Loire (Map; 08 92 69 84 84; 7 quai de Loire, 19e; Jaurès or Stalingrad), which face one another opposite the canal and are linked by ferry boat.

UGC CINÉ CITÉ LA DÉFENSE Map

08 92 70 00 00; www.mk2.com; 15 Parvis de la Défense; adult/student/under 18yr €9.50/6.50/5.90, everyone before noon €5.50; La Défense Grande Arche

One of a dozen-odd UGC cinemas in Paris, this modern 16-screen venue inside the Centre Commercial des Quatre Temps shows all the latest box-office hits, many in VO, ie invariably English. IMAX fans, don’t get excited – the screen inside the dome is a regular one. Descend one floor to refuel with food and drink in style.

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OPERA

The Opéra National de Paris (ONP) splits its performance schedule between the Palais Garnier, its original home (completed in 1875), and the modern Opéra Bastille, which opened in 1989. Both opera houses also stage ballets and classical-music concerts performed by the ONP’s affiliated orchestra and ballet companies. The season runs from September to July.

OPÉRA BASTILLE Map

08 92 89 90 90, 01 72 29 35 35; www.opera-de-paris.fr, in French; 2-6 place de la Bastille, 12e; opera €5-150, ballet €5-80, concert tickets €10-65; Bastille

Despite some initial resistance to this 3400-seat venue, the main opera house in the capital, it’s now performing superbly. While less alluring than the Palais Garnier (opposite), at least all seats have a view of the stage. Ticket sales begin at a precise date prior to each performance, with different opening dates for bookings by telephone, online or from the box office (Map; 130 rue de Lyon, 11e; 10.30am-6.30pm Mon-Sat). Box office sales start 14 days before the performance date. The cheapest opera seats are €7 and are sold only from the box office. Note: on the first day they are released, box office tickets can be bought only from the opera house at which the performance is to be held. At Bastille, standing-only tickets for €5 are available 1½ hours before performances begin. Just 15 minutes before the curtain goes up, last-minute seats at reduced rates (usually €20 for opera and ballet performances) are released to people aged under 28 or over 60.

OPÉRA COMIQUE Map

08 25 01 01 23; www.opera-comique.com; place Boïeldieu, 2e; tickets €6-95; Richelieu Drouot

This century-old hall has premiered many important French operas. It continues to host classic and less-known operas. Buy tickets online or from the box office (5 rue Favart, 2e; 11am-7pm Mon-Fri, to 2pm & 3-7pm Sat, 1hr before performances) on the southwest side of the theatre. Subject to availability, students and those under 28 can buy tickets for less than €15.

PALAIS GARNIER Map

08 92 89 90 90; www.opera-de-paris.fr; place de l’Opéra, 9e; Opéra

The city’s original opera house is smaller and more glamorous than its Bastille counterpart, and boasts perfect acoustics. Due to its odd shape, however, some seats have limited or no visibility. Ticket prices and conditions (including last-minute discounts) at the box office ( 11am-6.30pm Mon-Sat) are identical to those at the Opéra Bastille (opposite).

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THEATRE

Most theatre productions, including those originally written in other languages, are performed in French in Paris. But there is the odd itinerant English-speaking troupe around, and some theatres, such as the celebrated Théâtre des Bouffes du Nord (right), stage the occasional English-language production.

COMÉDIE FRANÇAISE Map

08 25 10 16 80; www.comedie-francaise.fr, in French; place Colette, 1er; tickets €5-37; box office 11am-6pm; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre

Founded in 1680 under Louis XIV, the ‘French Comedy’ theatre bases its repertoire around the works of classic French playwrights such as Molière, Racine, Corneille, Beaumarchais, Marivaux and Musset, though in recent years contemporary and even – shock, horror! – non-French works have been staged.

There are three venues: the main Salle Richelieu on place Colette just west of the Palais Royal; the Studio Théâtre (Map; 01 44 58 98 58; Galerie du Carrousel du Louvre, 99 rue de Rivoli, 1er; box office 2-5pm Wed-Sun; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre) and the Théâtre du Vieux Colombier (Map; 01 44 39 87 00; 21 rue du Vieux Colombier, 6e; box office 11am-6pm; St-Sulpice).

Tickets for regular seats cost €11 to €37; tickets for the 65 places near the ceiling (€5) go on sale one hour before curtain time (usually 8.30pm) at the discount ticket window (Map) around the corner from the main entrance and facing place André Malraux. Those aged under 27 can purchase any of the better seats remaining one hour before curtain time for between €10 and €12 at the main box office.

THÉÂTRE DES BOUFFES DU NORD Map

01 46 07 34 50; www.bouffesdunord.com, in French; 37bis blvd de la Chapelle, 10e; adult €12-24, student & under 25yr €10-20; box office 11am-6pm Mon-Sat; La Chapelle

Perhaps best known as the Paris base of Peter Brooks’ and Micheline Rozan’s experimental troupes, this theatre in the northern reaches of the 10e and just north of the Gare du Nord also hosts works by other directors (eg Declan Donnellan, Stéphane Braunschweig, Krzysztof Warlikowski), as well as classical and jazz concerts.


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SPORTS & ACTIVITIES


HEALTH & FITNESS
    HAMMAMS & SPAS
    GYMS
ACTIVITIES
    CYCLING
    SKATING
    BOULES & BOWLING
    TENNIS
    SWIMMING
SPECTATOR SPORT
    FOOTBALL
    RUGBY
    TENNIS
    CYCLING
    HORSE RACING



top picks
 






What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



Hot, sticky sports and ice-cool Parisians seemingly don’t go together. Au contraire: not only are Parisians mad about watching sport, they play it too. The only trifling difference between us and them is that they wouldn’t be seen dead walking down the street in their tracksuit (or working out in their lunch hour).

As the French capital, Paris is privy to big games in world-class stadiums, and there are bags of opportunities to see great sporting moments unfold before your very eyes. Out of the arena, it’s dead easy for all those closet sportifs (sportspeople) to stay fit (and sickeningly slim). Be it cycling, swimming, lounging on the beach, street blading with the masses or practising the silent art of t’ai chi in the Jardin du Luxembourg, this urban landscape is action-packed.

The best single source of information on sports – spectator and participatory – is the free, 500-page Parisports: Le Guide du Sport à Paris (www.sport.paris.fr, in French), published online and on paper by the Mairie de Paris (Paris Town Hall; Map; 39 75; www.paris.fr; Hôtel de Ville, 29 rue de Rivoli, 4e; Hôtel de Ville); mairies (town halls) in every arrondissement have information on sports in their own patch. For sports stadiums, venues, public spaces and associations surf www.parisinfo.com.

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HEALTH & FITNESS

Whether you want to hobnob with the stars at a spa de luxe or dance the samba on the Seine, Paris has spaces to suit every whim. Spoil yourself.

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HAMMAMS & SPAS

Nothing beats a lavender-and-ginger massage, perfumed foot soak or flop in a traditional Turkish bath (hammam) between sips of thé à la menthe (mint tea) after a hard day slogging the city sights.

ESPACE JOÏYA Map

01 40 70 16 49; www.joiya.fr; 6 rue de la Renaissance, 8e; 30min/1hr/90min €45/80/115; 10.30am-7pm Mon-Thu, 10.30am-9pm Fri & Sat; Alma-Morceau

The creation of former Russian model mad about Asia, Julia Lemigova (she looks like Julia Roberts), this exclusive spa unwinds wound-up city slickers with detox and de-stress massages using natural and essential oils. The truly indulgent can go for a four-hand massage, followed by a bento box lunch (€25) in the stylish salon de thé. Or plump for both options: a 30-/60-minute massage and bento lunch costs €65/100.

HAMMAM DE LA MOSQUÉE DE PARIS Map

01 43 31 38 20; www.la-mosquee.com; 39 rue Geoffroy St-Hilaire, 5e; admission €15; men 2-9pm Tue & 10am-9pm Sun, women 10am-9pm Mon, Wed, Thu & Sat, 2-9pm Fri; Censier Daubenton or Place Monge

Massages at this atmospheric hammam cost €1 a minute and come in 10-, 20- or 30-minute packages. Should you fancy an exfoliating body scrub and mint tea, get the 10-/30-minute massage formule (€38/58). There are lunch deals for rumbling tummies. Bring a swimsuit but hire a towel/dressing gown (€4/5). No children under 12 years.

SPA HARNN & THANN Map

01 40 15 02 20; www.harnn-spa.fr; 11 rue Molière, 1e; massage from €75; 11am-9pm Mon-Wed, Fri & Sat, 11am-10pm Thu; Pyramides

This relaxing ‘natural home spa’ is another heady one for the senses. Masseuses soothe muscles with traditional Thai massage techniques and an aromatic mix of plant and essential oils. Particularly inventive are its Wednesday Les Petit Duos – a 30-minute massage for one worn-out mum or dad plus kid (aged six to 12 years) – and its after-work bien-être (well-being) deal for couples, which includes a foot bath, massage en duo and dinner at a neighbouring Thai restaurant. A 20-minute lounge in the peacock-blue hammam costs €20.

SPA NUXE Map

01 55 80 71 40; www.nuxe.com; 32 rue Montorgueil, 1e; massage from €75; 9am-9pm Mon-Fri, 9am-7.30pm Sat; Les Halles


PARKOUR & FREERUNNING
Should you be stopped dead in your tracks on the streets of Paris by a feline figure scaling two buildings with a death-defying leap, vaulting a statue or springing off a lamppost, no sweat: that’s Parkour. Throw in a 360° backflip and triple somersault and you have its more flamboyant acrobatic brother, Freerunning.
Born in the Parisian suburbs, the craze of getting from A to B without letting anything get in your way has since gained a cult following in cities worldwide. And anything really means anything, be it a stairwell, metro station entrance, Vélib’ bike stand or 25m gap between rooftops. One YouTube video tags it as ‘dudes fiddling around with buildings’ (a fair enough assumption), but this is a discipline fusing sport, art and philosophy with serious backbone. Plain dangerous, in fact, whether you do or don’t know what you’re doing.
Two godlike men with a cinematic screen presence and muscles to die for are behind the French-bred discipline, which some say was the natural progression of New York’s 1970s breakdance: David Belle (b 1973; http://kyzr.free.fr/davidbelle) and Sébastien Foucan (b 1974; www.foucan.com). The two played together as kids growing up in the Parisian suburb of Lisses, 40km south of the centre, and in 1989 as fearless adolescents they put a name to their increasingly dare-devil street antics – Parkour, from the French military’s ‘parcours du combattant’ (obstacle courses).
But in the 1990s, then a fireman, Foucan found his outlook shifting subtly away from Belle’s as the philosophical lure of martial arts and yearning for greater freedom of expression kicked in. Thus, in 2001, he came up with his own, more expressive brand of Parkour called Freerunning. While Belle and his followers (known as les traceurs) ruthlessly track the shortest, most efficient route from A to B, Foucan’s team focuses on aesthetics and creativity of movement – hence the gravity-defying stunts and acrobatics choreographed in most Freerunning movements. As much a mental as physical challenge (indeed, ‘obstacles’ are not always what they seem), both brands advocate the extreme sport as a way of life in which inner balance plays as crucial a role as physical prowess.
Naturals when it comes to the silver screen, Belle and Foucan are both film stars. A black belt in Gong Fu, Belle struts his stunts as a do-gooder ghetto kid in Luc Besson’s Banlieue 13 (2004), aptly set in a drug- and gun-riddled Parisian suburb in 2010. Among Foucan’s spellbinding credits are James Bond movie Casino Royale (2006) and Madonna’s 2006 ‘Confessions’ world tour.

A regular in Elle and other French glossies, this Zen spa lounging in a medieval wine cellar with old stone walls and wood-beamed ceilings is where stars and supermodels find peace. An orgy of 45-minute massages (Thai, Chinese, Californian, Yoga, Shiatsu), including rhythmic ones to music (€80); skin treatments; French pedicures and manicures; and so on.

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GYMS

Many Paris gyms and fitness clubs allow one-off or short-term memberships.

CLUB MED GYM

08 20 20 20 20; www.clubmedgym.com, in French

In addition to 13 gyms, Club Med runs ‘Club Med Waou’ (basically, ‘Club Med Wow’) centres offering luxurious settings and spa facilities; check the website for locations. Club Med Gym branches include Palais Royal (Map; 01 40 20 03 03; 147bis rue St-Honoré, 1er; 7.30am-10pm Mon-Fri, 9am-7pm Sat, 9am-5pm Sun; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre); and République (Map; 01 47 00 69 98; 10 place de la République, 11e; 7.30am-10pm Mon-Fri, 8am-7pm Sat, 9am-5pm Sun; République), which is entered via rue du Faubourg du Temple.

ESPACE ST-LOUIS Map

01 43 26 93 99; www.espace-saint-louis.com, in French; 51-53 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 2e; 1/10/20 sessions €18/150/240; Pont Marie

Take your pick of keep-fit courses at this fun fitness space on an island: pilates, Hatha or Ashtanga yoga, Qi Gong, salsa, samba, flamenco, modern jazz. Pay €10 to try a one-hour cour or buy a carnet. Recommended are the classes aboard a péniche (barge) on the Seine; details online.

VIT’HALLES BEAUBOURG Map

01 42 77 21 71; www.vithalles.com, in French; 48 rue de Rambuteau, 3e; admission €25, 10-entry carnet €199; 8am-10.30pm Mon-Fri, 9am-7pm Sat, 10am-7pm Sun; Rambuteau

This squeaky-clean health club gets fabulous reviews from local residents and blow-ins; it follows the Les Mills fitness programme.

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ACTIVITIES

Entertainment weeklies Pariscope and L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here list what’s on.

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CYCLING

Plenty more Parisians are pedal-powered thanks to Vélib’ (Click here for details); for imaginative and unusual cycling itineraries suggested by Parisians, subscribe to its monthly online newsletter and read the blog (http://blog.velib.paris.fr/blog, in French).

Including tracks in the Bois de Boulogne (16e) and Bois de Vincennes (12e), Paris has 370km of pistes cyclables (cycling lanes) running throughout the city, as well as a dedicated lane running parallel to about two-thirds of blvd Périphérique. On Sunday and holidays, large sections of road are reserved for pedestrians, cyclists and skaters under the scheme Paris Respire (below).

The Mairie de Paris (Map; 39 75; www.paris.fr; Hôtel de Ville, 29 rue de Rivoli, 4e; Hôtel de Ville) is an invaluable source of information for cyclists: it allows free downloads online at www.velo.paris.fr of its carte des itinéraries cyclables (map of cycling itineraries) mapping every Parisian cycling path; pick up a paper version at local mairies. This is also the place to find itineraries, rules and regulations detailed in its free booklet Paris à Vélo (Paris by Bicycle). More detailed is Paris de Poche: Cycliste et Piéton (Pocket Paris: Cyclist and Pedestrian; €3.50), sold in bookshops.

For information on guided bicycle tours, Click here.


PARIS BREATHES
Now a well-established operation, Paris Respire (‘Paris Breathes’) kicks motorised traffic off certain streets at certain times to let pedestrians, cyclists, in-line skaters and other non-motorised cruisers breathe. While it drives its usual traffic jams and pollution to other spots in the city instead, it makes Sundays very pedal-pleasurable.
The tracks listed here are off-limits to cars on Sunday and public holidays. For updates on exact routes and detailed maps www.velo.paris.fr.
 
  • By the Seine: from quai des Tuileries, 1e, to Pont Charles de Gaulle, 12e, on the Right Bank; and on the Left Bank from the eastern end of quai Branly near Pont d’Alma, 7e, to quai Anatole France, 7e (from 9am to 5pm).
  • Latin Quarter, 5e: rue de Cluny and from place Marcelin Berthelot by the Sorbonne to the rue Mouffetard market via rue de Lanneau, rue de l’École Polytechnique and rue des Descartes (from 10am to 6pm).
  • Bastille, 11e: Rue de la Roquette and surrounding streets (from 10am to 6pm July and August).
  • Montmartre and Pigalle: all the streets in Montmartre, 18e, encircled by rue Caulaincourt, rue de Clignancourt, blvd de Rochechouart and blvd de Clichy (from 11am to 7pm April to August, 11am to 6pm September to March); and rue des Martyrs, 9e (from 10am to 1pm).
  • Canal St-Martin, 10e: a particularly scenic area around quai de Valmy and quai de Jemmapes (from 10am to 6pm winter, 10am to 8pm summer); in July and August yet more streets running south from quai de Jemmapes become car-free.
  • Bois de Boulogne: (from 9am to 6pm Saturday and Sunday) and Bois de Vincennes (from 9am to 6pm Sunday).
  • Jardin du Luxembourg, 6e: immediate surrounding streets including parts of rue Auguste Compte, rue d’Assas, blvd St-Michel and rue des Chartreux (from 10am to 6pm March to November).

Bicycle Hire

FAT TIRE BIKE TOURS Map

01 56 58 10 54; www.fattirebiketoursparis.com; 24 rue Edgar Faure, 15e; 1hr/day/weekend/week €2.50/15/25/50; 9am-7pm; La Motte-Picquet Grenelle

Fat Tire is a friendly Anglophone outfit that rents three-speed cruisers, kids’ bikes, trailers, tandems and so on. Show a driver’s licence or passport and leave €250 deposit on your credit card.

GEPETTO & VÉLOS Map

01 43 54 19 95; www.gepetto-et-velos.com, in French; 59 rue du Cardinal Lemoine, 5e; half-/full- day/weekend/week €7.50/14/23/50; 10am-7pm Tue-Sun; Cardinal Lemoine

New and secondhand bicycles plus repairs. To rent, show your passport and leave a €325 deposit.

MAISON ROUE LIBRE Map

01 44 76 86 43, 08 10 44 15 34; www.rouelibre.fr; 1 Passage Mondétour, 1er; 1hr/4hr/weekend €4/10/28, weekday/Sat or Sun/night from 5pm €10/15/7, electric bikes 1hr/4hr/weekday/Sat or Sun €6.50/16/16/26; 9am-7pm mid-Jan–mid-Dec; Les Halles

Sponsored by the city’s public transport system, this is the place to rent a bike – pedal powered or electric (with which you can rent a €32 audioguide). Seniors, students and under-26s get a 10% discount. Insurance, helmet and baby seat are included. The deposit is €150, and you need some form of ID. Its outlet at Bastille (Map; 01 44 71 54 54; 37 blvd Bourdon, 4e; Bastille) shares the same hours. From 10am to 6pm Sunday and public holidays April to October, bikes can also be rented from ‘cyclobuses’ (bikes stored on big buses) around the city, including Denfert-Rochereau (Map; cnr rue Daguerre & av Général Leclerc, 14e; Denfert- Rochereau).

PARIS À VÉLO, C’EST SYMPA! Map

01 48 87 60 01; www.parisvelosympa.com, in French; 22 rue Alphonse Baudin, 11e; half-day/10hr/weekend/week €10/13/25/60; 9.30am-1pm & 2-6.30pm Mon-Fri, 9am-7pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct, 9.30am-1pm & 2-5.30pm Mon-Fri, 9.30am-6pm Sat & Sun Nov-Mar; St-Sébastien Froissart

Cringe-worthy name (‘Paris by Bike, it’s Nice!’), yes, but it rents tandems for the price of two bikes and organises great thematic bike tours around Paris. Deposit €250 (€600 for a tandem) with a credit card or your passport.

VÉLO CITO Map

01 42 73 60 21; 97 rue Mademoiselle, 15e; www.velocito.fr, in French; day €25; 9.30am-1pm & 2-6.30pm Mon-Fri, 9am-7pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct, 9.30am-1pm & 2-6pm Mon-Fri, 9am-6pm Sat & Sun Nov-Mar; Cambronne, Commerce & Vaugirard

The pedal-weary can opt for extra power with a smart electric bicycle to cruise around the city from this 15e outlet; rental is by the day only and you need to leave your passport as a deposit. Its Right-Bank branch (Map; 01 43 38 47 19; 7 rue St-Ambroise, 11e; St-Ambroise) shares the same hours. Both distribute an excellent free map (1:53:000) detailing some lovely pistes cyclables starting at RER stations around Paris.

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SKATING

Be it across Tarmac or ice, skating is big – Click here for street spots to catch entertaining free demos. See opposite for details of traffic-free streets to cruise down on Sundays.

In-line Skating

Serious bladers use the bus lanes; others scoot along pavements and cycling lanes. Up to 15,000 take part in the weekly randonnées en roller (skating rambles).

The 30km Pari Roller Ramble ( 01 43 36 89 81; www.pari-roller.com, in French) kicks off on place Raoul Dautry, 14e (Map; Montparnasse Bienvenüe) at 10pm Friday (arrive at 9.30pm), returning at 1am.

The Rollers & Coquillages Ramble ( 01 44 54 07 44; www.rollers-coquillages.org) afternoon skate departs from behind the Nomades bike shop (below) on Sunday at 2.30pm, returning around 5.30pm.

NOMADES Map

01 44 54 07 44; www.nomadeshop.com, in French; 37 blvd Bourdon, 4e; half-/full- day weekdays €5/8, weekends €6/9, weekend €15, 5 days Mon-Fri €23, full week €30; 11.30am-7.30pm Tue-Fri, 10am-7pm Sat, noon-6pm Sun; Bastille

Paris’ ‘Harrods for roller-heads’ rents and sells equipment and accessories, and gives courses at five different levels. Elbow and knee guards/helmets cost €1/2. Deposit of €150 or an identity card or passport.

Ice-Skating

From December to early March, the city maintains several pretty-as-a-picture outdoor patinoires de Noël (Christmas ice-skating rinks; www.paris.fr, in French). Access is free but patins/casques (skates/safety helmets) cost €5/3 to rent. Rinks include Patinoire de l’Hôtel de Ville (Map; 39 75; place de l’Hôtel de Ville, 4e; noon-10pm Mon-Thu, noon-midnight Fri, 9am-midnight Sat, 9am-10pm Sun; Hôtel de Ville) and Patinoire de Montparnasse (Map; 39 75; place Raoul Dautry, 14e; noon-8pm Mon-Fri, 9am-8pm Sat & Sun; Montparnasse Bienvenüe). The national library rink in the increasingly happening 13e, Patinoire de la Bibliothèque François Mitterand (cnr rue des Moulins & av de France; 9am-8pm late Dec–early Jan; Bibliothèque) opens for one month from late December to late January.

DJs turn Friday and Saturday evenings into something of an ice disco at the Patinoire Sonja Henie (Map; 01 40 02 60 60; www.bercy.fr, in French; 8 blvd de Bercy, 12e; adult/under 26yr €4/3, Fri & Sat €6/4, skate hire €3; 3-6pm Wed, 9.30pm-12.30am Fri, 9.30pm-12.30am Sat, 10am-noon & 3-6pm Sun Sep-May; Bercy), an indoor ice-skating rink in the Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy.

Art Deco in style, 800 sq metres in size and worth the trip is Patinoire Pailleron (Map; 01 47 20 27 70; 32 blvd Édouard Pailleron, 19e; adult before/after 8pm €4/6, carnet of 10 tickets before/after 8pm €34/26, skate hire €3; during school holidays except Jul & Aug noon-10pm Mon, Tue & Thu, 9am-10pm Wed, noon-midnight Fri, 9am-midnight Sat, 10am-6pm Sun; during term time noon-1.30pm & 4-10pm Mon, Tue & Thu, noon-10pm Wed, noon-1.30pm & 4pm-midnight Fri, noon-midnight Sat, 10am-6pm Sun), open year-round except July and August.

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BOULES & BOWLING

Don’t be surprised to see groups of earnest Parisians (usually men) playing boules (known as pétanque in southern France) France’s most popular traditional game, similar to lawn bowls – in the Jardin du Luxembourg (Map) and other parks and squares with suitably flat, shady patches of gravel. The Arènes de Lutèce boulodrome (www.arenesdelutece.com, in French) in a 2nd-century Roman amphitheatre in the Latin Quarter is a fabulous spot to absorb the scene. The player who tosses his boules (biased metal balls) nearest the small wooden cochonnet (jack) wins. Sports shops and supermarkets sell cheap sets of boules, should you have the urge to have a spin at it.

Come dark, tenpin bowling takes over. Prices for games depend on the time and day of the week. Among the best and/or most central alleys:

AMF BOWLING DE MONTPARNASSE Map

01 43 21 61 32; www.bowling-amf.com, in French; 25 rue du Commandant René Mouchotte, 14e; games €4.50-6, shoes €2; 10am-2am Sun-Thu, 10-4am Fri, 10-5am Sat; Montparnasse Bienvenüe

This centre, just opposite Gare Montparnasse, has 16 lanes.

BOWLING MOUFFETARD Map

01 43 31 09 35; www.bowling-mouffetard.abcsalles.com, in French; 13 rue Gracieuse & 73 rue Mouffetard, 5e; games €3.10-6.20, shoes €2; 3pm-2am Mon-Fri, 10am-2am Sat & Sun; Place Monge

Intimate, friendly place with eight lanes and two entrances; games are cheapest on weekday afternoons.

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TENNIS

Again, the Mairie de Paris ( 39 75, reservations 01 71 71 70 70; www.tennis.paris.fr; open court per hr adult/under 26yr €6.50/4, covered court €12.50/7) is the contact. The city runs some 170 covered and open tennis courts in dozens of locations (hours vary considerably); reserve by telephone or online. Courts include Luxembourg (Map; 01 43 25 79 18; Jardin du Luxembourg, 6e; Luxembourg); Candie (Map; 01 43 55 84 95; rue de Candie, 11e; Ledru Rollin); and Neuve St-Pierre (Map; 01 42 78 21 04; 5 rue Neuve St Pierre, 4e; St-Paul).

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SWIMMING

Paris has almost 40 public swimming pools. Most are short-length pools and finding a free lane to swim laps can be tricky. Opening times vary widely; Wednesday afternoon and weekends when kids are off school are the busiest. Unless noted otherwise, admission costs €2.60/21.50 for a single ticket/carnet of 10 and €1.50 a dip for Paris residents under 26 years.

Boys, no hiding what you don’t have: Bermuda and boxer shorts are a no-go in public pools. With the exception of nudist Roger Le Gall, men and boys must don a pair of skin-tight trunks (slips de bain). Most places also demand that everyone wears a bonnet (swimming hat), sold at most pools for a few euros.

FOREST HILL AQUABOULEVARD Map

01 40 60 10 00; www.aquaboulevard.com, in French; 4-6 rue Louis Armand, 15e; adult/child 3-11yr €20/10; 9am-11pm Mon-Thu, 9am-midnight Fri, 8am-midnight Sat, 8am-11pm Sun; Balard

Aquaboulevard delights with water slides and shutes, waterfalls and wave pools in its fun-filled tropical ‘beach’ and aquatic park. The less frivolous can keep fit with tennis, squash, golf, gym and dance classes. No children under 3 years; last admission is 9pm.

PISCINE DE LA BUTTE AUX CAILLES Map

01 45 89 60 05; 5 place Paul Verlaine, 13e; during school holidays 1-6pm Mon, 7am-7pm Tue & Wed, 7am-6pm Thu-Sat, 8am-6pm Sun; during term time 7am-8.30am, 11.30am-1.30pm & 4.30-7pm Tue, 7am-7pm Wed, 7am-8.30am & 11.30am-6.30pm Thu & Fri, 7am-8.30am & 10am-6.30pm Sat, 8am-6pm Sun; Place d’Italie

This positively stunning pool, built in 1924 and now a heritage listed building, takes advantage of the lovely warm water issuing from a nearby artesian well. Come summer, its two outdoor pools buzz with swimmers frolicking in the sun.

PISCINE JOSÉPHINE BAKER Map

01 56 61 96 50; quai François Mauriac, 13e; admission Jul & Aug adult/concession first 2hr €5/2.60, then per hr €5/2.60; 1-3pm & 5-9pm Mon & Thu, noon-5pm & 7pm-midnight Tue & Fri, 1-9pm Wed, 10am-8pm Sat & Sun; Bibliothèque or Quai de la Gare

Built over two years at a cost of €2 million, this striking piscine afloat the Seine is style indeed (named after the sensual 1920s Afro-American singer, what else could it be?). More of a spot to be seen than thrash laps, the two 25m by 10m pools lure Parisians like bees to a honey pot in summer when the roof slides back. Shut for work since November 2007, the 90m-long metallic barge should reopen in 2008.

PISCINE KELLER Map

01 45 71 81 00; 14 rue de l’Ingénieur Keller, 15e; adult/child €2.60/1.50; noon-10pm Mon & Fri, 7-8.30am & noon-10pm Tue & Thu, 7am-8pm Wed, 9am-9pm Sat, 9am-7pm Sun, slightly different hours during school holidays; Charles Michels

This brand-new indoor pool with state-of-the-art glass roof that slides back on warm days opened in mid-April and is a particular splash with Parisians keen to swim beneath the stars.

PISCINE PONTOISE Map

01 55 42 77 88; 19 rue de Pontoise, 5e; adult/concession €3.70/2.20, 10-entry carnet €30.20/19.40; during school holidays 7-8.30am & 11am-11.45pm Mon, 7am-7.30pm & 8.15-11.45pm Tue & Thu, 7-8.30am, 11.30am-7.30pm & 8.15pm-11.45pm Wed, 7-8.30am, 11am-8pm & 9-11.45pm Fri, 10am-7pm Sat, 8am-7pm Sun, shorter hr during term time; Maubert Mutualité

A beautiful Art Deco–style indoor pool in the heart of the Latin Quarter, Piscine Pontoise measures 33m by 15m and offers a €9 ticket for all in the evening, covering entry to the pool, gym and sauna.

PISCINE ROGER LE GALL Map

01 44 73 81 12; 34 blvd Carnot, 12e; during school holidays 10am-8pm Mon, Tue, Thu & Fri, 8am-9pm Wed, 10am-7pm Sat, 8am-7pm Sun; during term time noon-2pm & 5-8pm Mon, Tue & Thu, noon-2pm & 5-9pm Fri, noon-7pm Sat, 8am-7pm Sun; Porte de Vincennes

With its grassy lawns to lounge about on and twin-set of pools, indoor and out, many readers reckon this is Paris’ best (blvd Périphérique is a tad close for our comfort). It is notably the only public naturiste pool in Paris where you can swim nude. In July and August admission costs more.

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SPECTATOR SPORT

Depending on what time of year you’re here, this is the city to see all types of matches and events. Sports daily L’Équipe (www.lequipe.fr, in French), and entertainment and activities supplement Figaroscope (www.figaroscope.fr, in French; published every Wednesday in Le Figaro), can tell you what’s on; as can box offices – which sell tickets for most sports events – situated inside branches of Fnac and Virgin Megastore for bigger events. Or follow the ‘what’s on’ link at http://en.parisinfo.com.

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FOOTBALL

Paris’ magnificent Stade de France (tickets €20 to €100), north of the centre in St-Denis, is where France’s home matches kick off.

The city’s only top-division football team, Paris-St-Germain ( 01 47 43 71 71; www.psg.fr), wears red and blue and plays its home games at the 48,500-seat Parc des Princes (Map; 32 75, 01 47 43 72 56; www.leparcdesprinces.fr; 24 rue du Commandant Guilbaud, 16e; tickets €20-80; box office 9am-7pm Mon-Fri & 3hr before match; Porte de St-Cloud), built in 1970.

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RUGBY

When at home Paris-based team Stade Français CASG ( 01 40 71 71 00; www.stade.fr) plays north at the small Stade Jean Bouin (Map; 01 46 51 00 75; 26 av du Général Sarrail, 16e; tickets €5-35; box office 11am-2pm & 3-7pm Tue-Fri, 2-7pm Mon & Sat; Exelmans) and occasionally at the Stade de France. The finals of the Championnat de France de Rugby take place in late May and early June.

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TENNIS

By far the glitziest annual sporting event in Paris is the French Open, the second of four Grand Slam tennis tournaments, held on clay at the 16,500-seatStade Roland Garros (Map; box office 08 25 16 75 16, from abroad +33 1 47 43 52 52; www.rolandgarros.com, in French; 2 av Gordon Bennett, 16e; Porte d’Auteuil) in the Bois de Boulogne from late May to mid-June. Tickets are expensive and like gold dust; they go on sale mid-November and bookings must be made by March. One week prior to the competition (on the first day of the qualifiers), remaining tickets are sold from the box office ( 9.30am-5.30pm Mon-Fri) at the entrance to the stadium.

The top indoor tournament is the Paris Tennis Open, usually held in late October or early November at the Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy (Map; 01 40 02 60 60, box office 08 92 39 01 00; www.bercy.fr, in French; 8 blvd de Bercy, 12e; Bercy).

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CYCLING

Joining the tens of thousands of spectators along the av des Champs-Élysées to watch the final leg of the world’s most prestigious cycling race, the three-week Tour de France (www.letour.fr), is a must for those in Paris towards the end of July.

The 3000km-long route changes each year, but three things remain constant: the inclusion of the Alps, the Pyrenees and, since 1974, the race finish on av des Champs-Élysées. The final day varies from year to year but is usually the 3rd or 4th Sunday in July, with the race finishing some time in the afternoon. If you want to see this exciting event, find a spot at the barricades before noon.

Track cycling, a sport at which France excels, is held in the velodrome of the Palais Omnisports de Paris-Bercy (Map; 01 40 02 60 60; www.bercy.fr, in French; 8 blvd de Bercy, 12e; Bercy).

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HORSE RACING

Spend a cheap afternoon relaxing at the races with Parisians of all ages, backgrounds and walks of life. The easiest racecourse to get to is Hippodrome d’Auteuil (Map; 01 40 71 47 47; www.france-galop.com; Champ de Courses d’Auteuil, Bois de Boulogne, 16e; Porte d’Auteuil), host to steeplechases six times a month from February to late June or early July, and early September to early December. Standing on the lawn in the middle of the track is free, but a seat in the stands costs €3 or €4 (under 18s free).


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GAY & LESBIAN PARIS EATING


EATING
DRINKING & NIGHTLIFE
    LOUVRE & LES HALLES
    MARAIS & BASTILLE
SLEEPING
FURTHER RESOURCES



top picks
 






What’s your recommendation? www.lonelyplanet.com/paris



France is one of Europe’s most liberal countries when it comes to homosexuality – in part because of the long French tradition of public tolerance towards groups of people who choose not to live by conventional social codes – and Paris is the epicentre.

While certainly not London, New York or even Berlin, the French capital is home to thriving gay and lesbian communities, and same-sex couples are a common sight on its streets, especially in the Marais district of the 4e. In 1999 the government enacted PACS (Pacte Civile de Solidarité) legislation, designed to give homosexual couples some of the legal protection (eg inheritance rights) it extends to married heterosexuals (though it falls well short of the laws since codified in Spain and the UK). In May 2001, Paris elected Bertrand Delanoë, a European capital’s first openly gay mayor. He was returned to office for a second term in March 2008.

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EATING

AUX TROIS ÉLÉPHANTS Map    Thai €€

01 42 33 53 64; 36 rue Tiquetonne, 2e; starters €7-12.50, mains €10-19.50; dinner to 11.30pm; Étienne Marcel

In a street where each restaurant is more original than the next, ‘At the Three Elephants’ takes the tart. Customers – a very mixed bag – are plunged into a highly exotic world where the extravagant ‘hostesses’ are equal to the dishes on offer. The subtle flavours of the yum plameuk (squid salad) and the homok pla (steamed fish served in a banana leaf; €10) are both excellent choices.

VILLA PAPILLON Map    Thai €€

01 42 21 44 83; 15 rue Tiquetonne, 2e; starters €7-9.50, mains €13-20; dinner to 11pm Mon-Fri, to 11.30pm Sat & Sun; Étienne Marcel

Offering Aux Trois Éléphants (see above) some very stiff competition is this new and relatively authentic Thai eatery just across rue Tiquetonne. Try the duck with Thai basil and the prawns cooked in Musulman-style curry. Lovely staff.

LE GAI MOULIN Map    French €€

01 48 87 06 00; www.le-gai-moulin.com, in French; 10 rue St-Merri, 4e; menus €12.90-20.90; dinner till midnight daily; Rambuteau

The much expanded ‘Gay Mill’ (we don’t get it either – unless they mean ‘rumours’) serves ‘classic but honest’ French cuisine, including decently priced set menus, to a mainly (but not exclusively) gay clientele. With the tables this close, there’s no chance of not making a friend or two between (or even during) courses. We love the piano bar downstairs on Tuesday evenings.

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DRINKING & NIGHTLIFE

The Marais (4e), especially those areas around the intersection of rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie and rue des Archives, and eastwards to rue Vieille du Temple, has been Paris’ main centre of gay nightlife for over two decades. There are also a few bars and clubs within walking distance of blvd de Sébastopol. Other venues are scattered throughout the city.

The lesbian scene here is much less public than its gay counterpart, and centres around a few cafés and bars in the Marais.

In Paris, the need for exclusiveness appears to be relaxing – as is the general public’s mentality towards homosexuality. Clubs are generally all gay friendly, while specifically gay venues are increasingly mixing things up – becoming some of the coolest spots in Paris. The bars and clubs listed here are almost exclusively gay or lesbian. For mixed clubs, see the Nightlife & the Arts chapter Click here.

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LOUVRE & LES HALLES

LE TROISIÈME LIEU Map    Bar

01 48 04 85 64; 62 rue Quincampoix, 4e; 6pm-2am Tue-Sun; Rambuteau

This friendly bar is a popular place for chic young lesbians and, at times, for everyone else. There’s a large, colourful bar and big wooden tables at street level, with good-value canteen meals. The vaulted cellar below leaves space for dancing to DJs, rock/alternative music concerts and live singers. On the last Saturday of the month it opens at 2pm.

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MARAIS & BASTILLE

3W KAFÉ Map    Bar

01 48 87 39 26; www.3w-kafe.com, in French; 8 rue des Écouffes, 4e; 5.30pm-2am; St-Paul

This glossy lesbian cocktail bar is the flagship venue on a street with several dyke bars. It’s relaxed and elegant and there’s no ban on men. If you’re looking for something a bit more hardcore and ‘exclusive’, head for the 3W’s sister-bar Les Jacasses (Map; 01 42 71 15 51; 5 rue des Écouffes, 4e; 5pm-2am Tue-Sun; St-Paul) just opposite.

INTERFACE BAR Map    Bar

01 47 00 67 15; 34 rue Keller, 11e; 3pm-2am; Ledru Rollin

No, not ‘In yer face’… This is a laid-back gay bar that attracts locals and habitués of the nearby Gay & Lesbian Centre. Unusualyl for a gay bar in Paris, it attracts customers in the afternoon and early evening, especially during happy hour (6pm to 9pm).

LE COX Map    Bar

01 42 72 08 00; www.cox.fr, in French; 15 rue des Archives, 4e; noon-2am Mon-Fri, 1pm-2am Sat & Sun; Hôtel de Ville

This small gay bar has become the meeting place for an interesting (and maybe interested) and cruisy crowd throughout the evening from 6pm. OK, we don’t like the in-your-face name either, but what’s a boy to do? Happy hour is 6pm to 9pm daily and the décor – be it a farm, be it a casino, be it a rodeo – changes every quarter.

LE QUETZAL Map    Bar

01 48 87 99 07; 10 rue de la Verrerie, 4e; 5pm-5am; Hôtel de Ville

This perennial favourite gay bar – one of the first in the Marais – is opposite rue des Mauvais Garçons (Bad Boys’ Street), a road named after the brigands who congregated here in 1540. It’s always busy, with house and dance music playing at night, and cruisy at all hours. During happy hour (5pm to 9pm) a pint costs €3.60.

LE SCARRON Map    Bar

01 42 77 44 05; www.lescarron.com, in French; 3 rue Geoffroy l’Angevin, 4e; 10pm-6am Wed-Sat; Rambuteau

This rather chic bar de nuit (night bar) hots up as the evening progresses, especially in the vaulted basement. There’s a rather subdued piano bar on the ground floor much more suited (key word) to quiet conversation.

AMNÉSIA Map    Bar-Café

01 42 72 16 94; 42 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 11am-2am; Hôtel de Ville

In the heart of the Marais, cosy, warmly lit Amnésia is an institution not easy to forget. Friendly and stylish, it remains resolutely popular with gay guys but is more mixed than many of its counterparts. There’s an attractive lounge area upstairs and a tiny dance floor in the cave (wine cellar) downstairs with DJ music from the 1980s and 90s.

LITTLE CAFÉ Map    Bar-Café

01 48 87 43 36; 62 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; 10am-2am; St-Paul

Run by some of the eminent ladies from the much missed lesbian club Le Pulp on the Grands Boulevards, this modern wine bar-café is a new local favourite, with great coffee and meals. The clientele is relaxed, mixed and street smart, with a penchant for electronic music and good wine.

L’OPEN CAFÉ Map    Bar-Café

01 42 72 26 18; www.opencafe.fr; 17 rue des Archives, 4e; 11am-2am Sun-Thu, 11am-4am Fri & Sat; Hôtel de Ville

Until recently this Marais institution was the place for gay men of all ages to head after work, but the action seems to have shifted a few doors southwards to the Cox bar (left). Still, L’Open’s large terrace and daytime schedule are drawing cards, as is the four-hour happy ‘hour’ starting at 6pm.

NYX Map    Bar-Café

01 42 78 71 55; 30 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; 5pm-2am Sun-Thu, 5pm-4am Fri & Sat; St-Paul

This lesbian café and lounge bar at the corner of rue des Écouffes (in what was once a boulangerie-patisserie) has a stylish vibe and an upbeat crowd. There’s a DJ club downstairs that operates on Friday and Saturday nights.

LE DÉPÔT Map    Club

01 44 54 96 96; www.ledepot.com, in French; 10 rue aux Ours, 3e; admission €8.50-12.50; 2pm-8am; Rambuteau or Étienne Marcel

With a cop shop just next door you’d think this strictly men-only bar and club over three floors would be a titch more subdued. Fat (actually, rather buffed) chance. It proudly waves its gay flag just metres from the red, white and blue ones of the commissariat (police station) and is perhaps just as much of an institution. It’s a major men’s pick-up joint, with theme nights, DJs and notorious backrooms.

RAIDD BAR Map    Club

01 42 77 05 13; www.raiddbar.com; 23 rue du Temple, 4e; 5.30pm-5am; Hôtel de Ville

This is a club-bar that takes its cue from Splash in New York, with showering go-go boys behind glass and a terrace on which to cool off. It’s a pretty attitude-y place and the drinks aren’t cheap, but that’s New York for you. Happy hour daily 5pm to 10pm.

TANGO Map    Club

01 42 72 17 78; www.boite-a-frissons.fr; 13 rue au Maire, 3e; admission €7; 10.30pm-5am Fri & Sat, 6pm-midnight; Arts et Métiers

Billing itself as a boîte à frissons (quivering club), Au Tango brings in a mixed and cosmopolitan gay and lesbian crowd. Housed in a historic 1930s dancehall, its atmosphere and style is retro and festive. Dancing gets going when it opens at 10.30pm with waltzing, salsa and tango. From about 12.30am onwards DJs play. Sunday’s gay tea dance is legendary.

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SLEEPING

HÔTEL CENTRAL MARAIS Map    Hotel

01 48 87 56 08; www.hotelcentralmarais.com; 2 rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; s & d from €89, tr €109; Hôtel de Ville;

This small hotel in the centre of gay Paris caters essentially for gay men, though lesbians are also welcome. It’s in a lovely 17th-century building and its seven rooms are spread over several floors; there is no lift. Also, there is only one bathroom for every two rooms, though the room on the 5th floor has an en suite bathroom and toilet. Reception, which is on the 1st floor, is open from 8am to 5pm; after that check in around the corner at Le Central Bar (Map; 01 48 87 99 33; 33 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; 4pm-2am Mon-Fri, 2pm-2am Sat & Sun; Hôtel de Ville), which is the oldest (in every sense) gay bar still open in Paris.

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FURTHER RESOURCES

Most of France’s major gay organisations are based in Paris. If you require a more complete list than we are able to provide here, pick up a copy of Genres, an almost-annual listing of gay, lesbian, bisexual and transsexual organisations, at the Centre Gai et Lesbien de Paris Île de France (below) or consult Le Petit Futé Paris Gay et Lesbien guide (opposite).

 
  • Act Up Paris ( 01 48 06 13 89; www.actupparis.org, in French) Meetings open to the public are held every Tuesday at 7.30pm at the École des Beaux-Arts (Map; Amphithéâtre des Loges, 14 rue Bonaparte, 6e; St-Germain des Prés).
  • Association des Médecins Gais (AMG; 01 48 05 81 71; www.medecins-gays.org, in French) The Association of Gay Doctors deals with gay-related health issues. Telephone advice on physical-health issues is available from 6pm to 8pm on Wednesday and 2pm to 4pm on Saturday. For counselling, call between 8.30pm and 10.30pm Thursday.
  • Centre Gai et Lesbien de Paris Île de France (CGL; Map; 01 43 57 21 47; www.cglparis.org, in French; 63 rue Beaubourg, 3e; 6-8pm Mon, 3-8pm Tue & Thu, 12.30-8pm Wed, Fri & Sat, 4-8pm Sun; Rambuteau or Arts et Métiers) The Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual and Transsexual Centre, now in spanking-new premises just north of the Centre Pompidou, is your single best source of information in Paris. The large library of gay books and periodicals is open from 3pm to 8pm on Wednesday and 3pm to 6pm on Friday.
  • Écoute Gaie ( 0 810 811 057; www.france.qrd.org/assocs/ecoute-gaie, in French; 6-10pm Mon-Fri) Established in 1982, this is the oldest hotline for gays and lesbians in Paris.
  • SOS Homophobie ( 0 810 108 135, 01 48 06 42 41; www.sos-homophobie.org; 6-10pm Mon, Fri & Sun, 8-10pm Tue-Thu, 2-4pm Sat) This hotline takes anonymous calls concerning discriminatory acts against gays and lesbians.

Of gay and lesbian publications, Têtu (www.tetu.com, in French; €5) is a popular and widely circulating glossy monthly available at newsstands everywhere. Be on the lookout for bimonthly freebies like 2X (www.2xparis.fr) and Mâles-a-Bars (www.males-a-bars.com, in French), which have interviews and articles (in French) and listings of gay clubs, bars, associations and personal classifieds. You’ll find them stacked up at most gay venues. The monthly magazine Lesbia (€4.10), established almost 20 years ago, looks at lesbian women’s issues and gives a rundown of what’s happening around the country. Also for women, La Dixiәme Muse (The 10th Muse; www.ladixiememuse.com, in French; €4.20) is more culturally oriented.

The following guidebooks list pubs, restaurants, clubs, beaches, saunas, sex shops and cruising areas; they are available from Les Mots à la Bouche bookshop Click here.

 
  • Dyke Guide: Le Guide Lesbien (www.dykeguide.com, in French; €13;) The essential French-language guide for girls on the go in France and Paris.
  • Le Petit Futé Paris Gay et Lesbien (www.petitfute.com, in French; €14) A French-language guide that goes well beyond pursuits hedonistic, with political, cultural, religious and health listings along with bars and restaurants. Highly recommended.
  • Paris Gayment (www.parigramme.com, in French; €6) A French-language, 110-page sourcebook from the ones behind Paris Est à Nous pocket books about various aspects of life in the French capital and contains just about every address of interest to ‘girls who love girls and boys who love boys and their friends’.
  • Spartacus International Gay Guide (www.spartacusworld.com; €28.95) A male-only guide to just about every country in the world, with more than 80 pages devoted to France, half of which cover Paris.

Among some of the better gay and lesbian websites include:

 
  • Dyke Planet (www.dykeplanet.com, in French) The best French-language website for gay women.
  • Gay France (www.gayfrance.fr, in French) Lots and lots of male-to-male chat and classifieds.
  • La France Gaie & Lesbienne (www.france.qrd.org, in French) ‘Queer resources directory’ for gays and lesbians.
  • Le Gay Paris (www.legayparis.fr) Not unlike Paris Gay (see below) but slightly more up to date.
  • Paris Gay (www.paris-gay.com) Decent overview of what’s up and what’s on in the French capital.

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SLEEPING


    ACCOMMODATION STYLES
    RESERVATIONS
    ROOM RATES
LOUVRE & LES HALLES
MARAIS & BASTILLE
    ALSO RECOMMENDED
THE ISLANDS
LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES
ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG
    ALSO RECOMMENDED
MONTPARNASSE
FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES
EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT
ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES
CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE
OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS
GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE
GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY
13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN
15E ARRONDISSEMENT
MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE



top picks
 

Paris has a very wide choice of accommodation options, counting some 76,500 beds in 1480 establishments that cater for all budgets throughout much of the city. There are four basic types: deluxe and top-end hotels, some of which count among the finest in the world; midrange hotels, many of which have personalities all of their own, and by and large offer very good value when compared with similarly priced places to stay in other European capitals; adequate but generally uninspiring budget hotels; and hostels, which run the gamut from cramped, airless cupboards to party places with bars worth a visit in their own right. In this chapter, accommodation options are listed according to the sections of the city as outlined in the Neighbourhoods chapter and appear in budget order, with the most expensive first. Prices are given for rooms with bathrooms unless otherwise noted.

The city of Paris levies a taxe de séjour (tourist tax) of between €0.20 (camp sites, ‘NN’ or unclassified hotels) and €1.50 (four-star hotels) per person per night on all forms of accommodation.

A note on the icons used in this chapter: Most hotels and hostels in Paris have some form of internet access available nowadays. We have included an internet icon ( ) only if the hotel has wi-fi (pronounced wee-fee in French) or allows guests to use a terminal in the lobby or reception area. Some establishments (usually hostels) charge their guests an access fee for this service, which we have usually noted in the review text.

Most hotels with two or more stars in Paris are equipped with a lift but not much more for those in wheelchairs. In this chapter most of the hotels marked with a wheelchair icon ( ) have one or two guestrooms fully equipped for disabled guests (bathrooms big enough for a wheelchair user to turn around in, access door on bath tubs, grip bars alongside toilets etc) though we’ve included a few with guestrooms on the rez-de-chaussée (ground floor) that can be accessed by anyone in a wheelchair and may serve at a pinch.

For information about the use of the non-smoking icon ( ), boxed text.

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ACCOMMODATION STYLES

Apartments & Flats

If you are interested in renting a furnished flat for anything from a night to a month, consult one of the many agencies listed under the heading ‘Furnished Rentals’ in the ‘Hotels & Accommodation’ section of the Paris Convention & Visitors Bureau (www.parisinfo.com) website. Accommodation for students and organisations that arrange it are listed under ‘Young Paris’.


WHERE THERE’S SMOKE
The smoking ban that France put in place nationwide in January 2008 Click here includes all public areas where people congregate – bars, restaurants, night clubs, hotel lobbies etc. It does not extend to hotel guestrooms in hotels, which are considered private rentals in France. Thus nonsmokers will continue to have to request smoke-free rooms. In this chapter the names of hotels bearing a nonsmoking icon ( ) really do have at least a handful of rooms – in the case of several, entire floors – reserved for those who do not smoke. They are not just places that make claims to ‘airing out our rooms thoroughly after guests’ use’.

Websites of commercial agencies that let studios and apartments to visitors, and have been recommended by both readers and Lonely Planet staff members, include the following half-dozen:

 

For information about longer-term apartment and flat rentals in Paris, Click here.

SERVICED APARTMENTS

Serviced apartments – like staying in a hotel without a lot of the extras – are an excellent option for those staying longer than a week, particularly if you’re part of a small group, and don’t feel like emptying the trash yourself. There are quite a few of them around Paris; for a partial listing see the boxed text.


APARTMENTS AT YOUR SERVICE
The following are among the three most popular chains of serviced apartments in Paris.
Apart’hotels Citadines ( 0 825 333 332, from abroad 01 41 05 79 05; www.citadines.com; ) This fabulously successful (now international) chain has 17 properties in Paris, including those listed below. Prices vary depending on the season and the location but, in general, a small studio for two with fully equipped kitchen (fridge, microwave, dishwasher, crockery and cutlery) for just under a week costs from €103 to €289 per night and a one-bedroom flat sleeping four costs €175 to €462. For stays longer than six days there’s a discount of 10% to 15%, and for 30 days or more about 20% to 25%. Central branches include: Bastille Nation (Map; 01 40 04 43 50; [email protected]; 14-18 rue de Chaligny, 12e; Reuilly Diderot); Les Halles (Map; 01 40 39 26 50; [email protected]; 4 rue des Innocents, 1er; Châtelet-Les Halles); Maine Montparnasse (Map; 01 53 91 27 00; [email protected]; 67 av du Maine, 14e; Gaîté); Montmartre (Map; 01 44 70 45 50; [email protected]; 16 av Rachel, 18e; Blanche); Opéra Grands Boulevards (Map; 01 40 15 14 00; [email protected]; 18 rue Favart, 2e; Richelieu Drouot); St-Germain des Prés (Map; 01 44 07 70 00; [email protected]; 53ter quai des Grands Augustins, 6e; St-Michel); and La Tour Eiffel (Map; 01 53 95 60 00; [email protected]; 132 blvd de Grenelle, 15e; La Motte Picquet Grenelle).
Residences FranceLoc ( 04 92 28 38 48; www.franceloc.fr; ) Formally known as France Location (France Rental), this chain has serviced apartments throughout France, including two in Paris. Daily prices quoted here are for up to seven nights’ stay; there is a discount of 10% from eight to 27 nights and 20% after that. Résidence Le St-Germain (Map; 01 46 34 22 33; [email protected]; 16 rue Boutebrie, 5e; 2-person studio €93-119, 4-person apt €143-158; St-Michel) has 11 fully equipped studios and apartments for between two and six people measuring from 17 to 55 sq metres. Résidence Passage Dubail (Map; 01 44 89 66 70; [email protected]; 5-7 Passage Dubail, 10e; 2-person studio €89, 4-person apt €139; Gare de l’Est) has studios and apartments measuring 16 to 30 sq metres, accommodating up to four people.
Adagio City Aparthotel ( 0 825 040 608; www.adagio-city.com; Filles du Calvaire; ) Called Résidences Pierre & Vacances until recently, Adagio counts some 10 properties in greater Paris, including the Adagio Montmartre City Aparthotel (Map; 10 place Charles Dullin, 18e; [email protected]; 2/3/4 person studios €131/144/169, 1/2 bed apt €205/259; Abbesses), an attractive résidence at the end of a leafy street in the heart of Montmartre with 76 studios and apartments for between two and six people. There’s a 10% discount on stays of eight nights or more, and 20% on stays of 28 days or more.

Hotels

Hotels in Paris are inspected by authorities at département (administrative division of France) level and classified into six categories – from no star to four-star ‘L’ (for luxe), the French equivalent of five stars. All hotels must display their rates, including TVA (VAT; valued-added tax) both outside the hotel and in guests’ rooms.

Paris may not be able to boast the number of budget hotels it did a decade or so ago, but the choice is still more than ample, especially in the Marais, around the Bastille, near the major train stations and off the Grands Boulevards. Places with one star and those with the designations ‘HT’ (Hôtel de Tourisme) or ‘NN’ (Nouvelle Norme), which signifies that a hotel is awaiting its rating but remains of a certain standard of comfort, are much of a muchness. Remember: the overall consideration at these places is cost, never quality. Be advised that some budget hotels in Paris do not accept credit cards.

Breakfast – usually a simple continental affair of bread, croissants, butter, jam and coffee or tea, though American-style breakfast buffets are becoming more popular – is served at most hotels with two or more stars and usually costs around €8.

Some hotels in Paris have different rates according to the season and are noted as such throughout the chapter. The high season is (roughly) from April to September while the low season is from October to March. There are usually bargains to be had during the late autumn (say, November) and winter months (January and February).

Hostels

Paris is awash with hostels, but such budget accommodation isn’t as cheap as it used to be here. Beds under €25 are increasingly rare – especially in summer – so two people who don’t mind sleeping in the same bed may find basic rooms in budget hotels a less-expensive proposition. Groups of three or four will save even more if they share two or three beds in a budget hotel.

Showers are always free at hostels in Paris, and rates include a simple breakfast. Internet access (from about €1 for 15 minutes) is available at almost all the hostels listed here. If you don’t have your own sheet bag, sheets can be rented at most hostels for a one-off charge of around €3 (plus deposit).

Some of the more institutional hostels only allow guests to stay a maximum of three nights, particularly in summer. Places that have upper age limits (for example, 30 years old) tend not to enforce them except at the busiest of times. Only the official auberges de jeunesse (youth hostels), of which there are just two in all of Paris, require guests to present Hostelling International (HI) cards or their equivalent. Curfew – if enforced – is generally at 1am or 2am.

Homestays & B&Bs

Under an arrangement known as hôtes payants (literally ‘paying guests’) or hébergement chez l’habitant (lodging with the occupants of private homes), students, young people and tourists can stay with French families. In general you rent a room and, for an additional fee, have access to the family’s kitchen in the evening. Half and full board is also usually available. For a list of homestay venues see opposite. Some private language schools Click here can arrange homestays for their students.

Bed-and-breakfast (B&B) accommodation – known as chambres d’hôte in French – has never been anywhere near as popular in Paris as it has been in, say, London but that is changing. The city of Paris has inaugurated a scheme called Paris Quality Hosts (www.hqp.fr) to encourage Parisians to rent out their spare rooms. The idea is not just to offer visitors an alternative choice of accommodation but to ease the isolation of some Parisians, half of whom apparently live alone. Expect to pay anything from €65 a double. Most hosts will expect you to stay a minimum of three or four nights.

The following B&Bs are all members of the Paris Quality Hosts initiative. At least two have been recommended by readers.

 

Longer-term Rentals

Small (15 to 30 sq metres) studios with attached toilet in central Paris start at about €20 per sq metre per month; expect to pay from about €800 for a one-bedroom flat and €600 for a studio. The per-metre cost theoretically decreases the larger the place, the further away it is from the city centre and if it is a walk-up (ie does not have access to a lift).

Under €500 a month will get you a tiny garret room with a washbasin but no landline telephone, proper cooking facilities or private toilet. There may not even be a communal shower. These rooms, often occupied by students, are usually converted chambres de bonne (maid’s quarters) on the 6th or 7th floors of old apartment buildings without lifts, but in decent neighbourhoods.

The hardest time to find an apartment – especially a cheap one – in Paris is in September and October, when everyone is back from their summer holidays and students are searching for digs for the academic year. Moderately priced places are easiest to find towards the end of university semesters – ie between Christmas and early February and July to September.

If you’ve exhausted your word-of-mouth sources (expats, students, compatriots living temporarily in Paris), it’s a good idea to check out the bulletin boards at the American Church. People who advertise there are more likely to rent to foreigners, will usually speak at least some English and might be willing to offer a relatively short-term contract. Fusac Click here, a free periodical issued every two weeks, is another good source.

If you know some French (or someone who does), you’ll be able to consult several periodicals available from newsagents: the weekly De Particulier à Particulier (www.pap.fr; €2.95) appears on Thursday, while the biweeklies À Vendre, à Louer (www.avendrealouer.fr, in French; €1.50) and Se Loger (www.seloger.com; €2.30) come out on Monday and Thursday respectively. You’ll have to do your calling in French, though. If you have access to a phone, you could place a want ad in De Particulier à Particulier and have people call you.


FAMILY AFFAIR
Popular with students learning French are pensions de famille, which are similar to B&Bs but more intimate. In 1970 there were some 400 scattered around the city; today there are a mere nine family guesthouses. Four that come recommended by the Paris tourist office are the following:
 
  • Pension au Palais Gourmand (Map; 01 45 48 24 15; www.au-palais-gourmand.fr; 3rd fl, 120 blvd Raspail, 6e; s & d €72.50-82.50, tr €107; Vavin or Notre Dame des Champs) The promisingly named ‘At the Gourmet Palace’ is on a busy street between the Jardin du Luxembourg and Montparnasse and is convenient to everything. Lunch or dinner is €13. Breakfast is included.
  • Pension les Marronniers (Map; 01 43 26 37 71; www.pension-marronniers.com; 78 rue d’Assas, 6e; s €40-67, d €74-84; Vavin or Notre Dame des Champs; ) In a pretty building facing the Jardin du Luxembourg, it has monthly rates at 20% less. Vegetarian meals and ones for those on special diets are also available. Rates included breakfast, as well as the use of microwave, fridge, washing machine and wi-fi.
  • Résidence des Palais (Map; 01 43 26 79 32; www.hotelresidencedupalais.com; 2nd fl, 78 rue d’Assas, 6e; s/d/tr/q €56/63/78/110; Vavin or Notre Dame des Champs) This luxurious place is in the same building as the Pension Les Marroniers. Rates are cheaper after four days and still cheaper after a week. Breakfast is included.
  • Résidence Cardinal (Map; 01 48 74 16 16; http://pensioncardinal.free.fr, in French; 2nd fl, 4 rue Cardinal Mercier, 9e; s/d/t €40/55/75; Liège or Place de Clichy) This place is on a quiet street with an old fountain at the end of it. Doubles with shower and toilet are €10 pricier. Rates include breakfast.

Allô Logement Temporaire (Map; 01 42 72 00 06; www.allo-logement-temporaire.asso.fr; 1st fl, 64 rue du Temple, 3e; noon-8pm Mon-Fri; Rambuteau) is a nonprofit organisation that links property-owners and foreigners looking for furnished apartments for periods of one week to one year. Small furnished studios of 15 to 18 sq metres cost around €600 per month while double that size is about €800, depending on the location. October, when university classes resume, is the hardest month to find a place, but over summer and into September it’s usually possible to rent something within a matter of days. Before any deals are signed, the company will arrange for you to talk to the owner by phone, assisted by an interpreter if necessary. There is a €55 annual membership fee and, in addition to the rent and one month’s deposit (paid directly to the owner), you’ll pay a charge of €35 for each month you rent.

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RESERVATIONS

During periods of heavy domestic or foreign tourism – Christmas and New Year, the winter school holidays (February to March), Easter, July and August – a hotel reservation can mean the difference between a bed in a room and a bench in the park. For really popular places – think location and/or price – book several months ahead.

Many hotels, especially budget ones, accept reservations only if they are accompanied by des arrhes (a deposit). Some places, especially those with two or more stars, don’t ask for a deposit if you give them your credit card number or if you send them confirmation of your plans by letter, fax or email in French or clear, simple English.

Most independent hotels will hold a room only until a set hour, rarely later than 6pm or 7pm without prior arrangement. If you’re arriving later than expected and you haven’t prepaid or given the hotel your credit-card details, let the staff know or they might rent your room to someone else.

The Paris Convention & Visitors Bureau (Office de Tourisme et de Congrès de Paris), particularly the Gare du Nord branch Click here can find you a place to stay for the night of the day you stop by and will make the booking for free. The only catch is that you have to use a credit card to reserve a room Be warned: the queues can be very long in the high season.

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ROOM RATES

When calculating accommodation costs, assume you’ll spend from about a minimum of €40 for a washbasin-equipped double in a budget hotel (count on anything up to at least €70 if you want your own shower). Bear in mind that you may be charged extra (up to €3) to use communal showers in budget hotels. If you can’t go without your daily ablutions, it can be a false economy staying at such places.

Midrange hotels in Paris offer some of the best value for money of any European capital city. Hotels at this level always have bathroom facilities (showers or baths) unless noted otherwise. These hotels charge between €70 and €160 for a double and generally offer excellent value, especially at the higher end.

Top-end places run the gamut from tasteful and discreet boutique hotels to palaces with 100plus rooms and will cost two people €160 or more a night. And brace yourself at the very top end of the range; according to a comparison done by the Wall Street Journal of the price of a Saturday night in the most expensive suite of a five-star (in this case four-star ‘L’) hotel in eight cities around the world, Paris came out tops at €7600 (followed by New York at €6641, Tokyo at €5450 and London at €5334).

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LOUVRE & LES HALLES

The area encompassing the Musée du Louvre and the Forum des Halles, effectively the 1er and a small slice of the 2e, is very central but don’t expect to find tranquillity or many bargains here. But while it is more disposed to welcoming top-end travellers, there are some decent midrange places to choose from and the main branch of a popular hostel can also be found here.

Both airports are linked to nearby metro station Châtelet-Les Halles by the RER (Réseau Express Régional – regional train service).

HÔTEL MEURICE Map    Hotel €€€

01 44 58 10 10; www.meuricehotel.com; 228 rue de Rivoli, 1er; s €620, d €730-910, ste from €990; Tuileries;

With 160 rooms, many of them facing the Jardin des Tuileries, the Meurice’s gold leaf and Art Nouveau glass positively glisten, and its ground-floor restaurant, Le Meurice, is a mainstay of good taste (in more ways than one). The domed Le Dali restaurant with its astonishing canvas and whimsical furnishings, is a light-hearted addition to this otherwise bastion of tasteful reserve.


BOOK ACCOMMODATION ONLINE
For more accommodation reviews and recommendations by Lonely Planet authors, check out the online booking service at www.lonelyplanet.com. You’ll find the true, insider lowdown on the best places to stay. Reviews are thorough and independent. Best of all, you can book online.

HÔTEL RITZ PARIS Map     Hotel €€€

01 43 16 30 30; www.ritzparis.com; 15 place Vendôme, 1er; s & d €730-880, ste from €970; Opéra;

So famous it’s lent its name to the English lexicon, the incomparable, the unmistakable Ritz has 161 sparkling rooms and suites. Its L’Espadon restaurant has a Michelin star and the Hemingway Bar is where the American author imbibed once he’d made a name for himself. It’s equally celebrated for its cooking school Click here.

HÔTEL COSTES Map    Hotel €€€

01 42 44 50 00; www.hotelcostes.com; 239 rue St-Honoré, 1er; s & d €400-850, ste from €1250; Concorde;

Jean-Louis Costes’ eponymous caravanserai remains an ‘extravagant luxury hotel popular with the jet-set’ (or so says Michelin). Outfitted in the signature Second Empire colours of purple and gold with a Byzantine twist, this 82-room hotel is still very much a darling of the rich and famous. A delightful restaurant takes pride of place in the statue-strewn central courtyard in the warmer months; the basement pool, with Art Deco-ish lounge chairs and lighting, is gorgeous; and the bar and its groovy music compilations are legendary.

GRAND HÔTEL DE CHAMPAIGNE Map     Hotel €€€

01 42 36 60 00; www.hotelchampaigneparis.com; 17 rue Jean Lantier, 1er; s €155-180, d & tw €189-235, tr €210-235; Châtelet;

This very comfortable, three-star hotel is housed in the former Hôtel des Tailleurs, a stonecutters’ mansion built in 1562 on a quiet street between rue Rivoli and the Seine. Some of the 43 guestrooms (eg the Louis XIII–style room) are almost over the top but, well, this is Paris. Enjoy.

HÔTEL THÉRÈSE Map     Hotel €€€

01 42 96 10 01; www.hoteltherese.com; 5-7 rue Thérèse, 1er; s €150, d & tw €180-250; Pyramides;

From the same people who brought you the Hôtel Verneuil the Thérèse also has chic individually decorated rooms – in this case 43 of them in eight basic colours. The décor is classic yet eclectic; larger rooms have tubs while smaller ones (and they are small) have showers. We love the linen panels on the windows that diffuse the light so nicely.

HÔTEL BRITANNIQUE Map     Hotel €€€

01 42 33 74 59; www.hotel-britannique.fr; 20 av Victoria, 1er; s €147, d €178-205; tr €233, ste €263-306; Châtelet;

With all the plaid here and the panelled, library-like lounge, you’d be excused for thinking you’d hopped over what the French called La Manche (‘Sleeve’, or English Channel). Still, the 39-room ‘Britannic’ remains a Gallic oasis above the brouhaha of Châtelet, and the rooms on the upper floors, some of which have balconies, look straight down to a row of plane trees. It’s an excellent choice if you want to be near everything.

LE RELAIS DU LOUVRE Map     Hotel €€€

01 40 41 96 42; www.relaisdulouvre.com; 19 rue des Prêtres St-Germain l’Auxerrois, 1er; s €108, d & tw €165-198, tr €212, ste €237-430; Pont Neuf;

If you are someone who likes style but in a traditional sense, choose this lovely 21-room hotel just west of the Louvre and south of the Église St-Germain l’Auxerrois. The 10 rooms facing the street and the church are on the petite side; if you are looking for something more spacious, ask for one of the five rooms ending in a ‘2’ and looking onto the garden/patio. Room 2 itself has access to the garden.

HÔTEL ST-MERRY Map     Hotel €€

01 42 78 14 15; www.hotelmarais.com; 78 rue de la Verrerie, 4e; d & tw €160-230, tr €205-275, ste €335-407; Châtelet;

The interior of this 11-room hostelry, with beamed ceilings, church pews and wrought-iron candelabra, is a neogoth’s wet dream; you have to see the architectural elements of room 9 (flying buttress over the bed) and the furnishings of 12 (choir-stall bed board) to believe them. On the downside there is no lift connecting the postage-stamp lobby with the four upper floors, and it has no mod cons to speak of except for recently introduced wi-fi.

HÔTEL VIVIENNE Map     Hotel €€

01 42 33 13 26; www.hotel-vivienne.com; 40 rue Vivienne, 2e; s €60-114, d & tw €75-114; Grands Boulevards;

This stylish hotel is amazingly good value for Paris. While the 45 rooms are not huge, they have all the modcons (some even boast little balconies), and the public areas are bright and cheery.


PRICE GUIDE
The symbols below indicate the cost per night of a standard double room in high season.
€       under €70
€€      €71-160
€€€    over €160

HÔTEL DE LILLE Map    Hotel €

01 42 33 33 42; www.heoteldelille.net; 8 rue de Pélican, 1er; s €35-38, d €43-50, tr €65-75; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre;

This old-fashioned but spotlessly clean 13-room hotel is down a quiet side street in a 17th-century building. A half-dozen of the rooms have just a washbasin and bidet (communal showers cost €3), while the rest have en suite showers. The friendly and helpful manager speaks good English.

CENTRE INTERNATIONAL DE SÉJOUR BVJ PARIS-LOUVRE Map    Hostel €

01 53 00 90 90; www.bvjhotel.com; 20 rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 1er; per person dm €28, d €30; Louvre-Rivoli;

This modern, 200-bed hostel run by the Bureau des Voyages de la Jeunesse (Youth Travel Bureau) has doubles and bunks in a single-sex room for four to 10 people with showers down the corridor. Guests should be aged 18 to 35. Rooms are accessible from 2.30pm on the day you arrive and all day after that. There are no kitchen facilities. There is usually space in the morning, even in summer, so stop by as early as you can. All rooms are nonsmoking and internet access is available for €1 for 10 minutes. The Centre International de Séjour BVJ Paris-Quartier Latin (Map; 01 43 29 34 80; 44 rue des Bernardins, 5e; per person dm €28, s/d €42/32; Maubert Mutualité), its sister-hostel on the Left Bank, has 100 beds in singles, doubles and single-sex dorm rooms for four to 10 people. All rooms have showers and telephones, and rates include breakfast.

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MARAIS & BASTILLE

The Marais is one of the liveliest parts of the Right Bank and its top-end hostels are among the city’s finest. Despite massive gentrification in recent years, there are also some less expensive hotels left and the choice of lower-priced one- and two-star hotels remains excellent. East of the Bastille, the relatively untouristy 11e is generally made up of unpretentious working-class areas and is a good way to see the ‘real’ Paris up close. Two-star comfort there is less expensive than in the Marais.


top picks
BOUTIQUE HOTELS
 

MURANO URBAN RESORT Map    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 42 71 20 00; www.muranoresort.com; 13 blvd du Temple, 3e; s €360, d €440-650, ste €750-1200; Filles du Calvaire;

This 52-room ‘urban resort’ south of place de la République wears a classical 19th-century exterior but has the 21st century inside. And with public areas like a new spa with heated pool, a courtyard restaurant under glass, a cool jazz bar with DJ, and bedrooms that allow you to change their colour scheme, it might even be the 22nd.

HÔTEL DU BOURG TIBOURG Map    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 42 78 47 39; www.hoteldubourgtibourg.com; 19 du Bourg Tibourg, 4e; s €180, d €230-260, ste €360; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul;

This stunning 30-room boutique hotel is in the Hôtel Costes stable and was also done up by über-designer Jacques Garcia. The result is romantic ‘French’ neogothic combined with Orientalia. Be aware that this place is built more for romance than business; rooms are not particularly large, except for the one suite.

HÔTEL DU PETIT MOULIN Map     Boutique Hotel €€€

01 42 74 10 10; www.hoteldupetitmoulin.com; 29-31 rue du Poitou, 3e; r €180-280, ste €350; Filles du Calvaire;

Oh, brave new world! This scrumptious boutique hotel (OK, we’re impressed that it was a bakery at the time of Henri IV) was designed from top to bottom by Christian Lacroix and features 17 completely different rooms. You can choose from medieval and rococo Marais sporting exposed beams and dressed in Toile de Jouy wallpaper, to a more modern quartier with contemporary murals and heart-shaped mirrors just this side of kitsch. ‘The Little Mill’ is a wonderful new addition to the northern end of the Marais and highly recommended.

LE GÉNÉRAL HÔTEL Map    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 47 00 41 57; www.legeneralhotel.com; 5-7 rue Rampon, 11e; s €143-163, d €173-203, tr €203-233, ste €243-273; République;

This 48-room hotel is a symphony in white on the outside and bonbon box of cherry and chocolate tones within. The hotel’s décor is fresh and fun, and the rooms are beautifully furnished. The light ‘sculpture’ in the bar off the lobby is memorable and amenities include a fitness centre and sauna.

CASTEX HÔTEL Map    Hotel €€

01 42 72 31 52; www.castexhotel.com; 5 rue Castex, 4e; s/d €120/150, ste €220; Bastille;

Equidistant from the Bastille and the Marais, the 30-room Castex has modernised but managed to retain some of its 17th-century elements, including a vaulted stone cellar used as a breakfast room, terracotta tiles on the floor and Toile de Jouy wallpaper. Try to get one of the independent rooms (1 and 2) off the lovely patio; No 3 is a two-room suite or family room.

HÔTEL BASTILLE DE LAUNAY Map     Hotel €€

01 47 00 88 11; www.paris-hotel-launay.com; 42 rue Amelot, 11e; s €110, d €140-160; Chemin Vert;

This 36-room hotel offers good value due to its central location just up from place de la Bastille. Rooms are smallish and much of a muchness, with classic two-star furnishings and carpets. Rooms ending in ‘1’ face quiet rue Amelot and the steps up to busy blvd Beaumarchais.

HÔTEL DU VIEUX SAULE Map    Hotel €€

01 42 72 01 14; www.hotelvieuxsaule.com; 6 rue de Picardie, 3e; s €120, d €140-160, tr €180; Filles du Calvaire;

This flower-bedecked 28-room hostelry in the northern Marais is something of a ‘find’ because of its slightly unusual location. The hotel has a small sauna, there is a tranquil little garden on full display behind glass off the lobby. Breakfast is served in the 16th-century vaulted cellar.

AUSTIN’S ARTS ET MÉTIERS HÔTEL Map     Hotel €€

01 42 77 17 61; www.hotelaustins.com; 6 rue Montgolfier, 3e; s/d €108/148; Arts et Métiers;

This three-star hotel southwest of place de la République and hard by the Musée des Arts et Métiers stands out primarily for its warm welcome and excellent service. The 29 rooms are minimally furnished but attractively done up in reds, yellows and blues. The brightest rooms face the street, while the largest ones overlook the courtyard. Choose 12 if, like us, you like a bathroom with a window. There is a sister hotel, Austin’s St-Lazare Hôtel opposite Gare St-Lazare.

HÔTEL BASTILLE SPÉRIA Map     Hotel €€

01 42 72 04 01; www.hotel-bastille-speria.com; 1 rue de la Bastille, 4e; s €103-131, d €135-160, tw €152-170; Bastille;

This 42-room hotel is within spitting distance of place de la Bastille offers good value for its location. The rooms are nothing to write home about but some of them (103, for example) sit on the corner and boast two windows. Bathrooms are modern and relatively large.

HÔTEL CARON DE BEAUMARCHAIS Map    Boutique Hotel €€

01 42 72 34 12; www.carondebeaumarchais.com; 12 rue Vieille du Temple, 4e; r €125-162; St-Paul; Filles du Calvaire;

Decorated like an 18th-century private house contemporary with Beaumarchais, who wrote Le Mariage de Figaro (The Marriage of Figaro) at No 47 on this street, this award-winning themed hotel has to be seen to be believed. The small, museum-quality lobby, with its prized 18th-century pianoforte, gaming tables and original Beaumarchais manuscripts, sets the tone of the place. The 19 rooms aren’t huge but are positively dripping in brocade, furniture decorated with tracery, and ormolu-framed mirrors. The welcome can verge on the scary.

HÔTEL DE LA BRETONNERIE Map     Hotel €€

01 48 87 77 63; www.bretonnerie.com; 22 rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; s & d €125-160, ste €185-210; Hôtel de Ville;

This is a very charming three-star hotel in the heart of the Marais nightlife area dating from the 17th century. The décor of each of the 22 rooms and seven suites is unique, and some rooms have four-poster and canopy beds. Three ‘duplex’ suites on two levels are huge and can easily accommodate three or four people.

GRAND HÔTEL MALHER Map    Hotel €€

01 42 72 60 92; www.grandhotelmalher.com, in French; 5 rue Malher, 4e; s €95-120, d €115-140, ste €170-185; St-Paul;

This welcoming establishment run by the same family for three generations has nicely appointed rooms and a small but pretty courtyard at the back. The hotel’s 31 bedrooms are a decent size, and the bathrooms are modern and relatively large; most are equipped with a bath and a few with a shower. Rooms 1 and 2 give on to the courtyard.

HÔTEL SAINTONGE MARAIS Map     Hotel €€

01 42 77 91 13; www.hotelmarais.com; 16 rue Saintonge, 3e; s/d/tr €105/115/140, ste €170; Filles du Calvaire;

This renovated 23-room hotel, with exposed beams, vaulted cellar and period furniture, is really more Oberkampf/République than the Marais. But with the Musée Picasso practically next door, let’s not quibble. You’ll get much better value for money here than in the more central parts of the Marais, including at the Saintonge’s show-off sister property, the Hôtel St-Merry.

HÔTEL ST-LOUIS MARAIS Map     Hotel €€

01 48 87 87 04; www.saintlouismarais.com; 1 rue Charles V, 4e; s €99, d & tw €115-140, tr €150, ste €160; Sully Morland;

This especially charming hotel built within a converted 17th-century convent is more Bastille than Marais, but still within easy walking distance of the latter. Wooden beams, terracotta tiles and heavy brocade drapes tend to darken the 19 renovated rooms, but certainly add to the atmosphere. Be aware that this four-floor hotel has no lift.

HÔTEL BEAUMARCHAIS Map    Boutique Hotel €€

01 53 36 86 86; www.hotelbeaumarchais.com; 3 rue Oberkampf, 11e; s €75-90, d €110-130, tr €170-190; Filles du Calvaire;

This brighter-than-bright 31-room boutique hotel, with its emphasis on sunbursts and bold primary colours, is just this side of kitsch. But it certainly makes for a different Paris experience, and there are monthly art exhibitions to which guests are invited to the vernissage (opening night). The rooms are of a decent size and the best are Nos 2 and 3 – a triple and a double in the courtyard.

HÔTEL DE NICE Map    Hotel €€

01 42 78 55 29; www.hoteldenice.com; 42bis rue de Rivoli, 4e; s/d/tr €80/110/135; Hôtel de Ville

This is an especially warm, family-run place with 23 comfortable rooms. Some have balconies high above busy rue de Rivoli. Reception is on the 1st floor. Every square inch of wall space is used to display old prints, and public areas and bedrooms are full of Second Empire–style furniture, Indian carpets and lamps with fringed shades.

HÔTEL DE LA PLACE DES VOSGES Map    Hotel €€

01 42 72 60 46; www.hotelplacedesvosges.com; 12 rue de Birague, 4e; s & d €90-95, ste €150; Bastille;

This superbly situated 17-room hotel is an oasis of tranquillity due south of sublime place des Vosges. The public areas are impressive and the rooms warm and cosy. A tiny lift serves the 1st to 4th floors but it’s stairs only from the ground floor and to the 5th floor. A boon to families is the suite on the top floor with choice views that can accommodate up to four people comfortably.

HÔTEL DU 7E ART Map     Hotel €€

01 44 54 85 00; www.paris-hotel-7art.com; 20 rue St-Paul, 4e; s & d €85-145, tw €100-145; St-Paul;

This themed hotel on the south side of rue St-Antoine is a fun place for film buffs – le septième art (the seventh art) is what the French call cinema – and boasts a B&W-movie theme throughout, right down to the tiled floors and the bathrooms. The 23 rooms over five floors – there is no lift – are sizeable and quite different from one another. A single with just a washbasin is €65. Go for room 41 or 42 on the 4th floor; they both have windows facing in two directions.

HÔTEL PARIS FRANCE Map    Hotel €€

01 42 78 00 04; www.paris-france-hotel.com; 72 rue de Turbigo, 3e; s €72-98, d €89-129, tw €89-159, tr €109-159; Temple;

This hotel with the inspired name first opened in 1910 but you wouldn’t win any prizes locating vestiges of the Belle Époque here. Rooms are nicely proportioned but try to get one facing the rear as rue Turbigo is a very busy street and even the double-glazing is challenged by the din.

HÔTEL CROIX DE MALTE Map     Hotel €€

01 48 05 09 36; www.hotelcroixdemalte-paris.com; 5 rue de Malte, 11e; s €75-85, d €85-95; Oberkampf;

This cheery hotel will have you thinking you’re in the tropics, not Paris. The breakfast room just off the lobby is bathed in light and looks out onto a tiny glassed-in courtyard with greenery and a giant jungle mural; Walasse Ting prints (of parrots mostly) complete the picture. The 40 rooms are in two little buildings, only one of which has a lift.

HÔTEL JEANNE D’ARC Map    Hotel €€

01 48 87 62 11; www.hoteljeannedarc.com; 3 rue de Jarente, 4e; s €60-97, d €84-97, tr €116, q €146; St-Paul;

This cosy 36-room hotel near lovely place du Marché Ste-Catherine is a great little base for your peregrinations among the museums, bars and restaurants of the Marais, and almost has a country feel to it (including heated towel rails). About the only thing wrong with this place is that everyone knows about it, so you’ll have to book well in advance.

HÔTEL DAVAL Map    Hotel €€

01 47 00 51 23; www.hoteldaval.com; 21 rue Daval, 11e; s/d/tr/q €76/82/105/118; Bastille;

Always a favourite, this 23-room property is a very central option if you’re looking for budget accommodation just off place de la Bastille. What’s more, it’s had a facelift that brings it up at least to the start of the 21st century. Rooms and bathrooms are on the small side and if you’re looking for some peace and quiet choose a back room (eg room 13).

HÔTEL PRATIC Map    Hotel €€

01 48 87 80 47; www.hotelpratic.com; 9 rue d’Ormesson, 4e; s €75-105, d €81-121, tr €93-145; St-Paul;

This 23-room hotel, which is opposite the delightful place du Marché Ste-Catherine, has been given another overhaul and the décor – exposed beams, gilt frames, half-timbered or stone walls – is almost too much. Rooms, dispersed over six floors, are rather pricey for what you get, though there are frequent promotions on their website. There’s no lift here.

HÔTEL SÉVIGNÉ Map    Hotel €€

01 42 72 76 17; www.le-sevigne.com; 2 rue Malher, 4e; s €67, d & tw €80-91, tr €107; St-Paul;

This hotel in the heart of the Marais, and named after the celebrated 17th-century writer, the Marquise de Sévigné (whose letters give us such a wonderful insight into the Paris of her day) is excellent value for its location and price. The hotel’s 29 rooms, spread over six floors and accessible by lift, are basic but comfortably furnished.

HÔTEL LYON MULHOUSE Map     Hotel €€

01 47 00 91 50; www.1-hotel-paris.com; 8 blvd Beaumarchais, 11e; s €65-90, d €78-110, tr €110-130; Bastille;

This former post house, from where carriages would set out for Lyon and Mulhouse, has been a hotel since the 1920s. The 40 rooms, though not particularly special, are comfortable, quiet and of a good size; opt for room 12 with a door leading to a courtyard. Place de la Bastille is just around the corner.

HÔTEL BAUDELAIRE BASTILLE Map     Hotel €

01 47 00 40 98; www.paris-hotel-bastille.com; 12 rue de Charonne, 11e; s €55-66, d €62-76, tr €71-89, q €89-108; Bastille or Ledru Rollin;

This independent one-star hotel is in an ancient building that is coy about showing its age except for the odd worm-chewed beam. The 46 rooms are of a decent size and spotless, though there is no lift. Rooms look out onto a quiet courtyard or the street but double-glazing more or less keeps the noise where it belongs. Internet costs €2 for 15 minutes or €6 per hour.

GRAND HÔTEL DU LOIRET Map     Hotel €

01 48 87 77 00; [email protected]; 8 rue des Mauvais Garçons, 4e; s €50-80, d €50-90, tr/q €100/110; Hôtel de Ville or St-Paul;

This 27-room budget hotel in the heart of gay Marais is very popular with young male travellers, not just because it is within easy walking distance of just about everything after dark, but because it sits – or does it lie? – on the ‘Street of the Bad Boys’. Seven of the rooms have neither private shower nor bath or toilet but share facilities off the corridors. Those rooms are a steal at €50. Internet access costs a whopping €3/5/9 for 15/30/60 minutes.

HÔTEL DE LA HERSE D’OR Map    Hotel €

01 48 87 84 09; www.hotel-herse-dor.com; 20 rue St-Antoine, 4e; basic s/d €45/60, with shower d/tr €76/96; Bastille;

This friendly place east of place de la Bastille has 35 serviceable rooms off a long stone corridor lined with mirrors. It’s very basic and cheap; the lower-priced rooms have washbasins only. Though there’s wi-fi, those without laptops can check their emails at an internet terminal in the lobby for €2/6 for 15/60 minutes. And, in case you wondered, herse in French is not ‘hearse’ but ‘portcullis’. So let’s call it the ‘Golden Gate Hotel’.

HÔTEL DE NEVERS Map    Hotel €

01 47 00 56 18; www.hoteldenevers.com; 53 rue de Malte, 11e; s €39, d €45-55, tr €75-87; Oberkampf;

This 32-room budget hotel around the corner from place de la République and within easy walking distance of the nightlife of Ménilmontant is under new management but remains excellent value. Hyper-allergenics may think twice about staying here, though: there are three cats on hand to greet you. Rooms at the low-end of the scale share bathing facilities.

HÔTEL RIVOLI Map    Hotel     €

01 42 72 08 41; 44 rue de Rivoli & 2 rue des Mauvais Garçons, 4e; s €35-55, d €44-55, tr €70; Hôtel de Ville

Long a Lonely Planet favourite (there’s no pretending who we are – or are not – with these guys), the Rivoli is forever cheery but not as dirt cheap as it once was, with 20 basic, somewhat noisy rooms. The cheaper singles and doubles have washbasins only, but use of the shower room in the hallway is free. Annoyingly – given that it is in the heart of the Marais nightlife area – the front door is locked from 2am to 7am. Reception is on the 1st floor.

MAISON INTERNATIONALE DE LA JEUNESSE ET DES ÉTUDIANTS Map    Hostel €

MIJE; 01 42 74 23 45; www.mije.com; per person dm €29, s/d/tr €47/34/30;

The MIJE runs three hostels in attractively renovated 17th- and 18th-century hôtels particuliers (private mansions) in the heart of the Marais, and it’s difficult to think of a better budget deal in Paris. Costs are the same for all three hostels, and include single-sex, shower-equipped dorms with four to eight beds per room as well as singles, twins and triples. Rooms are closed from noon to 3pm, and curfew is from 1am to 7am. The maximum stay is seven nights. Individuals can make reservations at any of the three MIJE hostels listed below by emailing ([email protected]) or telephoning; reception will hold you a bed till noon. During summer and other busy periods, there may not be space after mid-morning. There’s an annual membership fee of €2.50.

MIJE Le Fauconnier (Map; 11 rue du Fauconnier, 4e; St-Paul or Pont Marie) has 125 beds and is two blocks south of MIJE Le Fourcy.

MIJE Le Fourcy (Map; 6 rue de Fourcy, 4e; St-Paul), with 180 beds, is the largest of the three. There’s a cheap eatery here called Le Restaurant, which offers a three-course fixed-price menu including a drink for €10.50.

MIJE Maubuisson (Map; 12 rue des Barres, 4e; Hôtel de Ville or Pont Marie) – the pick of the three, in our opinion – is half a block south of the mairie (town hall) of the 4e and has 99 beds.

AUBERGE DE JEUNESSE JULES FERRY Map    Hostel €

01 43 57 55 60; www.fuaj.fr; 8 blvd Jules Ferry, 11e; per person dm & d €21; République or Goncourt; Filles du Calvaire;

This official hostel three blocks east of place de la République is somewhat institutional and the rooms could use a refit, but the atmosphere is fairly relaxed. The 99 beds are in two- to six-person rooms, which are locked between 10.30am and 2pm for housekeeping, but there is no curfew. You’ll have to pay an extra €2.90 per night if you don’t have an HI card or equivalent (€11/17 for those under/over 26).

AUBERGE INTERNATIONALE DES JEUNES Map    Hostel €

01 47 00 62 00; www.aijparis.com; 10 rue Trousseau, 11e; per person dm Jul & Aug €17, Mar-Jun & Sep-Oct €15, Nov-Feb €13; Ledru Rollin

This clean, friendly hostel just 700m east of place de la Bastille attracts a young, international crowd and gets full in the summer. Beds in dorms are for two to four people; the largest ones have shower and toilet en suite. Rooms are closed for cleaning between 11am and 4pm but there‘s no curfew. Internet access costs €2 for 15 minutes.

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ALSO RECOMMENDED

 
  • Hôtel Verlain (Map; 01 43 57 44 88; www.verlain.com; 97 rue St-Maur, 11e; s/d €115/125; Rue St-Maur; ) Good-value and more-than-functional 38-room midrange hotel overlooking busy blvd de la République.
  • Hôtel des Arts (Map; 01 43 79 72 57; www.paris-hotel-desarts.com; 2 rue Godefroy Cavaignac, 11e; s/d/tr €90/99/120; Charonne) Cosy hotel with 35 bright (and recently renovated) rooms convenient to the bars and restaurants of Bastille.
  • Garden Hôtel (Map; 01 47 00 57 93; www.garden-hotel-paris.com; 1 rue du Général Blaise, 11e; s/d €60/78; St-Ambroise) If you’re looking for peace and quiet but want to be within easy walking distance of Bastille and Ménilmontant, choose this hotel with 42 rooms overlooking a large leafy square. We’re also suckers for a glass Art Deco entranceway.
  • Hôtel Américain (Map; 01 48 87 58 92; www.paris-hotel-americain.com; 72 rue Charlot, 3e; s €62, d €72, tw €86; République) This cheapie facing a small square just off place de la République has 36 barebones rooms (singles with shower, doubles with bathtubs) and a lobby brightened up by a spot of modern art.

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THE ISLANDS

The smaller of the two islands in the middle of the Seine, the Île St-Louis is by far the more romantic and has a string of excellent top-end hotels. It’s an easy walk from central Paris. Oddly enough, the only hotel of any sort on the Île de la Cité is a budget one.

HÔTEL DE LUTÈCE Map     Hotel €€€

01 43 26 23 52; www.hotel-ile-saintlouis.com; 65 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; s €150, d €170-189, tr €205-225; Pont Marie;

An exquisite 23-room hotel, the Lutèce has an enviable spot on delightful Île St-Louis. It received a complete makeover in 2006 and has both friendly and helpful management. The comfortable rooms are tastefully decorated and the location is one of the most desirable in the city. The lobby/salon, with its ancient fireplace, wood panelling, antique furnishings and terracotta tiles, sets the inviting tone of the whole place.

HÔTEL ST-LOUIS Map     Hotel €€€

01 46 34 04 80; www.hotel-saint-louis.com; 75 rue St-Louis en l’Île, 4e; r €140-155, ste €220; Pont Marie; Filles du Calvaire;

One of several hotels lining posh rue St-Louis en l’Île, this hotel has 19 appealing but unspectacular rooms, though the public areas are lovely. The breakfast room in the basement dates from the early 17th century.

HÔTEL HENRI IV Map     Hotel €

01 43 54 44 53; 25 place Dauphine, 1er; s & d €52-76, tr €76; Pont Neuf or Cité;

This decrepit place, with 15 worn rooms, is popular for its location, location and – above all else – location on the tip of the Île de la Cité. It would be impossible to find a hotel more romantically located at such a price in all of Paris – much less the Île de la Cité. While it’s not the most salubrious of establishments, in its favour the rooms, all of which have showers, are large and the views over the square are wonderful. Book well in advance.

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LATIN QUARTER & JARDIN DES PLANTES

There are dozens of attractive two- and three-star hotels in the Latin Quarter, including a cluster near the Sorbonne and another group along the lively rue des Écoles. Midrange hotels in the Latin Quarter are very popular with visiting academics, so rooms are hardest to find when conferences and seminars are scheduled (usually from March to June and in October). In general this area offers better value among top-end hotels than the better-heeled neighbouring 6e does. The Luxembourg and Port Royal RER stations are linked to both airports by RER and Orlyval.

The northern section of the 5e close to the Seine has been popular with students and young people since the Middle Ages. While truly budget places to stay are at a premium these days, there’s at least a popular and well-maintained hostel to choose from.

HÔTEL HENRI IV RIVE GAUCHE Map    Hotel €€€

01 46 33 20 20; www.henri-paris-hotel.com; 9-11 rue St-Jacques, 5e; s/d/tr €157/175/198; St-Michel Notre Dame or Cluny La Sorbonne;

This three-star hotel with 23 rooms awash with antiques, old prints and fresh flowers is an oasis in the Latin Quarter just steps from Notre Dame and the Seine. It’s part of the same group as the Hôtel de Lutèce (left) on the Île de St-Louis and exudes ‘country chic’; the lobby with its 18th-century fireplace, terracotta tiles and portraits could almost be in a manor house in Normandy. Front rooms have stunning views of the Église St-Séverin and its buttresses.

HÔTEL DE NOTRE DAME MAÎTRE ALBERT Map    Hotel €€€

01 43 26 79 00; www.hotel-paris-notredame.com; 19 rue Maître Albert, 5e; s/d €155/165; Maubert Mutualité;

Hidden down a quiet side street of the Latin Quarter but just paces from the Seine, this hotel boasts some lovely public areas (we adore the tapestry in the lobby and the oriental carpets). However but the 34 rooms, most of which look out to rooftops and give off long narrow corridors, are less impressive. Still, room 27 is a decent size and very quiet.

SELECT HÔTEL Map    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 46 34 14 80; www.selecthotel.fr; 1 place de la Sorbonne, 5e; d €139-175, tw €155-175, tr €179-189, ste €212; Cluny La Sorbonne; Filles du Calvaire;

Smack dab in the heart of the studenty Sorbonne area, the Select is a very Parisian Art Deco mini-palace, with an atrium and cactus-strewn winter garden, an 18th-century vaulted breakfast room and 67 stylish bedrooms. The rooms are not always as large as you’d hope for, but the design solutions are ingenious, making great use of a minimum of space. The 1920s-style cocktail bar with an attached ‘library’ just off the lobby is a delight.


top picks
HOTELS WITH A GARDEN
 

HÔTEL ST-CHRISTOPHE Map    Hotel €€

01 43 31 81 54; www.charm-hotel-paris.com; 17 rue Lacépède, 5e; s €122-124, d €134-136; Place Monge;

This classy small hotel is located on a quiet street between rue Monge in the Latin Quarter and the Jardin des Plantes. The 32 rooms are hardly what you would call spectacular, but they are well-equipped and there are five sizes and shapes to choose from. The welcome is always particularly warm at this Logis de France ‘charm hotel’.

HÔTEL DU LEVANT Map    Hotel €€

01 46 34 11 00; www.hoteldulevant.com; 18 rue de la Harpe, 5e; s €100-120, d €118-145, tw €160, tr €175-215, q €235-255, ste €300-320; Cluny La Sorbonne or St-Michel;

It’s hard to imagine anything more central than this 47-room hotel in the heart of the Latin Quarter; you’ll never lack for a kebab day or night. The lobby, done up in yellows and reds, is warm and welcoming; the breakfast room is nicely decorated with a large faux naïf mural and lots of 19th-century fashion engravings. Rooms are of a decent size, with furnishings two steps beyond pure functional, and feature modern bathrooms.

HÔTEL DES GRANDES ÉCOLES Map    Hotel €€

01 43 26 79 23; www.hotel-grandes-ecoles.com; 75 rue du Cardinal Lemoine, 5e; s & d €110-135, tr €125-155; Cardinal Lemoine or Place Monge;

This wonderful, very welcoming 51-room hotel just north of place de la Contrescarpe has one of the loveliest situations in the Latin Quarter, tucked away in a courtyard off a medieval street with its own private garden. Choose a room in one of three buildings but our favourites are those in the garden annexe, especially the five that are on the ground floor and have direct access to the garden (rooms 29 to 33).

HÔTEL MINERVE Map    Hotel €€

01 43 26 26 04; www.parishotelminerve.com; 13 rue des Écoles, 5e; s €90-125, d €106-136, tr €156-158; Cardinal Lemoine;

We make no secret of our love affair with this 54-room hotel and the people Click here who run it. Housed in two Haussman buildings and owned by the same family who run the Familia Hôtel (below) next door, the Minerve has a reception area kitted out in Oriental carpets and antique books, which the affable owner/manager collects, and some of the rooms have been enlarged. We like the frescoes of French monuments and reproduction 18th-century wallpaper. Some 10 rooms have small balconies, eight with views of Notre Dame and two have tiny courtyards that are swooningly romantic. Complimentary breakfast buffet is included.

HÔTEL ST-JACQUES Map    Hotel €€

01 44 07 45 45; www.hotel-saintjacques.com; 35 rue des Écoles, 5e; s €92, d €105-137, tr €168; Maubert Mutualité;

This very stylish 38-room hotel has rooms with balconies overlooking the Panthéon. Audrey Hepburn and Cary Grant, who filmed some scenes of Charade here in the 1960s, would commend the mod cons that complement the original 19th-century details (trompe l’oeil ceilings that look like cloud-filled skies, an iron staircase and so on). The cabaret-themed breakfast room and comments book in the lobby is a welcome touch.

FAMILIA HÔTEL Map     Hotel €€

01 43 54 55 27; www.familiahotel.com; 11 rue des Écoles, 5e; s €86, d & tw €103-124, tr €161-173, q €184; Cardinal Lemoine;

This very welcoming and well-situated family run hotel has sepia murals of Parisian landmarks in most rooms and is one of the most attractive ‘almost budget’ options on this side of the Seine. Eight rooms have little balconies, from which you can catch a glimpse of Notre Dame; the choicest rooms which carry a premium – are rooms 61, 62 and 65 (the last has a four-poster bed). We love the flower-bedecked window, the lovely parquet floors and the complimentary breakfast.

HÔTEL DU COLLÈGE DE FRANCE Map    Hotel €€

01 43 26 78 36; www.hotel-collegedefrance.com; 7 rue Thénard, 5e; s €89, d €99-135; Maubert Mutualité;

Close to its prestigious educational namesake, this hotel has 29 rooms that are basic and very similar; avoid the dark ones facing the courtyard and go for those overlooking the quiet street, especially the rooms with two windows. The lobby, with its fireplace, stained glass and statue of Joan of Arc (go figure – unless it’s to remind visiting Brits of their dastardly deed) is welcoming.

HÔTEL DES 3 COLLÈGES Map    Hotel €€

01 43 54 67 30; www.3colleges.com; 16 rue Cujas, 5e; s €78-120, d €96-140, tr €130-160; Luxembourg; Filles du Calvaire;

Under new (and enthusiastic) management, this 44-room hotel is a pleasant and reasonably priced place to located by the Sorbonne. Furnishings in the smallish rooms are simple – white with splashes of pastel – and some rooms share a WC. But we love the half-price (€4.50) express breakfast and room 63 with its beamed ceiling and – count ‘em – three sun-splashed windows.

HÔTEL RÉSIDENCE HENRI IV Map    Hotel €€

01 44 41 31 81; www.residencehenri4.com; 50 rue des Bernadins, 5e; s & d €90-230, 1-/2-person apt €150-310, 3-/4-person apt €180-340; Maubert Mutualité;

This exquisite late-19th-century hotel at the end of a quiet cul-de-sac near the Sorbonne has eight rooms and five two-room apartments – all with kitchenette (microwave, fridge, stove, crockery and cutlery). They are of a generous size – a minimum 17 sq metres for the rooms and 25 sq metres for the apartments – and all look out onto the street and leafy square, while the bathrooms all face a courtyard. Room 1 on the ground floor is wheelchair accessible. Rates vary widely; check the internet.

HÔTEL ESMERALDA Map    Hotel €€

01 43 54 19 20; fax 01 40 51 00 68; 4 rue St-Julien le Pauvre, 5e; s €35-95, d €85-95, tr/q €110/120; St-Michel

Tucked away in a quiet street with million-dollar views of Notre Dame (choose room 12!), this no-frills place – always just about to be renovated – is about as central to the Latin Quarter as you’re ever likely to get. Its charm is no secret though, so book well ahead. At these prices and location, the 19 rooms – the three cheapest singles have washbasin only – are no great shakes, so expect little beyond the picture-postcard view through the window. There’s no lift and some rooms share a toilet.

HÔTEL DE L’ESPÉRANCE Map     Hotel €€

01 47 07 10 99; www.hoteldelesperance.fr; 15 rue Pascal, 5e; s €71-80, d €80-90; Censier Daubenton;

Just a couple of minutes’ walk south of lively rue Mouffetard is this quiet and immaculately kept 38-room hotel with faux antique furnishings and a warm welcome from a charming couple. Some of the larger rooms have two double beds.

HÔTEL CLUNY SORBONNE Map    Hotel €€

01 43 54 66 66; www.hotel-cluny.fr; 8 rue Victor Cousin, 5e; s & d €70-95, q €130-150; Luxembourg;

This hotel, surrounded by the prestigious buildings of the Sorbonne and where the poet Arthur Rimbaud dallied in 1872, has 23 rooms that could do with an upgrade, but the cheery yellow lobby and equally cheery staff make up for that. One of the choicest rooms is No 63 for four people, with memorable views of the college and the Panthéon.

HÔTEL GAY-LUSSAC Map    Hotel     €

01 43 54 23 96; [email protected]; 29 rue Gay Lussac, 5e; s/d with washbasin €50/60, s/d with shower €60/70, s/d/tr/q with shower & WC €65/78/98/110; Luxembourg;

Sacré bleu! The Gay-Lussac, a 35-room threadbare hotel with a certain amount of character in the southern part of the Latin Quarter, has entered into the modern age with a website, wi-fi throughout and a lick of paint. Though the single rooms are small, the others are very large indeed and have high ceilings. Furnishings are very basic and the whole place could use a more ambitious refit, but the staff are friendly and helpful.

PORT ROYAL HÔTEL Map    Hotel €

01 43 31 70 06; www.hotelportroyal.fr; 8 blvd de Port Royal, 5e; s €41-89, d €53-89; Les Gobelins;

It’s hard to imagine that this 46-room hotel, owned and managed by the same family since 1931, still only bears one star. The spotless and very quiet rooms overlook a small glassed-in courtyard (eg room 15) or the street (room 14) but we especially like room 11 with its colourful bed frame and pretty bathroom. Of course, this value-for-money place is no secret, so book ahead. Rooms at the lower end of the scale have washbasins only.

YOUNG & HAPPY HOSTEL Map    Hostel €

01 47 07 47 07; www.youngandhappy.fr; 80 rue Mouffetard, 5e; dm €23, d per person €26; Place Monge;

This is a friendly though slightly frayed place in the centre of the Latin Quarter. It’s popular with a slightly older crowd than when it opened as Paris’ first independent hostel some two decades ago. The hostel rooms are shut tight between 11am and 4pm but reception stays open and there is no curfew. Beds are in cramped rooms with washbasins, and accommodate three to 10 people. In summer, the best way to get a bed is to stop by at about 8am. Internet access costs €2 for 30 minutes.

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ST-GERMAIN, ODÉON & LUXEMBOURG

St-Germain des Prés is a delightful area to stay and offers some excellent midrange hotels. The three-star hotels in this area are around St-Germain des Prés. Not surprisingly in this well-heeled quartier, there is a serious shortage of budget accommodation, but what you will find is competitively priced.

RELAIS CHRISTINE Map    Hotel €€€

01 40 51 60 80; www.relais-christine.com; 3 rue Christine, 6e; s & d €370-460, ste from €540; Odéon;

Part of the Small Luxury Hotels (SLH) association, the Relais Christine is a beautiful property housed in what was once a Catholic college. Special features include an unforgettable courtyard entrance off a quiet street with a garden behind it, as well as a spa and fitness centre built in and around an original 13th-century cellar. The 51 rooms are spacious and (unusual for a hotel of this category) the décor is more modern than classic.

LA VILLA Map    Boutique Hotel     €€€

01 43 26 60 00; www.villa-saintgermain.com; 29 rue Jacob, 6e; s & d €265-335, ste €445; St-Germain des Prés;

This 31-room hotel helped set what has become almost a standard of the Parisian accommodation scene: small, minimalist, boutique. Fabrics, lighting and soft furnishings are all of the utmost quality and taste. Rooms are refreshingly modern (with a preference for chocolate browns, purples and burgundies) but subtly designed. Bathrooms are small but shimmering, and the lobby, with its popular bar, is large and bright.

RÉSIDENCE LE RÉGENT Map    Serviced Apartment €€€

01 56 24 19 21; www.residence-le-regent.com; 28 rue Monsieur le Prince, 5e; studio €265-295, 2-room apt €315-460, 3-room apt €525-610, 4-room apt 620-725; Odéon;

This stunner of a résidence, on a quiet street of the Latin Quarter, has 16 superb apartments all looking onto a peaceful inner courtyard. They range in size from studios for two people to a four-room duplex apartment for a family of six. All have fully equipped kitchenettes (did we spot a potato peeler?) and dining areas.

L’HÔTEL Map     Boutique Hotel €€€

01 44 41 99 00; www.l-hotel.com; 13 rue des Beaux Arts, 6e; s & d €255-640, ste €540-740; St-Germain des Prés;

With 20 rooms and a location tucked away in a quiet quayside street, this award-winning hostelry with the most minimal of names is the stuff of romance, Parisian myths and urban legends. Rock- and film-star patrons alike fight to sleep in room 16 where Oscar Wilde died in 1900 and now decorated with a peacock motif, or in the Art Deco room (No 36) of legendary dancer Mistinguett, with its huge mirrored bed. Rooms lead off a large circular atrium. Other features include a fantastic bar and restaurant under a glass canopy and, in the ancient cellar, a very modern swimming pool. Rates vary widely according to the seasons.

HÔTEL LE CLOS MÉDICIS Map    Hotel €€€

01 43 29 10 80; www.closmedicis.com; 56 rue Monsieur le Prince, 6e; s €165, d & tw €205-255, tr €290, ste €490; Luxembourg;

Someone has taken an 18th-century building and pushed it into the 21st century, with tasteful greys, blacks and burgundies in the 38 bedrooms. History stays for the most part in the lobby, with its antique furnishings, convivial bar and, in winter, open fireplace. The inner courtyard is a delight for drinks and/or breakfast in the warmer months.

HÔTEL D’ANGLETERRE Map    Hotel €€€

01 42 60 34 72; www.hotel-dangleterre.com; 44 rue Jacob, 6e; s €100-255, d €200-265, ste €285-320; St-Germain des Prés;

The ‘England Hotel’ is a beautiful 27-room property in a quiet street close to busy blvd St-Germain and the Musée d’Orsay. The loyal guests take breakfast in the courtyard of this former British Embassy, where the Treaty of Paris ending the American Revolution was signed, and where Hemingway once lodged (Click here). Duplex suite 51 at the top has a beamed ceiling and room 12 a four-poster bed. Breakfast is included.

HÔTEL ST-GERMAIN DES PRÉS Map    Hotel €€€

01 43 26 00 19; www.hotel-paris-saint-germain.com; 36 rue Bonaparte, 6e; s & d €190-265, ste €325; St-Germain des Prés;

Situated just up from the cafés and hubbub of place St-Germain des Prés, this is a tastefully appointed 30-room hotel. Rooms can be somewhat small; if you need more space, splurge on a ‘superior’ room (numbers ending in 4 and 5) or a ‘deluxe’ room (ending in 6) or even go for the suite (room 26) with the baronial four-poster bed. Many guests come to lay their head where Henry Miller did Click here.

HÔTEL DES MARRONNIERS Map    Hotel €€

01 43 25 30 60; www.hotel-marronniers.com; 21 rue Jacob, 6e; s €115-181, d & tw €161-181, tr €216, q €256; St-Germain des Prés;

At the end of a small courtyard 30m from the main street, this 37-room hotel has a delightful conservatory leading on to a magical garden – a true oasis in the heart of St-Germain. From the 3rd floor up, rooms ending in 1, 2 or 3 look on to the garden; the rooms on the two uppermost floors – the 5th and the 6th – have pretty views over the courtyard and the roofs of central Paris.

HÔTEL AVIATIC Map    Hotel €€

01 53 63 25 50; www.aviatic.fr; 105 rue de Vaugirard, 6e; r €149-270, ste €310-355; Montparnasse Bienvenüe; Filles du Calvaire;

This 42-room hotel with charming, almost Laura Ashley–style décor and a delightful canopied Art Deco entrance has been around since 1856, so it must be doing something right. The tiny ‘winter garden’ is a breath of fresh air (literally). Some rooms face the street and a quieter courtyard. For more space choose a ‘superior’ or ‘deluxe’ room.

HÔTEL DANEMARK Map    Boutique Hotel €€

01 43 26 93 78; www.hoteldanemark.com; 21 rue Vavin, 6e; s & d €148-168; Vavin; Filles du Calvaire;

This positively scrumptious boutique hotel southwest of the Jardin du Luxembourg has 15 very tastefully furnished rooms and eclectic contemporary décor contrasting with ancient stone walls. Public areas such as the reception and its corner rooms are full of vibrantly coloured furniture and objects that match and contrast. The bedrooms are well soundproofed and of a generous size (minimum 20 sq metres) for a boutique hotel in central Paris, and all have bathtubs.

HÔTEL LA SAINTE-BEUVE Map     Hotel €€

01 45 48 20 07; www.hotel-sainte-beuve.fr; 9 rue Ste-Beuve, 6e; s & d €145-295, ste €295-345; Rue Notre Dame des Champs;

The lift is as slow as cold treacle in this three-star hotel southwest of the Jardin du Luxembourg but the rooms are stylish and very well proportioned; both rooms 18 and 20 are good choices and the former has an especially large bathroom. The neoclassical style of the lobby is clean and soothing, and recalls the life and times of its eponymous former resident, the literary critic Charles Augustin Sainte-Beuve (1804–69).


ERICH GAUCHERON
The son of hotelier parents, Erich Gaucheron owns and operates what many consider to be among the most welcoming and well-run hotels in Paris, the two-star Familia and, just next door, the three-star Hôtel Minerve.
What’s the worst thing about being a hotelier? Dealing with people’s expectations... Guests sometimes expect things we just can’t provide. In America, hotels have big guestrooms, for example; there’s a lot of land there. Those who have travelled to Europe know that this is not the case here.
OK, and for the saints among the sinners out there, what’s the best thing about your job? Learning from guests. Whether they’re from Norway, New Zealand or China, my guests and I share ideas. Because I can’t travel everywhere, I move with my guests.
Just how difficult can people be? People are a lot more demanding these days because life is so much faster. In fact, it’s as fast as the internet. But in the end nothing is difficult, you just need to take your time. My ambition is to anticipate any problem a guest may have beforehand.
Any, err, particularly odd requests? Well, yes, the usual things. But there’s always a way to refuse a request nicely. The key is discretion. A hotelier must above all be discreet. But it’s become more and more difficult finding such people.
OK, the question we’ve all been wanting to ask: what’s the shelf life for sheets and bedspreads? For sheets, 1½ to two years. For bedspreads, four to five years.
If there were no room at the inns Familia or Minerve, where would you stay? Probably the (four-star) Hôtel de l’Abbaye Saint Germain (opposite). I find some of the great five-star hotels overly serviced; they actually try to give too much. I prefer the feel of a local hotel.
On my perfect day, find me… Poking through old books and antiques at the Marché aux Puces d’Aligre or attending one of the auctions at the Hôtel Drouot. I don’t go just to collect for the hotels but for my own pleasure as well.
Interviewed by Steve Fallon

HÔTEL DES 2 CONTINENTS Map    Hotel €€

01 43 26 72 46; www.hoteldes2continents.com; 25 rue Jacob, 6e; s €125-152, d €145-167, tw €145-185, tr €175-215; St-Germain des Prés; Filles du Calvaire;

The ‘Two Continents Hotel’ – the name pays homage to the Treaty of Paris having been signed at the nearby Hôtel d’Angleterre – is a very pleasant establishment with 41 spacious rooms in a quiet street. The mural in the beamed breakfast room, viewed through parted drapes, is an early morning eye-opener. About half of the rooms are air-conditioned.

HÔTEL LE CLÉMENT Map     Hotel €€

01 43 26 53 60; www.clement-moliere-paris-hotel.com; 6 rue Clément, 6e; s & d €130-140, tr €155; St-Germain des Prés; Filles du Calvaire;

Excellent value for the style and tranquillity it offers, the Clément has 28 stylish rooms, some of which overlook the Marché St-Germain (eg room 100). Note though that the rooms at the very top floor have sloping ceilings. The people who run the hotel clearly know what they’re doing; it’s been in the same family for over a century.

MAYET HÔTEL Map    Boutique Hotel €€

01 47 83 21 35; www.mayet.com; 3 rue Mayet, 6e; s €95-120, d €120-140, tr €160; Duroc;

Light-hearted and loads of fun, this 23-room boutique hotel with drippy murals and a penchant for oversized clocks and primary colours, has good sized rooms and bathrooms, most with tubs. It offers excellent value and free breakfast too.

HÔTEL DU LYS Map    Hotel €€

01 43 26 97 57; www.hoteldulys.com; 23 rue Serpente, 6e; s/d/tr €100/120/140; Odéon

Located in a 17th-century hôtel particulier, this 22-room midrange hotel has been in the same family for six decades. We love the beamed ceiling and the chinoiserie wallpaper in the lobby; rooms to go for include the blue-toned room 13 with its striped ceiling and two windows, or the darker (but more atmospheric) room 14 in terracotta and with rustic old furniture.

WELCOME HÔTEL Map    Hotel €€

01 46 34 24 80; www.welcomehotel-paris.com; 66 rue de Seine, 6e; s €76-97, d €105-115, tw €115-130; Mabillon;

The name says it all at this unpretentious 30-room hotel in the heart of St-Germain. OK, rooms are not overly endowed in square metres and some of the ones at the uppermost levels have sloping roofs, but the price is right and the location couldn’t be better.

HÔTEL DU GLOBE Map     Boutique Hotel €€

01 43 26 35 50; www.hotel-du-globe.fr; 15 rue des Quatre Vents, 6e; s €95-140, d €115-150, ste €180; Odéon;

This eclectic caravanserai has 14 small but nicely decorated rooms just south of the blvd St-Germain. Some of the rooms are verging on the miniscule, and there is no lift (but four floors to ascend via a very narrow staircase). Still, we’re suckers for armour – there are at least two full sets here – and canopy beds (go for room 43).

HÔTEL DU DRAGON Map    Hotel €€

01 45 48 51 05; www.hoteldudragon.com; 36 rue du Dragon, 6e; s/d €95/115; S-Germain des Pres or St-Sulpice;

There’s no lift at this five-storey hotel, just a rickety-looking old wooden staircase that leads to the 28 brightly coloured rooms. The bedside lamps are on the low-budget side and we could live without the faux-fur bed coverings, but the bathrooms are large and well maintained. The piano lounge and tiny back patio are just made for relaxing.

HÔTEL DE SÈVRES Map    Hotel €€

01 45 48 84 07; www.hoteldesevres.com; 22 rue de l’Abbé Grégoire, 6e; s €95-130, d €110-150, tr €140-160; St-Placide;

The deep kiss of a total makeover has turned a frog into a prince (or even princess). Well situated on a quiet street between Montparnasse and St-Germain, this 31-room hotel still offers some of the best value for money on the Left Bank. Rooms are of a decent size; deep browns, reds and yellows predominate, and the ones facing the courtyard are as bright as those on the street. We love the wrought iron bed frames as well as the friendly reception and its country/contemporary décor.

HÔTEL ST-ANDRÉ DES ARTS Map    Hotel €€

01 43 26 96 16; www.france-hotel-guide.com/h75006saintandredesarts.htm; 66 rue St-André des Arts, 6e; s/d/tw/tr/q €69/89/93/113/124; Odéon

Located on a lively, restaurant-lined thoroughfare, this 31-room hotel is an excellent choice if you’re looking for reasonably priced, but, stylish accommodation in the centre of the action. The rooms are not particularly spectacular, but the public areas are very evocative of vieux Paris (old Paris), with their beamed ceilings, ancient stone walls and mock-Gothic chairs. Room rates include breakfast.

HÔTEL DE NESLE Map    Hotel €€

01 43 54 62 41; www.hoteldenesleparis.com; 7 rue de Nesle, 6e; s €55-85, d €75-100; Odéon or Mabillon

The Nesle, a relaxed, colourfully decorated hotel in a quiet street west of place St-Michel, is such a fun place to stay. Most of its 20 rooms are painted with brightly coloured naive murals inspired by French literature. But its greatest asset is the huge (by Parisian standards) garden – a back yard really – accessible from the 1st floor, with pathways, trellis and even a small fountain. For a garden-facing room choose room 12.

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ALSO RECOMMENDED

 
  • Hôtel de l’Abbaye Saint Germain (Map; 01 45 44 38 11; www.hotelabbayeparis.com; 10 rue Cassette, 6e; r €215-340, ste €395-480; St-Sulpice) New to us, this four-star hotel southeast of Église St-Sulpice even impresses the experts (opposite).
  • Hôtel Le Petit Trianon (Map; 01 43 54 94 64; 2 rue de l’Ancienne Comédie, 6e; s €39, s with shower €50, d €60-65, tr €75; Odéon) This old standby has 13 very basic rooms dispersed over six floors, with rooms 17 and 20 catching a fleeting glimpse of Notre Dame.

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MONTPARNASSE

Located just to the east of Gare Montparnasse (the mammoth train station that also houses the Montparnasse Bienvenüe metro station), there are several two- and three-star places situated on rue Vandamme and rue de la Gaîté – though the latter is rife with sex shops and peep shows. Gare Montparnasse is served by Air France buses from both airports. Place Denfert Rochereau is also usefully linked to both airports by Orlybus, Orlyval and RER.

The budget places in the 14e don’t usually see many foreign tourists because of the dearth of sights in the area, but that means the accommodation is usually better value for money.

HÔTEL DELAMBRE Map     Hotel €€

01 43 20 66 31; www.hoteldelambre.com; 35 rue Delambre, 14e; s & d €80-115, ste €150-160; Montparnasse Bienvenüe;

This very attractive 30-room hotel just east of Gare Montparnasse takes wrought iron as a theme and uses it both in functional pieces (bed frames, lamps, shelving) and decorative items throughout. Room 7 has its own little terrace while rooms 1 and 2 look onto a small private courtyard. The writer André Breton (1896–1966) lived here in the 1920s.

HÔTEL ODESSA Map     Hotel     €€

01 43 20 64 78; www.paris-hotel-odessa.com; 28 rue d’Odessa, 14e; s €75, d €90, tw €95, tr/q €110/120; Montparnasse Bienvenüe

This hotel on the street of crêperies has 42 unspectacular but bright and airy rooms. Double-glazing keeps out the racket of Montparnasse below, and the train station is a mere two minutes’ away on foot.

HÔTEL DE L’ESPÉRANCE Map     Hotel     €€

01 43 21 63 84; [email protected]; 45 rue de la Gaîté, 14e; s €55-70, d €85, tw €99; Gaîté

This 15-room place, along a street lined with sex shops and other less-than-salubrious establishments one usually finds around train stations, has had a protracted (and rather superficial) refit but remains good value for what (and where) it is.

PETIT PALACE HÔTEL Map     Hotel €€

01 43 22 05 25; www.paris-hotel-petit-palace.com; 131 av du Maine, 14e; s €60-69, d/q €79/99; Gaîté;

This friendly (and rather ambitiously named) two-star hotel right on a main boulevard south of Montparnasse has been run by the same family for half a century. It has 41 smallish but spotless rooms, all of which have showers and toilets.

CELTIC HÔTEL Map     Hotel €

01 43 20 93 53; [email protected]; 15 rue d’Odessa, 14e; s €45-56, d €63-70, tr €80; Edgar Quinet

A cheapie of the old school and still resisting a website, this 29-room hotel is an old-fashioned place with a small lift and an up-to-date reception area with new furniture. The cheaper singles are pretty bare and even the en suite doubles and triples are not exactly tout confort (with all the mod cons), but Gare Montparnasse is only 200m away.

HÔTEL DE BLOIS Map     Hotel €

01 45 40 99 48; www.hoteldeblois.com; 5 rue des Plantes, 14e; s €55-75, d €59-80, tw €58-66, tr €70-85; Mouton Duvernet;

This 25-room establishment just off the av du Maine has been completely overhauled and is now a very pleasant and affordable one-star just south of Gare Montparnasse. Rooms, smallish but fully equipped, have a shower or bath but some share use of the toilet down the hall. Staff are very helpful and friendly.

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FAUBOURG ST-GERMAIN & INVALIDES

The 7e is a lovely arrondissement in which to stay, but apart from the northeast section – the area east of Invalides and opposite the Louvre – it’s fairly quiet here.

HÔTEL VERNEUIL Map     Hotel €€€

01 42 60 82 14; www.hotelverneuil.com; 8 rue de Verneuil, 7e; s €140, d €170-220; St-Germain des Prés;

Chic and cosy, this lovely hotel is in a 17th-century building in a quiet street just off blvd St-Germain des Prés. It has 26 individually decorated rooms (half of which have air conditioning) and the décor tries hard to reflect this quartier full of galleries and antique shops, with engravings and original artwork on the walls throughout. The beamed salon off the lobby feels like a library in a private home and there is some lovely stained glass in the hallways.

HÔTEL DE VARENNE Map    Hotel €€€

01 45 51 45 55; www.hoteldevarenne.com; 44 rue de Bourgogne, 7e; s & d €137-177, tr €167-187; Varenne; Filles du Calvaire;

Very refined, very classic and very quiet, this hotel tucked at the end of a courtyard garden with fountain has something of a country feel to it. Most of the two dozen rooms spread over four floors look into the courtyard and a very sizable choice is room 22. The Musée Rodin is within spitting distance.

HÔTEL ST-DOMINIQUE Map     Hotel €€

01 47 05 51 44; www.hotelstdominique.com; 62 rue St-Dominique, 7e; s €115, d €135-155; Invalides;

This hotel, with its beamed ceilings, ancient stone walls, and large and leafy back patio, where breakfast is served in fine weather, is located between Invalides and the Eiffel Tower. Only some of the 37 rooms have had a refit, so insist on one of those (eg room 2). A very quiet choice is room 10, which looks out onto the patio.

HÔTEL MUGUET Map     Hotel €€

01 47 05 05 93; www.hotelmuguet.com; 11 rue Chevert, 7e; s/d/tr €103/135/180; La Tour Maubourg; Filles du Calvaire;

This hotel, strategically placed between Invalides and the Eiffel Tower, has 48 generous sized rooms that have been recently renovated. Room 63 is bathed in light and takes in the Église du Dôme, while room 62 has a mansard ceiling but wins the lottery with views of the Eiffel Tower. The glassed in breakfast room has access to a delightful courtyard garden.

HÔTEL LENOX ST-GERMAIN Map     Hotel €€

01 42 96 10 95; www.lenoxsaintgermain.com;

9 rue de l’Université, 7e; s & d €130-220, ste €270-290; Rue du Bac;

This hotel has 34 simple, comfortable rooms and a late-opening 1930s-style bar called the Lenox Club that attracts a chic clientele. The Art Deco décor (burlwood panelling and glass tabletops) is a treat, and the fine leather armchairs in the lobby are more than comfortable.

HÔTEL LINDBERGH Map     Hotel €€

01 45 48 35 53; www.hotellindbergh.com; 5 rue Chomel, 7e; s & d €98-160, tr €156-180, q €166-190; Sèvres Babylone;

We still haven’t figured out why this hotel de charme is totally kitted out in Charles Lindbergh photos and memorabilia or named after him, but somehow it all works. The 26 guestrooms are done up in shades of chocolate and red, with silk fabric on the walls and rush matting on the floors. We like the room-number plates on the doors with little Paris landmarks, the ample-sized bathrooms and the very friendly staff.

GRAND HÔTEL LÉVÈQUE Map     Hotel €€

01 47 05 49 15; www.hotel-leveque.com; 29 rue Cler, 7e; s €60, d €90-115, tr €130; École Militaire;

This partially renovated 50-room hotel is recommended less for its charms than its bon rapport qualité prix (good value for money) and an excellent location overlooking rue Cler and its market. Choose any room ending in 1, 2 or 3, all of which have two windows overlooking the market. For those travellers seeking silence, your best bet is one of the rooms facing the courtyard but they’re darker and smaller (eg room 10). Singles here are miniscule.

HÔTEL DU CHAMP-DE-MARS Map    Hotel €€

01 45 51 52 30; www.hotelduchampdemars.com; 7 rue de Champ de Mars, 7e; s/d/tw/tr €84/90/94/112; École Militaire;

This charming 25-room hotel is on everyone’s wish list so book a good month or two in advance if you want to wake up in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower. The attractive shop-front entrance leads into a colourful lobby done up in yellow and charcoal. Rooms on the lower floors can be downright cupboardlike, though; go up higher (in floors and price) and you might earn a glimpse of Mademoiselle Eiffel herself.

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EIFFEL TOWER AREA & 16E ARRONDISSEMENT

Not surprisingly, these two very chic neighbourhoods are somewhat short on budget and midrange accommodation options.

HÔTEL SEZZ Click here    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 56 75 26 26; www.hotelsezz.com; 6 av Frémiet, 16e; s €280-335, d & tw €330-460, ste €440-660; Passy;

Punning on the number of the posh arrondissement – 16 (seize in French) – in which it finds itself, this boutique bonanza is heavy on design (think Christophe Pillet), technology and l’esprit zen (zen spirit). The 27 rooms, more than half of which are suites, are spacious and done up in reds and blacks, and lots of glass. There’s a hammam, Jacuzzi and massage room, and the bar specialises in champagne. Each guest has their own personal assistant during their stay.

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ÉTOILE & CHAMPS-ÉLYSÉES

Like the 1er, the 8e is for the most part home to deluxe hotels, though there are a few top-end favourites in the vicinity of place Charles de Gaulle.

HÔTEL DE CRILLON Map    Hotel €€

01 44 71 15 00; www.crillon.com; 10 place de la Concorde, 8e; s €750, d €750-930, ste from €1200; Concorde;

This colonnaded 200-year-old ‘jewel in the heart of Paris’, whose sparkling public areas (including Jean-François Piège’s Les Ambassadeurs restaurant, with two Michelin stars) are sumptuously decorated with chandeliers, original sculptures, gilt mouldings, tapestries and inlaid furniture, is the epitome of French luxury. The 147 rooms are spacious with king-sized beds and have floor-to-ceiling marble bathrooms with separate shower and bath. And Le Crillon is not just a pretty face; in 1778 the treaty in which France recognised the independence of the new USA was signed here by Louis XVI and Benjamin Franklin.

HÔTEL LE A Map    Boutique Hotel €€

01 42 56 99 99; www.paris-hotel-a.com; 4 rue d’Artois, 8e; r €355-431, ste €485-640; St-Philippe du Roule; Filles du Calvaire;

The 26-room ‘A’ (think ‘list’) is an über-stylish minimalist hotel that doesn’t have any of the attitude that generally goes with the concept. White, black and grey predominate and help ‘frame’ the fabulous contemporary art by painter Fabrice Hybert. The airy spaces (the breakfast area and bar are in a glassed-in courtyard), fireplace and real books (as opposed to decorative items) in the lobby for guests’ use are as welcome as the nonsmoking floor, but rooms are on the petite side.

HÔTEL DES CHAMPS-ELYSÉES Map    Hotel €€

01 43 59 11 42; www.champselysees-paris-hotel.com; 2 rue d’Artois, 8e; s €105-115, d €117-130, tr €143-150; St-Philippe du Roule;

A lovely hotel on a quiet street just up from the brash avenue of the same name, the Champs-Elysées offers 35 rooms with their own custom-made wooden furniture and renovated bathrooms done up in white tiles. We love the skylit lounge/study with the mural just off the lobby.

HÔTEL ALISON Map     Hotel €€

01 42 65 54 00; www.hotelalison.com; 21 rue de Surène, 8e; s €80-165, d €112-165, tw €135-145, tr €165, ste €204-290; Madeleine;

This excellent-value 34-room midrange hotel, just west of place de la Madeleine, attracts with the bold colours of its carpets and furnishings and modern art in the lobby. Prices depend on whether rooms have bath or shower and the view. Double room 37 (€112), for example, looks on to rue Surène, while room 31 (€145) overlooks a leafy patio.

HÔTEL DE SÈZE Map    Hotel €€

01 47 42 69 12; www.hoteldeseze.com; 16 rue de Sèze, 9e; s €107-110, d & tw €120-150, tr €140; Madeleine

On no account to be confused with its almost namesake, the posh Hôtel Sezz in the 16e, this 25-room no-frills establishment is excellent value for its location – it’s so close to the place de la Madeleine you’ll wake up smelling the coffee from Fauchon. For a real treat, ask for the double with Jacuzzi.

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CLICHY & GARE ST-LAZARE

These areas offer some excellent midrange and reasonably priced top-end hotels. The better deals are away from Gare St-Lazare but there are several places along rue d’Amsterdam beside the station worth checking out. Clichy offers a couple of very unusual places to stay in the budget category.

HÔTEL FAVART Map    Hotel €€

01 42 97 59 83; www.hotel-paris-favart.com; 5 rue Marivaux, 2e; s €100-130, d €130-160, tr €140-180, q €155-200; Richelieu Drouot;

This stylish Art Nouveau hotel with 37 rooms facing the Opéra Comique feels like it never let go of the belle époque. It’s an excellent choice if you’re interested in shopping, being within easy walking distance of the grands magasins on blvd Haussmann. We like the prints on the walls in the lobby and the dramatic wrought-iron staircase leading up to the 1st floor, but not the fake books.

AUSTIN’S ST-LAZARE Map     Hotel €€

01 48 74 48 71; www.hotelaustins.com; 26 rue d’Amsterdam, 9e; s/d €98/135; St-Lazare

This hotel, located conveniently opposite Gare St-Lazare, has 36 rooms. Just steps away are the department stores of the Grand Boulevards and the fine food shops of place de la Madeleine.

NEW ORIENT HÔTEL Map     Hotel €€

01 45 22 21 64; www.hotelneworient.com; 16 rue de Constantinople, 8e; s €89-115, d €106-115, tw €115-140, tr & q €150; Europe; Filles du Calvaire;

This delightful place is situated in a neighbourhood of the 8e north of Gare St-Lazare that seems to have only shops that sell musical instruments and/or sheet music. It has a lot of personality, especially in the public areas. The 30 guestrooms are not as nice, though several have Second Empire furnishings and decorative busts. Some, including twin room 7 and double room 8, even have little balconies.

HÔTEL BRITANNIA Map    Hotel €€

01 42 85 36 36; www.hotelbritannia.com; 24 rue d’Amsterdam, 9e; s/d/tr €79/89/105; St-Lazare;

This 46-room place with narrow hallways but pleasant, clean rooms is just opposite Gare St-Lazare and a quick walk to the grands magasins (department stores) on blvd Haussmann. The plaster reliefs of Roman citizens lining the entrance hall are from the Louvre and give the place something of a classical feel. Ask about the three-night packages.

HÔTEL AURORE MONTMARTRE Map    Hotel €€

01 48 74 85 56; www.montmartre-hotel-paris.com; 76 rue de Clichy, 9e; s €65-85, d €70-105, tr €99-140; Place de Clichy;

The lobby and the lift may both be pint-sized and Montmartre ain’t exactly one street over, but some of the 24 rooms of this hotel between place de Clichy and the Gare St-Lazare have balconies (eg room 54) overlooking the street and quite striking black-and-white bathrooms. And the price is certainly right for the location.

HÔTEL ELDORADO Map     Hotel €

01 45 22 35 21; www.eldoradohotel.fr; 18 rue des Dames, 17e; s €35-57, d & tw €68-80, tr €80-90; Place de Clichy

This bohemian place is one of Paris’ greatest finds: a welcoming, reasonably well-run place with 23 colourfully decorated and (often) ethnically themed rooms in a main building on a quiet street and in an annexe with a private garden at the back. We love rooms 1 and 2 in the garden annexe; the choicest rooms in the main building are Nos 16 and 17 with their own terraces leading out into the garden. Cheaper-category singles have washbasin only. The hotel’s excellent Bistro des Dames is a bonus.

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OPÉRA & GRANDS BOULEVARDS

The avenues around blvd Montmartre are popular for their nightlife area and it’s a lively area in which to stay. It’s very convenient for shopping as this is where you’ll find Paris’ premium department stores Click here.

HÔTEL RÉSIDENCE DES 3 POUSSINS Map    Hotel €€

01 53 32 81 81; www.les3poussins.com; 15 rue Clauzel, 9e; s/d & tw €137/152, 1- or 2-person studio €187, 3- or 4-person studio €222; St-Georges;

A lovely hotel due south of place Pigalle, it has 40 rooms, half of which are small studios with their own cooking facilities. This place reeks of style – from the classical music in the lobby to the artistically designed lift up to the bedrooms – and the back patio is a delightful place in the warmer months for breakfast or a drink.

HÔTEL LANGLOIS Map    Hotel €€

01 48 74 78 24; www.hotel-langlois.com; 63 rue St-Lazare, 9e; s €105-120, d & tw €120-140, ste €180; Trinité;

Built in 1870, this 27-room hotel has kept its charming belle époque look. The rooms and suites (eg rooms 11 and 15) are large for a smallish hotel in Paris; most have sandstone fireplaces that, sadly, have been decommissioned, and many retain original bathroom fixtures and tiles. Room 64 has wonderful views of the rooftops of Montmartre.

HÔTEL DES ARTS Map    Hotel €€

01 42 46 73 30; [email protected]; 7 Cité Bergère, 9e; s/d/tr €84/92/102; Grands Boulevards;

This quirky place with pink geraniums adorning each exterior window is in a quiet little alley off rue du Faubourg Montmartre. It has 25 rooms recently redone in shades of plum and burgundy, and there seems to be a bird theme (vintage bird prints, caged parrot in the lobby) throughout.

HÔTEL PELETIER HAUSSMANN OPÉRA Map    Hotel €€

01 42 46 79 53; www.peletieropera.com; 15 rue Le Peletier, 9e; s €70-90, d €80-100, tr €86-110; Richelieu Drouot;

This is a pleasant 26-room hotel just off blvd Haussmann and close to the big department stores. Attractive packages are available at the weekend, depending on the season. Internet access here costs €2 for 15 minutes.

HÔTEL CHOPIN Map    Hotel €€

01 47 70 58 10; www.hotelchopin.fr; 46 passage Jouffroy & 10 blvd Montmartre, 9e; s €50-78, d €81-92, tr €109; Grands Boulevards

Dating back to 1846, the Chopin is down one of Paris’ most delightful 19th-century passages couverts (covered shopping arcades) and a great deal for its location right off the Grands Boulevards (entrance at 10 blvd Montmartre). The sprawling 36-room hotel may be a little faded, but it’s still enormously evocative of the belle époque. After 10pm, when the arcade closes, ring the sonnette de nuit (night doorbell).

HÔTEL VICTORIA Map    Hotel €€

01 47 70 20 01; www.hotelvictoria.free.fr; 2bis Cité Bergère, 9e; s/d/tr €71/77/93; Grands Boulevards

This 107-room old-style hotel in a quiet alleyway just off the Grands Boulevards is a good choice if you’re looking for central budget accommodation on the Right Bank. The rooms are generally unexceptional but of a good size, and the welcome is warm.

WOODSTOCK HOSTEL Map    Hostel €

01 48 78 87 76; www.woodstock.fr; 48 rue Rodier, 9e; per person dm/d Oct-Mar €19/22, Apr-Sep €22/25; Anvers;

This friendly hostel is just down the hill from raucous place Pigalle in a quiet residential quarter. Dorm beds are in rooms sleeping four to six people in bunk beds, and each room has washbasin only; showers and toilets are off the corridor. Rooms are shut from 11am to 3pm, and the (enforced) curfew is at 2am. The spanking eat-in kitchen, situated down the steps from the patio has everything. Internet access is available for €2 for 30 minutes; wi-fi is free.

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GARE DU NORD, GARE DE L’EST & RÉPUBLIQUE

The areas east and northeast of the Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est have always had a more than ample selection of hotels; there are a few two- and three-star places around the train stations in the 10e that are convenient if you’re catching an early train to London or want to crash immediately upon arrival. Place de la République is relatively convenient for the nightlife areas of Ménilmontant.

Gare du Nord is linked to Charles de Gaulle airport by RER and RATP (Régie Autonome des Transports Parisians) bus 350, and to Orly airport by Orlyval. Bus 350 to/from Charles de Gaulle airport also stops right in front of the Gare de l’Est.

HÔTEL FRANÇAIS Map     Hotel €€

01 40 35 94 14; www.hotelfrancais.com; 13 rue du 8 Mai 1945, 10e; s €94-101, d €99-106, tr €134-141; Gare de l’Est; Filles du Calvaire;

This two-star hotel facing the Gare de l’Est has 72 attractive, almost luxurious and very quiet rooms, some of which have balconies. The place has recently been freshened up; we love the new mock café breakfast area.

GRAND HÔTEL DE PARIS Map    Hotel €€

01 46 07 40 56; [email protected]; 72 blvd de Strasbourg, 10e; s/d/tr/q €80/86/105/122; Gare de l’Est

The Grand Hôtel de Paris is a well-run establishment just south of Gare de l’Est on blvd de Strasbourg. It has 49 soundproofed rooms and a tiny lift, and is a pleasant place to stay if you’re in the area. The quads are especially spacious and suitable for a small family; try room 53, or room 33 which has a small balcony.

HÔTEL LA VIEILLE FRANCE Map    Hotel €€

01 45 26 42 37; [email protected]; 151 rue La Fayette, 10e; s €48, d €75-85, tr €120; Gare du Nord;

This is an upbeat, 34-room place with relatively spacious and pleasant rooms, though with Gare du Nord so close it’s bound to be somewhat noisy. Singles have washbasins only, but communal showers are free.

NORD-EST HÔTEL Map     Hotel €

01 47 70 07 18; [email protected]; 12 rue des Petits Hôtels, 10e; s/d/tr/q €65/75/110/145; Poissonnière;

This unusual 30-room hotel is set away from the street and fronted by a small terrace. It is convenient to both Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est. Internet access costs an extortionate €8/12 for 30/60 minutes.

SIBOUR HÔTEL Map    Hotel €

01 46 07 20 74; www.hotel-sibour.com, in French; 4 rue Sibour, 10e; s €40-60, d €45-65, tr/q €80/110; Gare de l’Est

This friendly place has 45 well-kept rooms, including some which are a bit old-fashioned (the cheapest singles and doubles) and have washbasins only. Communal showers cost €3. Some of the rooms look down on pretty Église de St-Laurent. We love the trompe l’oeil mural in the breakfast room.

HÔTEL LIBERTY Map    Hotel €

01 42 08 60 58; www.libertyhotel.net; 16 rue de Nancy, 10e; s €35-47, d €42-55, tw €42-58, tr €70; Château d’Eau

The Liberty is a 42-room hotel situated just south of Gare de l’Est with clean, partially renovated but very plain, functional rooms. The cheapest singles and doubles have washbasins only; communal showers cost €3.

PEACE AND LOVE HOSTEL Map    Hostel €

01 46 07 65 11; www.paris-hostels.com; 245 rue La Fayette, 10e; per person dm/d €25/30; Jaurès or Louis Blanc;

This modern-day hippy hangout is a groovy though chronically crowded hostel with beds in 21 smallish, shower-equipped rooms for two to four people. There’s a great kitchen and eating area, but most of the action seems to revolve around the ground-floor bar (open till 2am), which boasts more than two dozen types of beer. Internet access costs from €1.

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GARE DE LYON, NATION & BERCY

The development of Bercy Village, with its selection of restaurants and bars, has done much to resuscitate the 12e. The neighbourhood around Gare de Lyon has a few budget hotels and a popular independent hostel.

HÔTEL DU PRINTEMPS Map    Hotel €

01 43 43 62 31; www.hotel-paris-printemps.com; 80 blvd de Picpus, 12e; s/d €50/60, tw €65-70, tr €75-80, q €88; Picpus;

It may not be in the centre of the action, but the 38-room ‘Spring Hotel’ offers excellent value for its standard and location, just steps from place de la Nation. What’s more, there’s an inhouse bar open day and night. Singles have showers but share a toilet; doubles have everything.

HÔTEL LE COSY Map     Hotel €

01 43 43 10 02; www.hotel-cosy.com; 50 av de St-Mandé, 12e; s €40-65, d €50-99; Picpus;

This family-run budget hotel immediately southeast of place de la Nation positively oozes charm. The 28 rooms, though basic (the cheapest singles and doubles have washbasins only), are all different, decorated in warm pastels with original artwork by a young painter from Marseilles and have hardwood floors. If feeling flush, choose one of four ‘VIP’ rooms in the courtyard annexe, especially room 3 or 4 on the 1st floor.

HOSTEL BLUE PLANET Map    Hostel €

01 43 42 06 18; www.hostelblueplanet.com; 5 rue Hector Malot, 12e; dm €21; Gare de Lyon;

This 43-room hostel is very close to Gare de Lyon – convenient if you’re heading south or west at the crack of dawn or arriving in the wee hours. Dorm beds are in rooms for two to four people and the hostel closes between 11am and 3pm. There’s no curfew. Internet access costs €3/6 for 30/60 minutes.

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13E ARRONDISSEMENT & CHINATOWN

The 13e is where you’ll find the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, as well as the péniches (barges) on the Seine fitted out with music clubs and restaurants. The southern 13e is a happy hunting ground for budget hotels.

HÔTEL LA DEMEURE Map    Hotel €€€

01 43 37 81 25; www.hotellademeureparis.com; 51 blvd St-Marcel, 13e; s/d €165/202, ste €290; Les Gobelins; Filles du Calvaire;

This self-proclaimed hotel de caractère, owned and operated by a charming father-son team who always seem to be at hand, is a bit away from the action at the bottom of the 5e. But the refined elegance of its 43 rooms, the almost ‘clubby’ public areas in warm red and orange tones and the wraparound balconies of the corner rooms make it worth going the extra distance. Famed for those extra touches, the suite has an iPod, and the modern red fireplace in the lobby actually works.

HÔTEL LA MANUFACTURE Map    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 45 35 45 25; www.hotel-la-manufacture.com; 8 rue Philippe de Champagne, 13e; s €120-145, d €165-195, tr €195-230, q €266-278; Place d’Italie; Filles du Calvaire;

The graceful, minimalist La Manufacture is located on the fringe of the Latin Quarter. The 57 individually decorated rooms adhere to clean lines and sport very bold plumage. Rooms on the top (7th) floor are the most spacious and coveted; room 71 boasts a view of the Panthéon while room 74 glimpses the Eiffel Tower. The lobby bar is a delight.

PARK & SUITES GRANDE BIBLIOTHÈQUE Map    Serviced Apartment €€

01 53 61 62 00; www.mysuiteapparthotels.com; 15 rue de Tolbiac, 13e; ste with kitchenette for 1-/2-person €142, for 3-/4-person €151/158, €889/917/994 per week; Bibliothèque;

Close to the Bibliothèque Nationale de France these 70 fully equipped studios for up to four people are a good choice if you want to stay in the Bercy area. Rates drop to as low as €93/98/103 per night for longer stays.

GRAND HÔTEL DES GOBELINS Map    Hotel €€

01 43 31 79 89; www.hotel-des-gobelins.com; 57 blvd St-Marcel, 13e; s €90-100, d €105-150, tr €150-185; Gobelins; Filles du Calvaire;

This three-star Logis de France hotel may be a bit out of the way but rue Mouffetard and its market Click here is just minutes away. Both the 45 rooms and the public areas are particularly stylish; framed fragments of 18th-century Gobelins tapestry and the painter Maladir’s Atelier à St-Petersbourg add warmth to the already cosy lobby. You’ll pay more for the air-conditioned ‘superior’ rooms facing the back than you will for the noisy ones on the boulevard.

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15E ARRONDISSEMENT

The 15e, some people’s least favourite arrondissement in Paris, offers some decent accommodation options, especially when it comes to chain hotels.

The 15e is home to two hostels under the same management and very well known among backpackers and budget travellers: the Aloha Hostel (see below) and the Three Ducks Hostel. Based on feedback from readers, Lonely Planet no longer recommends the Three Ducks, but the Aloha still gets the thumbs up.

HÔTEL AMIRAL FONDARY Map    Hotel €€

01 45 75 14 75; www.amiral-fondary.com, in French; 30 rue Fondary, 15e; s €74-90, d & tw €85-90; Av Émile Zola; Filles du Calvaire;

This reasonably priced hotel in the far-flung (but well-served by metro) 15e is an excellent choice for the price. The 20 rooms are modest but well maintained; choose one looking onto the pretty (and very leafy) little courtyard that is such a delight in the warm weather.

HÔTEL CARLADEZ CAMBRONNE Map    Hotel €€

01 47 34 07 12; www.hotelcarladez.com; 3 pl du Généra Beuret, 15e; s €76-89, d €79-93, tw €83-95, ste €97-141; Vaugirard;

A small, very dynamic hotel overlooking an attractive square, the CC has 28 comfortable rooms that look onto a courtyard – the suite/apartment is in an annexe which has direct access to it from the street. While the former rooms are quieter, the latter are larger. The public areas have that ‘just in from Indonesia’ look; the complimentary coffee- and tea-making facilities are a nice touch.

ALOHA HOSTEL Map    Hostel €

01 42 73 03 03; www.aloha.fr; 1 rue Borromée, 15e; per person dm/d Nov-Mar €19/23, Apr-Oct €23/26; Volontaires;

The Aloha is a laid-back hostel north of rue de Vaugirard. The rooms, which have two to six beds and sometimes a shower en suite, are locked from 11am to 5pm (though reception remains open) and curfew is at 2am. Kitchen facilities are available. Internet access costs €2 for 30 minutes, but wi-fi is free.

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MONTMARTRE & PIGALLE

Montmartre, encompassing the 18e and the northern part of the 9e, is one of the most charming neighbourhoods in Paris. There is a bunch of top-end hotels in the area, and the attractive two-star places on rue Aristide Bruant are generally less full in July and August than in the spring and autumn.

The flat area around the base of the Butte de Montmartre has some surprisingly good deals. The lively, ethnically mixed area east of Sacré Cœur can be a bit rough; some people say it’s prudent to avoid Château Rouge metro station at night. Both the 9e and the 18e have fine and recommended hostels.

KUBE HÔTEL Map    Boutique Hotel €€€

01 42 05 20 00; www.kubehotel.com; 1-5 passage Ruelle, 18e; s €250, d €300-400, ste €500-750; La Chapelle; Filles du Calvaire;

The easternmost edge of the 18e, virtually the lap of Gare du Nord, is the last place in Paris you’d expect to find an über-trendy boutique hotel, but this 41-room hostelry manages to pull it off. The theme here is, of course, three dimensional square – from the glassed-in reception box in the entrance courtyard to the cube-shaped furnishings in the 41 guestrooms to the ice in the cocktails at the celebrated Ice Kube bar. The offspring of the stylish Murano Urban Resort the Kube might have been less open-handed with the florescent reds and faux fur, but if that’s what it takes to get guests to trek all the way to La Chapelle, so be it.

TERRASS HÔTEL Map     Hotel €€€

01 46 06 72 85; www.terrass-hotel.com; 12 rue Joseph de Maistre, 18e; s & d €260-325, ste €355-375; Blanche; Filles du Calvaire;

This very sedate, stylish hotel at the southeastern corner of Montmartre Cemetery and due east of the Butte de Montmartre (Montmartre Hill) has 92 spacious and well-designed rooms and suites, an excellent restaurant and bar, and quite simply the best views in town. For the ultimate Parisian experience, choose double room 608 for stunning views of the Eiffel Tower and Panthéon or room 802, which boasts its own private terrace. The rooms on floors 4, 5 and 6 were designed by Kenzo.


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BUDGET HOTELS
 

HÔTEL DES ARTS Map     Hotel €€

01 46 06 30 52; www.arts-hotel-paris.com; 5 rue Tholozé, 18e; s €75-95, d & tw €95-105, tr €160; Abbesses or Blanche;

This friendly and attractive 50-room hotel, convenient to both place Pigalle and Montmartre, has gained another star and added a few euros to its rates. Towering over it is the old-style windmill Moulin de la Galette. The resident canine is very friendly indeed.

HÔTEL REGYN’S MONTMARTRE Map    Hotel €€

01 42 54 45 21; www.hotel-regyns-paris.com; 18 place des Abbesses, 18e; s €79-89, d & tw €91-111, tr €117-131; Abbesses;

This 22-room hotel is a good choice if you want to stay in old Montmartre and not break the bank. It’s just opposite the Abbesses metro station, which happens to have one of the best preserved Art Nouveau entrance canopies designed by Hector Guimard (Click here), and outside the hotel is a lovely old plane tree. Some of the rooms have views out over Paris.

HÔTEL DU MOULIN Map     Hotel €€

01 42 64 33 33; www.hotelmoulin.com; 3 rue Aristide Bruant, 18e; s/d/tr €83/88/106; Abbesses or Blanche;

This quiet little hotel has 27 good-sized rooms, with toilet and bath or a shower in both a main building and a garden annexe. The Korean family who own the place are very kind. Check out their fun website.

HÔTEL UTRILLO Map     Hotel €€

01 42 58 42 58; www.hotel-paris-utrillo.com; 7 rue Aristide Bruant, 18e; s €73, d & tw €83-88, tr €105; Abbesses or Blanche;

This friendly 30-room hotel, named after the ‘painter of Montmartre’ Maurice Utrillo (1883–1955) and decorated in primary colours, can boast a few extras such as a little courtyard and small sauna.

HÔTEL BONSÉJOUR MONTMARTRE Map    Hotel €

01 42 54 22 53; www.hotel-bonsejour-montmartre.fr; 11 rue Burq, 18e; s €33-40, d €44-55, tr €58-65; Abbesses;

At the top of a quiet street in Montmartre, this is a perennial budget favourite. It’s a simple place to stay – no lift, linoleum or parquet floors – but welcoming, comfortable, very clean and getting a protracted (and much needed) facelift. Some rooms (eg Nos 14, 23, 33, 43 and 53) have little balconies attached and at least one room (No 55) offers a fleeting glimpse of Sacré Cœur. Communal showers cost €2.

STYLE HOTEL Map    Hotel €

01 45 22 37 59; fax 01 45 22 81 03; 8 rue Ganneron, 18e; s & d €35-50, tr/q €57/67; La Fourche

This 36-room hotel just north of place de Clichy and west of Cimetière de Montmartre is a titch rough around the edges (ie rough wooden floors, old runner carpets in the hallways) but is loaded with character and the welcome is always charming. There’s a lovely double glassed-in courtyard, but no lift. The cheapest singles and doubles are equipped with washbasin only.

LE VILLAGE HOSTEL Map    Hostel €

01 42 64 22 02; www.villagehostel.fr; 20 rue d’Orsel, 18e; per person dm/d/tr €20/24/30/27; Anvers;

A fine 25-room hostel with beamed ceilings, a lovely outside terrace and views of Sacré Cœur. Dormitory beds are in rooms for four to six people and all have shower and toilet. Kitchen facilities are available, and there’s a popular bar too. Rooms are closed between 11am and 4pm for cleaning, but there is no curfew. Internet access is available for €1/3.50 for 15/60 minutes.

PRATIC HÔTEL Map     Hotel €

01 46 06 27 61; 31 rue Germain Pilon, 18e; s/d €18/24, d with shower €35; Abbesses

As cheap as chips with almost the same odeur, this 33-room ultra-budget place has price, location and a warm welcome in its favour.


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EXCURSIONS


    INFORMATION
    ORGANISED TOURS
VERSAILLES
    INFORMATION
    EATING
    SLEEPING
FONTAINEBLEAU
    INFORMATION
    EATING
    SLEEPING
VAUX-LE-VICOMTE
CHANTILLY
    INFORMATION & ORIENTATION
    EATING
    SLEEPING
CHARTRES
    INFORMATION
    EATING
    SLEEPING
GIVERNY
    INFORMATION
    EATING & SLEEPING
AUVERS-SUR-OISE
    INFORMATION
    EATING & SLEEPING
DISNEYLAND RESORT PARIS
    EATING & SLEEPING
PARC ASTÉRIX
    INFORMATION
REIMS
    INFORMATION
    EATING & SLEEPING


Strike out into the Île de France (literally ‘Island of France’), the romantically named 12,000-sq-km area around Paris. Framed by five rivers and rich in fairytale chateaux, breathtaking cathedrals and forest rife with game, it was here that the seed of the kingdom of France was sown in 1100.

Some day trips are obvious: Versailles (below), with its palace and equestrian academy, and Fontainebleau, the other fabled chateau, are little more than half an hour away. Those who hate crowds should consider art-rich Chantilly with its heavenly stables, gardens and woodlands, or lesser-known Vaux-le-Vicomte, created by the same architect who designed Versailles.

The other quick-flit heavyweight is Chartres and its cathedral, one of Western architecture’s greatest achievements with its mesmerising medieval stained glass. Art lovers will find Giverny, with the pink-and-green house and flower-filled garden lived in and painted by Monet from 1883 to 1926, equally inspiring. Strangely moving is Auvers-sur-Oise, the place where van Gogh painted like mad for two months before dying in the bedroom of a cheap inn from a self-inflicted bullet wound: both painter shrines take little over an hour to get to. Then there’s Champagne’s gourmet tipple, Reims.

Light relief (from serious art and architecture, not crowds) comes in the frenetic form of Disneyland Resort Paris. The pricey theme park with painfully long queues might not be everyone’s tasse de thé (cup of tea), but the fact that twice as many people visit Disneyland Paris – 14.5 million in 2007 – as visit the Eiffel Tower says something. Nearer Paris, Parc Astérix is a fractionally quieter, home-grown alternative to the American theme park.

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INFORMATION

In Paris visit a tourist office Click here or the Espace du Tourisme d’Île de France (Map; 01 44 50 19 98; www.pidf.com; Galerie du Carrousel du Louvre; 99 rue de Rivoli, 1er; 10am-6pm; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre).

Gem up on exactly where you’re going with IGN’s Île de France (1:25,000; €5.20) or its more compact Paris et Ses Environs (1:100,000; €3.90), sold at book and map shops Click here.

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ORGANISED TOURS

Pressed for time or don’t want to do it alone? Hop on an air-conditioned coach:

 
  • Cityrama (Map; 01 44 55 61 00; www.pariscityrama.com; 2 rue des Pyramides, 1er; Tuileries) Half-day trips to Versailles (€45 to €62) or Chartres (€56); day trips combining Reims and Champagne vineyards (€147), Versailles apartments with Chartres (€99) or Fontainebleau (€105), and Giverny with Auvers-sur-Oise (€109).
  • Paris Vision (Map; 01 42 60 30 01; www.parisvision.com; 214 rue de Rivoli, 1er, Tuileries) Half-/day trips to Versailles or Giverny (€42/102 to €116), or Giverny and Versailles combined (€64/119). Many more including Champagne (€162), Disneyland (€79) and Astérix (€64). Coaches depart from its rue de Rivoli branch.

DAY TRIP PLANNER
In true French fashion, even the biggest of sights shut one day a week. Note the following when planning your week:
 
  • Monday – Château de Versailles (right), Auvers-sur-Oise’s van Gogh sights Click here and Monet’s house in Giverny all shut.
  • Tuesday – Château de Fontainebleau and Château d’Auvers both shut.

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VERSAILLES

Seven hundred rooms, 67 staircases, 352 chimneys, 2153 windows, 6300 paintings, 2100 sculptures and statues, 15,000 engravings, 5000 decorative art objects and furnishings, 4.7 million chateau visitors annually: no wonder visiting France’s most famous, grandest palace can be overwhelming. Six days a week (the chateau is shut Monday) tourist madness consumes the prosperous, leafy and bourgeois suburb of Versailles (population 85,300), political capital and seat of the royal court from 1682 until 1789, when Revolutionary mobs massacred the palace guard and dragged Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette back to Paris to eventually lop off their heads.

It was during the reign of Sun King Louis XIV (1643–1715) that Château de Versailles ( 0 810 811 614; www.chateauversailles.fr; palace ticket adult/under 18yr €13.50/free, from 4pm/3pm in low/high season €10/free, Passeport sold until 3pm adult/under 18yr €20/free Tue-Fri & €25/free Sat & Sun Apr-Oct, €16/free Nov-Mar; 9am-6.30pm Tue-Sun Apr-Oct, 9am-5.30pm Tue-Sun Nov-Mar) was built. The basic palace ticket and more elaborate Passeport both include an English-language audioguide and allow visitors to freely visit the palace’s state apartments, chapel, the Dauphin’s apartments and various galleries. The Passeport additionally gets you into the Grand Trianon and, in high season, the Grandes Eaux Musicales fountain displays. Enter the palace through Entrée A with a palace ticket; Entrée C with a Passeport.


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TGV CITY ESCAPES
It costs, but if you’re prepared to pay the pricey fare (the only downside of France’s otherwise impeccable, super-speedy rail service; Click here), France is your oyster as far as flitting elsewhere for a day or weekend goes. Our top five urban flits:
 
  • Lille (www.lille-tourism.com; €75-105 return; 1hr from Paris Gare du Nord) Lively Lille with its strong Flemish flavour, stylish shopping and student-driven nightlife, abuts Belgium. Hot date: first weekend in September during the mussel extravaganza, Braderie de Lille.
  • Lyon (www.lyon-france.com; €122-126 return, 2hr from Paris Gare de Lyon) Don’t tell Parisians, but France’s second-largest city is its true gastronomic capital. Wonderful museums, Roman relics, a thriving cultural scene, magnificent markets and fabulous dining make Lyon a cultured must. Avoid August, when everything is shut.
  • Marseille (www.marseille-tourisme.com; €191-266 return, 3hr from Paris Gare de Montparnasse) Raining in Paris, again? To cheer soggy spirits nothing beats watching the Mediterranean sun sink for another day over pastis (the local aniseed-flavoured aperitif) and bouillabaisse at Marseille’s Vieux Port.
  • Rennes (www.ville-rennes.fr; €104 return, 2hr from Paris Gare de Montparnasse) Crêperies, churches and half-timbered houses are the sweet lure of this picturesque old city, a university town and capital of Brittany.
  • Tours (www.ligeris.com; €80 return, 1¼hr from Paris Gare de Montparnasse & Gare d’Austerlitz) It’s not so much Tours – great cafés, buzzing bar life – as the mighty Loire Valley chateaux that can be reached from it. Essential viewing: Chenonceau and Chambord.

Intended to house his court of 6000 people, the sheer scale and décor of Versailles reflected not only the absolute power of the French monarchy but also Louis XIV’s taste for profligate luxury and appetite for self-glorification. He hired four talented men to take on the gargantuan task: architect Louis Le Vau; Jules Hardouin-Mansart, who took over from Le Vau in the mid-1670s; painter and interior designer Charles Le Brun; and landscape designer André Le Nôtre, under whom entire hills were flattened, marshes drained and forests moved to create the seemingly endless gardens, ponds and fountains for which Versailles is so well known.

The vast chateau complex – get a map from the tourist office – divides into four main sections: the 580m-long palace building with its innumerable wings, halls and bedchambers and the King’s and Queen’s State Apartments; the vast gardens, canals and pools to the west of the palace; two smaller palaces known as the Grand Trianon and the Petit Trianon; and the Hameau de la Reine (Queen’s Hamlet). Few alterations have been made to the chateau since its construction, bar most of the interior furnishings disappearing during the Revolution and many of the rooms being rebuilt by Louis-Philippe (r 1830–48), who opened part of the chateau to the public in 1837. The current €370 million restoration programme is the most ambitious yet and until it’s completed in 2020 a part of the palace is likely to be clad in scaffolding when you visit. Families with babies and young children should note that pushchairs (prams), even folded, are not allowed inside the palace and tots under one must be contained in a sling.

Luxurious and ostentatious appointments – frescoes, marble, gilt and woodcarvings, with themes and symbols drawn from Greek and Roman mythology – ooze from every last moulding, cornice, ceiling and door in the palace’s Grands Appartements du Roi et de la Reine (King’s and Queen’s State Apartments). But the opulence peaks in its shimmering, sparkling, amazing (insufficient superlatives for this one) recently restored Galerie des Glaces (Hall of Mirrors). This 75m-long ballroom with 17 giant mirrors one side and an equal number of windows the other has to be seen to be believed.

History and/or art buffs keen to delve deeper into life at court, music, Louis XV and XI’s private apartments and so on can sign up for an informative lecture tour ( 0 810 811 614; adult with/without palace ticket, Passeport or ticket to the Domaine de Marie-Antoinette €7.50/14.50, under 18yr €5.50; 9.45am-3.45pm Tue-Sun), some in English, at the main ticket office.

Château de Versailles gardens & park (Château de Versailles; admission free except Sat & Sun Apr-Oct during the Grandes Eaux Musicales; 8.30am-8.30pm Apr-Oct, 8am-6pm Nov-Mar) are vast and the only way to see it all is to hire a four-person electric car (per hr €28; drivers must be over 23 and show their driver’s licence); hop aboard the train shuttle ( 01 39 54 22 00; www.train-versailles.com; adult/11-18yr €6/4.50), which stops at the Petit Trianon, Grand Trianon and Grand Canal; or rent a bike (per hr €6, half-/full day €13.50/15) from the kiosk at the eastern end of the Grand Canal or next to the Grille de la Reine garden entrance.

The Hall of Mirrors peeps over part of the palace gardens, laid out in the formal French style between 1661 and 1700. Famed for their geometrically aligned terraces, flowerbeds, tree-lined paths, ponds and fountains, they are studded with 400 marble, bronze and lead statues sculpted by the most talented sculptors of the period – winter visitors won’t get to see them, as these are covered at this time of year. Meandering, sheltered paths snake through the more pastoral English-style Jardins du Petit Trianon.

The gardens’ largest fountains are the 17th-century Bassin de Neptune (Neptune’s Fountain), a dazzling mirage of 99 spouting fountains 300m north of the palace, and the Bassin d’Apollon (Apollo’s Fountain), built in 1668 at the eastern end of the Grand Canal. The straight side of the Bassin de Neptune abuts a small, round pond graced by a winged dragon. Emerging from the water in the centre of the Bassin d’Apollon is Apollo’s chariot, pulled by rearing horses. A truly magical, must-experience are the Grandes Eaux Musicales (Château de Versailles; adult/11-18yr/under 10yr €7/5.50/free; 11am-noon & 3.30-5.30pm Sat & Sun Apr-Sep) and Grandes Eaux Nocturnes (Château de Versailles; adult/11-18yr/under 10yr €7/5.50/free; 9.30-11.30pm Sat & Sun Jul & Aug) fountain displays set to the sweet tones of baroque and classical composers throughout the grounds in summer. The grand finale of these fabulous fountain dances to soul-stirring classical music sees the Bassin de Neptune flow for 10 minutes from 5.20pm. Set the soul stirring still further with the fountains’ fabulous summertime performances at night! Brilliantly lit, it is a performance to remember. Reserve tickets in advance at the Billetterie Spectacle ( 01 30 83 78 89; www.chateauversaillesspectacles.fr; place d’Armes; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun Apr–mid-Sep) in front of the chateau or on the same day directly at garden entrances.


TRANSPORT: VERSAILLES
 
  • Distance from Paris 21km
  • Direction Southwest
  • Travel time 35 minutes by RER/train
  • Car A13 from Porte de St-Cloud, exit ‘Versailles Château’
  • Bus 171 (€1.40 or one metro/bus ticket) from the Pont de Sèvres (15e) metro station to place d’Armes every six to nine minutes 5am to midnight
  • RER train Fastest way: the RER line C5 (€2.80) from Paris’ Left Bank RER stations to Versailles-Rive Gauche station is 700m southeast of the chateau; trains run every 15 minutes until shortly before midnight. Less convenient: RER line C8 (€2.80) stops at Versailles-Chantiers station, a 1.3km walk from the chateau.
  • SNCF train From Paris’ Gare St-Lazare (€2.80) SNCF operates 70-odd trains a day to Versailles-Rive Droite, 1.2km from the chateau. Versailles-Chantiers is likewise served by half-hourly SNCF trains daily from Gare Montparnasse (€2.80); trains on this line continue to Chartres (€10.90, 45 to 60 minutes). An SNCF package (forfait loisir) covering Paris metro, return train journey to/from Versailles and chateau admission costs €19.20.

The Grand Canal, 1.6km long and 62m wide, is oriented to reflect the setting sun and is traversed by the 1km-long Petit Canal, thus forming a cross-shaped body of water with a perimeter of over 5.5km. Louis XIV used to hold boating parties here. In summer you can paddle around the Grand Canal in four-person rowing boats; the dock is at the canal’s eastern end. The Orangerie, built below the Parterre du Midi (a flowerbed) on the southwestern side of the palace, houses exotic plants in winter.

In the middle of the vast 90-hectare park, about 1.5km northwest of the main palace, is the Domaine de Marie-Antoinette (Marie-Antoinette’s Estate; Château de Versailles; adult/adult after 5pm/under 18yr €9/5/free Apr-Oct, adult/under 18yr €5/free Nov-Mar; noon-6.30pm Apr-Oct, noon-5.30pm Nov-Mar). High-season tickets cover admission to the Grand Trianon, the Hameau de la Reine, Marie-Antoinette’s dairy, theatre, English garden and so on; low-season tickets only cover the Grand Trianon and Petit Trianon gardens, which, notably, are both free on the first Sunday of the month from November to March. The pink-colonnaded Grand Trianon was built here in 1687 for Louis XIV and his family as a place of escape from the rigid etiquette of the court. Napoleon I had it renovated in the Empire style. The ochre-coloured Petit Trianon (closed until summer 2008), dating to the 1760s, was redecorated in 1867 by consort of Napoleon III, Empress Eugénie, who added Louis XVI–style furnishings. A little further north on the estate is the Hameau de la Reine, a mock village of thatched cottages constructed from 1775 to 1784 for the amusement of Marie-Antoinette, who played milkmaid here.

Given the park is so vast, the only way of seeing it all to hire a four-person electric car (per hr €28); drivers must be over 23 and show their driver’s licence); hop aboard the train shuttle ( 01 39 54 22 00; www.train-versailles.com; adult/11-18yr €6/4.50), which stops at the Petit Trianon, Grand Trianon and Grand Canal; or rent a bike (per hr €6, half-/full day €13.50/15) from the kiosk at the eastern end of the Grand Canal or next to the Grille de la Reine garden entrance.


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TO MAKE VERSAILLES VISITS LESS HELLISH
 
  • To avoid disappointment, resign yourself to queuing for everything, be it tickets for the chateau and getting into it (two vastly different things), renting an electric car or taking a pee in the public toilets.
  • It can’t be stressed enough: buy your chateau ticket in advance of stepping foot in Versailles – online (www.chateauversailles.fr), from a branch of FNAC Click here or any SNCF train station/office (Click here).
  • Should you arrive in Versailles ticket-less, bulldoze straight to the tourist office to buy a Passeport, which allows you to enter the palace through Entrée C (rather than Entrée A, where queues are always longer).
  • By noon both queues spiral out of control: visit the palace first thing in the morning or after 4pm; avoid Tuesday and Sunday, its busiest days.
  • Save money by downloading Château de Versailles podcasts and other digital content before departure from www.podcast.chateauversailles.fr.
  • Don’t miss the show! Tickets for the Grandes Eaux Musicales and Grandes Eaux Nocturnes can be like gold dust in high season. Gem up on what’s on and reserve your seat by telephone or online ( 01 30 83 78 89; www.chateauversaillesspectacles.fr). Advance reservations are even more imperative for Bartabas’ masterful equestrian displays (right).

The attractive town of Versailles crisscrossed by wide boulevards is another Louis XIV creation. In the late 17th century the three wide thoroughfares that fan out eastwards from place d’Armes in front of the chateau – av de St-Cloud, av de Paris and av de Sceaux – were separated by two vast stable blocks. Versailles’ celebrated school of architecture fills the Petites Écuries (Little Stables) today; but it is to the Grandes Écuries (Big Stables) – stage to the prestigious Académie du Spectacle Équestre (Academy of Equestrian Arts; 01 39 02 07 14, advance ticket reservations 08 92 68 18 91; www.acadequestre.fr, online tickets http://acadequestre.fnacspectacles.com, in French; Grandes Écuries, 1 av Rockefeller; Les Matinales (morning training sessions) adult/under 18yr €9.50/6.50; 10.30am & 11.15am Sat & Sun, additional days during school holidays) – that the crowds dash. In addition to its 45-minute morning training sessions, the academy presents spectacular Reprises Musicales (musical equestrian shows; adult/12-18yr/under 12yr €25/21/16; 6pm Sat, 3pm Sun & 3pm some Thu), for which tickets sell out weeks in advance; call for information and reservations. Training sessions and shows include a stable visit. For more information, boxed text.

Nearby, the Salle du Jeu de Paume (Royal Tennis Court Room; 01 30 83 77 88; 1 rue du Jeu de Paume; admission free; 12.30-6.30pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct) was built in 1686 and played a pivotal role in the Revolution a century later. It was in Versailles that Louis XVI convened the États-Généraux made up of over 1000 deputies representing the nobility, clergy and the so-called third estate (ie the middle classes) in May 1789 in a bid to deal with national debt and to moderate dissent by reforming the tax system. But when the third estate’s reps were denied entry, they met separately on the tennis court, formed a National Assembly and took the famous Serment du Jeu de Paume (Tennis Court Oath), swearing not to dissolve it until Louis XVI had accepted a new constitution. This act of defiance sparked demonstrations of support and, less than a month later, a mob in Paris stormed the prison at Bastille.

South, behind a stone wall, slumbers the Potager du Roi (King’s Kitchen Garden; 01 39 24 62 62; www.potager-du-roi.fr, in French; 10 rue du Maréchal Joffre; adult weekday/weekend €4.50/6.50, 6-18yr €3 Apr-Oct, admission all Nov-Mar €3; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun Apr-Oct, 10am-6pm Tue & Thu, 10am-1pm Sat Nov-Mar), laid out on 9 hectares of land in the late 17th century to meet the enormous catering requirements of the court. It retains its original patch divisions and many old apple and pear orchards, producing 70 tonnes of vegetables and fruit a year.


MASTER OF CEREMONY
The press might well portray him as an impulsive bad boy when it comes to rampaging local government offices, demanding increased subsidies for his equestrian school (as was the case in December 2007). But in the ring Bartabas – passionate, highly respected horse trainer, choreographer and film director of world renown – is the master of his own exquisitely orchestrated ceremony.
‘Bartabas is the founder, artistic director and teacher of the Academy. His philosophy is to develop a great artistic direction in all its forms in each rider, to give that rider sufficient autonomy to train, care and respect the horses,’ explains academy equerry and teaching assistant Laure Guillaume. ‘He is the heart of the academy – nothing is undertaken without his support.’
Each day in the red-brick vaulted stables at Versailles (built in 1693 to house King Louis XIV’s 600 horses), some 15 equerries of Bartabas’ Academy of Equestrian Art (Académie du Spectacle Équestre) are put through their paces. Students train for three years in song, dance, artistic fencing, plastic arts and kyudo (Japanese archery) before becoming an écuyer titulaire (qualified rider) – of which there are currently just five. Indeed, in the chandelier-lit ring during Les Matinales, Laure (b 1970), with the academy since 1991, looks like she’s stepped right out of an equestrian painting. Wearing a pale-green riding jacket with ornately trimmed cuff beneath a dark-green wool cape with fur collar, this poised horsewoman with perfect chignon and enviably high cheekbones cuts a dashing figure.
‘The hardest thing at the academy is to go from a course in riding to singing, then kyudo – it requires an enormous amount of concentration, but you quickly adapt,’ Laure says, adding that riders work six days a week, with weekends being devoted to Bartabas’ signature spellbinding spectacles (shows).
Most of the 40 mounts – Pas de Deux, Treize et Trois, Kimono, Nord and Dali to name a few – are of the same chalk-coloured, blue-eyed Lusitanian breed kept by Louis XIV. The stubbier zebra-styled horses who gallop dramatically towards audiences during the morning training sessions to the sound of baroque music are Argentine Criollos – the hardy traditional mount of the South American cowboy and polo player. Champagne is a short stocky Quarter Horse, Edwin a thoroughbred Arab, and the six in the well-bred cavalry named after solar system planets are Sorayas.
‘Horses are selected according to their race, colour and aptitudes: Lusitanians are excellent in dressage, and Criollos, very handy and fast, are used for artistic fencing,’ explains Laure. ‘Certain horses are also selected sur un coup de cœur (on love at first sight),’ she adds. For riders, the academy must be more than just a school or a job: ‘Riders are recruited on equestrian ability, which must be very high, and also for their desire to make the Academy their life’s philosophy.’
Bartabas was first noticed during in his teens in the late 1970s at Avignon’s fringe theatre festival, Off. He went on to form his own equestrian theatre, aptly called Zingaro (‘gitan’ or ‘gypsy’ in Italian), and established the academy at Versailles in 2003 to both safeguard and dispel his art.

In the same quartier, one of Versailles’ prettiest, is the neoclassical Cathédrale St-Louis ( 01 39 50 40 65; 4 place St-Louis; 8.30am-noon & 2-7.45pm), a harmonious if austere work built between 1743 and 1754, and made a cathedral in 1802. It is known for its 3636-pipe Cliquot organ and is decorated with some interesting paintings and stained-glass panels. To the northeast of the chateau just around the corner from the Versailles–Rive Droite train station, and housed in a lovely 18th-century residence, the Musée Lambinet (Lambinet Museum; 01 39 50 30 32; www.musee-lambinet.fr; 54 blvd de la Reine; adult/child €5.30/2.50, 1st Sun of the month free; 2-6pm Tue, Thu, Sat & Sun, 1-6pm Wed, 2-5pm Fri) displays 18th-century furnishings (ceramics, sculpture, paintings and furniture) and objects connected with the history of Versailles, including the all-important Revolutionary period.

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INFORMATION

 
  • Post Office (av de Paris)
  • Tourist Office ( 01 39 24 88 88; www.versailles-tourisme.com; 2bis av de Paris, Versailles; 9am-7pm Tue-Sun, 10am-6pm Mon Apr-Sep, 9am-6pm Tue-Sat, 11am-5pm Sun & Mon Oct-Mar) Sells the Passeport to Château de Versailles, a detailed visitor’s guide (€8.50) and also an IGN walking map of the area (€9.50).

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EATING

Rue Satory is lined with restaurants serving cuisine from everywhere, Indian, Chinese, Lebanese, Tunisian and Japanese included.

Rollifornia ( 01 39 50 67 61; [email protected]; 9 rue du Satory; lunch menus €10; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm) The dynamic choice of Versailles’ sometimes stuffy dining scene: this young funky Korean quick-eat joint with designer pea-green and white interior cooks up California rolls stuffed with imaginative combos.

Sisters’ Café ( 01 30 21 21 22; 15 rue des Réservoirs; menus €10-15; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat, noon-11pm Sun) Another break with French tradition, this relaxed 1950s-styled space cooks up club sandwiches, chicken fajitas, spinach salads and great weekend brunches. Mustard and ketchup (tomato sauce) are table standards.

Le Phare St-louis ( 01 39 53 40 12; 33 rue du Vieux Versailles; menus €11-16; lunch & dinner to 11pm) This cosy Breton place heaves. Pick from 15 savoury galettes (buckwheat pancakes; €6.70 to €8) and 40-odd different sweet crêpes, including the Vieux Versailles (€5.60) topped with redcurrant jelly, pear and ice cream then set ablaze with Grand Marnier.

À La Ferme ( 01 39 53 10 81; 3 rue du Maréchal Joffre; starters/mains €6/14, menus €17.50 & €21.80; lunch & dinner to 11pm Wed-Sun) Cow-hind seats and rustic garlands strung from old wood beams add a country air to ‘At the Farm’, temple to grilled meats and cuisine from southwest France.

For picnic supplies:

 
  • Marché & Halles Notre Dame (place du Marché Notre Dame; inside 7am-1pm & 3.30-7pm Tue-Sat, outside 7.30am-2pm Tue, Fri & Sun) Indoor and outdoor food market.
  • Monoprix (9 rue Georges Clemenceau)

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SLEEPING

Hôtel De France ( 01 30 83 92 23; www.hotelfrance-versailles.com; 5 rue Colbert; s/d/tr €137/141/174) If you’re going to stay in this regal town, you may as well go the whole hog and plump for a canopied bed and floral bedspread in a three-star 18th-century townhouse. It’s old, old-fashioned and across from the chateau.

Royal Hôtel ( 01 39 50 67 31; www.royalhotelversailles.com; 23 rue Royale; d €58-69, tr/q €92/110) In the delightful St-Louis neighbourhood, this 35-room hotel displays character and a fondness for patterned wallpaper. The smallish rooms mix bulk furnishings with old-fashioned touches and there are self-catering studios for keen cooks.

Hôtel d’Angleterre ( 01 39 51 43 50; www.hotel-angleterre-versailles.com; 2bis rue de Fontenay; d €50-88, ste €120) On a quiet street away from the chateau mayhem sits this good-value 18-room hotel – look for the burnt-copper canopy above the entrance. The cheapest rooms only have a shower; rooms 15 and 23 are family friendly.

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FONTAINEBLEAU

The smart town of Fontainebleau (population 17,811) grew up around its elegant Renaissance chateau, one of France’s largest royal residences, around which the beautiful Forêt de Fontainebleau fans out. The chateau is less crowded and pressured than Versailles and its forest – rich in walking, cycling, rock climbing, horse-riding opportunities and game – is as big a playground as it was in the 16th century.

The town’s lifeblood is international graduate business school Insead (www.insead.edu), which brings in some 2000 students a year and seals Fontainebleau’s reputation as a nice respectable middle-class place to be – for the French and expats alike. The town has an Anglican church, its own Wednesday-morning English school and a dynamic pick of swish cafés, bars and cultural happenings. No wonder so many work in Paris but choose to live in this safe, healthy living space oozing, as many a local will tell you, ‘a certain Swiss ambience’.

Château de Fontainebleau ( 01 60 71 50 70; www.musee-chateau-fontainebleau.fr, in French; place Général de Gaulle; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €8/6/free, 1st Sun of the month free for all; 9.30am-6pm Wed-Mon Jun-Sep, 9.30am-5pm Wed-Mon Oct-May), with its 1900 rooms, is one of France’s most beautifully decorated and furnished chateaux. Walls and ceilings are richly coated with wood panelling, gilded carvings, frescoes, tapestries and paintings. The parquet floors are of the finest woods, the fireplaces are decorated with exceptional carvings, and many of the pieces of furniture are originals dating back to the Renaissance. An informative 1½-hour audioguide leads visitors around the main areas of the palace (whose list of former tenants or visitors is like a who’s who of French royalty) and two guided tours (adult/18-25 years €12.50/11; 1¼ hours) take visitors to the Petits Appartements and Musée Napoléon 1er (10.30am and 3.30pm daily) and the Second-Empire salon and Musée Chinois de l’Imperatice Eugénie (11.30am and 2.30pm daily). Sign up for both tours (€19/16) and you get into the main part of the chateau for free. You can access the chateau gardens & courtyards ( 9am-7pm May-Sep, 9am-6pm Mar, Apr & Oct, 9am-5pm Nov-Feb) for free.

The first chateau on this site was built in the early 12th century and enlarged by Louis IX a century later. Only a single medieval tower survived the energetic Renaissance-style reconstruction undertaken by François I (r 1515–47), whose superb artisans, many of them brought over from Italy, blended Italian and French styles to create what is known as the First School of Fontainebleau. The Mona Lisa once hung here amid other fine artworks of the royal collection.

During the latter half of the 16th century, the chateau was further enlarged by Henri II (r 1547–59), Catherine de Médicis and Henri IV (r 1589–1610), whose Flemish and French artists created the Second School of Fontainebleau. Even Louis XIV got in on the act: it was he who hired Le Nôtre to redesign the gardens.

Fontainebleau, which was not damaged during the Revolution (though its furniture was stolen or destroyed), was beloved and much restored by Napoleon Bonaparte. Napoleon III was another frequent visitor. During WWII the chateau was turned into a German headquarters. After it was liberated by US General George Patton in 1944, part of the complex served as Allied and then NATO headquarters from 1945 to 1965.


TRANSPORT: FONTAINBLEAU
 
  • Distance from Paris 67km
  • Direction Southeast
  • Travel time 35 to 60 minutes by SNCF train
  • Car Take route A6 from Porte d’Orléans, direction Lyon, exit ‘Fontainebleau.
  • Bus Line A links the train station with the chateau (€1.50), 2km southwest, every 10 minutes from 5.30am to 9.30pm; get off the train and cross under the tracks through ‘Sortie Place de la Gare’ to reach the bus. The last train back to Paris leaves Fontainebleau around 9.45pm (10pm Saturday, 10.30pm Sunday).
  • SNCF train Up to 30 daily SNCF commuter trains link Paris’ Gare de Lyon with Fontainebleau-Avon station (€7.60). A package (adult/10-17yr/4-9yr €23/16.70/8.10) includes return transport from Paris, bus transfers and chateau admission.

Visits take in the state apartments (Grands Appartements), which embrace several outstanding rooms. Louis XV wed Marie Leczinska in 1725 and the future Napoleon III was christened in 1810 in the spectacular Chapelle de la Trinité (Trinity Chapel), with ornamentation dating from the first half of the 17th century. The Galerie François 1er (François I Gallery), a jewel of Renaissance architecture, was decorated from 1533 to 1540 by Il Rosso, a Florentine follower of Michelangelo. In the wood panelling, François I’s monogram appears repeatedly, along with his emblem, a dragonlike salamander.

The Salle de Bal (Ballroom), a 30m-long room dating from the mid-16th century that was also used for receptions and banquets, is renowned for its mythological frescoes, marquetry floor and Italian-inspired coffered ceiling. The large windows afford views of the Cour Ovale (Oval Courtyard) and the gardens. The gilded bed in the 17th- and 18th-century Chambre de l’Impératrice (Empress’ Bedroom) was never used by Marie-Antoinette, for whom it was built in 1787. The gilding in the Salle du Trône (Throne Room), the royal bedroom before the Napoleonic period, is in three shades: gold, green and yellow.


PICNIC IN THE GROUNDS
The chateau begs to be greedily ogled at long and hard. Shop for fresh fruit at the outdoor food market, Marché République (rue des Pins; 8am-1pm Tue, Fri & Sat); create your own cheeseboard at Odile and Gilles Goursat’s Fromagerie Barthelemy ( 01 64 22 21 64; 92 rue Grande; 7.30am-12.30pm & 3.30-7.30pm Mon, Fri & Sat, 8.30am-12.30pm & 3.30-7.30pm Wed, 8.30am-12.30pm & 4-7.30pm Thu, 8am-1pm Sun), one of Île de France’s finest cheese shops; and buy something to drink from supermarket Monoprix (58 rue Grande; 8.45am-7.45pm Mon-Sat, 9am-1pm Sun). Then head to the lawns for a picnic in paradise. Those with kids who can’t sit still might prefer the playground-equipped garden of the Musée Napoléonien d’Art et d’Histoire Militaire (above).

The Petits Appartements (Small Apartments) were the private apartments of the emperor and empress and contain uniforms, hats, coats, ornamental swords and knick-knacks that belonged to Napoleon and his relatives. True buffs can get a second dose of him at Fontainebleau’s Musée Napoléonien d’art et d’histoire Militaire (Napoleonic Museum of Art & Military History; 01 60 74 64 89; 88 rue St-Honoré; adult/under 12yr €4/free; museum 2-5.30pm Tue-Sat, garden 10am-6pm or 7pm Tue-Sat), six rooms of military uniforms and weapons in the 19th-century Villa Lavaurs in town.

In 1863 a set of four drawing rooms were created for the Empress Eugénie, Napoleon III’s wife, whose collection of oriental art forms the Musée Chinois de l’Imperatice Eugénie, accessible only by guided tours.

As successive monarchs added their own wings to the chateau, five irregularly shaped courtyards were created. The oldest and most interesting is the Cour Ovale, no longer oval but U-shaped due to Henri IV’s construction work. It incorporates the keep, the sole remnant of the medieval chateau. The largest courtyard is the Cour du Cheval Blanc (Courtyard of the White Horse), from where you enter the chateau. Napoleon, about to be exiled to Elba in 1814, bid farewell to his guards from the magnificent 17th-century double-horseshoe staircase here. For that reason the courtyard is also called the Cour des Adieux (Farewell Courtyard).

On the northern side of the chateau is the Jardin de Diane, a formal garden created by Catherine de Médicis. Le Nôtre’s formal, 17th-century Jardin Français (French Garden), also known as the Grand Parterre, is east of the Cour de la Fontaine (Fountain Courtyard) and the Étang des Carpes (Carp Pond). The informal Jardin Anglais (English Garden), laid out in 1812, is west of the pond. The Grand Canal was excavated in 1609 and predates the canals at Versailles by over half a century.


THE FOREST OF FONTAINEBLEAU
The Forêt de Fontainebleau, a 20,000-hectare wood surrounding the town, is among the region’s loveliest. National walking trails GR1 and GR11 are excellent for jogging, walking, cycling and horse riding, and for climbers the forest is a veritable paradise. Rock climbing enthusiasts have long come to its sandstone ridges, rich in cliffs and overhangs, to hone their skills before setting off for the Alps. There are different grades marked by colours, with white representing easy climbs (suitable for children) and black representing climbs up and over death-defying boulders. The website http://bleau.info has stacks of information on climbing in Fontainebleau.
To give it a go, contact Top Loisirs ( 01 60 74 08 50; www.toploisirs.fr in French; 16 rue du Sylvain Collinet) about equipment hire and instruction. Two gorges worth visiting are the Gorges d’Apremont, 7km northwest near Barbizon, and the Gorges de Franchard, a few kilometres south of Gorges d’Apremont. The tourist office sells Fontainebleau Climbs (€25), translated into English.
The area is covered by IGN’s 1:25,000 scale Forêt de Fontainebleau map (No 2417OT; €9.70). The tourist office sells the Guide des Sentiers de Promenades dans le Massif Forestier de Fontainebleau (€12), whose maps and French text cover 19 forest walks, and Librairie Michel (below) sells À Pied en Famille – Autour de Fontainebleau (FFRP), which maps 18 family walks, 2.5km to 5km long.

Should you be around longer than a day, you might catch one of the monthly guided visits the tourist office organises of an eclectic trio of lesser-known sights: Fontainbleau’s Musée National des Prisons (National Museum of Prisons; 01 60 74 99 99; adult/child €8.60/6.50; guided tour 3pm last Fri of month), a gruesome portrait of French prisons from the 17th century to the present in a magnificent 19th-century prison with 30 cells; its Musée Motocycliste de la Gendarmerie (Police Motorcycle Museum; 01 60 74 99 99; Camp Guymener; adult/child €8.60/6.50; guided tour quarterly); and the Centre Sportif d’Equitation Militaire (Sporting & Military Horseriding Centre; ( 01 60 74 99 99; allée Maintenon; adult/child €8.60/6.50; guided tour 10.30am last Wed of month), where mounted French army officers and 50 military horses are trained each year.

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INFORMATION

 
  • À La Petite Reine ( 01 60 74 57 57; 32 rue des Sablons; hire per half-/full day €13/16; 9am-7.30pm Tue-Sat) Bike hire for adults and kids; a helmet or a child’s seat each costs €3.
  • Arobaze Café ( 01 60 72 24 52; www.arobazecafe.com, in French; 5 rue de Ferrare; per hr €3; 10am-10pm Mon-Sat, 2-8pm Sun) Internet café with 30 machines.
  • Forêt de Fontainebleau Tourist Office (Antenne Forestière; 01 60 74 99 99; Carrefour du Coq, La Faisanderie; 9am-12.30pm & 1.30-6.30pm Fri, Sat & Sun May-Oct) Seasonal tourist office in the forest to assist walkers, cyclists and other forest ramblers.
  • Librairie Michel ( 01 64 22 27 21; 15 rue de la Paroisse; 9.30am-1pm & 2.30-7pm Mon-Sat, 10.30am-1pm Sun) Maps, travel and walking guides, including ones for the forest (above).
  • Post Office (2 rue de la Chancellerie)
  • Reel Books ( 1 64 22 85 85; 9 rue de Ferrare; 11am-7pm Tue-Sat) English bookshop with new and secondhand titles, and a great noticeboard crammed with ads aimed at the large local Anglophone community.
  • Tourist Office ( 01 60 74 99 99; www.fontainebleau-tourisme.com; 4 rue Royale; 10am-6pm Mon-Sat, 10am-1pm & 2-5.30pm Sun May-Oct, 10am-1pm Sun Nov-Apr) A converted petrol station west of the chateau. It sells loads of walking guides and maps; offers 30-minute self-paced audioguide tours (€4.60, 30 minutes) of the chateau interior, its parks and gardens or of the Forêt de Fontainebleau (2km); and takes prepaid bookings for monthly visits of the National Prison Museum, Police Motocycle Museum and Sporting and Military Horseriding Centre. It also has a limited number of bikes for hire (€5/15/19 per hour/half-day/day); reserve in advance.

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EATING

There are lovely café terraces on which to soak up the sun across from the chateau on place Napoléon Bonaparte, behind the old-fashioned merry-go-round, and there are a couple of drinking options on rue de la Corne. Rue de Montebello tours the world with Indian, Lebanese and other international cuisine.

La Rose de l’Orient ( 06 08 88 36 49; 20 rue de Ferrare; mezzes per piece €1, sandwiches €4, grills €7.50; 10.30am-8pm Tue-Sat) This Lebanese eatery is the spot for a fast cheap lunch courtesy of two sisters, one of whom cooked for diplomats in Paris before launching into business alone. Five plastic tables inside or take away a mezzes-and-pita-bread picnic.

Au Vague à l’Âme ( 01 60 72 10 32; 39 rue de France; lunch menus €11.50 & €16, dinner menus €25; lunch Tue-Sun, dinner to 1am Tue-Sat) This cheerful café-restaurant with a vague nautical theme is the place for Breton specialities, including mussels, fresh oysters and an oyster terrine to die for.

Le Ferrare ( 01 60 72 37 04; 23 rue de France; starters €5-7.50, mains €13-17; 10am-1am Mon-Sat) If you want to know where locals lunch, pile into this quintessential brasserie with typical fare and a blackboard full of Auvergne specialities. Tripe anyone?

Le Franklin Roosevelt ( 01 64 22 28 73; 20 rue Grande; starters €5-8, mains €13-19; 10am-1am Mon-Sat) If the Fontainebleau regular is not in Le Ferrare, it’s a dead cert you’ll find him here. Another great brasserie, with wooden panelling, red banquet seating and oodles of atmosphere, the Franklin keeps weekday punters happy with a good-value €10 plat du jour (daily special).

La Table des Maréchaux ( 01 60 39 55 50; 9 rue Grande; starters €15-20, mains €23-30, menu lunch Mon-Fri €32, dinner €40; lunch & dinner to 11pm) Tucked in fancy Hôtel Napoléon, this romantic restaurant with its flowery interior-courtyard garden is a must in summer. Cuisine is inventive: traditional French inspired by foreign flavours and exotic spices.

Crêperie Ty Koz ( 01 64 22 00 55; 18 rue de la Cloche; small/large crêpes & galettes €3-7/5.80-10.20, 1L pichet cider €9.40; lunch & dinner to 10pm or 10.30pm Tue-Sun) Tucked in an attractive courtyard, this Breton hidey-hole cooks up sweet crêpes and savoury galettes whipped up with traditional black wheat. Order a regular simple or double-thickness pourleth and wash it down with some traditional Val de Rance cider.

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SLEEPING

La Guérinière ( 01 60 71 97 57; [email protected]; 10-12 rue de Montebello; d incl breakfast €60, extra bed €20; ) This charming B&B provides some of the best-value accommodation in town. Owner Monsieur Ballestier speaks English and has five rooms, each named after a different flower and dressed in white linens and period wooden furniture. Coquelicot (meaning ‘poppy’), with its white walls and exposed beams, is particularly charming.

Hôtel de l’Aigle Noir ( 01 60 74 60 00; www.hotelaiglenoir.fr; 27 place Napoléon Bonaparte; s/d €160/170; ) Rich elegance and smart service with a gorgeous pool, grand Empire-style furnishings, and plush suites are the trademarks of this sparkling-white 17th-century mansion, across from the chateau.

Hôtel de Londres ( 01 64 22 20 21; www.hoteldelondres.com; 1 place du Général de Gaulle; d €90-120) Classy, cosy and beautifully kept, the London is charmingly furnished in warm reds and royal blues and has been in the same family for 70-odd years. The priciest rooms have balconies with dreamy chateau view.

Le Demeure du Parc ( 01 64 22 24 24; www.hotelfontainebleau.fr; 6 rue Avon; d €90-120; ) Adjacent to the chateau park, this hotel languishes in a 17th-century residence where Jean Racine once laid his head. The swimming pool overlooked by its excellent restaurant, Le Village Café, is magical.

Hôtel Richelieu ( 01 64 22 26 46; [email protected]; 4 rue Richelieu; d €48-65) The rooms without windows are best avoided at this clean and welcoming but bland, 18-room hotel. Bacchus swigs wine next door and has a sterling reputation.

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VAUX-LE-VICOMTE

Privately owned Château de Vaux-le-Vicomte ( 01 64 14 41 90; www.vaux-le-vicomte.com; adult/child 6-16yr €12.50/9.90, family ticket €39, candlelight visit €15.50/13.70; 10am-1pm & 2-6pm Mon-Fri & 10am-6pm Sat & Sun mid-Mar–early Nov, candlelight visits 8pm-midnight Fri Jul & Aug, 8pm-midnight Sat May–mid-Oct) and its magnificent French-styled gardens, 20km north of Fontainebleau, were designed and built as a precursor to Versailles by Le Brun, Le Vau and Le Nôtre between 1656 and 1661.

Unfortunately, Vaux-le-Vicomte’s beauty turned out to be the undoing of its owner, Louis XIV’s minister of finance Nicolas Fouquet: Louis, seething with jealousy that he had been upstaged at the chateau’s official opening, had Fouquet thrown into prison, where he died in 1680.

Today visitors swoon over the beautifully furnished chateau interior, including its fabulous dome. In the vaulted cellars an exhibition looks at Le Nôtre’s landscaping of the formal gardens, complete with elaborate fountain displays ( 3-6pm 2nd & last Sat of month Apr-Oct) and lit by thousands of candles after dark. The collection of 18th- and 19th-century carriages in the chateau stables, included in the chateau visit, forms the Musée des Équipages (Carriage Museum). While the chateau interior shuts for lunch weekdays, the French-styled gardens remain open and can be strolled. Weekends and school holidays, rent prince, princess or musketeer costumes for the kids to prance around in. Fun seasonal events include Easter-egg hunts.


TRANSPORT: VAUX-LE-VICOMTE
 
  • Distance from Paris 60km
  • Direction Southeast
  • Travel time An hour by car or by RER and taxi.
  • Car N6 from Paris and then A5a (direction Melun and exit ‘Voisenon’); from Fontainebleau N6 and N36.
  • RER train Line D2 from Paris (€7) to Melun, 6km southwest, then taxi (€15 to €20) or chateaubus shuttle three to five times daily Saturday and Sunday April to October (single/return €3.50/7).

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CHANTILLY

Don’t come Tuesday, when Chantilly’s beautiful chateau bathed in parkland and its grandiose stables fit for a king are closed.

Enviably situated 48km north of Paris, this elegant old town (population 11,200) is small, select and spoilt. Its chateau sits in a sea of parkland, gardens, lakes and forest packed with walking opportunities; its race track is one of those prestigious hat-and-frock addresses in Europe; and that deliciously sweetened thick crème called Chantilly was created here. Given its large and lively English community (the town has its own Anglican church, vicar, tearoom, cricket club etc), it’s thoroughly apt that Chantilly is twinned with the horse-racing town of Epsom in Surrey.

Château de Chantilly ( 03 44 27 31 80; www.chateaudechantilly.com; adult/under 18yr €9/free; chateau 10am-6pm Wed-Mon Mar-Oct, 10.30am-5pm Wed-Mon Nov-Mar, park 10am-6pm Wed-Mon), left in a shambles after the Revolution, is of interest mainly because of its beautiful gardens and collection of superb paintings. It consists of two attached buildings, entered through the same vestibule. Admission includes unlimited strolling around the chateau’s vast gardens and a visit of the chateau interior, richly adorned with paintings (look out for the Raphaël and Delacroix), 16th-century stained glass, porcelain, lace and tapestries. Pricier combination tickets, available April to November, include a boat or mini-train ride adult/under 18 years (€14/3) or both (€19/6); a ticket covering just park and ride costs adult/under 18 years €10/3.

The Petit Château was built around 1560 for Anne de Montmorency (1493–1567), who served six French kings as connétable (high constable), diplomat and soldier and died while fighting Protestants during the Counter-Reformation. The highlight of a visit is the Cabinet des Livres in the Appartements des Princes (Princes’ Suites), a repository of 700 manuscripts and over 30,000 volumes, including a Gutenberg Bible and a facsimile of the Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry, an illuminated manuscript dating from the 15th century that illustrates the calendar year for both the peasantry and the nobility. The chapel, to the left as you walk into the vestibule, has woodwork and stained-glass windows dating from the mid-16th century and was assembled by the duke of Aumale in 1882.

The attached Renaissance-style Grand Château, completely demolished during the Revolution, was rebuilt by the duke of Aumale, son of King Louis-Philippe, from 1875 to 1885. It forms the Musée Condé, a series of unremarkable 19th-century rooms adorned with paintings and sculptures haphazardly arranged according to the whims of the duke – he donated the chateau to the Institut de France on the condition the exhibits were not reorganised and would be open to the public. The most remarkable works, hidden in the Sanctuaire, include paintings by Raphael, Filippino Lippi and Jean Fouquet.

The chateau’s stunning but long-neglected gardens were once among France’s most spectacular. The formal Jardin Français (French Garden), whose flowerbeds, lakes and Grand Canal were laid out by Le Nôtre in the mid-17th century, is northeast of the main building. To the west, the ‘wilder’ Jardin Anglais (English Garden) was begun in 1817. East of the Jardin Français is the rustic Jardin Anglo-Chinois (Anglo-Chinese Garden), created in the 1770s. Its foliage and silted-up waterways surround the Hameau, a mock village dating from 1774 whose mill and half-timbered buildings inspired the Hameau de la Reine at Versailles.

The chateau’s Grandes Écuries (Grand Stables), built between 1719 and 1740 to house 240 horses and over 400 hounds, are next to Chantilly’s famous Hippodrome (racecourse), inaugurated in 1834. Today the stables house the Musée Vivant du Cheval ( 03 44 27 31 80; www.museevivantducheval.fr; Grandes Écuries, rue du Connétable; adult/4-17yr €9/7; 10.30am-6.30pm Mon & Wed-Fri, 10.30am-7pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct, 2-6pm Mon & Wed-Fri, 10.30am-6.30pm Sat & Sun Nov-Mar), whose 30 pampered and spoiled equines live in luxurious wooden stalls built by Louis-Henri de Bourbon, the seventh Prince de Condé, who was convinced he would be reincarnated as a horse (hence the extraordinary grandeur!). Displays cover everything from riding equipment to horse toys to portraits, drawings and sculptures of famous nags. The last tickets for the museum are sold one hour before it closes. Every visitor, big and small, will be mesmerised by the 30-minute Présentation Équestre Pédagogique (Introduction to Dressage) – a Chantilly must-do included in the admission price. Presentation times are: 11.30am, 3.30pm and 5.15pm Wednesday to Monday from April to October; 11.30am Monday and Wednesday to Friday, and 11.30am, 3.30pm and 5.15pm Saturday and Sunday from November to March. Even more magical and highly sought-after are the handful of equestrian shows performed in the stables each year; tickets are like gold dust and can be reserved online.

Less in demand but equally entertaining are the plays and theatrical pieces staged during July and August in the open-air Theatre de la Faisanderie (www.theatredelafaisanderie.com) of the Potager des Princes ( 03 44 57 39 66; www.potagerdesprinces.com; 17 rue de la Faisanderie; adult/under 18yr €7.50/4; 2-7pm Wed-Mon Mar-Nov). Arrive before 5.30pm, when the last tickets of the day are sold. Hidden behind an old stone wall, these lovely little-known gardens embrace a watery and romantic Jardin Fantastique crossed with bridges and grottoes; an exotic Jardin Japonais, a flower-filled Verger (vegetable garden), several Italianate waterfalls, a 19th-century rose garden and puppet theatre (shows Wednesday, Saturday and Sunday). The rabbit obstacle-course races held in the Lapinodrome – a rabbit village with church, town hall etc – will raise a smile, be it one of amusement or sheer disbelief.


TRANSPORT: CHANTILLY
 
  • Distance from Paris 48km
  • Direction North
  • Travel time 25 minutes by train
  • Car By motorway, Autoroute du Nord (A1/E19), exit No 7 ‘Survilliers-Chantilly’; by national road, N1 then N16 from Porte de la Chapelle/St-Dénis.
  • SNCF train Paris’ Gare du Nord is linked to Chantilly (€7) by SNCF trains, departing almost hourly between 6.30am and 10.30pm.

South of the chateau is the 6300-hectare Forêt de Chantilly (Chantilly Forest), once a royal hunting estate and now crisscrossed by a variety of walking and riding trails. In some areas, straight paths laid out centuries ago meet at multi-angled carrefours (crossroads). Long-distance trails that pass through the Forêt de Chantilly include the GR11, which links the chateau with Senlis 10km northeast, an attractive medieval town of winding cobblestone streets, Gallo-Roman ramparts and towers and a lovely cathedral; the GR1, which goes from Luzarches (famed for its cathedral, parts of which date from the 12th century) to Ermenonville; and the GR12, which goes northeastward from four lakes known as the Étangs de Commelles, to the Forêt d’Halatte.

The tourist office sells IGN’s indispensable walking map Forêts de Chantilly, d’Halatte and d’Ermenonville (No 2412OT; 1:25,000; €9.50) and the ONF (Office National des Forêts; National Forests Office) has information on walks and mountain-bike trails in the forest.


CHÂTEAU DE WHIPPED CREAM
Like every other self-respecting French chateau three centuries ago, the palace at Chantilly had its own hameau (hamlet), complete with laitier (dairy) where the lady of the household and her guests could play milkmaids. But the cows at Chantilly’s dairy took their job rather more seriously than their fellow bovine actors at other faux dairies, and news of the crème Chantilly (sweetened whipped cream) served at the hamlet’s teas became the talk of aristocratic 18th-century Europe. The future Habsburg Emperor Joseph II clandestinely visited this ‘temple de marbre’ (marble temple), as he called it, to taste the stuff in 1777, and when the Baroness of Oberkirch tasted the goods she cried: ‘Never have I eaten such good cream, so appetising, so well prepared.’ Sample it in any café or restaurant in town.

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INFORMATION & ORIENTATION

The chateau is just over 2km northeast of the train station; cut along av de la Plaine des Aigles through a section of the Forêt de Chantilly or take the longer route through town along Chantilly’s principal thoroughfare, av du Maréchal Joffre.

 
  • ONF (Office National des Forêts; 03 44 57 03 88; www.onf.fr, in French; 1 av de Sylvie) The National Forests Office is almost always shut, given its guardian practically lives in the forest; call ahead to find out about its organised forest walks.
  • Post Office (26 av du Maréchal Joffre)
  • Tourist Office ( 03 44 67 37 37; www.chantilly-tourisme.com; 60 av du Maréchal Joffre; 9.30am-12.30pm & 1.30-5.30pm Mon-Sat, 10am-1.30pm Sun May-Sep, 9.30am-12.30pm & 1.30-5.30pm Mon-Sat Oct-Apr) Ample information on Chantilly, including accommodation lists and a trio of promenades leaflets outlining walks through town, along Chantilly’s two canals and around the racecourse.

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EATING

Aux GoÛters Champêtres ( 03 44 57 46 21; Château de Chantilly; lunch menus €19.50, €32 & €41.50; 11am-7pm Wed-Mon Apr-Nov) A wonderful spot for a summery lunch in the sun, this fine restaurant sits in the windmill of the park’s hameau (hamlet). Its chief claim to fame: its crème Chantilly whipped up for the past 20 years by prized local chef Jean-Michel Duda.

Le Goutillon ( 03 44 58 01 00; 61 rue du Connétable; starters €8-10, mains €15-25; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat) With its red-and-white checked tablecloths, simple wooden tables and classic bistro fare, Le Goutillon is a cosy French affair much loved by local expats. It’s as much wine bar as munch hole.

Auberge Le Vertugadin ( 03 44 57 03 19; www.restaurantlevertugadin.fr; 44 rue du Connétable; starters €14-38, mains €20-32, menus €28; lunch & dinner to 11pm Mon-Sat, lunch Sun) Old-style and elegant, this ode to regional cuisine – think meat, game and terrines accompanied by sweet onion chutney – fills a white-shuttered townhouse. A warming fire roars in the hearth in winter, and summer welcomes diners to its walled garden.

Le Boudoir ( 03 44 55 44 49; 100 rue du Connétable; lunch menus €7.50-16; 11am-6pm Mon, 10am-7pm Tue-Sat, 11am-7pm Sun) This relaxed salon de thé (tearoom) with sofas to lounge on and magazines to read is the place to sample crème Chantilly in all its decadence: go for one of several hot chocolate types topped with the lashings of the stuff, a chococcino (a cream-topped mix of coffee and chocolate) or chocolate fondue served just for two. Le Boudoir also serves perfect light lunches – salads, savoury tarts, gourmet savoury platters and wok-cooked dishes.

L’Atmosphère ( 03 44 60 58 75; 5 rue de Paris; starters €5-8, mains €10-14, menus €12.20, €16 & €24; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm Mon-Sat) A refreshingly youthful spirit pervades this contemporary eating space, the restaurant of Café Noir around the corner on place Omer Vallon. Interior décor is funky and Mediterranean dining is beneath a glass roof or in a cobbled courtyard.

La Capitainerie ( 03 44 57 15 89; www.restaurantfp-chantilly.com; Château de Chantilly; lunch menus €15.50-29.50; lunch Wed-Mon) Enviably nestled beneath the vaulted stone ceiling of the chateau kitchens, La Capitainerie captures history’s grandeur and romance. Fare is traditional and includes crème Chantilly at every opportunity. Its weekend formule buffet à volonté (help-yourself-to-as-much-as-you want buffet deal; €19.50) is good value. Afternoon tea from 3pm.

For picnic supplies:

 
  • Atac (5 place Omer Vallon; 9am-6pm)
  • La Cave de Chantilly (69 av du Maréchal Joffre)
  • Weekly food market (place Omer Vallon; 8.30am-12.30pm Wed & Sat)

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SLEEPING

The tourist office has a list of uninspired chain hotels in town.

À la Cantilienne ( 03 44 58 05 76; www.chantilly-chambres-dhotes.fr, in French; 15 rue des Cascades; d €95-125, extra bed €25; ) A five-minute stroll from the high wall of the princes’ kitchen garden sits this delightful B&B, the family home of Monsieur and Madame Vergne-Hyttenhove aplomb a grassy hillock. Its two spacious rooms both peep out on the pretty garden that languishes out back.

La Ferme de la Canardière ( 03 44 62 00 96, 06 20 96 43 89; www.fermecanardiere.com, in French; 20 rue du Viaduc; s/d €130/150; ) Delicately embroidered cushions, country-style furnishings and a colour scheme of soft creams and beiges cast a romantic air over the country home of Sabine and Thierry – everything one would hope for in a French B&B. In summer allow plenty of time for breakfast on the terrace before plunging in for a quick dip.

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CHARTRES

Step off the train in Chartres (population 42,000) and the two very different spires – one Gothic, the other Romanesque – of its magnificent 13th-century cathedral instantly beckon. Rising from rich farmland to dominate this charming medieval town, Chartres’ Cathédrale Notre Dame ( 02 37 21 22 07; www.diocese-chartres.com; place de la Cathédrale; 8.30am-7.30pm, Sunday mass 9.15am, 11am & 6pm) is a must-see. Its brilliant-blue stained glass and collection of relics, including the Sainte Voile (holy veil) said to have been worn by the Virgin Mary when she gave birth to Jesus, have lured pilgrims since the Middle Ages. Up until 4pm daily, the shop below the North Tower inside the cathedral rents informative, 25-/45-/70-minute English-language audioguide headsets costing €3.20/4.20/6.20 – you’ll need to leave your passport or other ID as a deposit. Guided tours in French (adult/10 to 18 years €6.20/4.20) and English also depart from the shop.

One of the crowning architectural achievements of Western civilisation, this 130m-long cathedral was built in the Gothic style during the early 13th century to replace a Romanesque cathedral devastated by fire in 1194. Construction took only 30 years, resulting in a high degree of architectural unity. It is France’s best-preserved medieval cathedral, having been spared postmedieval modifications, the ravages of war and the Reign of Terror.

Its three entrances all have superbly ornamented triple portals, but the western Portail Royal is the only one that predates the fire. Carved between 1145 and 1155, its superb statuary, whose features are elongated in the Romanesque style, represents the glory of Christ in the centre, and the Nativity and Ascension to the right and left, respectively. The structure’s other main Romanesque feature is the 105m-high Clocher Vieux (Old Bell Tower; South Tower), begun in the 1140s. It is the tallest Romanesque steeple still standing.

A visit to the 112m-high Clocher Neuf (New Bell Tower; Cathédrale Notre Dame, North Tower; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €6.50/4.50/free, admission free on 1st Sun of some months; 9.30am-noon & 2-5.30pm Sun May-Aug, 9.30am-noon & 2-4.30pm Sun Sep-Apr) is worth the ticket price and steep climb up the spiral stairway. Access is just behind the cathedral bookshop. A 70m-high platform on the flamboyant Gothic spire, built from 1507 to 1513 by Jehan de Beauce after an earlier wooden spire burned down, affords superb views of the three-tiered flying buttresses and the 19th-century copper roof, turned green by verdigris.

Extraordinary are the cathedral’s 172 stained-glass windows, mostly 13th-century originals, covering 2.6 sq km and forming one of Europe’s most important medieval stained-glass collections. The three most important, dating to 1150, cast a magical light over the west entrance, below the rose window. Survivors of the 1194 fire, they are renowned for the depth and intensity of their blue tones, famously called ‘Chartres blue’. To see stained glass close up, nip into the Centre International du Vitrail (International Stained-Glass Centre; 02 37 21 65 72; www.centre-vitrail.org; 5 rue du Cardinal Pie; adult/16-18yr/under 15yr €4/3/free; 9.30am-12.30pm & 1.30-6pm Mon-Fri, 10am-12.30pm & 2.30-6pm Sat & Sun), in a half-timbered former granary.

The cathedral’s 110m-long crypt (Cathédrale Notre Dame; guided tour adult/7-18yr €2.70/2.10; tours 11am Mon-Sat & 2.15pm, 3.30pm, 4.30pm & 5.15pm daily late Jun–late Sep, 11am Mon-Sat & 2.15pm, 3.30pm & 4.30pm daily Apr–late Jun & late Sep–Oct, 11am Mon-Sat & 4.15pm Nov-Mar), a tombless Romanesque structure built in 1024 around a 9th-century predecessor, is the largest crypt in France. Guided tours in French (with written English translation) lasting 30 minutes are available year-round. Summertime guided tours of the crypt (in French with written English translation) depart from La Crypte ( 02 37 21 56 33; 18 Cloître Notre Dame, Chartres; Apr-Oct), the cathedral-run souvenir shop. From November to March, tours depart from the shop inside the cathedral.


TRANSPORT: CHARTRES
 
  • Distance from Paris 88km
  • Direction Southwest
  • Travel time 55 to 70 minutes by train
  • Car A6 from Paris’ Porte d’Orléans (direction Bordeaux-Nantes), then A10 and A11 (direction Nantes), exit ‘Chartres’.
  • SNCF train More than 30 SNCF trains a day (20 on Sunday) link Paris’ Gare Montparnasse (€12.90) with Chartres, all of which pass through Versailles-Chantiers (€10.90, 45 to 60 minutes). The last train back to Paris leaves Chartres a bit after 9pm weekdays, just before 9pm on Saturday and sometime after 10pm on Sunday.

The most venerated object in the cathedral is the Sainte Voile (Holy Veil) relic, originally part of the imperial treasury of Constantinople but offered to Charlemagne by the Empress Irene when the Holy Roman Emperor proposed marriage to her in 802. It has been in Chartres since 876, when Charles the Bald presented it to the town. Indeed, the cathedral was built because the veil survived the 1194 fire. It is contained in a cathedral-shaped reliquary and is currently displayed in a small side chapel off the eastern aisle.

Chartres’ Musée des Beaux-Arts (Fine Arts Museum; 02 37 90 45 80; 29 Cloître Notre Dame, Chartres; adult/12-18yr/under 12yr €4.20/2.80/free; 10am-noon & 2-6pm Mon & Wed-Sat, 2-6pm Sun May-Oct, 10am-noon & 2-5pm Mon & Wed-Sat, 2-5pm Sun Nov-Apr), accessed via the gate next to the cathedral’s north portal, is in the former Palais Épiscopal (Bishop’s Palace), built in the 17th and 18th centuries. Its collections include 16th-century enamels of the Apostles made for François I, paintings from the 16th to 19th centuries and polychromatic wooden sculptures from the Middle Ages.

Chartres’ carefully preserved old town is northeast and east of the cathedral along the narrow western channel of the River Eure, spanned by a number of footbridges. From rue Cardinal Pie, the stairways called Tertre St-Nicolas and rue Chantault, the latter lined with medieval houses, lead down to the empty shell of the 12th-century Collégiale St-André, a Romanesque collegiate church that closed in 1791 and was damaged in the early 19th century and again during WWII.

Along the river’s eastern bank, rue de la Tannerie and its extension rue de la Foulerie are lined with flower gardens, millraces and the restored remnants of riverside trades: wash houses, tanneries and the like. Rue aux Juifs (Street of the Jews) on the western bank has been extensively renovated. Half a block down the hill there’s a riverside promenade. Up the hill, rue des Écuyers has many structures dating from around the 16th century, including a half-timbered, prow-shaped house at No 26 with its upper section supported by beams. At No 35 is the Escalier de la Reine Berthe (Queen Bertha’s Staircase), a towerlike covered stairwell clinging to a half-timbered house that dates back to the early 16th century.

There are some lovely half-timbered houses north of here on rue du Bourg and to the west on rue de la Poissonnerie; look for the magnificent Maison du Saumon (Salmon House) at Nos 10 to 14, with its carved consoles of the eponymous salmon, the Archangel Gabriel and Mary and Archangel Michael slaying the dragon.


SAVED BY RED TAPE
Anyone who has tried to live or work legally in France will know that bureaucracy à la française is at best perfect material for a comedy sketch, and at worst a recipe for madness. Yet were it not for administrative bumbling, the magnificent cathedral at Chartres would probably have been destroyed during the French Revolution.
While antireligious fervour was reaching fever pitch in 1791, the Revolutionaries decided that the cathedral deserved something more radical than mere desecration: demolition. The question was how to accomplish that. To find an answer, they appointed a committee, whose admirably thorough members deliberated for four or five years. By that time the Revolution’s fury had been spent, and – to history’s great fortune – the plan was shelved.

From place St-Pierre you get a good view of the flying buttresses holding up the 12th- and 13th-century Église St-Pierre. Once part of a Benedictine monastery founded in the 7th century, it was outside the city walls and thus vulnerable to attack; the fortresslike, pre-Romanesque bell tower attached to it was used as a refuge by monks, and dates from around 1000. The fine, brightly coloured clerestory windows in the nave, choir and apse date from the early 14th century.

To the northwest on place St-Aignan, Église St-Aignan is interesting for its wooden barrel-vault roof (1625), arcaded nave and painted interior of faded blue and gold floral motifs (c 1870). The stained glass and the Renaissance Chapelle de St-Michel date from the 16th century.

Le Petit Chart’ Train ( 02 37 25 88 50; [email protected]; adult/3-10yr €5.50/3; 10.30am-6pm Apr-Oct), Chartres’ electric tourist train, covers the main sights in 35 minutes; it departs from in front of the tourist office.

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INFORMATION

 
  • Atlanteam ( 02 37 36 62 15; 13bis rue Jehan de Beauce; €1/2/3.60 per 15/30/60min; 10.30am-midnight Mon-Sat, 2pm-midnight Sun) Internet café.
  • Post Office (3 blvd Maurice Violette)
  • Tourist Office ( 02 37 18 26 26; www.chartres-tourisme.com; place de la Cathédrale; 9am-7pm Mon-Sat, 9.30am-5.30pm Sun Apr-Sep, 10am-6pm Mon-Sat, 10am-1pm & 2.30-4.30pm Sun Oct-Mar) Rents 1½-hour English-language audioguide tours (€5.50/8.50 for one/two) of the medieval city and has info on binocular rental, cathedral lectures in English etc.

THE BUTCHER OF CHARTRES
There’s nothing sinister about the butcher of Chartres. Boucherie Pinson, the medieval town’s oldest boucherie, tucked behind cherry-red and chocolate ironwork at 4 rue du Soleil d’Or, is all about good, honest, old-fashioned charm.
The shop has been in business since 1892, and Roland Pinson has wielded the proprietor’s knife with precision since 1958. He might well be in his late 70s, but it’s clear from the ferocious passion with which he discusses his cuts that he is here to stay.
‘It’s my life,’ he says with a wry smile, as if it could possibly be anything but. A historic relic, this butcher’s shop is a blast to the past. There is no cash register (just a paper ledger), no digital scales, no meat behind glass or hiding the nasty bits in a back room (fat trimmed from Pinson’s legendary entrecôte and other joints are popped in a wooden drawer). Hunks of meat hang on hooks above a long wooden chopping block, chopped so much it’s U-shaped. White marble clads all four walls bar one in which a 1930s refrigerated larder – the nearest thing to modernity – is embedded. The patterned mosaic floor is original.
Customers, fiercely loyal, have grown up with this shop. Each is greeted first by Madame Pinson, well wrapped in winter coat, hat and scarf (there doesn’t appear to be heating in the shop) – kiss, kiss, one on each cheek – followed by Monsieur Pinson between chops. He wears a shirt and tie underneath his bloodied apron and service is endearingly slow.
‘Do you have any calf kidneys today Roland?’ ‘No, only lamb.’ It’s not all about an attentive personal service. As EU regulations (to which this butcher’s shop, being a protected historical monument, appears immune) are fast seeing certain meat cuts disappear, this butcher of Chartres is one of France’s last bastions of une bouffe d’autrefois (cuisine of yesteryears).

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EATING

Maison du Saumon et de la Truie qui File ( 02 37 36 28 00; 10-14 rue de la Poissonnerie; menus €29.80, €31.60 & €32.90; lunch Tue-Sun, dinner to 11.30pm Tue-Sat) Inhabiting Chartres’ most photographed half-timbered building, this medieval landmark cooks up a bit of everything, ranging from Polish stuffed cabbage rolls and Hungarian ghoulash to Alsatian sauerkraut and Moroccan tajines (€18.50). Kids get roast chicken and veg in their menu (€9).

Le Bistro de la Cathédrale ( 02 37 36 59 60; 1 Cloître Notre Dame; starters €10-15, mains €15-20; lunch & dinner to 10.30pm, closed Sun Sep-Easter) Our favourite in the shadow of the cathedral, this stylish wine bar is the place for a long lazy lunch over a glass or three of wine. Tasty morsels to soak it up are chalked on the boards inside and out.

Café Serpente ( 02 37 21 68 81; 2 Cloître Notre Dame; starters €6-14.80, mains €15-20; 10am-11pm) Its location slap-bang opposite the cathedral ensures this brasserie and salon de thé is always full. Cuisine is traditional and its chef also constructs well-filled sandwiches (€3.80 to €5.80).

La Chocolaterie ( 02 37 21 86 92; 14 place du Cygne; 8am-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 10am-7.30pm Mon & Sun) Leave the tourists behind. Revel instead in local life at this bar-cum-chocolate-shop overlooking the open-air flower market in place du Cygne. Its coloured macaroons – orange, apricot, pistachio, pineapple and so on in flavour – are to die for, as are its sweet homemade crêpes, brownies and Madeleine sponge cakes.

Self-Catering

 
  • Covered Market (place Billard; 7am-1pm Wed & Sat)
  • Monoprix (21 rue Noël Ballay & 10 rue du Bois Merrain; 9am-7.30pm Mon-Sat) Department store with ground-floor supermarket.

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SLEEPING

The tourist office has a list of guesthouses and B&Bs in town.

Best Western Le Grand Monarque ( 02 37 18 15 15; www.bw-grand-monarque.com; 22 place des Épars; s €101-175, d €121-175, tr €175, ste €206-249; ) With its sage-green shutters piercing a façade dating to 1779, lovely stained-glass ceiling and treasure-trove of period furnishings, old B&W photos and knick-knacks, the Grand Monarch is a historical gem – well worn but charming nonetheless. Dining is fine in its gourmet restaurant, George (starters €12 to €23, mains €30 to €35, menus €47 and €65).

Hôtel du Bœuf Couronné ( 02 37 18 06 06; 15 place Châtelet; s/d with washbasin €30/35, s/d with bathroom €46/57; mid-Jan–mid-Dec) The red-curtained entrance lends a vaguely theatrical air to this two-star Logis de France guesthouse in the centre of everything. Its summertime terrace restaurant cooks up cathedral-view dining (half-board €64 per person) and the Dicken’s Blues bar is right next door.

Auberge de Jeunesse ( 02 37 34 27 64; www.auberge-jeunesse-chartres.com; 23 av Neigre; dm incl breakfast €13; reception 2-10pm) An easy 1.5km stroll northeast from the train station via blvd Charles Péguy and blvd Jean Jaurès or a trip aboard bus 5 (direction Mare aux Moines) to the Rouliers stop brings you to Chartres’ well-run hostel. Rates include breakfast with cathedral view, but sheets are €2.

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GIVERNY

The prized drawcard of this tiny village (population 544), northwest of Paris en route to Rouen, is the Maison de Claude Monet (House of Claude Monet; 02 32 51 28 21; www.fondation-monet.com; 84 rue Claude Monet, Giverny; adult/7-12yr/under 7yr €5.50/4/free, 9.30am-6pm Tue-Sun Apr-Oct), the home and flower-filled garden of one of the leading impressionist painters and his family from 1883 to 1926. Here Monet painted some of his most famous series of works, including Décorations des Nymphéas (Water Lilies). Unfortunately, the hectare of land that Monet owned here has become two distinct areas, cut by the Chemin du Roy, a small railway line that has been converted into the D5 road.

The northern area of the property is Clos Normand, where Monet’s famous pastel pink-and-green house and the Atelier des Nymphéas (Water Lilies Studio) stand. These days the studio is the entrance hall, adorned with precise reproductions of his works and ringing with cash-register bells from busy souvenir stands. Outside are the symmetrically laid-out gardens. Visiting the house and gardens is a treat in any season. From early to late spring, daffodils, tulips, rhododendrons, wisteria and irises appear, followed by poppies and lilies. By June, nasturtiums, roses and sweet peas are in blossom. Around September, there are dahlias, sunflowers and hollyhocks.

From the Clos Normand’s far corner a tunnel leads under the D5 to the Jardin d’Eau (Water Garden). Having bought this piece of land in 1895 after his reputation had been established (and his bank account had swelled), Monet dug a pool, planted water lilies and constructed the famous Japanese bridge, since rebuilt. Draped with purple wisteria, the bridge blends into the asymmetrical foreground and background, creating the intimate atmosphere for which the ‘Painter of Light’ was famous.

About 100m northwest of the Maison de Claude Monet is the Musée d’Art Américain (American Art Museum; 02 32 51 94 65; www.maag.org; 99 rue Claude Monet, Giverny; adult/12-18yr/under 12yr €5.50/4/free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun Apr-Oct), a modern building displaying a fine collection of the works of many of the American impressionist painters who flocked to France in the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

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INFORMATION

For online information, www.giverny-art.com and www.ville-vernon27.fr for information on Vernon, 7km northwest of Giverny.

 
  • Vernon Tourist Office ( 02 32 51 39 60; [email protected]; 36 rue Carnot; 9am-12.30pm & 2-6pm Mon-Sat, 10am-noon Sun May-Oct, 9am-12.30pm & 2-5.30pm Tue-Sat Nov-Apr) The closest tourist office is in Vernon; travelling by train, stop here before continuing to Giverny.

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EATING & SLEEPING

Many Giverny restaurants and hotels are only open in season.

Auberge du Vieux Moulin ( 02 32 51 46 15; www.vieuxmoulingiverny.com; 21 rue de la Falaise, Giverny; salads €12, lunch Mon-Fri €15; lunch Tue-Sun Sat Apr-Oct) The lovely little ‘Old Mill Inn’, a couple of hundred metres east of the Maison de Claude Monet, is an excellent place for lunch and has a lovely terrace.


TRANSPORT: GIVERNY
 
  • Distance from Paris 76km
  • Direction Northwest
  • Travel time 45 minutes by train to Vernon, then 20 by bus or bicycle
  • Car Route A13 from Paris’ Port de St-Cloud (direction Rouen), exit No 14 to route N15 (direction Vernon & Giverny)
  • SNCF train From Paris’ Gare St-Lazare there are two early-morning SNCF trains to Vernon (€11.90), from where seasonal shuttle buses ( 02 32 71 06 39; €4 return; Apr-Oct) continue from the station to Giverny, 7km northwest. Miles more fun is to hire a bike for €12 a day from the café facing the station on place de la Gare, Bar-Restaurant du Chemin de Fer ( 02 32 21 16 01; 6.30am-11pm); take your passport as a deposit. Between 5pm and 9pm there’s roughly one train an hour back to Paris.

Hôtel La Musardière ( 02 32 21 03 18; 123 rue Claude Monet; s/d/tr/q €67/79/100/110) This two-star 10-room hotel evocatively called the ‘Idler’ is set amid a lovely garden less than 100m northeast of the Maison de Claude Monet. Dining in its summer restaurant (menus €26 and €36) is a pleasure.

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AUVERS-SUR-OISE

On 20 May 1890 the painter Vincent Van Gogh left a mental asylum in Provence and moved to this small village (population 6940) north of Paris. He came here to reacquaint himself with the light with which he was so familiar in his native Holland, and to be closer to his friend and benefactor Dr Paul Ferdinand Gachet (1828–1909), whose house, the Maison du Docteur Gachet ( 01 30 36 81 27; rue du Docteur Gachet; adult/18-25yr/under 18yr €4/3.50/free; 10.30am-6.30pm Wed-Sun Apr-Oct), can be visited. He set to work immediately, producing at least one painting or sketch every day until his death on 29 July, two months after his arrival.

Today Auvers-sur-Oise is predominantly a shrine to the great impressionist painter. Foremost is the Maison de Van Gogh ( 01 30 36 60 60; [email protected]; rue de la Sansonne; adult/12-18yr/under 12yr €5/3/free; 10am-6pm Tue-Sun Mar-Oct), actually the Auberge Ravoux, where the artist stayed during his 70 days here. Bar the seasonal restaurant on the ground floor, for the most part it’s empty. However, there’s an excellent video on Van Gogh’s life and work, and the bedroom in which he fatally wounded himself is strangely moving.

Northwest is the Maison-Atelier de Daubigny ( 01 34 48 03 03; 61 rue Daubigny; adult/under 12yr €5/free; 2-6.30pm Thu-Sun Easter–early Nov), the house studio of artist Charles-François Daubigny (1818–78), who began the practice of painting en plein air (outside), pre-empting the impressionists. He decorated the walls of his studio from top to bottom with help from painters Camille Corot (1796–1875) and Honoré Daumier (1808–79), and the result is stunning. To learn more about the forays and frolics of Daubigny, his friends and pupils, visit the small Musée Daubigny ( 01 30 36 80 20; rue de la Sansonne; adult/under 18yr €4/free; 2-6pm Wed-Fri, 10.30am-1pm & 2-6pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct, 2-5pm Wed-Fri, 10.30am-1pm & 2-6pm Sat & Sun Nov & mid-Jan–Mar), above the tourist office in the delightful Manoir des Colombières.

Heading west is the sprawling 17th-century Château d’Auvers ( 01 34 48 48 45; www.chateau-auvers.fr; rue de Léry; adult/6-18yr €11.50/7.50; 10.30am-6pm Tue-Fri & 10.30am-6.30pm Sat & Sun Apr-Sep, 10.30am-4.30pm Tue-Fri & 10.30am-5.30pm Sat & Sun Oct-Dec & mid-Jan–Mar), whose inspired, enormously informative audiovisual presentation on Van Gogh and other impressionists who found their way to Auvers is essential for anyone wanting to truly immerse themselves in the Van Gogh era. En route nip into the Musée de l’Absinthe ( 01 30 36 83 26; 44 rue Callé; adult/15-18yr/under 15yr €4.50/3.80/free; 1.30-6pm Wed-Fri, 11am-6pm Sat & Sun mid-Jun–mid-Sep, 11am-6pm Sat & Sun mid-Sep–Nov & Mar–mid-Jun) to discover the history of the liqueur that possibly contributed to Van Gogh’s downfall (below).

Finally, there’s the Église Notre Dame (rue Daubigny; 9.30am-6pm), subject of Van Gogh’s L’Église d’Auvers (1890), and the cemetery (Chemin des Vallées) where he and his brother Théo are buried.

Chateau aside, practically everywhere is shut in winter.


ABSINTHE: SPIRIT OF THE AGE
In its heyday absinthe was akin to the marijuana of the 1960s or the cocaine of the ’80s. But until it became the drink of choice among artists, artistes and the underclasses (and thus gained in notoriety), absinthe had been a bourgeois favourite, sipped quietly and innocuously in cafés around the land. It was only when the creative world discovered the wormwood-based liqueur and its hallucinogenic qualities that it took off, and everyone from Paul Verlaine, Arthur Rimbaud, Oscar Wilde, Édouard Manet, Edgar Degas, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec and, of course, Vincent Van Gogh wrote about it, painted it and/or drank it. Whether or not it was the fée verte (green fairy), as absinthe was known during the belle époque, that pushed Van Gogh off the edge is not known; some say he was so poor he couldn’t even afford this relatively cheap libation and instead sometimes ate paint containing lead, which may have driven him mad.
More than anything else, the easy availability and low cost of the spirit led to widespread alcoholism and in 1915, having just entered into war against Germany and its allies, France found it prudent to ban the drink altogether. Incredibly, it wasn’t until 1998 that absinthe became legal again in France (and the EU).
Try it for €3.70 a 2cL shot at Auvers’ Café de la Paix (opposite).

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INFORMATION

 
  • Post Office (place de la Mairie)
  • Tourist Office ( 01 30 36 10 06; www-auvers-sur-oise.com, in French; rue de la Sansonne; 9.30am-12.30pm & 2-6pm Tue-Sun Apr-Oct, to 5pm or 5.30pm Nov-Mar) Ask for its excellent free brochure, Parcours des Peintres de la Vallée de l’Oise, which maps out the spots where Van Gogh, Daubigny and others painted. Mid-March to October it runs guided Van Gogh tours around the village, departing at 3pm on Sunday (€5.50).

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EATING & SLEEPING

There’s a Moroccan place opposite the station, Thai at the chateau end of the village and a crêperie neighbouring Café de la Paix, all open year-round.

Auberge Ravoux ( 01 30 36 60 60; 52 rue du Général de Gaulle; 2-/3-course menu €29/37; lunch Wed-Sun & dinner to 9.30pm Fri & Sat Mar–early-Nov) What could be a more appropriate way to celebrate the life of Vincent Van Gogh than by having lunch or dinner in the house in which he died? Auberge Ravoux has been a café d’artistes (artists’ café; or so it claims) since 1876, so it predates Van Gogh’s fateful sojourn by more than a dozen years. Reservations essential.

Café de la Paix ( 01 30 36 73 23; 11 rue du Général de Gaulle; starters €8-10, mains €8.50-15, lunch menus €12.80 & €18.90; 7am-8.30pm Wed-Sun, 7am-3pm Mon) Across the road from Auberge Ravoux, locals pile into the 1950s village cinema, now a café-restaurant with stage and wooden floor where jazz concerts take centre stage at weekends. Food covers the whole gamut, from brasserie-style grills to more-refined restaurant dishes, and it has a few hotel rooms up top.

Impressionist Café ( 01 30 36 71 31; Château d’Auvers; starters €10-12, mains €14.50-20, lunch menus €16 & €20; lunch Tue-Sun) A delightful spot to eat and drink à la château, be it a light lunch (its plat du jour with a glass of wine costs €15) or a sweet something in the afternoon. Seating is beneath stone vaults or in the shade of the chateau outside; don’t miss the 17th-century grotto adorned with thousands of tiny shells next to the restaurant entrance.


TRANSPORT: AUVERS-SUR-OISE
 
  • Distance from Paris 35km
  • Direction North
  • Travel time 60 to 70 minutes by train, bus or RER/bus
  • Car Route A15 from Paris’ Porte de Clichy, exit 7 to route N184 (direction Beauvais), exit ‘Méry-sur-Oise’
  • Bus From mid-April to mid-October Les Cars Air France ( 01 74 25 08 12) operates a direct bus several times a week from place de la Porte Maillot (Map) to Auvers-sur-Oise.
  • RER train Line A3 from Gare de Lyon or Châtelet-Les Halles (€5.40) to Cergy Préfecture station, then Val d’Oise bus 95-07 (destination Butry) to rue du Général de Gaulle. The last bus ( 01 34 25 30 81) back to Paris leaves Auvers around 8pm weekdays (7pm weekends).
  • SNCF train Suburban train from Gare du Nord or Gare St-Lazare to Pontoise or Persan Beaumont then a connecting train to Auvers-sur-Oise; the last train to Paris leaves just after 9pm weekdays (10.30pm weekends). April to October, the SNCF runs a direct train (30 minutes) on Sunday departing from Gare du Nord at 9.56am and leaving Auvers at 6.15pm; the SNCF package (adult/10-17yr/6-9yr €16.10/14.20/10.20) including return transport from Paris and chateau admission is available year-round.

Restaurant Joël Bouilleaut ( 01 30 36 70 74; 6 rue du Général de Gaulle; menus €49 & €79; lunch & dinner Tue-Fri, dinner Sat, lunch Sun; ) The racing-green canopied entrance sets the tone for Auvers’ stiff, fine-dining restaurant, best in summer when tables spill into the walled garden with church view.

Hostellerie du Nord ( 01 30 36 70 74; www.hostelleriedunord.fr; 6 rue du Général de Gaulle; d €95-125; Mon-Sat; ) The 17th-century townhouse in which this eight-room inn slumbers was one of France’s first post offices. Each room evokes a different artist: sloping-ceilinged Van Gogh faces the church the artist so famously painted; Ferrière showcases flowery watercolours for sale by the local artist; and Ferré – the only room to have a terrace – is for sculpture lovers. No rooms available on Sunday evening, when the entire place closes. Free wi-fi.

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DISNEYLAND RESORT PARIS

It took almost €4.6 billion and five years of hard graft to turn the beet fields east of the capital into Europe’s first Disney theme park, which opened amid much fanfare and controversy in 1992. Rocky start now a million moons away, what started out as Euro-Disney sees visitors (mostly families) pour into the park to scare themselves silly in the blood-curdling Tower of Terror, dance in a High School Musical, dive with Nemo, hit 70km/h in a Space Mountain rocket, shake Winnie the Pooh’s paw and share a fiesta of other magical moments with Mickey and his Disney mates. The park celebrated its 15th anniversary in 2007, but as its marketing bumph boasts, ‘the party never stops…’

One-day admission fees at Disneyland Resort Paris ( 01 60 30 60 60 53; www.disneylandparis.com; adult/3-11yr €46/38; Disneyland Park 10am-8pm Mon-Fri early May–mid-Jun & Sep-Mar, 9am-11pm early Jul-Aug; Walt Disney Studios Park 9am-6pm late Jun–early Sep, 10am-6pm Mon-Fri & 9am-6pm Sat & Sun early Sep–late Jun) include unlimited access to all rides and activities in either Disneyland Park or Walt Disney Studios Park. Those who opt for the latter can enter Disneyland Park three hours before it closes. Multiple-day passes are also available: a one-day Passe-Partout (adult/child €56/48) allows entry to both parks for a day and its multiday equivalents (two days €103/84, three days €128/105) allow you to enter and leave both parks as often as you like over nonconsecutive days used within one year. Some shows and activities such as breakfast, lunch or dinner with the Disney characters (from €22/15 per adult/child) cost extra. Admission fees change season to season and a multitude of special offers and accommodation/transport packages are always available.


TRANSPORT: DISNEYLAND RESORT PARIS
 
  • Distance from Paris 32km
  • Direction East
  • Travel time 35 to 40 minutes by RER train
  • Car Route A4 from Porte de Bercy, direction Metz-Nancy, exit No 14
  • RER train Line A4 to Marne-la-Vallée/Chessy, Disneyland’s RER station, from central Paris (€7.50, adult/3 to 11 years €47/39 incl park admission). Trains run every 15 minutes or so, with the last train back to Paris just after midnight.

Anyone who abhors long queues, go elsewhere: queues here are hideous and can make it hard going for those with younger children in tow. Buy your tickets at tourist offices or train stations in Paris beforehand to avoid at least one queue (for tickets); once in, reserve your slot on the busiest rides using FastPass, the park’s ride reservation system (limited to one reservation at a time).

Disneyland comprises three areas plus a golf course: Disney Village, with its hotels, shops, restaurants and clubs; Disneyland Park, with its five theme parks; and Walt Disney Studios Park, which brings film, animation and TV production to life, most recently in the walking, talking, life-sized shape of alien puppy Stitch and the dimly lit rollercoaster ride, Crush’s Coaster. Fans of the film Cars will love the Cars Race Rally. RER and TGV train stations separate the first two, and the studios neighbour Disneyland Park. Moving walkways whisk visitors to the sights from the far-flung car park.

Disneyland Park’s pays (lands) include Main Street USA, a spotless avenue just inside the main entrance reminiscent of Norman Rockwell’s idealised small-town America c 1900; Frontierland, a re-creation of the ‘rugged, untamed American West’ with the legendary Big Thunder Mountain ride (minimum height 1.02m); and Adventureland, which evokes the Arabian Nights, the wilds of Africa and other exotic lands portrayed in Disney films, including that of the Pirates of the Caribbean; the spiralling 360-degrees rollercoaster, Indiana Jones and the Temple of Peril, is the biggie here (minimum height 1.40m). Pinocchio, Snow White and other fairy-tale characters come to life in Fantasyland, while Discoveryland is the spot for high-tech attractions and massive-queue rides like Space Mountain: Mission 2 (minimum height 1.32m), Star Tours and the Toy Story 2–inspired Buzz Lightyear Laser Blast, apparently still the hottest thing since sliced bread.

Before hot-footing it to Disney, devote a good hour on its website planning your day – which rides, shows, characters etc you really want to see.

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EATING & SLEEPING

No picnics allowed at Disneyland Paris! But there are ample themed restaurants to pick from, be it Buzz Lightyear’s Pizza Planet (Discoveryland), Planet Hollywood or the Happy Days–inspired Annette’s Diner (Disney Village), the meaty Silver Spur Steakhouse or Mexican Fuente del Oro (Frontierland) and the sea-faring Blue Lagoon restaurant (Adventureland) for future pirates. Most have menus for children (around €10) and adults (€20 to €30); opening hours vary. To avoid another queue, pick your place online and reserve a table in advance ( 01 60 30 40 50).

The resort’s seven own American-themed hotels (central booking 01 60 30 60 30) and a handful of others are linked by free shuttle bus to the parks. Rates vary hugely, peaking in July and August and around Christmas; on Friday and Saturday nights and during holiday periods April to October; and on Saturday night mid-February to March. The cheapest rates are Sunday to Thursday January to mid-February, mid-May to June, September, and November to mid-December.

Advertised rates are for a minimum of two, three or four nights and supplementary nights can be added – rates include park admission. Lucky hotel guests are often entitled on designated days to two ‘Magic hours’ in Disneyland Park when the park is closed to regular punters. Consider Disney’s Hotel New York for Big Apple 1930s Art Deco, its Newport Bay Club for a nautical theme, Hotel Cheyenne for Hollywood, and Santa Fe for some deep southwest. Otherwise, try the prince or the pauper of the sleeping scene:

 
  • Disneyland Hôtel (d 2-night/3-day package per adult €483-720; ) The flagship of Disneyland Resort Paris accommodation, this 496-room Victorian palace stares in all its majesty at Sleeping Beauty’s 43m-tall castle.
  • Disney’s Davy Crockett Ranch (d 2-night/3-day package per adult €242-361) As ‘relaxing’ as you’re gonna’ get at Disney, this trapper’s village is not bad. Imagine 535 log cabins planted in a 57 hectare-large wood with limited self-catering facilities (fridge, microwave). Cabins sleep up to six.

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PARC ASTÉRIX

Just beyond Roissy Charles de Gaulle airport, this seasonal theme park splits into seven ‘zany zones’, the Gaulish Village, the Roman Empire, Ancient Greece and so on. Rides are numerous, invariably hair-raising and as much a hit with kids as the various shows, spectacles and devilishly Gaullist pranks throughout the day.

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INFORMATION

 
  • Parc Astérix ( 08 26 30 10 40; www.parcasterix.com, in French; adult/3-11yr/under 3yr €37/27/free, parking €7; 10am-6pm early Apr, 10am-7pm Jun-Aug, 10am-7pm Wed, Sat & Sun Sep–early Oct) Tickets including admission and all transport to/from the park (adult/3-11yr €41.60/27) are available at most RER and SNCF stations in central Paris.

TRANSPORT: PARC ASTÉRIX
 
  • Distance from Paris 36km
  • Direction Northeast
  • Travel time 50 to 60 minutes by shuttle, RER train and bus
  • Car Route A1, Parc Astérix, exit between exit Nos 7 and 8
  • Shuttle The park operates a daily navette (shuttle; 01 48 62 38 33; adult/3-11yr return €19/13) departing from outside the Louvre (metro Palais Royal) at 8.45am and from Parc Astérix at 6.30pm.
  • RER train & bus Line B3 from Châtelet or Gare du Nord to Aéroport Roissy Charles de Gaulle 1 train station, then take the Courriers Île-de-France shuttle bus ( 01 48 62 38 33; adult/3-11yr return €6.90/5), departing from the bus station, platform 3, every half-hour between 9.30am and 6.30pm (7pm from the park).

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REIMS

This city of 202,600 people some 144km northeast of Paris has two claims to fame. It is by far the largest and most attractive of the major champagne-producing centres, affording travellers a smorgasbord of things to see and do as well dining and accommodation options. At the same time, as the so-called Coronation City, Reims – pronounced something like ‘rance’ – is the place where, over the course of a millennium (816 to 1825), some 34 sovereigns – among them 25 kings – began their reigns as Christian rulers.

The focal point of these pompous occasions was Cathédrale Notre Dame (www.cathedrale-reims.com, in French; place du Cardinal Luçon; 7.30am-7.30pm, closed to visitors Sun morning), a Gothic edifice begun in 1211 – on a site occupied by churches since the 5th century – and mostly completed 100 years later. The most famous event to take place here was the coronation of Charles VII, with Joan of Arc at his side, on 17 July 1429. The tourist office rents audioguides (1/2 people €5/9) with self-paced tours of the cathedral. Tours of the cathedral tower (adult/12-25yr €6.50/4.50; Tue-Sat & afternoon Sun early May–early Sep, Sat & afternoon Sun mid-Mar–early May & early Sep-Oct) can be booked at the Palais du Tau.

Very badly damaged by artillery and fire during WWI, the 138m-long cathedral, a Unesco World Heritage Site, is more interesting for its dramatic history than its heavily restored architectural features. The finest stained-glass windows are the western façade’s 12-petalled great rose window, its almost cobalt-blue neighbour below it, and the rose window in the north transept arm (to the left), above the flamboyant Gothic organ case (15th and 18th centuries) topped with a figure. Nearby is a 15th-century wooden astronomical clock. There’s a window by Chagall (1974) in the central axial chapel (behind the high altar) portraying Christ and Abraham and, two chapels to the left, a statue of Joan of Arc. Persons strong-of-thigh might want to climb the 250 steps of the cathedral tower on a one-hour tour.


TRANSPORT: REIMS
 
  • Distance from Paris 144km
  • Direction Northeast
  • Travel time 45 minutes by TGV, 1½ to 1¾ hours by normal train or car
  • Car Route A4 from Paris’ Porte de Bercy (direction Metz)), exit No 23 (Reims-Centre)
  • Train Up to 15 daily trains link Reims with Paris’ Gare de l’Est (€22.70, 1¾ hours); seven of them are TGVs (45 minutes, €28). Information and tickets in the city centre are available at the Boutique SNCF (1 cours Jean-Baptiste Langlet; 9am-7pm Mon-Fri, 10am-6pm Sat).

Next door, the Palais du Tau ( 03 26 47 81 79; www.palais-du-tau.fr, in French; 2 place du Cardinal Luçon; admission free until end Jun 2008, then adult/under 18yr €6.50/free; 9.30am-6.30pm Tue-Sun early May–early Sep, 9.30am-12.30pm & 2-5.30pm Tue-Sun early Sep–early May), a former archbishop’s residence constructed in 1690, was where French princes stayed before their coronations and where they hosted sumptuous banquets afterwards. Now a museum, it displays truly exceptional statues, ritual objects and tapestries from the cathedral, some in the impressive Salle du Tau.

The rich collections of the Musée des Beaux-Arts ( 03 26 47 28 44; 8 rue Chanzy; 10am-noon & 2-6pm Wed-Sun), housed in an 18th-century building, include one of only four versions of Jacques-Louis David’s world-famous Death of Marat (yes, the bloody one in the bathtub), 27 works by Camille Corot (only the Louvre has more), lots of Barbizon School landscapes, Art Nouveau creations by Émile Gallé and two works each by Monet, Gauguin and Pissarro.

No visit to Reims would be complete without a tour of a champagne cave (cellar) and eight maisons (houses or producers) offer guided tours of their premises that end, naturellement, with a tasting session. Of the Reims trinity, Mumm ( 03 26 49 59 70; www.mumm.com; 34 rue du Champ de Mars; tours adult/under 12yr €8/free; tours 9am-10.50am & 2pm-4.40pm daily Mar-Oct, Sat only Nov-Feb) is most easily accessible from the centre, while Taittinger ( 03 26 85 84 33; www.taittinger.com; 9 place St-Niçaise; tours adult/under 12yr €10/free; tours 9.30am-noon & 2pm-4.30pm, closed Sat & Sun mid-Nov–mid-Mar) and Pommery ( 03 26 61 62 55; www.pommery.fr; 5 place du Général Gouraud; tours adult/student & 12-17yr/under 12yr €10/7/free; tours 9.30am-7pm Apr–mid-Nov, 10am-6pm Sat & Sun mid-Nov–Mar) are under 2km to the southeast.

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INFORMATION

 
  • Tourist Office ( 03 26 77 45 00; www.reims-tourisme.com; 2 rue Guillaume de Machault; 9am-7pm Mon-Sat, 10am-6pm Sun mid-Apr–mid-Oct, 10am-6pm Mon-Sat, 11am-4pm Sun mid-Oct–mid-Apr) The Reims City Card (€14) gets you a champagne house tour, an all-day bus ticket, entry to four municipal museums, including Musée des Beaux-Arts, and a guided tour of the cathedral.

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EATING & SLEEPING

L’Apostrophe ( 03 26 79 19 89; 59 place Drouet d’Erlon; starters €6.50-15.10, mains €14.50-25, lunch menus €14; lunch & dinner to 11.30pm) This stylish café-brasserie in the centre of Reims dispenses French and international cuisine as well as some mean piscines (enormous cocktails for several people). A perennial favourite thanks to its chic atmosphere, summertime terrace and good value. Open as a café straight through from 9am to 1am.

Waïda ( 03 26 47 44 49; 5 place Drouet d’Erlon; 7.30am-7.30pm Wed-Sun) An old-fashioned salon de thé and confectionery with mirrors, mosaics and marble. This is the place to buy a box of a box of biscuits roses (pink biscuits; €3.30), traditionally nibbled with champagne.

Hôtel de la Cathédrale ( 03 26 47 28 46; www.hotel-cathedrale-reims.fr; 20 rue Libergier; s/d/q €54/62/78; ) Charm, graciousness and a resident Yorkshire terrier greet guests at this hostelry run by two musicians. The 17 tasteful rooms are smallish but pleasingly chintzy and some have been recently renovated. There are four floors but no lift. Go for room No 14 with two windows or No 43 with views of Basilique St-Rémi and the hills to the south.

Latino Hôtel ( 03 26 47 48 89; www.latinocafe.fr; 33 place Drouet d’Erlon; s & d €54-74, apt €130; Filles du Calvaire; ) This budget boutique hotel above a buzzy musical café has a dozen gaily painted guestrooms (think cherry and pumpkin) over five floors but no lift. The furnishings are fun, the welcome exceptionally warm and we love the quotes from the great and the good (Gandhi, Boris Vian) painted on the hall walls. The apartment on the top floor looking straight onto the cathedral can accommodate up to five people.


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TRANSPORT


    AIR
    BICYCLE
    BOAT
    BUS
    CAR & MOTORCYCLE
    METRO & RER NETWORKS
    TAXI
    TRAIN
    TRAM & FUNICULAR


Few roads don’t lead to Paris, one of the most visited destinations on earth. Practically every major airline flys through it, and most European train tracks and bus routes cross it.

As for getting around – easy! The metro system is vast, efficient and spans every pocket of Paris. Buses are more scenic but can be slowed by traffic, while getting to know the many different routes is an art in itself.

For those who prefer a spot of fresher air in their lungs, or who simply want to make getting from A to B a historical and aesthetic feast in itself, walking and Rollerblading are serious options. With city sights spread across a distance no greater than 10km, the major places of interest are pleasurably walkable. That is, of course, if Paris’ innovative, highly praised communal bicycle scheme, Vélib’ (opposite), doesn’t tempt you into some footloose and fancy-free pedal-powered action.

Book flights, tours and train tickets online at www.lonelyplanet.com/travel_services.

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AIR

Most international airlines fly through Paris; for flight, route and carrier info contact Aéroports de Paris ( 39 50, from abroad +33 1 70 36 39 50; www.aeroportsdeparis.fr).


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ONLINE TICKET RESOURCES
No great deal to be struck going straight to the airline website? See what these online airline ticketing resources throw up.
 


THINGS CHANGE...
The information in this chapter is particularly vulnerable to change. Check directly with the airline or a travel agent to make sure you understand how a fare (and ticket you may buy) works and be aware of the security requirements for international travel. Shop carefully. The details given in this chapter should be regarded as pointers and are not a substitute for your own careful, up-to-date research.

Airports

Paris is served by Aéroport d’Orly and Aéroport Roissy Charles de Gaulle, both well linked by public transport to central Paris. More of a trek is Aéroport de Beauvais, which handles charter and some budget carriers, including Ryanair and Central Wings.

ORLY

The older, smaller of Paris’ two major airports, Aéroport d’Orly (ORY; Map; 39 50, from abroad +33 1 70 36 39 50; www.aeroportsdeparis.fr), is 18km south of the city. Its two terminals, Orly Ouest (Orly West) and Orly Sud (Orly South), are linked by a free shuttle bus service that continues to/from the airport car parks and RER C station Pont de Rungis-Aéroport d’Orly (boxed text); the Orlyval automatic metro links both terminals with the RER B station Antony (boxed text).

Need to get from Orly to Roissy Charles de Gaulle (or vice versa)? See below.

ROISSY CHARLES DE GAULLE

Aéroport Roissy Charles de Gaulle (CDG; 39 50, from abroad +33 1 70 36 39 50; www.aeroportsdeparis.fr), 30km northeast of central Paris in the suburb of Roissy, has three aérogares (terminals) – aptly numbered 1, 2 and 3 – and two train stations served by commuter trains on RER line B3: Aéroport Charles de Gaulle 1 (CDG1), which serves terminals 1 and 3, and the sleek Aéroport Charles de Gaulle 2 (CDG2) for terminal 2. A free shuttle bus links the terminals with the train stations.

To get to/from Charles de Gaulle and Orly, take the RER line B3 to the Antony stop then pick up the Orlyval automatic metro (adult/child four to ten years €9.30/4.65) or hop aboard the Air France shuttle bus 3 (adult/child 2-11yr €16/8; 6am or 7am–10.30pm) linking the two airports. Both journeys take an hour, as does a taxi (€50 to €60). Click here ).

BEAUVAIS

Charter companies and Ryanair, Central Wings and various other budget airlines land/take off at Aéroport Paris-Beauvais (BVA; 0 892 682 066; www.aeroportbeauvais.com), 75km north of central Paris.

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BICYCLE

Two-wheeling has never been so good in the city of romance thanks to Vélib’ (a crunching of vélo, meaning bike, and liberté, meaning freedom), a self-service bike scheme whereby you pick up a pearly-grey bike for peanuts from one roadside Vélib’ station, pedal wherever you’re going, and park it right outside at another.

A runaway success since its launch in 2007, Vélib’ ( 01 30 79 79 30; www.velib.paris.fr; day/week/year subscription €1/5/29, bike hire 1st/2nd/3rd & each additional half-hr free/€2/4) has revolutionised how Parisians get around. Its 1451 stations Vélib’ across the city – one every 300m – sport 20-odd bike stands a head (at the last count there were 20,600 bicycles in all flitting around Paris) and are accessible around the clock.

To get a bike, you need a Vélib’ account: One- and seven-day subscriptions can be done on the spot at any station with any major credit card providing it has a microchip and pin number (be warned North Americans!). As deposit you’ll need to pre-authorise a direct debit of €150, all except €35 of which is debited if your bike is not returned or is reported as stolen). If the station you want to return your bike to is full, swipe your card across the multilingual terminal to get 15 minutes for free to find another station. Bikes are geared to cyclists aged 14 and over, and are fitted with gears, antitheft lock with key, reflective strips and front/rear lights. Bring your own helmet though!


BIKES ON PUBLIC TRANSPORT
Bicycles are not allowed on the metro except on line 1 on Sunday and public holidays. You can, however, take your bicycle to the suburbs on some RER lines on weekdays before 6.30am, between 9am and 4.30pm, after 7pm, and all day on the weekend and on public holidays. More lenient rules apply to SNCF commuter services. Contact SNCF Click here for details.

For more information on cycling in Paris, and a list of rental outlets where you can rent wheels for longer periods of time, Click here. Guided bicycle tours are listed on Click here.

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BOAT

For pleasure cruises on the Seine, Canal St-Martin and Canal de l’Ourcq, Click here.

For a more flexible, hop-on-and-off approach, sail with the Compagnie de Batobus ( 08 25 05 01 01; www.batobus.com; adult 1-/2-/3-day pass €12/14/17, student €8/9/11, child 2-16yr €6/7/8; 10am-9.30pm May-Aug, 10am-7pm Sep–mid-Nov & mid-Mar-Apr, 10.30am-4.30pm mid-Nov–mid-Dec & Feb–mid-Mar, 10.30am-5pm mid-Dec–Jan). Its fleet of glassed-in trimarans dock at small piers along the Seine and tickets are sold at each stop or tourist offices. For those keen to combine boat with bus, its Paris à la Carte deal allows two/three consecutive days of unlimited travel on Batobus boats and Open Tour buses Click here for €37/40. Boats depart every 15 to 30 minutes from various stops:


CLIMATE CHANGE & TRAVEL
Climate change is a serious threat to the ecosystems that humans rely upon, and air travel is the fastest-growing contributor to the problem. Lonely Planet regards travel, overall, as a global benefit, but believes we all have a responsibility to limit our personal impact on global warming.
Flying & Climate Change
Pretty much every form of motor transport generates CO₂ (the main cause of human-induced climate change) but planes are far and away the worst offenders, not just because of the sheer distances they allow us to travel, but because they release greenhouse gases high into the atmosphere. The statistics are frightening: two people taking a return flight between Europe and the US will contribute as much to climate change as an average household’s gas and electricity consumption over a whole year.
Carbon Offset Schemes
Climatecare.org and other websites use ‘carbon calculators’ that allow travellers to offset the greenhouse gases they are responsible for with contributions to energy-saving projects and other climate-friendly initiatives in the developing world – including projects in India, Honduras, Kazakhstan and Uganda.
Lonely Planet, together with Rough Guides and other concerned partners in the travel industry, supports the carbon offset scheme run by climatecare.org. Lonely Planet offsets all of its staff and author travel.
For more information check out our website: www.lonelyplanet.com.


GETTING INTO TOWN
Getting into town is straightforward and inexpensive thanks to a fleet of public-transport options, listed under airport headings. Bus drivers sell tickets.
Pricier, door-to-door alternatives include taxi (€40 to €50 between central Paris and Orly, €40 to €60 to/from Charles de Gaulle, €110 to €150 to/from Beauvais; Click here for taxi telephone numbers); or a private minibus shuttle such as Allô Shuttle ( 01 34 29 00 80; www.alloshuttle.com), Paris Airports Service ( 01 55 98 10 80; www.parisairportservice.com) or PariShuttle ( 01 53 39 18 18; www.parishuttle.com). Count on around €25 per person (€40 between 8pm and 6am) for Orly or Charles de Gaulle and €150 for one to four people to/from Beauvais. Book in advance and allow ample time for other pick-ups and drop-offs.
Aéroport d’Orly
Unless noted otherwise, these options to/from Orly call at both terminals.
 
  • Air France bus 1 ( 08 92 35 08 20; www.cars-airfrance.com; adult single/return €9/14; 6am-11.30pm from Orly, 5.45am-11pm from Invalides) This navette (shuttle bus) runs every 15 minutes to/from the eastern side of Gare Montparnasse (Map; 30 to 45 minutes) and Aérogare des Invalides (Map; 30 to 45 minutes) in the 7e. On the way into the city, passengers without baggage stowed in the coach hold can ask to get off at metro Porte d’Orléans (Map) or metro Duroc (Map).
  • Jetbus ( 01 69 01 00 09; adult/under 5yr €5.70/free; 6.20am-11.10pm from Orly, 6.15am-10.30am from Paris) Jetbus runs every 15 to 25 minutes to/from metro Villejuif Louis Aragon (Map; 55 minutes), a bit south of the 13e on the city’s southern fringe, from where a metro/bus ticket gets you into town.
  • Noctilien bus 31 ( 08 92 68 77 14, 08 92 68 41 14 in English; adult/4-9yr €6/3; 12.30am-5.30pm) Part of the RATP’s night service, Noctilien bus 31 links Gare de Lyon (Map), place d’Italie (Map) and Gare d’Austerlitz (Map) with Orly-Sud. It runs every hour and journey time is 45 minutes to an hour.
  • Orlybus ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult/4-11yr €6.10/3.05; 6am-11.50pm from Orly, 5.35am-11.25pm from Paris) This RATP bus runs every 15 to 20 minutes between both terminals and metro Denfert- Rochereau (Map; 30 minutes) in the 14e, making several stops in the eastern 14e en route.
  • Orlyval & RER B ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult/4-10yr €9.30/4.65; 6am-11pm) From either terminal take the Orlyval automatic rail to the RER B station Antony, then RER B4 north (35 to 40 minutes to Châtelet, every four to 12 minutes). Orlyval tickets are valid for the subsequent RER and metro journey.
  • RATP bus 183 ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult/4-9yr €1.50/0.75 or 1 metro/bus ticket; 6am-9.40pm from Orly, 5.35am-8.35pm from Porte de Choisy) The cheapest means of getting to/from Orly Sud, this slow public bus links the South Terminal with metro Porte de Choisy (Map; one hour), on the southern edge of the 13e, every 35 minutes.
  • RER C & shuttle ( 08 90 36 10 10; adult/4-10yr €6/4.25; 5.30am-11.50pm) From the airport, hop aboard an airport shuttle bus (every 15 to 30 minutes) to the RER station Pont de Rungis-Aéroport d’Orly, then RER C2 train to Paris’ Gare d’Austerlitz (50 minutes). Coming from Paris, be sure to get the shuttle at Pont de Rungis that goes to the correct terminal.
Aéroport Roissy Charles de Gaulle
 
  • Air France bus 2 ( 08 92 35 08 20; www.cars-airfrance.com; single/return €13/18; 5.45am-11pm) Links the airport every 15 minutes with the Arc de Triomphe outside 1 av Carnot, 17e (Map; 35 to 50 minutes) and the Palais des Congrès de Paris, 17e (Map; 35 to 50 minutes).
  • Air France bus 4 ( 08 92 35 08 20; www.cars-airfrance.com; single/return €14/22; 7am-9pm from CDG, 6.30am-9.30pm from Paris) Links the airport every 30 minutes with Gare de Lyon (Map; 45 to 55 minutes) and Gare Montparnasse (Map; 45 to 55 minutes).
  • Noctilien night bus ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult/4-9yr €7.50/3.75; 12.30am-5.30pm) Part of the RATP night service, Noctilien buses 120, 121 (linking Montparnasse, Châtelet, Gare du Nord) and 140 (linking Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est) go to Roissy-Charles de Gaulle hourly.
  • RATP bus 350 ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult/4-9yr €4.50/2.25 or 3 metro/bus tickets; 5.45am-7pm each direction) Links Aérogares 1 and 2 with Gare de l’Est (Map; one hour, every 30 minutes) and Gare du Nord (Map; one hour, every 30 minutes).
  • RATP bus 351 ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult/4-9yr €4.50/2.25 or 3 metro/bus tickets; 7am-9.30pm from the airport, 8.30am-8.20pm from Paris) Links the eastern side of place de la Nation (Map) with Roissy-Charles de Gaulle (55 minutes, every 30 minutes).
  • RER B ( 08 90 36 10 10; adult/4-11yr €8.20/5.80; 5am-midnight) RER line B3 links CDG1 and CDG2 with the city (30 minutes; every 10 to 15 minutes). To get to the airport take any RER line B train whose four-letter destination code begins with E (eg EIRE) and a shuttle bus (every five to eight minutes) takes you to the correct terminal. Regular metro ticket windows can’t always sell RER tickets to the airport so you may have to buy one at the RER station where you board.
  • Roissybus ( 08 92 68 77 14; adult €8.60; 5.45am-11pm) Direct public bus linking several points at both terminals with rue Scribe, next to Palais Garnier, in the 9e (Map; 45 to 60 minutes, every 15 minutes).
Aéroport Paris-Beauvais
 
  • Express Bus ( car park 08 92 68 20 64, airport 08 92 68 20 66; one way €13) Leaves Parking Pershing (Map), west of the Palais des Congrès de Paris, three hours before flight departures (board 15 minutes before) and leaves the airport 20 to 30 minutes after arrivals, dropping passengers south of the Palais des Congrès on place de la Porte Maillot (Map). Journey time is one to 1¼ hours and tickets can be purchased up to 24 hours in advance online (http://ticket.aeroportbeauvais.com), at the airport from Ryanair ( 03 44 11 41 41) and at a kiosk in the carpark. Only plane ticket holders can board the bus, so leave the farewell troops at home.

 
  • Champs-Élysées (Map; Port des Champs-Élysées, 8e; Champs-Élysées Clemenceau)
  • Eiffel Tower (Map; Port de la Bourdonnais, 7e; Champ de Mars-Tour Eiffel)
  • Hôtel de Ville (Map; quai de l’Hôtel de Ville, 4e; Hôtel de Ville)
  • Jardin des Plantes (Map; quai St-Bernard, 5e; Jussieu)
  • Musée d’Orsay (Map; quai de Solférino, 7e; Musée d’Orsay)
  • Musée du Louvre (Map; quai du Louvre, 1er; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre)
  • Notre Dame (Map; quai de Montebello, 5e; St-Michel)
  • St-Germain des Prés (Map; quai Malaquais, 6e; St-Germain des Prés)

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BUS

Local Buses

Paris’ bus system, operated by RATP (Click here), runs from 5.45am to 8.30pm Monday to Saturday; after that another 20 lines continue until 12.30am. Services are drastically reduced on Sunday and public holidays, when buses run from 7am to 8.30pm. Among many service en soirée (evening service) routes – distinct from the Noctilien overnight services described on right – are route 26 between the Gare St-Lazare and Cours de Vincennes via Gare du Nord and Gare de l’Est; route 38 linking Gare du Nord, Châtelet and Porte d’Orléans via blvd St-Michel; route 92 from Gare Montparnasse to place Charles de Gaulle and back via Alma Marceau; and route 95 between Porte de Montmartre and Porte de Vanves via Opéra and St-Germain. The same fares and conditions apply on evening routes as for regular daytime services. Most evening routes finish at around midnight.

Night Buses

Night buses pick up the traffic after the last metro (around 1am Sunday to Thursday, 2.15am Friday and Saturday). Buses depart hourly from 12.30am to 5.30pm. The RATP runs 42 night bus lines on its improved Noctilien network (www.noctilien.fr has information, maps and itineraries in English), including direct or semidirect services out to the suburbs. The services pass through the main gares (train stations) and cross the major axes of the city before leading out to the suburbs. Many go through Châtelet (rue de Rivoli and blvd Sébastopol). Look for blue N or Noctilien signs at bus stops. There are two circular lines within Paris (the N01 and N02) that link four main train stations, St-Lazare, Gare de l’Est, Gare de Lyon, Montparnasse (but not Châtelet), as well as popular nightspots Bastille, the Champs-Elysées, Pigalle and St-Germain.


VOGUÉO
That’s the name of Paris’ brand-spanking-new river metro (métro fluvial), set to sail along the Seine from the end of June 2008 for an initial two-year trial period.
Navettes (shuttle boats) will yo-yo between Gare d’Austerlitz (Map) and the École Vétérinaire de Maisons Alfort, southeast of central Paris in the Val de Marne – a 40-minute journey door to door – and will initially stop at Bibliothèque Nationale de François Mitterand, 13e (Map), Bercy, 12e (Map) and Port d’Ivry (Map). Boats will run every 20 minutes (every 30 minutes between 10am and 5pm) from 7am to 8.30pm Monday to Friday, and every 30 minutes from 10am to 8pm Saturday and Sunday. One-week Navigo Découverte travel passes will be valid aboard; otherwise pay €3 for a single fare.

The buses are equipped with security surveillance systems linked to local police, and RATP staff members are posted at major points to help passengers. Do remain alert, however, and watch your bags and pockets – especially on weekends when the post-drinking crowd circulates.

Noctilien services are free if you have a Mobilis or Paris Visite pass for the zones in which you are travelling. Otherwise you pay a certain number of standard €1.50 metro tickets, depending on the length of your journey: the driver can sell you tickets and will explain how many you need to get to your destination.

Tickets & Fares

Short bus rides embracing one or two bus zones cost one metro/bus ticket (€1.50); longer rides require two tickets. Transfers to other buses or the metro are not allowed on the same ticket. Travel to the suburbs costs up to three tickets, depending on the zone. Special tickets valid only on the bus can be purchased from the driver.

Whatever kind of single-journey ticket you have, you must oblitérer (cancel) it in the composteur (cancelling machine) next to the driver. If you have a Mobilis or Paris Visite pass, flash it at the driver when you board. Do not cancel the magnetic coupon that accompanies your pass.

Long-Distance Buses

Eurolines (Map; 01 43 54 11 99; www.eurolines.fr, in French; 55 rue St-Jacques, 5e; 9.30am-6.30pm Mon-Fri, 10am-1pm & 2-5pm Sat; Cluny-La Sorbonne), an association of more than 30 national and private bus companies that links Paris with points all over Western and Central Europe, Scandinavia and Morocco, can organise ticket reservations and sales. The Gare Routière Internationale de Paris-Galliéni (Map; 08 92 89 90 91; 28 av du Général de Gaulle; Gallieni), the city’s international bus terminal, is in the inner suburb of Bagnolet.

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CAR & MOTORCYCLE

The quickest way of turning your stay in Paris into an uninterrupted series of hassles is to drive. If driving the car doesn’t destroy your holiday sense of spontaneity, parking the thing certainly will.

Driving

While driving in Paris is nerve-wracking, it’s not impossible – except for the faint-hearted or indecisive. The fastest way to get across the city is usually via the blvd Périphérique (Map), the ring road that encircles the city.

Hire

You can get a small car (eg a Renault Twingo or Opel Corsa) for one day for no more than €100, including unlimited mileage and insurance. Most of the larger companies have offices throughout Paris and at airports and main train stations, including Gare de Nord (Map; Gare de Nord). Several are represented at Aérogare des Invalides (Map; Invalides) in the 7e.

 

Smaller agencies often offer more-reasonable rates and have several branches throughout Paris. Find a complete list in the Yellow Pages (www.pagesjaunes.fr, in French) under ‘Location d’Automobiles: Tourisme et Utilitaires’.

 
  • ADA ( 08 25 16 91 69; www.ada.fr, in French) ADA has a dozen branches in Paris including 8e arrondissement (Map; 01 42 93 65 13; 72 rue de Rome, 8e; Rome) and 11e arrondissement (Map; 01 48 06 58 13; 34 av de la République, 11e; Parmentier).
  • easyCar (www.easycar.com) This budget agency has cars at competitive prices from branches at main train stations including Montparnasse (Map; Parking Gaîté, 33 rue du Commandant René Mouchotte, 15e; Gaîté). Branches are in underground car parks and are fully automated systems; book in advance and fill in the forms online.
  • Rent A Car Système ( 08 91 70 02 00; www.rentacar.fr, in French) Rent A Car has 16 outlets in Paris, including Bercy (Map; 01 43 45 98 99; 79 rue de Bercy, 12e; Bercy) and 16e arrondissement (Map; 01 42 88 40 04; 84 av de Versailles, 16e; Mirabeau).

If you’ve got the urge to look like you’ve just stepped into (or out of) a black-and-white French film from the 1950s, a motor scooter will fit the bill perfectly.

 
  • Free Scoot (Map; 01 44 93 04 03; www.free-scoot.com, in French; 144 blvd Voltaire, 11e; 9am-1pm & 2-7pm Mon-Fri; Voltaire) Rents 50cc scooters per day/24 hours/weekend/week from €30/35/75/145, and 125cc scooters for €45/55/110/245. Prices include third-party insurance as well as two helmets, locks, raingear and gloves. To rent a 50/125cc scooter you must be at least 21/23 and leave a credit card deposit of €1300/1600. Freescoot runs a seasonal branch in the 5e arrondissement (Map; 01 44 07 06 72; 63 quai de la Tournelle, 5e; 9am-1pm & 2-7pm Mon-Sat mid-Apr–mid-Sep; Maubert Mutualité).

Parking

In most parts of Paris, street parking costs €1 to €3 an hour and is limited to a maximum of two hours. Municipal public car parks, of which there are 140 in Paris, charge between €1.70 and €2.80 an hour or €20 to €25 per 24 hours. Most open 24 hours.

Parking attendants dispense fines ranging from €11 to €35, depending on the offence and its gravity, with great abandon. To pay a fine, buy a timbre amende (fine stamp) for the amount written on the ticket from any tabac (tobacconist), stick a stamp on the preaddressed coupon and post it in a postbox.

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METRO & RER NETWORKS

Paris’ underground network, run by RATP (Régie Autonome des Transports Parisians), consists of two separate but linked systems: the Métropolitain, aka the métro, with 14 lines and 373 stations (one more will open in 2008 and another in 2010); and the RER (Réseau Express Régional), a network of suburban lines (designated A to E and then numbered) that pass through the city centre. When giving the names of stations in this book, the term ‘metro’ is used to cover both the Métropolitain and the RER system within Paris proper.

Information

Metro maps of various sizes and degrees of detail are available for free at metro ticket windows; several can also be downloaded for free from the highly informative, comprehensive and useful RATP website (www.ratp.fr).

For information on the metro, RER and bus systems, contact RATP ( 3246, 0 892 693 246; www.ratp.fr, in French; 7am-9pm Mon-Fri, 9am-5pm Sat & Sun).

Metro

Each metro train is known by the name of its terminus. On maps and plans each line has a different colour and number (from 1 to 14); Parisians usually refer to the line number.

Signs in metro and RER stations indicate the way to the correct platform for your line. The direction signs on each platform indicate the terminus. On lines that split into several branches (like lines 3, 7 and 13), the terminus of each train is indicated on the cars with backlit panels, and often on the increasingly common electronic signs on each platform giving the number of minutes until the next train.

Signs marked correspondance (transfer) show how to reach connecting trains. At stations with many intersecting lines, like Châtelet and Montparnasse Bienvenüe, walking from one train to the next can take a long time.

Different station exits are indicated by white-on-blue sortie (exit) signs. You can get your bearings by checking the plan du quartier (neighbourhood maps) posted at exits.

Each line has its own schedule, but trains usually start at around 5.30am, with the last train beginning its run between 12.35am and 1am (2.15am on Friday and Saturday).

RER

The RER is faster than the metro but the stops are much further apart. Some attractions, particularly those on the Left Bank (eg the Musée d’Orsay, Eiffel Tower and Panthéon), can be reached far more conveniently by the RER than by the metro.

RER lines are known by an alphanumeric combination – the letter (A to E) refers to the line, the number to the spur it will follow somewhere out in the suburbs. As a rule of thumb, even-numbered RER lines head for Paris’ southern or eastern suburbs, while odd-numbered ones go north or west. All trains whose four-letter codes (indicated both on the train and on the lightboard) begin with the same letter share the same terminus. Stations served are usually indicated on electronic destination boards above the platform.

Tickets & Fares

The same RATP tickets are valid on the metro, the RER (for travel within the city limits), buses, trams and the Montmartre funicular. A ticket – white in colour and called un ticket – costs €1.50 if bought individually and €11.10 for adults (half-price for children aged four to nine years for a carnet (book) of 10. Tickets are sold at all metro stations; ticket windows and vending machines accept most credit cards.

One metro/bus ticket lets you travel between any two metro stations (no return journeys) for a period of 1½ hours, no matter how many transfers are required. You can also use it on the RER for travel within zone 1. A single ticket can be used to transfer between buses, but not to transfer from the metro to bus or vice-versa.

Always keep your ticket until you exit from your station; you may be stopped by a contrôleur (ticket inspector) and will have to pay a fine (€25 to €50 on the spot or €47 to €72 within two months) if you don’t have a valid ticket.

TRAVEL PASSES

If you’re staying a week or more, the cheapest and easiest way to use public transport in Paris is to get a combined travel pass that allows unlimited travel on the metro, RER and buses for a week, a month or a year. You can get passes for travel in two to eight urban and suburban zones but, unless you’ll be using the suburban commuter lines extensively, the basic ticket valid for zones 1 and 2 should be sufficient.

The Navigo system (www.navigo.fr, in French), like London’s Oyster or Hong Kong’s Octopus cards, provides you with a refillable weekly, monthly or yearly unlimited pass that you can recharge at Navigo machines in most metro stations; swipe the card across the electronic panel as you go through the turnstiles. Standard Navigo passes, available to anyone with an address in Paris, are free but take up to three weeks to be issued; ask at the ticket counter for a form. Otherwise pay €5 for a Nagivo Découverte, issued on the spot but – unlike the Navigo pass – not replaceable if lost or stolen. Both passes require a passport photo and can be recharged for periods of one week or more.

A weekly ticket (coupon hebdomadaire) pass costs €16.30 for zones 1 and 2 and is valid from Monday to Sunday. It can be purchased from the previous Thursday until Wednesday; from Thursday weekly tickets are available for the following week only. Even if you’re in Paris for three or four days, it may work out cheaper than buying carnets and will certainly cost less than buying a daily Mobilis or Paris Visite pass (see below). The monthly ticket (coupon mensuel; €53.50 for zones 1 and 2) begins on the first day of each calendar month; you can buy one from the 20th of the preceding month. Both are sold in metro and RER stations from 6.30am to 10pm and at some bus terminals.

TOURIST PASSES

The Mobilis and Paris Visite passes are valid on the metro, RER, SNCF’s suburban lines (opposite), buses, night buses, trams and Montmartre funicular railway. No photo is needed, but write your card number on the ticket. Passes are sold at larger metro and RER stations, SNCF offices in Paris, and the airports.

The Mobilis card coupon allows unlimited travel for one day in two/three/four/five/six zones and costs €5.60/7.50/9.30/12.50/15.90. Buy it at any metro, RER or SNCF station in the Paris region. Depending on how many times you plan to hop on/off the metro in a day, a carnet might work out cheaper.

Paris Visite allows unlimited travel (including to/from airports) as well as discounted entry to certain museums and other discounts and bonuses. Passes are valid for either three, five or eight zones. The zone 1 to 3 pass costs €8.50/14/19/27.50 for one/two/three/five days. Children aged four to 11 years pay €4.25/7/9.50/13.75.

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TAXI

The prise en charge (flagfall) is €2.10. Within the city limits, it costs €0.82 per kilometre for travel between 10am and 5pm Monday to Saturday (Tarif A; white light on meter). At night (5pm to 10am), on Sunday from 7am to midnight, and in the inner suburbs the rate is €1.10 per km (Tarif B; orange light on meter). Travel in the outer suburbs is at Tarif C, €1.33 per kilometre. There’s a €2.75 surcharge for taking a fourth passenger, but drivers often refuse for insurance reasons. The first piece of baggage is free; additional pieces over 5kg cost €1 extra. When tipping, round up to the nearest €1.

Flagging down one of Paris’ 15,500-odd licensed taxis can be hard, particularly after 1am. Some ‘freelance’ (illegal) taxis nip around town but are not organised (like minicabs are in London) and offer no guarantee on price or safety.

To order a taxi, call Paris’ central taxi switchboard ( 01 45 30 30 30, passengers with reduced mobility 01 47 39 00 91; 24hrs) or reserve online with Alpha Taxis ( 01 45 85 85 85; www.alphataxis.com), Taxis Bleus ( 01 49 36 29 48, 08 91 70 10 10; www.taxis-bleus.com) or Taxis G7 ( 01 47 39 47 39; www.taxisg7.fr, in French).

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TRAIN

Suburban

The RER and the commuter lines of the SNCF (Sociéte’ Nationale des Chemins de Fer; 08 91 36 20 20, 08 91 67 68 69 for timetables; www.sncf.fr) serve suburban destinations outside the city limits (ie zones 2 to 8). Purchase your ticket before you board the train or you won’t be able to get out of the station when you arrive. You are not allowed to pay the additional fare when you get there.

If you are issued with a full-sized SNCF ticket for travel to the suburbs, validate it in one of the time-stamp pillars before you board the train. You may also be given a contremarque magnétique (magnetic ticket) to get through any metro-/RER-type turnstiles on the way to/from the platform. If you are travelling on a Mobilis or Paris Visite (opposite) pass, do not punch the magnetic coupon in one of the time-stamp machines. Most but not all RER/SNCF tickets purchased in the suburbs for travel to the city allow you to continue your journey by metro. For some destinations, tickets can be purchased at any metro ticket window; for others you have to go to an RER station on the line you need to buy a ticket.

Mainline & International

Thanks to very fast TGV (train à grande vitesse) trains, of which the French are inordinately proud, many of the most exciting and scenic cities in provincial France are all within a few hours of the capital from one of six major train stations, each with its own metro station: Gare d’Austerlitz (13e), Gare de l’Est (10e), Gare de Lyon (12e), Gare du Nord (10e), Gare Montparnasse (15e) and Gare St-Lazare (8e). Each station handles passenger traffic to different parts of France and Europe. Information for SNCF mainline services ( 36 35, 08 92 35 35 35; www.voyages-sncf.com) is available by phone or internet.

The super-speedy Eurostar ( 08 36 35 35 39; in UK 0875 186 186; www.eurostar.com) links Gare du Nord with London’s sizzling new St-Pancras International train station in a lightening two hours and not much longer with dozens of other regional stations in the UK; through-ticketing to/from Paris and 68 regional stations in the UK is now possible. Gare du Nord is likewise the point of departure/terminus for Thalys ( 36 35, 08 92 35 35 36; www.thalys.com) trains to Brussels, Amsterdam and Cologne.

Mainline stations in Paris have left-luggage offices or lockers (consignes). They cost €4/7.50/9.50 per 48 hours for a small/medium/large bag, then €5 per day per item. Most left-luggage offices and lockers open from around 6am to 11pm.

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TRAM & FUNICULAR

Paris has three tram lines (www.tramway.paris.fr, in French), although the majority of visitors are unlikely to use them: T1 links the northern suburb of St-Denis with Noisy le Sec on RER line E2 via metro Bobigny Pablo Picasso on metro line 5; T2 runs south along the Seine from La Défense to the Issy Val de Seine RER station on line C; and T3 traces a 7.9km-long curve around the southern edge of Paris from Point to Garigliano (15e), through Porte de Versailles (where it links with the T2), Porte d’Orléans, Porte d’Italie and up to Porte d’Ivry. Normal metro tickets and passes remain valid here and function in the same way as on the buses. Buy tickets at automatic machines at each tram stop.

One form of transport that most travellers will use is the Montmartre funicular, which whisks visitors up the southern slope of Butte de Montmartre from square Willette (metro Anvers) to Sacré Cœur.


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DIRECTORY


    BUSINESS HOURS
    CHILDREN
    CLIMATE
    COURSES
    CUSTOMS REGULATIONS
    DISCOUNT CARDS
    ELECTRICITY
    EMBASSIES
    EMERGENCY
    HOLIDAYS
    INSURANCE
    INTERNET ACCESS
    LAUNDRY
    LEGAL MATTERS
    MAPS
    MEDICAL SERVICES
    MONEY
    NEWSPAPERS & MAGAZINES
    ORGANISED TOURS
    PHOTOGRAPHY
    PLACES OF WORSHIP
    POST
    RADIO
    RELOCATING
    SAFETY
    TAXES & REFUNDS
    TELEPHONE
    TIME
    TIPPING
    TOILETS
    TOURIST INFORMATION
    TRAVELLERS WITH DISABILITIES
    VISAS
    WOMEN TRAVELLERS
    WORK


BUSINESS HOURS

Small businesses are open daily, except Sunday and sometimes Monday. Hours are usually 9am or 10am to 6.30pm or 7pm, often with a midday break from 1pm to 2pm or 2.30pm. Shops that open Monday usually get started late (eg at 11.30am).

Banks usually open from 8am or 9am to between 11.30am and 1pm, and then 1.30pm or 2pm to 4.30pm or 5pm, Monday to Friday or Tuesday to Saturday. Exchange services may end 30 minutes before closing time.

Most post offices open 8am to 7pm weekdays and 8am or 9am till noon on Saturday.

Supermarkets open Monday to Saturday from 8.30/9am to 8pm, though a few now open on Sunday morning as well. Small food shops are mostly closed on Sunday and often Monday too, so Saturday afternoon may be your last chance to stock up on certain types of food (eg cheese) until Tuesday.

Restaurants keep the most convoluted hours of any business in Paris; for details Click here.

Most museums are closed one day a week: usually Monday or Tuesday. Some museums have a weekly nocturne in which they remain open until as late as 10pm one night a week, including the Louvre (Wednesday and Friday) and the Musée d’Orsay (Thursday).

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CHILDREN

Paris is extraordinarily kid-friendly. Be it playing tag around Daniel Buren’s black and white columns at Palais Royal, laughing with puppets in Jardin de Luxembourg, sailing down the Seine or resting little legs with a city sightseeing tour via one of its two above-ground metro lines (2 and 6), there really does seem to be a cheap childish pleasure around every corner here.

Some restaurants serve a menu enfant (set children’s menu), usually for children under 12, though often starters or the savoury crêpes served in neighbourhood brasseries are more imaginative (steak haché and fries gets tiresome after two days). Cafétérias Click here are a good place to bring kids if you just want to feed and water them fast and cheaply, as are French chain restaurants Click here.

Kids aged between six and 12 and keen to cook and consume their own creations can do so at Alef-Bet.

Information

Pariscope and L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here both have decent ‘Enfants’ sections covering the week’s shows, theatre performances and circuses for kids. Online see the exhaustive site, www.cityjunior.com (in French).

The newspaper Libération Click here produces an English translation of its bimonthly supplement Paris Mômes (www.parismomes.fr, in French) called Paris with Kids. It has listings and other useful information aimed at kids up to age 12; focusing on the ‘unusual’ is its philosophy.

Lonely Planet’s Travel with Children by Cathy Lanigan includes useful advice for travelling parents.

Sights & Activities

Many museums organise educational, fun-packed ateliers enfants (kids’ workshops) for children from aged four or six and upwards. Sessions cost €3 to €10, last a couple of hours, and must be booked in advance; some are in English. Favourites include hands-on art workshops at Les Arts Décoratifs Click here, Musée de la Halle St-Pierre, Musée d’Orsay, Palais de Tokyo and Centre Pompidou; money- and medal-making at the Musée de la Monnaie de Paris; meeting marine life at the Centre de la Mer; learning about animals with activities and film at the Musée National d’Histoire Naturelle; and calligraphy, Arab music and mosaics at the Institut du Arabe Monde.

Building an Eiffel Tower, Parisian church or entire village from thousands of miniature wooden planks is what kids do at the innovative Centre Kapla (Map; 01 43 56 13 38; www.kapla.com/centre_kapla.html; 27 rue de Montreuil, 11e; sessions €10; 10.30am-6pm Wed, Sat & school holidays; Faidherbe-Chaligny). It runs three 1½ hour building sessions daily; book in advance.

Around Paris, the mesmerising equestrian displays and stable visits at Versailles and Chantilly make magical half-day trips; the Disney and Astérix theme parks Click here need at least a full day.

See the Neighbourhoods chapter for details on the following suggestions:

 
  • Children’s Playgrounds Port de Plaisance de Paris-Arsenal (Map; 4e; Bastille); Jardin du Luxembourg (Map; 6e; Luxembourg); Square Willette (Map; Montmartre, 18e; Anvers)
  • CineAqua (Map; 2 av des Nations Unies, 16e; Trocadéro)
  • Cité de la Musique (Map; 221 av Jean Jaurès, 19e; Porte de Pantin) Saturday-morning educational concerts, music discovery workshops, concerts and shows for children.
  • Cité des Sciences et de l’Industrie (Map; Parc de la Villette, 19e; Porte de la Villette) Including the Géode, Cinaxe and planetarium.
  • Eiffel Tower (Map; Parc du Champ de Mars, 7e; Champ de Mars-Tour Eiffel)
  • Exploradôme & Jardin d’Acclimatation (Map; Bois de Boulogne; Les Sablons) Interactive science, art and multimedia; plus a funfair to fill a day.
  • Ménagerie du Jardin des Plantes (Map; Jardin des Plantes, 5e; Jussieu or Gare d’Austerlitz) Near the Musée National d’Histoire Naturelle.
  • Musée de la Curiosité et de la Magie (Map; 11 rue St-Paul, 4e; St-Paul) Magic shows.
  • Palais de la Découverte (Map; Champs-Élysées, 8e; Champs-Élysées Clemenceau)
  • Parc Zoologique de Paris (Map; Bois de Vincennes; Porte Dorée)

Babysitting

L’Officiel des Spectacles Click here lists gardes d’enfants (baby-sitters) available in Paris.

 
  • Au Paradis des Petits ( 01 43 65 58 58) From €7 per hour (€10 subscription fee).
  • Baby Sitting Services ( 01 46 21 33 16) From €6.80 per hour (€11.90 subscription), €60 for 10 hours or one day.
  • Étudiants de l’Institut Catholique (Map; 01 44 39 60 24; 21 rue d’Assas, 6e; Rennes) From €7.50 per hour (plus €2 for each session).
  • Fondation Claude Pompidou ( 01 40 13 75 00) Specialises in looking after children with disabilities.

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CLIMATE

The Paris basin lies midway between coastal Brittany and mountainous Alsace and is affected by both climates. The Île de France region, of which Paris is the centre, records among the lowest annual precipitation (about 640mm) in the nation, but rainfall is erratic; you’re just as likely to be caught in a heavy spring shower or an autumn downpour as in a sudden summer cloudburst. Paris’ average yearly temperature is just under 12°C (2°C in January, 19°C in July), but the mercury sometimes drops below zero in winter and can climb into the 30s in the middle of summer.

You can find out the weather forecast in French for the Paris area by calling 0 892 680 275. The national forecast can be heard on 0 899 701 234 in French or 0 899 701 111 in one of 11 different languages. Call charges for either number are €1.35 then €0.35 per minute. Another number (French only) is 3250 charged at €0.34 per minute. The summary can also be read for free on the website of Météo France (www.meteofrance.com, in French).

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COURSES

Cooking

What better place to discover the secrets of la cuisine française than in Paris, the capital of gastronomy? Courses are available at different levels and lengths of time and the cost of tuition varies widely. One of the most popular – and affordable – for beginners is the Les Coulisses du Chef Cours de Cuisine Olivier Berté (Map; 01 40 26 14 00; www.coursdecuisineparis.com; 2nd fl, 7 rue Paul Lelong, 2e; Bourse), which offers three-hour courses (adult/12 to 14 years €100/30) at 10.30am from Wednesday to Saturday with an additional class from 6pm to 9pm on Friday. ‘Carnets’ of five/20 courses cost €440/1500.

Much more expensive are the Paris Cooking Classes with Patricia Wells (www.patriciawells.com; US$5000) led by the incomparable American food critic and author at her cooking studio in rue Jacob, 6e. The class runs from Monday to Friday, is limited to seven participants and includes market visits, tastings, local transport and daily lunch. boxed text. For information about getting the kids in front of the stove, Click here.

Other cooking schools in Paris include the following:

 
  • Coin-Cuisine (Map; 01 45 79 01 40; www.coin-cuisine.fr, in French; 110 rue du Théatre, 15e; Av Émile Zola) Courses of various themes and levels lasting from one to four hours (€16 to €80).
  • Cook’n with Class (Map; 06 31 73 62 77; www.cooknwithclass.com; 21 rue Custine, 18e; Château Rouge) Morning/evening/full-day classes available for €135/135/200.
  • École Le Cordon Bleu (Map; 01 53 68 22 50; www.cordonbleu.edu; 8 rue Léon Delhomme, 15e; Vaugirard or Convention) Dating back to 1895, the Cordon Bleu school has professional courses as well as one-day themed workshops (€160) on topics like terrines and viennoiserie (baked goods), and two- (€299) and four-day courses (€869) on classic and modern sauces and the secrets of bread and pastry making.
  • École Ritz Escoffier (Map; 01 43 16 30 50; www.ritzescoffier.com; 15 place Vendôme, 1er Concorde) This prestigious cooking school is based in what is arguably Paris’ finest hotel (though you also enter from 38 rue Cambon, 1er). A four-hour Saturday themed workshop (petits fours, truffles, carving fruit and vegetables, pairing food and wine etc) costs €135; a two-day introductory course is €920.

Language

All manner of French-language courses, lasting from two weeks to a full academic year, are available in Paris, and many places begin new courses every month or so.

 
  • Alliance Française (Map; 01 42 84 90 00; www.alliancefr.org; 101 blvd Raspail, 6e; 8.30am-7pm Mon & Tue, 8.30am-6pm Wed-Fri; St-Placide) French courses (minimum two weeks) at all levels begin every two weeks; registration (€55) takes place five days before. Intensif courses meet for four hours a day, start at 9am and 1.30pm and cost from €400/700 for two weeks/one month; extensif courses involve three hours of class for three days a week, start at the same two times and cost from €176/332.
  • Cours de Langue et Civilisation Françaises de la Sorbonne (Map; 01 44 10 77 00, 01 40 46 22 11; www.ccfs-sorbonne.fr; Galerie Richelieu, office C391, 17 rue de la Sorbonne, 5e; 10am-noon & 2-4pm Mon-Fri; Cluny La Sorbonne or Maubert Mutualité) The Sorbonne’s prestigious French Language and Civilisation Course has courses for all levels. A four-week summer course starts at €530, while 20 hours a week of lectures and tutorials costs €1300 per semester. Instructors take a very academic (though solid) approach to language teaching.
  • Eurocentres (Map; 01 40 46 72 00; www.eurocentres.com; 13 passage Dauphine, 6e; 8.15am-6pm Mon-Fri; Odéon) Intensive courses lasting two/four weeks with 10 to 14 participants cost from €660/1272. New courses begin every two, three or four weeks.
  • Inlingua (Map; 01 45 51 46 60; www.inlingua-paris.com; 109 rue de l’Université, 7e; 7.30am-8.15pm Mon-Fri, 9am-1.30pm Sat; Invalides) Individual and group lessons for all levels, from ‘first contacts’ through to that linguistic state we all aspire to, ‘full control’. It has seven centres, including in La Défense and Versailles. French lessons for kids too.
  • Institut Parisien de Langue et de Civilisation Françaises (Map; 01 40 56 09 53; www.institut-parisien.com; 2nd fl, 29 rue de Lisbonne, 8e; 8.30am-5pm Mon-Fri; Monceau) Four-week courses with a maximum of 10 students per class cost €148/222/296/370 for 10/15/20/25 hours a week plus an enrolment fee of €40.
  • Langue Onze (Map; 01 43 38 22 87; www.langueonzeparis.com; 15 rue Gambey, 11e; 11am-5pm Mon-Fri; Parmentier) Well-received independent language school with two-/four-week intensive courses of four hours’ instruction a day for €390/630; evening classes (four hours a week) start at €175 for four weeks. Classes have a maximum of nine students.

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CUSTOMS REGULATIONS

Duty-free shopping within the EU was abolished in 1999; you cannot, for example, buy tax-free goods in, say, France and take them to the UK. However, you can still enter an EU country with duty-free items from countries outside the EU (eg Australia, the USA) where the usual allowances apply: 200 cigarettes, 50 cigars or 250g of loose tobacco; 2L of still wine and 1L of spirits; 50g of perfume and 250cc of eau de toilette.

Do not confuse these with duty-paid items (including alcohol and tobacco) bought at normal shops in another EU country (eg Spain or Germany) and brought into France, where certain goods might be more expensive. Here allowances are generous: 800 cigarettes, 200 cigars, 400 small cigars or 1kg of loose tobacco; and 10L of spirits (more than 22% alcohol by volume), 20L of fortified wine or aperitif, 90L of wine or 110L of beer.

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DISCOUNT CARDS

Museums, the national rail service SNCF (Société Nationale des Chemins de Fer), ferry companies and other institutions give discounts to those aged under 26 (ie holders of the International Youth Travel Card, IYTC), students with an International Student Identity Card (ISIC; age limits may apply) and le troisième age (usually those aged over 60). Look for the words tarif réduit (reduced rate) or demi-tarif (half-price tariff) and then ask if you qualify. Those under 18 years of age get an even wider range of discounts, including free admission to the musées nationaux (national museums). Some 22 museums are free on the first Sunday of every month, though not necessarily year-round. For specifics, Click here.

The Paris Museum Pass (www.parismuseumpass.fr; 2/4/6 days €30/45/60) is valid for entry to some 38 venues in Paris – including the Louvre, Centre Pompidou, Musée d’Orsay as well as the Musée du Quai Branly and Cité de l’Architecture et du Patrimoine. Outside the city limits but still within the Île de France region, it will get you into another 22 places, including the basilica at St-Denis and parts of the chateaux at Versailles and Fontainebleau. The pass is conveniently available online as well as from the participating venues, branches of the Paris Convention & Visitors Bureau, Fnac outlets Click here, RATP (Régie Autonome des Transports Parisians) information desks and major metro stations.

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ELECTRICITY

France runs on 220V at 50Hz AC. Plugs are the standard European type with two round pins. French outlets often have an earth (ground) pin in which case you may have to have a French adapter to use a two-pin European plug. The best place for adapters and other electrical goods is the Bazar de l’Hôtel de Ville department store near Hôtel de Ville or any branch of the electronics chain Darty ( 0 821 082 082; www.darty.fr, in French; 10am-7.30pm Mon-Sat), which has a République branch (Map) 1 av de la République, 11e; République) and a Ternes branch (Map; 8 av des Ternes, 17e; Ternes).

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EMBASSIES

French Embassies & Consulates

Almost all of the French embassies and consulates listed following have information posted on the internet at www.france.diplomatie.fr.

 

Embassies & Consulates in Paris

It’s important to realise what your own embassy – the embassy of the country of which you are a citizen – can and cannot do to help you if you’re in trouble. In general, it won’t be much help if the trouble you’re in is even remotely your own fault. Remember that you are bound by French law while visiting Paris. Your embassy will not be sympathetic if you commit a crime locally, even if such actions are legal in your own country.

In genuine emergencies you might get some assistance, but only if other channels have been exhausted. For example, if you need to get home urgently, a free ticket home is exceedingly unlikely – the embassy would expect you to have insurance. If you have all your money and documents stolen, it might assist with getting a new passport, but a loan for onward travel is usually out of the question.

The following is a list of selected embassies and consulates in Paris. For a more complete list, consult the Pages Jaunes (Yellow Pages; www.pagesjaunes.fr, in French) under ‘Ambassades et Consulats’ or the website of the tourist office (www.parisinfo.com).

 
  • Australia embassy (Map; 01 40 59 33 00; 4 rue Jean Rey, 15e; Bir Hakeim)
  • Belgium embassy (Map; 01 44 09 39 39; 9 rue de Tilsitt, 17e; Charles de Gaulle-Étoile)
  • Canada embassy (Map; 01 44 43 29 00; 35 av Montaigne, 8e; Franklin D Roosevelt)
  • Germany embassy (Map; 01 53 83 45 00; 13-15 av Franklin D Roosevelt, 8e; Franklin D Roosevelt); consulate (Map; 01 53 83 46 70; 28 rue Marbeau, 16e; Porte Maillot)
  • Ireland embassy (Map; 01 44 17 67 00; 4 rue Rude, 16e; Argentine)
  • Italy embassy (Map; 01 49 54 03 00; 47-51 rue de Varenne, 7e; Rue du Bac); consulate (Map; 01 44 30 47 00; 5 blvd Émile Augier, 16e; La Muette)
  • Japan embassy (Map; 01 48 88 62 00; 7 av Hoche, 8e; Courcelles)
  • Netherlands embassy (Map; 01 40 62 33 00; 7 rue Eblé, 7e; St-François Xavier)
  • New Zealand embassy (Map; 01 45 00 24 11; 7ter rue Léonard de Vinci, 16e; Victor Hugo)
  • South Africa embassy (Map; 01 53 59 23 23; 59 quai d’Orsay, 7e; Invalides)
  • Spain embassy (Map; 01 44 43 18 00; 22 av Marceau, 8e; Alma-Marceau)
  • Switzerland embassy (Map; 01 49 55 67 00; 142 rue de Grenelle, 7e; Varenne); consulate (Map; 01 45 66 00 80; 13 rue du Laos, 15e)
  • UK embassy (Map; 01 44 51 31 00; 35 rue du Faubourg St-Honoré, 8e; Concorde); consulate (Map; 01 44 51 31 02; 18bis rue d’Anjou, 8e; Concorde)
  • USA embassy (Map; 01 43 12 22 22; 2 av Gabriel, 8e; Concorde); consulate (Map; 0 810 264 626; 2 rue St-Florentin, 1er; Concorde)

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EMERGENCY

The following numbers are to be dialled in an emergency. Click here for hospitals with 24-hour accident and emergency departments.

 
  • Ambulance (SAMU; 15)
  • EU-wide emergency hotline ( 112)
  • Fire brigade ( 18)
  • Police ( 17)
  • Rape crisis hotline (Viols Femmes Informations; 0 800 05 95 95; 10am-7pm Mon-Fri)
  • SOS Helpline ( 01 47 23 80 80; in English 3-11pm daily)
  • SOS Médecins ( 01 47 07 77 77, 24hr house calls 0 820 33 24 24; www.sosmedecins-france.fr)
  • Urgences Médicales de Paris (Paris Medical Emergencies; 01 53 94 94 94; www.ump.fr, in French)

Lost Property

All objects found anywhere in Paris – except those picked up on trains or in train stations – are brought to the city’s Bureau des Objets Trouvés (Lost Property Office; Map; 0 821 00 25 25; www.prefecture-police-paris.interieur.gouv.fr/demarches/article/service_objets_trouves.htm, in French; 36 rue des Morillons, 15e; 8.30am-5pm Mon-Thu, 8.30am-4.30pm Fri; Convention), which is run by the Préfecture de Police. Since telephone enquiries are impossible, the only way to find out if a lost item has been located is to go there and fill in the forms in person.

Items lost on the metro are held by station agents ( 3246; 7am-9pm Mon-Fri, 9am-5pm Sat & Sun) before being sent to the Bureau des Objets Trouvés. Anything found on trains or stations is taken to the lost-property office (usually attached to the left-luggage office) of the relevant station. Phone enquiries (in French) are possible:

 
  • Gare d’Austerlitz ( 01 53 60 71 98)
  • Gare de l’Est ( 01 40 18 88 73)
  • Gare de Lyon ( 01 53 33 67 22)
  • Gare du Nord ( 01 55 31 58 40)
  • Gare Montparnasse ( 01 40 48 14 24)
  • Gare St-Lazare ( 01 53 42 05 57)

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HOLIDAYS

There is at least one public holiday a month in France and, in some years, up to four in the month of May alone. Be aware, though, that unlike in the USA or UK, where public holidays usually fall on (or are shifted to) a Monday, in France a jour férié (public holiday) is celebrated strictly on the day on which it falls. Thus if May Day falls on a Saturday or Sunday, no provision is made for an extra day off.

The following holidays are observed in Paris:

 
  • New Year’s Day (Jour de l’An) 1 January
  • Easter Sunday & Monday (Pâques & Lundi de Pâques) Late March/April
  • May Day (Fête du Travail) 1 May
  • Victory in Europe Day (Victoire 1945) 8 May
  • Ascension Thursday (L’Ascension) May (celebrated on the 40th day after Easter)
  • Pentecost/Whit Sunday & Whit Monday (Pentecôte & Lundi de Pentecôte) Mid-May to mid-June (Seventh Sunday and Monday after Easter)
  • Bastille Day/National Day (Fête Nationale) 14 July
  • Assumption Day (L’Assomption) 15 August
  • All Saints’ Day (La Toussaint) 1 November
  • Armistice Day/Remembrance Day (Le Onze Novembre) 11 November
  • Christmas (Noël) 25 December

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INSURANCE

A travel insurance policy to cover theft, loss and medical problems is a good idea. There is a wide variety of policies available, so check the small print. EU citizens on public-health insurance schemes should note that they’re generally covered by reciprocal arrangements in France.

You may prefer a policy which pays doctors or hospitals directly rather than you having to pay on the spot and then claim it back later. If you have to claim later make sure you keep all documentation. Ensure that your policy covers ambulances or an emergency flight home.

Paying for your airline ticket with a credit card often provides limited travel accident insurance, and you may be able to reclaim the payment if the operator doesn’t deliver. Ask your credit card company what it’s prepared to cover.

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INTERNET ACCESS

Paris has a surfeit of internet cafés. Among the biggest, best and/or most central:

 
  • Baby Connect (Map; 01 40 62 98 00; 56 rue de Babylone, 7e; per 15/30/60min €1/2/4; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat; St-François Xavier) Very near La Pagode cinema.
  • Cyber Cube (Map; 01 56 80 08 08; www.cybercube.fr; 9 rue d’Odessa, 14e; per 15/30min €1/2, per 5/10hr €30/40; 10am-10pm; Montparnasse Bienvenüe) One of three branches; expensive but convenient to Gare Montparnasse.
  • Cyber Latin (Map; 01 42 22 89 35; 35bis rue de Fleurus, 6e; per 15/30/60min €1.25/2.25/4, per 5/10/20hr €17/34/56; 9.30am-7.30pm Mon-Fri, 11.30am-7.30pm Sat; St-Placide) Just west of the Jardin du Luxembourg.
  • Cyber Squ@re (Map; 01 48 87 82 36; [email protected]; 1 place de la République; per 5/15/30/60min €0.75/2.30/3.80/6, per 10/20hr €45/76; 10am-8pm Mon-Sat; République) This small but convivial place on two levels is entered from passage Vendôme.
  • Manga Square (Map; 28 blvd de Sébastopol, 4e; per 1hr €3, per 5/10 hr €15/27.50; 1-10pm; Les Halles) Groovy cyber café in a shop selling Japanese comic books.
  • Milk (Map; 0 820 00 10 00; www.milklub.com; 17 rue Soufflot, 5e; daytime per 1/2/3/5hr €4/7/9/12, night time per 3/10hr €6/13; 24hr; Luxembourg) This branch of a minichain of seven internet cafés, including a big Les Halles branch (Map; 31 blvd de Sébastopol, 1er; 24hr; Les Halles), is bright, buzzy and open round the clock.
  • Netvision (Map; 01 43 25 13 90; 10 Gît le Cœur, 6e; per 1min €0.07, 20min €1.40; 10am-8pm; St-Michel) On a quiet street west of the blvd St-Michel.
  • Phon’net (Map; 01 42 05 10 73; 74 rue de Charonne, 11e; per 1/5/15/30hr €5/16/30/45; 10am-midnight; Charonne or Ledru Rollin)
  • Taxiphone Internet (Map; 01 42 59 64 14; 2 rue de La Vieuville, 18e; per 5/10/20/30/60min €0.50/1/2/3/4, per 5hr €10; 9am-10pm Mon-Sat; Abbesses) One of the few internet cafés in high-rent Montmartre.
  • Web 46 (Map; 01 40 27 02 89, fax 01 40 27 03 89; 46 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e; per 15/30/60min €2.50/4/7, per 5hr €29; 10am-11pm Mon-Fri, 10am-9pm Sat, noon-11pm Sun; St-Paul) Pleasant, very well-run café in the heart of the Marais.
  • Zeidnet (Map; 01 44 07 20 15; www.zeidnet.com; 18 rue de la BÛcherie, 5e; per 10/30/60min €1/2.50/4; 10.30am-11pm; Maubert-Mutualité) Small and personal, handy to Notre Dame.

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LAUNDRY

There’s a laverie libre-service (self-service laundrette) around every corner in Paris; your hotel or hostel can point you to one in the neighbourhood. Machines usually cost €3.50 to €4.50 for a small load (around 6kg) and €5.50 to €8 for a larger one (about 10kg). Drying costs €1 for 10 to 12 minutes. Some laundrettes have self-service nettoyage à sec (dry-cleaning) machines.

You usually pay at a monnayeur central (central control box) – not the machine itself – and push a button that corresponds to the number of the washer or dryer you wish to operate. Some machines don’t take notes; come prepared with change for the séchoirs (dryers) as well as the lessive (laundry powder) and javel (bleach) dispensers.

The control boxes are sometimes programmed to deactivate the machines 30 minutes to an hour before closing time.

Among centrally located self-service laundrettes are the following:

 
  • C’Clean Laverie (Map; 18 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; 7am-9pm; Oberkampf)
  • Julice Laverie 56 rue de Seine, 6e; 7am-11pm (Map; Mabillon); 22 rue des Grands Augustins, 6e; 7am-9pm (Map; St-André des Arts)
  • Lav’ Net (Map; 88 bis blvd du Port-Royal, 5e; Port-Royal)
  • Laverie Libre Service 7 rue Jean-Jacques Rousseau, 1er, near the BVJ Paris-Louvre hostel (Map; 7.30am-10pm; Louvre-Rivoli); 14 rue de la Corderie, 3e (Map; 8am-9pm, République or Temple); 35 rue Ste-Croix la Bretonnerie, 4e (Map; 7am-9pm, Hôtel de Ville); 25 rue des Rosiers, 4e (Map; 7.30am-10pm; St-Paul); 216 rue St-Jacques, 5e, three blocks southeast of the Panthéon (Map; 7am-10pm; Luxembourg) 63 rue Monge, 5e, south of the Arènes de Lutèce (Map; 6.30am-10pm; Place Monge) 3 rue de la Montagne Ste-Geneviève & 2 rue Jean de Beauvais, 5e (Map; 7am-11pm; Maubert-Mutualite); 116 rue d’Assas, 6e (Map; 7am-10pm; Mabillon); 94 rue du Dessous des Berges, 12e (Map; 7.30am-10pm; Bibliothèque); 92 rue des Martyrs, 18e (Map; 7.30am-10pm; Abbesses); 4 rue Burq, 18e, west of the Butte de Montmartre (Map; 7.30am-10pm; Blanche)
  • Laverie Libre Service Primus 40 rue du Roi de Sicile, 4e(Map–9; 7.30am-10pm St-Paul); 83 rue Jean-Pierre Timbaud, 11e; 7.30am-10pm (Map; Couronnes)
  • Laverie Miele Libre Service (Map; 4 rue de Lappe, 11e; 7am-10pm; Bastille)
  • Laverie SBS (Map); 6 rue des Petites Écuries, 10e; 7am-10pm; Château d’Eau)
  • Salon Lavoir Sidec (Map; 28 rue des Trois Frères, 18e; 7am-8.50pm; Abbesses)

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LEGAL MATTERS

Drink Driving

As elsewhere in the EU, the laws in France are very tough when it comes to drinking and driving, and for many years the slogan has been: ‘Boire ou conduire, il faut choisir’ (roughly – to make it rhyme in English too – ‘To drive or to booze, you have to choose’). The acceptable blood-alcohol limit is 0.05%, and drivers exceeding that amount but still under 0.08% (the limit in the UK and Ireland) face a fine of €135; over 0.08% and it could cost you €4500 (or a maximum of two years in jail). Licences can also be immediately suspended. If you cause an accident while driving under the influence, the fine could be increased to €30,000. And if you cause serious bodily harm or commit involuntary manslaughter, you face 10 years in jail and a fine of up to €150,000.

The Police

Thanks to the Napoleonic Code on which the French legal system is based, the police can search anyone they want to at any time – whether or not there is probable cause.

France has two separate police forces. The Police Nationale, under the command of departmental prefects (and, in Paris, the Préfet de Police), includes the Police de l’Air et des Frontières (PAF; the border police). The Gendarmerie Nationale, a paramilitary force under the control of the Ministry of Defence, handles airports, borders and so on. During times of crisis (eg a wave of terrorist attacks), the army may be called in to patrol public places.

The dreaded Compagnies Républicaines de Sécurité (CRS) – riot-police heavies to be avoided at all costs – are part of the Police Nationale. You often see hundreds of them, each bigger and butcher than the next and armed with the latest riot gear, at marches or demonstrations. Police with shoulder patches reading ‘Police Municipale’ are under the control of the local mayor.

The American concept of neighbourhood cops walking their beat or the British bobby giving directions does not exist whatsoever in France; police here are to maintain order, not mingle and smile. If asked a direct question, a French policeman or policewoman will be correct and helpful but not much more; assisting tourists is not part of their job description. If the police stop you for any reason, be polite and remain calm. They have wide powers of search and seizure and, if they take a dislike to you, they may choose to use them all. Be aware that the police can, without any particular reason, decide to examine your passport, visa, carte de séjour (residence permit) and so on. Do not challenge them.

French police are very strict about security. Do not leave baggage unattended; they are quite serious when they say that suspicious objects will be summarily blown up. Your bags will be inspected and you will have to pass through security gates not only at airports but also at many public buildings (including certain museums and galleries) throughout the city. If asked to open your bag or backpack for inspection, please do so willingly – it’s for your (and our) safety ultimately.

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MAPS

The most ubiquitous (and user-friendly) pocket-sized street atlas available is L’Indispensable’s Paris Practique par Arrondissement (€4.90), though the similar Paris Utile (€4.50) from Blay Foldex has its supporters. More detailed is Michelin’s Paris Poche Plan (No 50; €2.20). All of these are usually available from newsstands and the Espace IGN Click here.

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MEDICAL SERVICES

If you are not an EU citizen, it is imperative that you take out travel insurance before your departure. EU passport holders have access to the French social security system, which reimburses up to 70% of medical costs.

Hospitals

There are some 50 assistance publique (public health service) hospitals in Paris. If you need an ambulance, call 15; the EU-wide emergency number (with English speakers) is 112. For emergency treatment, call Urgences Médicales de Paris ( 01 53 94 94 94) or SOS Médecins ( 01 47 07 77 77 or 0 820 332 424). Both offer 24-hour house calls costing between €35 and €90 depending on the time of day and whether you have French social security.

Hospitals in Paris include the following:

 
  • American Hospital in Paris (off Map; 01 46 41 25 25; www.american-hospital.org; 63 blvd Victor Hugo, 92200 Neuilly-sur-Seine; Pont de Levallois Bécon) Private hospital offering emergency 24-hour medical and dental care.
  • Hertford British Hospital (off Map; 01 46 39 22 22; www.british-hospital.org; 3 rue Barbès, 92300 Levallois-Perret; Anatole France) A less-expensive private English-speaking option than the American Hospital.
  • Hôpital Hôtel Dieu (Map; 01 42 34 82 34; www.aphp.fr, in French; 1 place du Parvis Notre Dame, 4e; Cité) One of the city’s main government-run public hospitals (Assistance Publique Hôpitaux de Paris); after 8pm use the emergency entrance on rue de la Cité.

Dental Clinics

For emergency dental care contact either of the following:

 
  • Hôpital de la Pitié-Salpêtrière (Map; 01 42 16 00 00; rue Bruant, 13e; Chevaleret) The only dental hospital with extended hours – from 6am to 10.30pm. After 5.30pm use the emergency entrance at 83 blvd de l’Hôpital, 13e (metro St-Marcel).
  • SOS Dentaire (Map; 01 43 37 51 00; 87 blvd de Port Royal, 13e; Port Royal) A private dental office that offers services when most dentists are off-duty (8pm to 11pm weekdays, 9.45am to 11pm weekends).

Pharmacies

Pharmacies with extended hours:

 
  • Pharmacie Bader (Map; 01 43 26 92 66; 12 blvd St-Michel, 5e; 9am-9pm; St-Michel)
  • Pharmacie de La Mairie (Map; 01 42 78 53 58; 9 rue des Archives, 4e; 9am-8pm; Hôtel de Ville)
  • Pharmacie des Champs (Map; 01 45 62 02 41; Galerie des Champs, 84 av des Champs-Élysées, 8e; 24hr; George V)
  • Pharmacie des Halles (Map; 01 42 72 03 23; 10 blvd de Sébastopol, 4e; 9am-midnight Mon-Sat, 9am-10pm Sun; Châtelet)
  • Pharmacie Européenne (Map; 01 48 74 65 18; 6 place de Clichy, 17e; 24hr; Place de Clichy)

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MONEY

France is among the 15 member-states of the EU (Austria, Belgium, Cyprus, Finland, Germany, Greece, Ireland, Italy, Luxembourg, Malta, the Netherlands, Portugal, Slovenia and Spain) that have adopted the euro (abbreviated € and pronounced eu-roh in French) as its national currency. One euro is divided into 100 cents (centimes in French). There are seven euro notes in different colours and sizes; they come in denominations of €5, €10, €20, €50, €100, €200 and €500. The designs on the recto (generic windows or portals) and verso (imaginary bridges, map of the EU) are exactly the same in all 15 countries and symbolise openness and cooperation.

The eight coins in circulation are in denominations of €1 and €2, then one, two, five, 10, 20 and 50 cents. The ‘head’ side of the coin, on which the denomination is shown, is identical throughout the euro zone; the ‘tail’ side is specific to each member-state, though euro coins can be used anywhere that accepts euros, of course. In France the €1 (silver centre with brassy ring) and €2 (brassy centre with silver ring) coins portray the tree of liberty; the 10, 20 and 50 cent coins (all brass) have la Semeuse (the Sower), a recurring theme in the history of the French franc; and the one, two and five cent coins (all copper) portray Marianne, the symbol of the French Republic.

Exchange rates are given in the Quick Reference section on the inside front cover of this book. The latest rates are available on websites such as www.oanda.com and www.xe.com. For a broader view of the local economy and costs in Paris, Click here.

ATMs

You’ll find an ATM, which here is known as as a DAB (distributeur automatique de billets) or point d’argent, linked to the Cirrus, Maestro, Visa or MasterCard networks, virtually on every corner. Those without a local bank account should know that there is usually a transaction surcharge of around €3 for cash withdrawals. You should contact your bank to find out how much this is before using ATMs too freely.

Changing Money

In general, cash is not a very good way to carry money. Not only can it be stolen, but in France it doesn’t usually offer the best exchange rates. What’s more, in recent years ATMs and the euro have virtually wiped out bureaux de change and even centrally located banks rarely offer exchange services these days.

That said, some banks, post offices and bureaux de change pay up to 2.5% or more for travellers cheques, more than making up for the 1% commission usually charged when buying the cheques in the first place.

Post offices that have a Banque Postale can offer the best exchange rates, and they accept banknotes (commission €4.50) in various currencies as well as travellers cheques issued by Amex (no commission) or Visa (1.5%, minimum €4.50).

Commercial banks usually charge a similar amount per foreign-currency transaction. For example BNP Paribas charges €5.95 for cash while Société Générale takes €5.40 (or €11.40 if you don’t bank with them). The rates charged on travellers cheques vary but neither BNP Paribas or Société Générale charge a fee to change travellers cheques in euros.

In Paris, bureaux de change are usually faster and easier, open longer hours and give better rates than most banks. It’s best to familiarise yourself with the rates offered by the post office and compare them with those on offer at bureaux de change, which are not generally allowed to charge commissions. Bureaux de change charge anything between 6% and 13% plus €3 or €4 on cash transactions and 6% to just under 10% (plus €3) to change travellers cheques.

Among some of the better bureaux de change:

 
  • American Express Bureau de Change (Map; 01 47 77 79 50; 11 rue Scribe, 9e; 9am-6.30pm Mon-Sat; Auber or Opéra)
  • Best Change (Map; 01 42 21 46 05; 21 rue du Roule, 1er; 9.30am-7pm Mon-Sat; Louvre Rivoli) Three blocks southwest of Forum des Halles.
  • CCO (Map; 01 42 66 24 44; 12 blvd de Capucines, 9e; 9am-5.30pm Mon-Fri, 9.30am-4pm Sat; Opéra); Opéra branch (Map; 01 47 42 20 96; 9 rue Scribe, 9e; 9am-5.30pm Mon-Fri, 9.30am-4pm Sat; Opéra) European Exchange Office (Map; 01 42 52 67 19; 6 rue Yvonne Le Tac, 18e; 10am-noon & 2-6pm Mon-Sat; Abbesses) A few steps from the Abbesses metro station.
  • Le Change du Louvre (Map; 01 42 97 27 28; 151 rue St-Honoré, 1er; 10am-6pm Mon-Fri; Palais Royal-Musée du Louvre) This moneychanger is on the northern side of Le Louvre des Antiquaires.
  • Multi Change (Map; 01 42 22 45 00; 180 blvd St-Germain, 6e; 9am-6.30pm Mon-Sat; St-Germain des Prés) Just west of Église St-Germain des Prés.
  • Société Touristique de Services (Map; 01 43 54 76 55; 2 place St-Michel, 6e; 9am-8pm Mon-Fri, 10am-8pm Sat; St-Michel) A bureau de change in the heart of the Latin Quarter.

Credit Cards

In Paris, Visa/Carte Bleue is the most widely accepted credit card, followed by MasterCard (Eurocard). Amex cards can be useful at more upmarket establishments. In general, all three cards can be used for train travel, restaurant meals and cash advances.

When you get a cash advance on your Visa or MasterCard account, your issuer charges a transaction fee, which can be high; check with your card issuer before leaving home. Some banks charge a commission of 4% (minimum around €6) for a cash advance though BNP Parisbas does it for free (though the card-holder’s issuing bank will probably do so) to a maximum of €1000. American Express takes a 5% commission on cash advances on Visa cards.

Call the following numbers if your card is lost or stolen. It may be impossible to get a lost Visa or MasterCard reissued until you get home so two different credit cards are generally safer than just one.

 
  • Amex ( 01 47 77 72 00, 01 71 23 08 38)
  • Diners Club ( 0 820 82 05 36, 0 800 22 20 73)
  • MasterCard/Eurocard ( 0 800 90 13 87, 01 45 67 84 84)
  • Visa/Carte Bleue ( 0 892 70 57 05, 0 800 90 20 33)

Travellers Cheques

The most flexible travellers cheques are issued by American Express (in US dollars or euros) and Visa, as they can be changed at many post offices.

Amex offices charges a commission on all travellers cheques of about 4% (minimum €2). If your Amex travellers cheques are lost or stolen while you are in Paris, call 0 800 83 28 20 (24-hour, toll-free). Reimbursements can be made at the main American Express office (Map; 01 47 77 79 50; www.americanexpress.fr, in French; 11 rue Scribe, 9e; 9am-5.30pm Mon-Sat; Auber or Opéra).

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NEWSPAPERS & MAGAZINES

Among English-language newspapers widely available in Paris are the International Herald Tribune (€2.50), which is edited in Paris and has very good coverage of both French and international news; the Guardian and the more compact Guardian Weekly; the Financial Times; the Times of London; and the colourful (if lightweight) USA Today. English-language news weeklies that are widely available include Newsweek, Time and the Economist. For information about the French-language press, Click here.

The Paris-based Fusac (France USA Contacts), a freebie issued every two weeks, consists of hundreds of ads placed by companies and individuals. To place one yourself, contact Fusac (Map; 01 56 53 54 54; www.fusac.fr; 26 rue Bénard, 14e; 10am-7pm Mon-Fri; Alésia or Pernety),still going strong after two decades. It is distributed free at Paris’ English-language bookshops, Anglophone embassies and the American Church (Map; 01 40 62 05 00; www.acparis.org; 65 quai d’Orsay, 7e; reception 9am-noon & 1-10pm Mon-Sat, 2-7.30pm Sun; Pont de l’Alma or Invalides), which functions as a kind of community centre for English speakers and is an excellent source of information on au pair work, short-term accommodation etc. The free Paris Times (www.theparistimes.com), published monthly, is also worth a look. See the website for a full list of distribution points.

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ORGANISED TOURS

If you can’t be bothered making your own way around Paris or don’t have the time, consider a tour by air, bus, boat, bicycle or on foot. There’s no reason to feel sheepish or embarrassed about taking a guided tour. They are an excellent way to learn the contours of a new city, and even experienced guidebook writers have been known to join them from time to time. Most useful are the buses and other conveyances that allow you to disembark when and where you want and board the next one that suits you. They usually offer little or no commentary aside from calling out the stop names but offer the most freedom to do what you want.

True couch potatoes will head for Paris Story (Map; 01 42 66 62 06; www.paris-story.com; 11bis rue Scribe, 9e; adult/student & 6-17yr/family €10/6/26, under 6 yr free; 10am-6pm; Auber or Opéra), which includes a 50-minute audiovisual romp through Paris’ 2000-year history on the hour, with headset commentary in 14 languages; an interactive model of Paris called Paris Miniature; and Paris Experience, a gallery of five themed video clips.

Air

Hot-air balloon Ballon Eutelsat (Map; 01 44 26 20 00; www.aeroparis.com, in French; Parc André Citroën, 2 rue de la Montagne de la Fage, 15e; Mon-Fri adult/3-11 yr/12-17yr €10/5/9, Sat & Sun €12/6/10, under 3yr free; 9am-5.30pm to 9.30pm (seasonal); Balard), in the Parc André Citroën in southwestern Paris, lifts you 150m off the ground and offers fabulous views of Paris and the Seine. But don’t expect to get very far; the helium-filled balloon remains firmly tethered to the ground. Be sure to call in advance as the balloon does not ascend in windy conditions.

A company called iXAir (Map; 01 30 08 80 80; www.ixair.com, in French; 4 av de la Porte de Sèvres, 15e; Porte de Sèvres) at the Héliport de Paris next to the Aquaboulevard in the 15e offers circuits by helicopter over the city lasting between 25 and 45 minutes for €128 to €195. You should book 10 to 15 days ahead.

Bicycle

Fat Tire Bike Tours (Map; 01 56 58 10 54; www.fattirebiketoursparis.com; 24 rue Edgar Faure, 15e; office 9am-6pm; La Motte-Picquet Grenelle) offers daytime bike tours of the city (adult/student €24/22; four hours), starting at 11am daily from mid-February to early January, with an additional departure at 3pm from April to October. Night bicycle tours (adult/student €28/26) depart at 7pm on Sunday, Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday from mid-February to mid-March and in November and at the same time daily from mid-March to October. A day and night combination tour costs €48 for adults and €44 for students.

Participants can meet at the Fat Tire Bike Tours office, where you can store bags, log on to the internet and get tourist information, but tours actually depart from opposite the Eiffel Tower’s South Pillar at the start of the Champ de Mars; just look for the yellow signs. Costs include the bicycle and, if necessary, rain gear.

The same company runs City Segway Tours (www.citysegwaytours.com) which, though not on bicycles, involve two-wheeled, electric-powered conveyances. Segway tours (€70), which follow an abbreviated route of the bike tours and last four hours, depart at 9.30am from mid-February to early January, with an extra tour at 6.30pm from April to October. You must book these tours in advance.

Bike tours lasting three hours from cycle shop Gepetto & Vélos (Map; 01 43 54 19 95; www.gepetto-et-velos.com, in French; 59 rue du Cardinal Lemoine, 5e; tours €25; 9am-1pm & 2-7.30pm Tue-Sat, 10am-1pm & 2-7pm Sun; Cardinal Lemoine) include guide, bicycle and insurance. There is also a branch in the Latin Quarter (Map; 01 43 37 16 17; 46 rue Daubenton, 5e; 9am-1pm & 2-7.30pm Tue-Sat; Censier Daubenton).

RATP-sponsored Maison Roue Libre (Map; 0 810 44 15 34; www.rouelibre.fr; Forum des Halles, 1 passage Mondétour, 1er; adult/under 26 yr €27/20, with own bike €17; 9am-7pm Feb-Oct, 10am-6pm Wed-Sun Nov & Jan; Les Halles) has as many as 15 different themed bike tours from 12km to 26km lasting from three to eight hours. Tours operate on certain weekend days throughout the year starting at 10am, 2pm or 8pm. Consult the website for exact details. The Bastille branch (Map; 0 810 44 15 34; 37 blvd Bourdon, 4e; Bastille) keeps the same hours but shuts Wednesday and Thursday in winter.

Paris à Vélo, C’est Sympa! (Map; 01 48 87 60 01; www.parisvelosympa.com, in French; 22 rue Alphonse Baudin, 11e; 9.30am-1pm & 2-6pm Mon-Fri, 9am-1pm & 2-7pm Sat & Sun Apr-Oct, 9.30am-1pm & 2-5.30pm Mon-Fri, 9am-1pm & 2-6pm Sat & Sun Nov-Mar; St-Sébastien Froissart) This association with the cringey name (Paris by Bike is Nice!) has five different three-hour bike tours available for €34/28/18 for adult/12 to 25 years/under-12 years. Prices include bicycle and insurance.

Boat

Be it on what Parisians call la ligne de vie de Paris (the lifeline of Paris or the Seine) or the rejuvenated canals to the northeast, a boat cruise is the most relaxing way to watch the city glide by.

CANAL CRUISES

Canauxrama (Map & Map; 01 42 39 15 00; www.canauxrama.com, in French; Bassin de la Villette, 13 quai de la Loire, 19e; Mon-Fri adult/6-12yr/student & senior €15/8/11, under 6yr free, admission afternoon Sat & Sun €15; Mar-Nov; Jaurès) has barges that run from Port de Plaisance de Paris-Arsenal, 12e, opposite 50 blvd de la Bastille, to Parc de la Villette, 19e, along charming Canal St-Martin and Canal de l’Ourcq. Departures are at 9.45am and 2.30pm from Port de Plaisance de Paris-Arsenal during the season and, in summer only, at 9.45am and 2.45pm from Bassin de la Villette. The cruise last 2½ hours.

Paris Canal Croisières (Map; 01 42 40 96 97; www.pariscanal.com; Bassin de la Villette, 19-21 quai de la Loire, 19e; adult/4-11yr/senior & 12-25yr €17/10/14, under 4yr free; late Mar–mid-Nov; Jaurès or Musée d’Orsay) has 2½-hour cruises from quai Anatole France (7e), northwest of Musée d’Orsay, at 9.30am and departing from Parc de la Villette for the return trip at 2.30pm.

RIVER CRUISES

On the Right Bank just east of Pont de l’Alma, Bateaux-Mouches (Map; 01 42 25 9610; www.bateauxmouches.com, in French; Port de la Conférence, 8e; adult/senior & 4-12yr €9/4, under 4 yr free; mid-Mar–mid-Nov; Alma Marceau), the most famous river-boat company in Paris, runs nine 1000-seat glassed-in tour boats, still the largest on the Seine. Cruises (70 minutes) depart eight times a day between 10.15am and 3.15pm and then every 20 minutes till 11pm April to September and 10 times a day between 10.15am and 9pm the rest of the year. Commentary in French and English.

From its base northwest of the Eiffel Tower, Bateaux Parisiens (Map; 0 825 01 01 01; www.bateauxparisiens.com; Port de la Bourdonnais, 7e; adult/3-11yr €10.50/5, under 3yr free; every half hr 10am-10.30pm Apr-Sep, hourly 10am-10pm Oct-Mar; Pont de l’Alma) runs one-hour river circuits with recorded commentary in 13 different languages.

La Marina de Paris (Map; 01 43 43 40 30; www.marinadeparis.com; port de Solferino, quai Anatole France, 7e; Musée d’Orsay) offers lunch cruises at 12.15pm (€51) and dinner cruises at 6.30pm (€45 and €59) and 9pm (€79). They last about 2¼ hours and a menu for those under 12 (€39) is available at all meals.

Vedettes du Pont Neuf (Map; 01 46 33 98 38; www.pontneuf.net; square du Vert Galant, 1er; adult/4-12yr €11/6; every half hr 10.30am-noon, 1.30-8pm & 9-10.30pm mid-Mar-Oct; Pont Neuf), whose home dock is at the far western tip of the Île de la Cité (1er), has one-hour boat excursions year-round. From November to mid-March there are 13 departures from 10.30am to 10pm Monday to Thursday and 15 departures until 10.30pm Friday to Sunday.

Bus

In season, RATP Balabus ( 3246; www.ratp.fr; €1.40 or 1 metro/bus ticket; departures 12.30-8pm from La Défense, 1.30pm from Gare de Lyon Sun Apr-Sep), designed for tourists, follows a 50-minute route to/from Gare de Lyon (Map) and La Défense (Map), passing many of central Paris’ most famous sights.

Located just opposite the western end of the Louvre, Cityrama (Map; 01 44 55 60 00; www.pariscityrama.com; 2 rue des Pyramides, 1er; adult/4-11yr €18/9; tours 10am, 11.30am & 2.30pm; Tuileries) runs 1½-hour tours of the city, accompanied by taped commentaries in 16 languages, three times a day year-round.

L’Open Tour (Map; 01 42 66 56 56; www.pariscityrama.com; 13 rue Auber, 9e; 1 day adult/4-11yr €26/13, 2 consecutive days €29/13; Havre Caumartin or Opéra), now part of the same group, runs open-deck buses along four circuits (central Paris, 2¼ hours; Montmartre-Grands Boulevards, 1¼ hours; Bastille-Bercy, one hour; and Montparnasse-St-Germain, one hour) daily year-round. You can jump on and off at more than 50 stops. On the ‘Grand Tour’ of central Paris, with some 20 stops on both sides of the river between Notre Dame and the Eiffel Tower, buses depart every 10 to 15 minutes from 9.30am to 7pm April to October and every 25 to 30 minutes from 9.45am to 6pm November to March. Holders of the Paris Visite card Click here pay €22 for a one-day pass.

Walking

If your French is up to it, the sky’s the limit on specialised and themed walking tours available in Paris. Both Pariscope and Officiel des Spectacles Click here list a number of themed walks (usually €10) each week under the heading ‘Conférences’ or ‘Visites Conférences’. They are almost always informative and entertaining, particularly those run by Paris Passé, Présent ( 01 42 58 95 99; http://parispassepresent.free.fr) and Écoute du Passé ( 01 42 82 11 81, 06 83 89 18 25).

Long-established and highly rated by readers, Paris Walks ( 01 48 09 21 40; www.paris-walks.com; adult/under 15yr/student under 21 from €10/5/8) has tours in English of several different districts, including Montmartre at 10.30am on Sunday and Wednesday (leaving from metro Abbesses, Map) and the Marais at 10.30am on Tuesday and 2.30pm on Sunday (departing from metro St-Paul, Map). There are other tours focusing on people and themes, eg Hemingway, medieval Latin Quarter, fashion, the French Revolution and – yum-yum – chocolate.

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PHOTOGRAPHY

Kodak and Fuji colour-print film is available in supermarkets, photo shops and certain Fnac stores, but it is relatively expensive compared with a lot of other countries so it might pay to stock up before you leave home. Developing a 24-exposure film costs around €13 but can be almost twice that if you want your photos in a hurry. Printing 50 digitals (10cm x 13cm) costs between €9.50 and €12 plus €2 for developing.

It’s getting increasingly difficult to find express photo labs in Paris. One place with labs for both traditional and digital work and highly recommended by professionals is Négatif+ (Map; 01 45 23 41 60; www.negatifplus.com, in French; 104-106 rue La Fayette, 10e; 8am-7.30pm Mon-Fri, 10am-1pm & 2-7.30pm Sat; Poissonière).

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PLACES OF WORSHIP

The following places offer services in English. For a more comprehensive list of churches and other places of worship, check the Pages Jaunes (Yellow Pages; www.pagesjaunes.fr). or the website of the tourist office (http://en.parisinfo.com/guide-paris/worship).

 
  • Adath Shalom Synagogue (Map; 01 45 67 97 96; www.adathshalom.org, in French; 8 rue George Bernard Shaw, 15e; Dupleix) Conservative Jewish.
  • American Cathedral in Paris (Map; 01 53 23 84 00; www.americancathedral.org; 23 av George V, 8e; Alma Marceau) Protestant.
  • American Church in Paris (Map; 01 40 62 05 00; www.acparis.org; 65 quai d’Orsay, 7e; Invalides) Nondenominational Protestant.
  • Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints (Map; 01 42 45 29 29; 64-66 rue de Romainville, 19e; Porte des Lilas) Mormon.
  • First Church of Christ Scientist (Map; 01 47 07 26 60; 36 blvd St-Jacques, 14e; St-Jacques) Christian Scientist.
  • Mosquée de Paris (Map; 01 45 35 97 33; www.mosquee-de-paris.org, in French; 2bis place du Puits de l’Ermite, 5e; Censier Daubenton or Place Monge) Muslim.
  • St Joseph’s Catholic Church (Map; 01 42 27 28 56; www.stjoeparis.org; 50 av Hoche, 8e; Charles de Gaulle-Étoile) Roman Catholic.
  • Sri Manikar Vinayakar Temple (Map; 01 40 34 21 89; 72 rue Philippe de Girard, 18e; Marx Dormoy) Hindu.

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POST

Most post offices (bureaux de poste) in Paris are open from 8am to 7pm weekdays and 8am or 9am till noon on Saturday. Tabacs (tobacconists) usually sell postage stamps.

The main post office (Map; www.laposte.fr, in French; 52 rue du Louvre, 1er; 24hr; Sentier or Les Halles), five blocks north of the eastern end of the Musée du Louvre, is open round the clock, but only for basic services such as sending letters and picking up poste restante mail (window 11; €0.54 per letter). Other services, including currency exchange, are available only during regular opening hours. Be prepared for long queues after 7pm and at the weekend. Poste restante mail not specifically addressed to a particular branch post office will be delivered here. There is a one-hour closure from 6.20am to 7.20am Monday to Saturday and from 6am to 7am on Sunday.

Each arrondissement has its own five-digit postcode, formed by prefixing the number of the arrondissement with ‘750’ or ‘7500’ (eg 75001 for the 1er arrondissement, 75019 for the 19e). The only exception is the 16e, which has two postcodes: 75016 and 75116. All mail to addresses in France must include the postcode. Cedex (Courrier d’Entreprise à Distribution Exceptionelle) simply means that mail sent to that address is collected at the post office rather than delivered to the door.

Domestic letters weighing up to 20/50g cost €0.55/0.88. Postcards and letters up to 20/50g sent within the EU cost €0.65/1.25 and €0.85/1.70 to the rest of the world.

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RADIO

You can pick up a mixture of the BBC World Service and BBC for Europe in Paris on 648 kHz AM. The Voice of America (VOA) is on 1197 kHz AM and 96.9 MHz FM. You can pick up an hour of Radio France Internationale (RFI) news in English three times a day (7am, 2.30pm and 4.30pm) on 738 kHz AM.

Pocket-sized short-wave radios and the internet make it easy to keep abreast of world news in English wherever you are. The BBC World Service can be heard on 6195 kHz, 9410 kHz and 12095 kHz (a good daytime frequency), depending on the time of day. BBC Radio 4 broadcasts on 198 kHz LW, and carries BBC World Service programming in the wee hours of the morning. The VOA broadcasts in English at various times of the day on 7170 kHz, 9535 kHz, 9760 kHz, 9770 kHz, 11805 kHz, 15205 kHz and 15255 kHz.

The following are some of the more popular French-language radio stations:

 

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RELOCATING

If you’re considering moving to Paris and you are not a citizen of the EU you must have both a carte de séjour (residence permit; Click here) and an autorisation de travail (work permit; Click here). Neither is easy to come by.

For practical information on living and working in employment in Paris and France, pick up a copy of Live and Work in France by Victoria Pybus, now in its 5th edition, or Living and Working in France: A Survival Handbook by David Hampshire.

The fortnightly Fusac Click here is an excellent source for job-seekers.

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SAFETY

In general, Paris is a safe city and random street assaults are rare. The so-called Ville Lumière (City of Light) is generally well lit, and there’s no reason not to use the metro until it stops running at some time between 12.30am and just past 1am. As you’ll notice, women do travel alone on the metro late at night in most areas, though not all who do so report feeling 100% comfortable.

Metro stations that are best avoided late at night include Châtelet-Les Halles and its seemingly endless corridors, Château Rouge in Montmartre, Gare du Nord, Strasbourg St-Denis, Réaumur Sébastopol, and Montparnasse Bienvenüe. Bornes d’alarme (alarm boxes) are located in the centre of each metro/RER platform and in some station corridors.

Nonviolent crime such as pickpocketing and thefts from handbags and packs is a problem wherever there are crowds, especially packs of tourists. Places to be particularly careful include Montmartre (especially around Sacré Cœur); Pigalle; the areas around Forum des Halles and the Centre Pompidou; the Latin Quarter (especially the rectangle bounded by rue St-Jacques, blvd St-Germain, blvd St-Michel and quai St-Michel); below the Eiffel Tower; and anywhere on the metro during rush hour. Take the usual precautions: don’t carry more money than you need, and keep your credit cards, passport and other documents in a concealed pouch, a hotel safe or a safe-deposit box.

Vigipirate is a security plan devised by the Paris city council to combat terrorism. Both citizens and visitors are asked to report any abandoned luggage or package at all times. When the full Vigipirate scheme is put into action, public litter bins are sealed, left-luggage services in train stations and at airports are unavailable, checks at the entrances to public buildings and tourist sites are increased, and cloakrooms and lockers in museums and at monuments are closed.

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TAXES & REFUNDS

France’s value-added tax (VAT) is known as TVA (taxe sur la valeur ajoutée) and is 19.6% on most goods except medicine and books, for which it’s 5.5%. Prices that include TVA are often marked TTC (toutes taxes comprises; literally ‘all taxes included’).

If you’re not an EU resident, you can get a TVA refund provided that: you’re aged over 15; you’ll be spending less than six months in France; you purchase goods worth at least €175 at a single shop on the same day (not more than 10 of the same item); the goods fit into your luggage; you are taking the goods out of France within three months after purchase; and the shop offers vente en détaxe (duty-free sales).

Present a passport at the time of purchase and ask for a bordereau de vente à l’exportation (export sales invoice) to be signed by the retailer and yourself. Most shops will refund less than the full amount (about 14%) to which you are entitled, in order to cover the time and expense involved in the refund procedure.

As you leave France or another EU country, have all three pages of the bordereau validated by the country’s customs officials at the airport or at the border. Customs officials will take one sheet and hand you two. You must post one copy (the pink one) back to the shop and retain the other (green) sheet for your records in case there is any dispute. Once the shop where you made your purchase receives its stamped copy, it will send you a virement (fund transfer) in the form you have requested. Be prepared for a wait of up to three months.

If you’re flying out of Orly or Roissy Charles de Gaulle, certain shops can arrange for you to receive your refund as you’re leaving the country though you must complete the steps outlined preceding. You must make such arrangements at the time of purchase.

For more information contact the customs information centre ( 0 820 02 44 44; www.douane.minefi.gouv.fr; 8.30am-6pm Mon-Fri).

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TELEPHONE

There are no area codes in France – you always dial the 10-digit number. Telephone numbers in Paris always start with 01. Mobile phones through France commence with 06.

Once the domain of France Télécom, the domestic service des renseignements (directory enquiries or assistance) is now offered by over a dozen operators on six-digit numbers starting with 118 (France Télécom, for example, uses 118 710, 118 711, 118 712 and 118 810). For a complete listing in French consult www.allo118.com.

Note that while numbers beginning with 0 800, 0 804, 0 805 and 0 809 are toll-free in France, other numbers beginning with ‘8’ are not. A number starting with 0 810 or 0 811 is charged at local rates (€0.078 then €0.028) while one beginning with 0 820 and 0 821 cost €0.12 per minute, or even €0.15 if the prefix numbers are 0 890. The ubiquitous 0 892 numbers are billed at an expensive €0.34 per minute whenever you call. 0 899 numbers cost €1.35 per connection then €0.34 per minute, Numbers beginning with 0 897 cost a flat €0.562 per call.

Most four-digit numbers starting with 10, 30 or 31 are also free of charge.

France’s country code is 33. To call a number in Paris from outside France, dial your country’s international access code (usually 00 but exceptions include 011 from the USA and 001 from Hong Kong), then 33 and then the local number, omitting the first ‘0’.

To call abroad from Paris, dial France’s international access code ( 00), the country code (see right), the area code (usually without the initial ‘0’, if there is one) and the local number. International Direct Dial (IDD) calls to almost anywhere in the world can be placed from public telephones. The international reduced rate applies from 7pm to 8am weekdays and all day at the weekend.

For international directory enquiries, dial 3212. Note that the cost for this service is €3 per call. Instead consult the phone book on the internet (www.pagejaunes.fr).

Mobile Phones

France uses the GSM 900 network, which is compatible with the rest of Europe, Australia and New Zealand but not with the North American GSM 1900 (though many North Americans now have GSM 1900/900 phones that do work in France) or the totally different system in Japan. If you have a GSM phone, check with your service provider about using it in France, and beware of calls being routed internationally, which can make a ‘local’ call very expensive indeed.

It’s usually most convenient to buy a local SIM card from one of the major providers such as Orange/France Telecom ( 0 800 83 08 00 or +33 1 41 43 79 40 outside France; www.orange.fr, in French) has a €59 package that includes a Sony Ericson MP3 mobile phone, a local phone number and €5 of call time.

For more time, you can buy a prepaid Mobicarte recharge card (€5 to €100) from tabacs (tobacconist) and other places you’d buy a télécarte (phonecard); Mobicartes from €25 upward offer extra talk time (€5 bonus for €25, €10 bonus for €35, up to €50 extra for €100). If you don’t mind changing your telephone number to a French one during your stay, you can also buy a local SIM card for your mobile (provided it’s not blocked) for €20 (plus 10 minutes’ talk time) and recharge with Mobicartes as you go along. The biggest outlet is La Boutique Orange (Map; 16 place de la Madeleine, 8e; 10am-7pm Mon-Sat; Madeleine).

Phonecards

All public phones can receive both domestic and international calls. If you want someone to call you back, just give them France’s country code and the 10-digit number, usually written after the words ‘Ici le…’ or ‘No d’appel’ on the tariff sheet or on a little sign inside the phone box. Remind them to drop the ‘0’ of the initial ‘01’ of the number. When there’s an incoming call, the words ‘décrochez – appel arrive’ (pick up receiver – incoming call) will appear in the LCD window.

Public telephones in Paris usually require a télécarte (phonecard; €7.50/15 for 50/120 calling units), which can be purchased at post offices, tabacs, supermarkets, SNCF ticket windows, metro stations and anywhere you see a blue sticker reading ‘télécarte en vente ici’ (phonecard for sale here).

You can buy prepaid phonecards in France such as Allomundo (www.allomundo.com, in French) that are up to 60% cheaper for calling abroad than the standard télécarte. They’re usually available in denominations of up to €15 from tabacs, newsagents, phone shops and other sales points, especially in ethnic areas such as rue du Faubourg St-Denis (10e), Chinatown (13e) and Belleville (19e and 20e). In general they’re valid for two months but the ones offering the most minutes for the least euros can expire in just a week.

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TIME

France uses the 24-hour clock in most case, with the hours usually separated from the minutes by a lower-case ‘h’. Thus, 15h30 is 3.30pm, 00h30 is 12.30am and so on.

France is on Central European Time, which is one hour ahead of (ie later than) GMT. During daylight-saving time, which runs from the last Sunday in March to the last Sunday in October, France is two hours ahead of GMT.

Without taking daylight-saving time into account, when it’s noon in Paris it’s 11pm in Auckland, 11am in London, 6am in New York, 3am in San Francisco and 9pm in Sydney.

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TIPPING

French law requires that restaurant, café and hotel bills include a service charge (usually between 12% and 15%); for more information on tipping at restaurants and cafés, Click here. Taxi drivers expect small tips of between 5% and 10% of the fare though the usual procedure is to round up to the nearest €1 regardless of the fare.

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TOILETS

Public toilets in Paris are signposted toilettes or WC. The tan-coloured, self-cleaning cylindrical toilets you see on Parisian pavements are open 24 hours and are free of charge. Look for the words libre (‘free’; green-coloured) or occupé (‘occupied’; red-coloured).

Café-owners do not appreciate you using their facilities if you are not a paying customer. When desperate, try a fast-food place, major department store or even a big hotel. There are free public toilets in front of Notre Dame cathedral, near the Arc de Triomphe, east down the steps at Sacré Cœur, at the northwestern entrance to the Jardins des Tuileries and in some metro stations. Check out the wonderful Art Nouveau public toilets, built in 1905, below place de la Madeleine, 8e (Map). In older cafés and bars, you may find a toilette à la turque (Turkish-style toilet), which is what the French call a squat toilet.

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TOURIST INFORMATION

The main branch of the Paris Convention & Visitors Bureau (Office de Tourisme et de Congrès de Paris; Map; 0 892 68 30 00; www.parisinfo.com; 25-27 rue des Pyramides, 1er; 9am-7pm Jun-Oct, 10am-7pm Mon-Sat & 11am-7pm Sun Nov-May, closed May Day; Pyramides) is about 500m northwest of the Louvre.

The bureau also maintains a handful of centres elsewhere in Paris, listed following (telephone numbers and websites are the same as for the main office). For details of the area around Paris, contact Espace du Tourisme d’Île de France, Click here.

 
  • Anvers (Map; opp 72 blvd Rochechouart, 18e; 10am-6pm, closed Christmas Day, New Year’s Day & May Day; Anvers)
  • Gare de Lyon (Map; Hall d’Arrivée, 20 blvd Diderot, 12e; 8am-6pm Mon-Sat, closed May Day) In the arrivals hall for mainline trains.
  • Gare du Nord (Map) 18 rue de Dunkerque, 10e; 8am-6pm, closed Christmas Day, New Year’s Day & May Day; Gare du Nord) Under the glass roof of the Île de France departure and arrival area at the eastern end of the station.
  • Syndicate d’Initiative de Montmartre (Map; 01 42 62 21 21; 21 place du Tertre, 18e; 10am-7pm; Abbesses) This locally run tourist office and shop is in Montmartre’s most picturesque square and open year-round.

Information offices beyond central Paris include those at La Défense and St-Denis:

 
  • Espace Info-Défense (Map; 01 47 74 84 24; www.ladefense.fr; 15 place de la Défense; 9am-5.15pm Mon-Fri; La Défense Grande Arche) La Défense’s tourist office has reams of free information, including the useful Discover La Défense brochure and details on cultural activities.
  • Office de Tourisme de St-Denis Plaine Commune (Map; 01 55 87 08 70; www.saint-denis-tourisme.com, in French; 1 rue de la République; 9.30am-1pm & 2-6pm Mon-Sat, 10am-2pm Sun Oct-Mar, 10am-1pm & 2-4pm Sun Apr-Sep; Basilique de St-Denis) This helpful tourist office is 100m west of the basilica.

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TRAVELLERS WITH DISABILITIES

Paris is an ancient city and is thus not particularly well equipped for les handicapés (disabled people): kerb ramps are few and far between, older public facilities and bottom-end hotels usually lack lifts, and the metro, dating back more than a century, is inaccessible for those in a wheelchair (fauteuil roulant). But efforts are being made and early in the new millennium the tourist office launched its ‘Tourisme & Handicap’ initiative in which museums, cultural attractions, hotels and restaurants that provided access or special assistance or facilities for those with physical, mental, visual and/or hearing disabilities would display a special logo at their entrances. For a list of the places qualifying, visit the tourist office’s website (www.parisinfo.com) and click on ‘Practical Paris’.

Information & Organisations

The SNCF has made many of its train carriages more accessible to people with physical disabilities. A traveller in a wheelchair can travel in both the TGV (train à grande vitesse; high-speed train) and in the 1st-class carriage with a 2nd-class ticket on mainline trains provided they make a reservation by phone or at a train station at least a few hours before departure. Details are available in the SNCF booklet Le Mémento du Voyageur Handicapé (Handicapped Traveller Summary) available at all train stations. For advice on planning your journey from station to station contact the SNCF service Acces Plus ( 0 890 64 06 50; www.accessibilite.sncf.com, in French).

For information on accessibility to all forms of public transport in the Paris region, get a copy of the Guide Practique à l’Usage des Personnes à Mobilité Réduite (Practical Usage Guide for those with Reduced Mobility) from the Syndicat des Transports d’Île de France ( 0 810 64 64 64; www.stif-idf.fr). Its Info Mobi (www.infomobi.com, in French) is especially useful. Also helpful is the RATP’s Assistance Voyageurs à Mobilité Réduite (Assistance for Travellers with Reduced Mobility; 01 53 11 11 12).

For information about what cultural venues in Paris are accessible visit the website of Access Culture (www.accessculture.org).

Access in Paris, a 245-page guide to the French capital for the disabled, was being updated at the time of research and should be available from Access Project (www.accessinparis.org; 39 Bradley Gardens, West Ealing, London W13 8HE, UK) by the time you read this.

The following organisations can provide information to disabled travellers:

 
  • Association des Paralysées de France (APF; 01 40 78 69 00; www.apf.asso.fr, in French; 17 blvd Blanqui, 75013 Paris) Brochures on wheelchair access and accommodation throughout France, including Paris.
  • Groupement pour l’Insertion des Personnes Handicapées Physiques (GIHP; 01 43 95 66 36; www.gihpnational.org, in French; 10 rue Georges de Porto Riche, 75014 Paris) Provides special vehicles outfitted for people in wheelchairs for use within the city.
  • Mobile en Ville ( 06 82 91 72 16; 1 rue de l’Internationale; www.mobile-en-ville.asso.fr, in French; B.P. 59, 91002 Evry) Association set up in 1998 by students and researchers with the aim of making independent travel within the city easier for people in wheelchairs.

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VISAS

There are no entry requirements for nationals of EU countries. Citizens of Australia, the USA, Canada and New Zealand do not need visas to visit France for up to three months. Except for people from a handful of other European countries (including Switzerland), everyone, including citizens of South Africa, needs a so-called Schengen Visa, named after the Schengen Agreement that has abolished passport controls among 22 EU countries and has also been ratified by the non-EU governments of Iceland, Norway and Switzerland. A visa for any of these countries should be valid throughout the Schengen area, but it pays to double check with the embassy or consulate of each country you intend to visit.

Visa fees depend on the current exchange rate but transit and the various types of short-stay (up to 90 days) visas all cost €60, while a long-stay visa allowing stays of more than 90 days costs €99. You will need: your passport (valid for a period of three months beyond the date of your departure from France); a return ticket; proof of sufficient funds to support yourself; proof of prearranged accommodation; a recent passport-sized photo; and the visa fee in cash payable in local currency.

If all the forms are in order, your visa will usually be issued on the spot. You can also apply for a French visa after arriving in Europe – the fee is the same, but you may not have to produce a return ticket. If you enter France overland, your visa may not be checked at the border, but major problems can arise if the authorities discover that you don’t have one later on (for example, at the airport as you leave the country).

Carte de Séjour

If you are issued a long-stay visa valid for six months or longer, you should apply for a carte de séjour (residence permit) within eight days of your arrival in France. Students must apply in person for a carte de séjour at the Centre des Étudiants Étrangers (Foreign Student Centre; Map; 01 53 71 51 68; 13 rue Miollis, 15e; 8.30am-4.30pm Mon-Thu, 8.30am-4pm Fri; Cambronne or Ségur). Arrive early – the queues can be mammoth.

Those holding a passport from one of the original EU member-states and seeking to take up residence in France no longer need to acquire a carte de séjour; their passport or national ID card is sufficient. Citizens of any one of the 10 so-called accession countries that joined the EU in 2004 who wish to stay permanently must for the time being apply to the Service Étranger (Foreigner Service) office on the ground floor next to escalier F (stairway F) in the Préfecture de Police (Map; 01 53 71 51 68; www.prefecture-police-paris.interieur.gouv.fr, in French; 1 place Louis Lépine, 15e 4e; 8.30am-4.50pm Mon-Thu, 8.30am-4.15pm Fri; Cité) for guidance.

Foreigners with non-EU passports must go to one of two offices, depending on the arrondissement in which they’re living or staying. The offices are open from 9am to 4.30pm Monday to Thursday and from 9am to 4pm on Friday. The office that deals with 1er to 10e and 15e to 18e Arrondissements is Hôtel de Police (Map; 01 44 90 37 17; 19-21 rue Truffaut, 17e; Place de Clichy or La Fourche); for 11e to 14e and 19e to 20e Arrondissements go to Hôtel de Police (Map; 01 53 74 14 06; 114-116 av du Maine, 15e 14e; Gaîté).

Long-Stay & Student

If you would like to work, study or stay in France for longer than three months, apply to the French embassy or consulate nearest to you for the appropriate long séjour (long-stay) visa. For details of au pair visas, which must be arranged before you leave home (unless you’re an EU resident), Click here.

Unless you hold an EU passport, it’s extremely difficult to get a visa that will allow you to work in France. For any sort of long-stay visa, begin the paperwork in your home country several months before you plan to leave. Applications cannot usually be made in a third country nor can tourist visas be turned into student visas after you arrive in France. People with student visas can apply for permission to work part-time; enquire at your place of study.

Visa Extensions

Tourist visas cannot be extended except in emergencies (such as medical problems). If you have an urgent problem, you should call the Service Étranger (Foreigner Service) at the Préfecture de Police (see left) for guidance.

If you don’t need a visa to visit France, you’ll almost certainly qualify for another automatic three-month stay if you take the train to, say, Geneva or Brussels and then re-enter France. The fewer recent French entry stamps you have in your passport the easier this is likely to be.

If you needed a visa the first time around, one way to extend your stay is to go to a French consulate in a neighbouring country and apply for another one there.

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WOMEN TRAVELLERS

In 1923 French women obtained the right to – wait for it – open their own mail. The right to vote didn’t come until 1945 during De Gaulle’s short-lived postwar government, and a woman still needed her husband’s permission to open a bank account or get a passport until 1964. It was in such an environment that Simone de Beauvoir wrote Le Deuxième Sexe (The Second Sex) in 1949.

Younger French women especially are quite outspoken and emancipated but self-confidence has yet to translate into equality in the workplace, where women are not infrequently passed over for senior and management positions in favour of their male colleagues. Women attract more unwanted attention than men, but female travellers need not walk around Paris in fear: people are rarely assaulted on the street. However, the French seem to have given relatively little thought to sexual harassment (harcèlement sexuel), and many men still think that to stare suavely at a passing woman is to pay her a compliment.

Information & Organisations

France’s women’s movement flourished as in other countries in the late 1960s and early 1970s, but by the mid-80s had become moribund. For reasons that have more to do with French society than anything else, few women’s groups function as the kind of supportive social institutions that exist in English-speaking countries.

La Maison des Femmes de Paris (Map; 01 43 43 41 13; http://maisondesfemmes.free.fr in French; 163 rue de Charenton, 12e; office 9am-7pm Mon-Fri; Reuilly Diderot) is a meeting place for women of all ages and nationalities, with events, workshops and exhibitions scheduled throughout the week.

France’s national rape-crisis hotline ( 0 800 05 95 95; 10am-7pm Mon-Fri) can be reached toll-free from any telephone, without using a phonecard. It’s run by a group called Collectif Féministe contre le Viol (Feminist Collective Against Rape; CFCV; www.sosviol.com).

In an emergency, you can always call the police ( 17). Medical, psychological and legal services are available to people referred by the police at the Service Médico-Judiciaire ( 01 42 34 86 78; 24hr) of the Hôtel Dieu.

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WORK

Although there are strict laws preventing non-EU nationals from being employed in France, it’s possible to work ‘in the black’ (ie without the legally required documents). Au pair work is popular and can be done legally even by non-EU nationals.

To work legally in France you need a carte de séjour Click here. Getting one is almost impossible if you aren’t a citizen of the EU, unless you are a full-time student. At the same time non-EU nationals cannot work legally unless they obtain an autorisation de travail (work permit) before arriving in France. This is no easy matter, as a prospective employer has to convince the authorities that there is no French person – or other EU national, for that matter – who can do the job being offered to you.

In addition to the fortnightly Fusac Click here, an excellent source for job-seekers, the following agencies might be of some assistance.

Agence Nationale pour l’Emploi (National Employment Agency; ANPE; www.anpe.fr, in French), France’s national employment service, has lists of job openings and branches throughout the city. The ANPE Hôtel de Ville branch (Map; 01 42 71 24 68; 20bis rue Ste-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4e; 9am-5pm Mon-Wed & Fri, 9am-noon Thu; Hôtel de Ville) assists those residing in the 1er, 4e and 12e arrondissements.

Centres d’Information et de Documentation Jeunesse (CIDJ; Youth Information & Documentation Centres; www.cidj.com, in French) offices have information on housing, professional training and educational options, and notice boards with work possibilities. Its Paris headquarters (Map; 01 44 49 12 00, 0 825 090 630; 101 quai Branly, 15e; 10am-6pm Mon-Wed & Fri, 1-6pm Thu, 9.30am-1pm Sat; Champ de Mars-Tour Eiffel) is a short distance southwest of the Eiffel Tower.

Doing Business

If you are going to Paris on business, it’s a good idea to contact one of the main commercial offices or your embassy’s trade office in Paris before you leave home, to establish contacts and make appointments. These include the following:

 

If you are looking to set up a business in France and need a temporary office or secretarial assistance, contact the following:

 
  • Copy-Top (www.copytop.com, in French; 9am-7pm) This chain is useful for photocopying, printing etc and has 28 outlets in central Paris, including a Bastille branch (Map; 01 48 05 80 84; 87 blvd Voltaire, 11e; Voltaire) and a Montparnasse branch (Map; 01 42 22 80 58; 52 blvd du Montparnasse, 15e; Montparnasse Bienvenüe).
  • NewWorks (www.newworks.net, in French; 9am-7pm) This service bureau chain can supply most of your office and secretarial needs and serve as your temporary office too. There are four outlets, including Champs-Élysées branch (Map; 01 72 74 24 54; 10 rue du Colisée, 8e; Franklin D Roosevelt).

Volunteering

Under what’s called the au pair system, single people aged 18 to 27 can live with a French family and receive lodging, full board and some pocket money in exchange for taking care of the kids, babysitting, doing light housework and perhaps teaching English to the children. Most families prefer young women, but some positions are also available for men. Many families want au pairs who are native English-speakers; knowing at least some French may be a prerequisite. For practical information, pick up the recently updated Au Pair and Nanny’s Guide to Working Abroad by Susan Griffith and Sharon Legg and visit the website of the International Au Pair Association (www.iapa.org).

By law, au pairs must have one full day off a week. Some families may provide metro passes. The family must also pay for French social security, which covers about 70% of medical expenses (get supplementary insurance if you are not an EU citizen).

Residents of the EU can easily arrange for an au pair job and a carte de séjour after arriving in France. Non-EU nationals who decide to look for au pair work after entering the country cannot do so legally and won’t be covered by the protections provided for under French law.

Check the bulletin boards at the American Church and the classifieds in Fusac Click here for job ads. In the latter, you’ll find au pair work listed under ‘Childcare’.


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LANGUAGE


    SOCIAL
    PRACTICAL
    FOOD
    EMERGENCIES
    HEALTH


Whatever you may have heard about the French people and their reputation for arrogance when it comes to foreigners on their beat who don’t speak their language, you’ll find any attempt to communicate in French will be much appreciated. What is usually perceived as arrogance is often just a subtle objection to the assumption by many travellers that they should be able to speak English anywhere, in any situation, and be understood. You can easily avoid the problem by approaching people and addressing them in French. Even if the only sentence you can muster is Pardon, madame/monsieur, parlez-vous anglais? (Excuse me, madam/sir, do you speak English?), you’re sure to be more warmly received than if you stick blindly to English.

Be Polite!

Politeness pays dividends in Parisian daily life and the easiest way to make a good impression on Parisian merchants is always to say Bonjour Monsieur/Madame/Mademoiselle when you enter a shop, and Merci Monsieur/Madame/Mademoiselle, au revoir when you leave. Monsieur means ‘sir’ and can be used with any adult male. Madame is used where ‘Mrs’ or ‘Ma’am’ would apply in English. Officially, Mademoiselle (Miss) relates to unmarried women, but it’s much more common to use Madame, unless of course you know the person’s marital status! Similarly, if you want help or need to interrupt someone, approach them with Excusez-moi, Monsieur/Madame/Mademoiselle.

If you want to learn more French than we’ve included here, pick up a copy of Lonely Planet’s comprehensive but user-friendly French Phrasebook.

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SOCIAL

Meeting People

Going Out

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PRACTICAL

Question Words

Days

Banking

Post

Phones & Mobiles

Internet

Transport

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FOOD

Food Glossary

MEAT, CHICKEN & POULTRY

ORDERING A STEAK

FISH & SEAFOOD

VEGETABLES

FRUIT & NUTS

BASICS

DRINKS

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EMERGENCIES

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HEALTH


GLOSSARY
(m) indicates masculine gender, (f) feminine gender, (pl) plural and (adj) adjective
 
  • accueil (m) – reception (eg at a hotel)
  • adjoint (m) – deputy mayor
  • alimentation générale (f) – grocery store
  • ancien régime (m) – ‘old order’; France under the monarchy before the Revolution
  • apéritif (m) – a drink taken before dinner
  • arrondissement (m) – one of 20 administrative divisions in Paris; abbreviated on street signs as 1er (1st arrondissement), 2e or 2ème (2nd) etc
  • auberge (de jeunesse) (f) – (youth) hostel
  • avenue (f) – avenue (abbreviated av)
 
  • banlieues (f pl) – suburbs
  • belle époque (f) – ‘beautiful age’; era of elegance and gaiety characterising fashionable Parisian life roughly from 1870 to 1914
  • bière à la pression (f) – draught/draft beer
  • bière (f) – beer
  • bière blonde (f) – lager
  • billet (m) – ticket
  • billeterie (f) – ticket office or window
  • biologique or bio (adj) – organic
  • boucherie (f) – butcher
  • boulangerie (f) – bakery
  • boules (f pl) – a game played with heavy metal balls on a sandy pitch; also called pétanque
  • brasserie (f) – ‘brewery’; a restaurant that usually serves food all day long
  • brioche (f) – small roll or cake, sometimes made with nuts, currants or candied fruits
  • bureau de change (m) – currency exchange bureau
  • bureau des objets trouvés (m) – lost and found bureau, lost property office
 
  • cacher (adj) – kosher
  • café du quartier (m) – neighbourhood café
  • carnet (m) – a book of (usually) 10 bus, tram, metro or other tickets sold at a reduced rate
  • carrefour (m) – crossroads, intersection
  • carte (f) – card; menu; map
  • carte de séjour (f) – residence permit
  • cave (f) – (wine) cellar
  • chai (m) – wine storehouse
  • chambre (f) – room
  • chambre d’hôte (f) – private room, usually bed and breakfast
  • chanson française (f) – ‘French song’; traditional musical genre where lyrics are paramount
  • chansonnier (m) – cabaret singer
  • charcuterie (f) – a variety of pork products that are cured, smoked or processed, including sausages, hams, pâtés and rillettes; shop selling these products
  • cimetière (m) – cemetery
  • consigne (f) – left-luggage office
  • consigne manuelle (f) – left-luggage locker
  • correspondance (f) – linking tunnel or walkway, eg in the metro; rail or bus connection
  • cour (f) – courtyard
 
  • DAB (m) – distributeur automatique de billets; ATM
  • défendu – prohibited
  • dégustation (f) – tasting, sampling
  • demi (m) – half; 330mL glass of beer
  • département (m) – administrative division of France
  • dessert (m) – dessert
  • digestif (m) – ‘digestive’; a drink served after a meal
 
  • eau (f) – water
  • eau-de-vie (f) – ‘water of life’; any of a number of brandies made from fruits, berries or nuts
  • église (f) – church
  • embarcadère (m) – pier, jetty
  • entrée (f) – entrance; first course or starter
  • épicerie (f) – small grocery store
  • escalier (m) – stairway
  • espace (f) – space; outlet
  • exposition universelle (f) – world exhibition
 
  • fête (f) – festival; holiday
  • ficelle (f) – string; a thinner, crustier 200g version of the baguette not unlike a very thick breadstick
  • fin de siècle (adj) – ‘end of the century’; characteristic of the last years of the 19th century and generally used to indicate decadence
  • forêt (f) – forest
  • formule (f) – similar to a menu but allows choice of whichever two of three courses you want (eg starter and main course or main course and dessert)
  • fromagerie (f) – cheese shop
  • funiculaire (m) – funicular railway
 
  • galerie (f) – gallery; covered shopping arcade (also called passage)
  • galette (f) – a pancake or flat pastry, with a variety of (usually savoury) fillings; see also crêpe
  • gare or gare SNCF (f) – railway station
  • gare routière (f) – bus station
  • gendarmerie (f) – police station; police force
  • grand magasin (m) – department store
  • grand projet (m) – huge, public edifice erected by a government or politician generally in a bid to immortalise themselves
  • Grands Boulevards (m pl) – ‘Great Boulevards’; the eight contiguous broad thoroughfares that stretch from place de la Madeleine eastwards to the place de la République
 
  • halles (f pl) – covered food market
  • hameau (m) – hamlet
  • hammam (m) – steam room, Turkish bath
  • haute couture (f) – literally ‘high sewing’; the creations of leading designers
  • haute cuisine (f) – ‘high cuisine’; classic French cooking style typified by elaborately prepared multicourse meals
  • hors service – out of order
  • hôtel de ville (m) – city or town hall
  • hôtel particulier (m) – private mansion
 
  • interdit – prohibited
  • intra-muros – ‘within the walls’ (Latin); refers to central Paris
 
  • jardin (m) – garden
  • jardin botanique (m) – botanical garden
  • jeux d’eau (m pl) – fountain displays
 
  • kir (m) – white wine sweetened with a blackcurrant (or other) liqueur
 
  • laverie (f) – laundrette
  • laverie libre-service (f) – self-service laundrette
  • libre-service – self-service
  • lycée (m) – secondary school
 
  • mairie (f) – city or town hall
  • maison de la presse (f) – newsagent
  • marché (m) – market
  • marché aux puces (m) – flea market
  • marché couvert (m) – covered market
  • marché découvert (m) – open-air market
  • menu (m) – fixed-price meal with two or more courses; see formule
  • musée (m) – museum
  • musette (f) – accordion music
 
  • navette (f) – shuttle bus, train or boat
  • nocturne (f) – late night opening at a museum, department store etc
 
  • orangerie (f) – conservatory for growing citrus fruit
 
  • pain (m) – bread
  • palais de justice (m) – law courts
  • parc (m) – park
  • parvis (m) – square in front of a church or public building
  • passage (couvert) (m) – covered shopping arcade (also called galerie)
  • pastis (m) – an aniseed-flavoured aperitif mixed with water
  • pâté (m) – potted meat; a thickish paste, often of pork, cooked in a ceramic dish and served cold (similar to terrine)
  • pâtisserie (f) – cakes and pastries; shop selling these products
  • pelouse (f) – lawn
  • pétanque (f) – see boules
  • pied-noir (m) – ‘black foot’; French colonial born in Algeria
  • place (f) – square or plaza
  • plan (m) – city map
  • plan du quartier (m) – map of nearby streets (hung on the wall near metro exits)
  • plat du jour (m) – daily special in a restaurant
  • point d’argent (m) – ATM
  • poissonnerie (f) – fishmonger, fish shop
  • pont (m) – bridge
  • port (m) – harbour, port
  • port de plaisance (m) – boat harbour or marina
  • porte (f) – door; gate in a city wall
  • poste (f) – post office
  • pourboire (m) – tip
  • préfecture (f) – prefecture; capital city of a département
  • produits biologique – organic food
 
  • quai (m) – quay
  • quartier (m) – quarter, district, neighbourhood
 
  • raï – a type of Algerian popular music
  • RATP – Régie Autonome des Transports Parisiens; Paris’ public transport system
  • RER – Réseau Express Regional; Paris’ suburban train network
  • résidence (f) – residence; hotel usually intended for long-term stays
  • rillettes (f pl) – shredded potted meat or fish
  • rive (f) – bank of a river
  • rond point (m) – roundabout
  • rue (f) – street or road
 
  • salle (f) – hall; room
  • salon de thé (m) – tearoom
  • séance (f) – performance or screening (film)
  • service des urgences (f) – casualty ward, emergency room
  • SNCF – Société Nationale de Chemins de Fer; France’s national railway organisation
  • soldes (m pl) – sale, the sales
  • sonnette (f) – doorbell
  • sono mondiale (f) – world music
  • sortie (f) – exit
  • spectacle (m) – performance, play or theatrical show
  • square (m) – public garden
  • syndicat d’initiative (m) – tourist office
 
  • tabac (m) – tobacconist (which also sells bus tickets, phonecards etc)
  • tarif réduit (m) – reduced price (for students, seniors, children etc)
  • tartine (f) – a slice of bread with any topping or garnish
  • taxe de séjour (f) – municipal tourist tax
  • télécarte (f) – phonecard
  • TGV – train à grande vitesse; high-speed train
  • tour (f) – tower
  • tous les jours – every day (eg on timetables)
  • traiteur (m) – caterer, delicatessen
 
  • Vélib’ (m) – communal bicycle rental scheme in Paris
  • vélo (m) – bicycle
  • version française or v.f. (m) – literally ‘French version’, a film dubbed in French
  • version originale or v.o. – literally ‘original version’, a nondubbed film in its original language with French subtitles
  • vin de table (m) – table wine
  • voie (f) – way; railway platform

Return to beginning of chapter

BEHIND THE SCENES


    THIS BOOK
    THANKS
    OUR READERS
    ACKNOWLEDGMENTS


THIS BOOK

This is the 7th edition of Paris, written by Steve Fallon and Nicola Williams. The 1st edition was researched and written by Daniel Robinson and Tony Wheeler. The 2nd, 3rd, 4th and 5th editions were updated by Steve Fallon. The 6th edition was updated by Steve Fallon and Annabel Hart. This guidebook was commissioned in Lonely Planet’s London office, and produced by the following:

 
  • Commissioning Editor Caroline Sieg
  • Coordinating Editor Jeanette Wall
  • Coordinating Cartographer Valentina Kremenchutskaya
  • Coordinating Layout Designer David Kemp
  • Managing Editors Sasha Baskett, Geoff Howard
  • Managing Cartographer Mark Griffiths
  • Managing Layout Designer Celia Wood
  • Assisting Editors Carolyn Bain, Gennifer Ciavarra, Chris Girdler, Trent Holden, Kim Hutchins, Ali Lemer
  • Assisting Cartographers Fatima Basic, Anita Banh, Valeska Canas, Xavier Di Toro, James Regan, Peter Shields
  • Cover Designer Pepi Bluck
  • Project Manager Rachel Imeson
  • Language Content Coordinator Quentin Frayne
 
  • Thanks to Mark Germanchis, Liz Heynes, Lisa Knights, Trent Paton, Rebecca Lalor, John Mazzocchi, Alison Ridgway
 
  • Cover photographs Bouquet of red roses, Owen Franken/Corbis (top); statue in front of Eiffel Tower, Jean-Bernard Carillet/Lonely Planet Images (bottom).
  • Internal photographs p4 (#2) Photononstop/Alamy; p67 (#3) Michael Jenner/Alamy; p70 (#3) Martin Probert/Alamy; p70 (#4) Bembaron Jeremy/Corbis Sygma. All other photographs by Lonely Planet Images, and by Will Salter except p8 (#1), p60 (#3) Glenn Beanland; p67 (#4) Bruce Yuan-Yue Bi; p66 (#4) Karl Blackwell; p8 (#2), p58 (#2), p60 (#2), p61 (#5), p62 (#1), p63 (#5 & 6), p64 (#1 & 2), p65 (#4), p66 (#1), p68 (#1), p70 (#1), p71 (#1 & 3), p72 (#3) Jean-Bernard Carillet; p57 Ann Cecil; p62 (#3), p72 (#1) Olivier Cirendini; p4 (#3), p69 (#4), p70 (#2) Martin Moos; p68 (#2) Russell Mountford; p6 (#3) Richard Nebesky; p4 (#1), p59 (#4 & 5), p69 (#3) Jonathan Smith; p67 (#1 & 2) Philip & Karen Smith; p2 Jan Stromme.
  • All images are the copyright of the photographers unless otherwise indicated. Many of the images in this guide are available for licensing from Lonely Planet Images: www.lonelyplanetimages.com.

Return to beginning of chapter

THANKS

STEVE FALLON

A number of people helped in the updating of Paris, in particular resident Brenda Turnnidge, who provided invaluable support and insider’s information with her usual efficiency and enthusiasm. Thanks too to Zahia Hafs, Caroline Guilleminot, Olivier Cirendini, Bryan Manning, Dominique and Martine Bodez and Nick Franklin for assistance, ideas and/or a few laughs along the way. Daniel Meyers and Patricia Ribault were overwhelmingly hospitable to a stranger and I (no longer same) am very grateful. A very special merci to my coauthor, Nicola Williams, a true professional who writes not just with flair but with sparkle and keeps to her deadline and word counts. What more could a boy want? As always, I’d like to dedicate my share of Paris to my partner Michael Rothschild, a veritable walking Larousse Gastronomique.


THE LONELY PLANET STORY
Fresh from an epic journey across Europe, Asia and Australia in 1972, Tony and Maureen Wheeler sat at their kitchen table stapling together notes. The first Lonely Planet guidebook, Across Asia on the Cheap, was born.
Travellers snapped up the guides. Inspired by their success, the Wheelers began publishing books to Southeast Asia, India and beyond. Demand was prodigious, and the Wheelers expanded the business rapidly to keep up. Over the years, Lonely Planet extended its coverage to every country and into the virtual world via lonelyplanet.com and the Thorn Tree message board.
As Lonely Planet became a globally loved brand, Tony and Maureen received several offers for the company. But it wasn’t until 2007 that they found a partner whom they trusted to remain true to the company’s principles of travelling widely, treading lightly and giving sustainably. In October of that year, BBC Worldwide acquired a 75% share in the company, pledging to uphold Lonely Planet’s commitment to independent travel, trustworthy advice and editorial independence.
Today, Lonely Planet has offices in Melbourne, London and Oakland, with over 500 staff members and 300 authors. Tony and Maureen are still actively involved with Lonely Planet. They’re travelling more often than ever, and they’re devoting their spare time to charitable projects. And the company is still driven by the philosophy of Across Asia on the Cheap: ‘All you’ve got to do is decide to go and the hardest part is over. So go!’

NICOLA WILLIAMS

The overwhelmingly graciousness, good humour and willingness to help of the many (very busy) Parisians and others I interviewed during my forays in the capital cannot be emphasised enough: Un grand grand merci to NetVibes.com founder and CEO Tariq Krim and his assistant Laure Chouillou; Patricia Wells (www.patriciawells.com); Romee de Goriainoff (The Experimental Cocktail Club); Virginie Violet (La Scène Bastille); vintage fashion experts Franćoise Auguet (Ragtime) and Lawrence Carlier (Le Dépôt-Vente de Buci); Christophe at Le Pré Verre. Outside Paris, many thanks to Roland Pinson at the Boucherie Pinson in Chartres; Laëtitia Rousseaux at Château d’Anvers; Bartabas, Laure Guillaume and Marie-Hélène Arbour at the Académie du Spectacle Équestre in Versailles; and Sue Dumand (Reel Books) for an invaluable lowdown on the Fontainebleau scene. Kudos to my coordinating author Steve Fallon, font of Paris knowledge and super-heroic to work with. And on the home front a flurry of heartfelt bisous to Sally Elliott for revealing her Paris haunt favourites; my parents Ann and Paul Williams; and Matthias for holding the fort while I was gone, valiantly testing out Paris for kids with Niko, aged six, and Mischa, aged four, and last but far from least, sparking off the love affair to start with.

Return to beginning of chapter

OUR READERS

Many thanks to the travellers who used the last edition and wrote to us with helpful hints, useful advice and interesting anecdotes:

Steven Andreoff, Ian & Miranda Andrews, Ben Andrews & Emma Haycraft, Zoe Ash, Magdalena Balcerek, Isaiah Bier, Robin Bomet, Romke Bontekoe, Stephen Boswell, William Botkin, Paula Bradway, Bleddyn Butcher, Jenny & Wei Ch’Ng, Helen Chou, Barbara Clayton, Laura Cochrane, Matthew Corks, Jenny Cornet, Florent Dargnies, Howard Davies, Lydia Du Rieu, Beth Eli, Roberto Finazzi, Wendy Foster, Elin FröGeli, Frances Gendlin, Melissa Graovac, Susanne Harms, Karina Hellmann, Sue Henderson, Robert Holder, Roger Holstein, Carol Hoyle, Anders Jeppsson, Alice Kacperska, Christoph Kaupat, Birte Klitte, Florian Krisch, Jason Lam, Blank Leonard, Bethe Lewis, Ulrike Liebrenz, Christine Lovasz-Kaiser, Jonathan Man, Dan Miller, Joyce Roberta Miller-Alper, Cheryl Northey, David O’Connell, Prudence Peiffer, Danielle Perry, Nancy Rios, Shannon Roy, Rebecca Schweder, Mary Seifert, Sidharth Shah, Rebecca Sonntag, Bob Stenning, Janice Swab, Linda Tomasone, Mario & Valerie Toups, Una Ui Dhuinn, Georges Valat, Mayda Velez, Luka Vidovi, John Wade, Long Wang, Thomas Weinmann


SEND US YOUR FEEDBACK
We love to hear from travellers – your comments keep us on our toes and help make our books better. Our well-travelled team reads every word on what you loved or loathed about this book. Although we cannot reply individually to postal submissions, we always guarantee that your feedback goes straight to the appropriate authors, in time for the next edition. Each person who sends us information is thanked in the next edition – and the most useful submissions are rewarded with a free book.
To send us your updates – and find out about Lonely Planet events, newsletters and travel news – visit our award-winning website: www.lonelyplanet.com/contact.
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Return to beginning of chapter

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

Many thanks to the following for the use of their content: Paris Metro Map © 2008 RATP

Return to beginning of chapter

Published by Lonely Planet Publications Pty Ltd
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© Lonely Planet 2008
Photographs © Will Salter and as listed (p422) 2008

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Although the authors and Lonely Planet have taken all reasonable care in preparing this book, we make no warranty about the accuracy or completeness of its content and, to the maximum extent permitted, disclaim all liability arising from its use.

Return to beginning of chapter

Table of Contents

Cover

Contents

The Authors

Getting Started

When to Go
Festivals & Events
Costs & Money
Internet Resources
Blogs

Background

History
Early Settlement
Invasions & Dynasties
Consolidation of Power
A Cultural ‘Rebirth’
Reform & Reaction
Ancien Régime & Enlightenment
Come the Revolution
Little Big Man & Empire
The Return of the Monarchy
From President to Emperor
The Commune & The ‘Beautiful Age’
The Great War & Its Aftermath
WWII & Occupation
Postwar Instability
Charles de Gaulle & The Fifth Republic
Pompidou to Chirac
Paris Today
Arts
Literature
Philosophy
Painting
Sculpture
Music
Cinema
Theatre
Dance
Architecture
Gallo-Roman
Merovingian & Carolingian
Romanesque
Gothic
Renaissance
Baroque
Neoclassicism
Art Nouveau
Modern
Contemporary
Environment & Planning
The Land
Green Paris
Urban Planning & Development
Government & Politics
Local Government
National Government
Media
Fashion
Language
Timeline

Neighbourhoods

Itinerary Builder
Louvre & Les Halles
Marais & Bastille
The Islands
Île de La CitÉ
Île St-Louis
Latin Quarter & Jardin Des Plantes
St-Germain, Odéon & Luxembourg
Montparnasse
Faubourg St-Germain & Invalides
Eiffel Tower Area & 16e Arrondissement
ÉToile & Champs-élysées
Clichy & Gare St-Lazare
Opéra & Grands Boulevards
Gare du Nord, Gare de L’est & République
Ménilmontant & Belleville
Gare de Lyon, Nation & Bercy
13e Arrondissement & Chinatown
15e Arrondissement
Montmartre & Pigalle
La Villette
Beyond Central Paris
Bois de Vincennes & Surrounds
Bois de Boulogne & Surrounds
La Défense
St-Denis
Montmartre Art Attack
Parisian Round-the-World Tour
Right Bank Time Passages
Medieval Meanderings in the Marais
Latin Quarter Literary Loop

Shopping

Louvre & Les Halles
Marais & Bastille
The Islands
Latin Quarter & Jardin des Plantes
St-Germain, Odéon & Luxembourg
Montparnasse
Faubourg St-Germain & Invalides
Étoile & Champs-élysées
Opéra & Grands Boulevards
Gare du Nord, Gare de L’est & République
Gare de Lyon, Nation & Bercy
15e Arrondissement
Montmartre & Pigalle
Beyond Central Paris

Eating

History
Celebrating with Food
Etiquette
Staples & Specialities
Where to Eat
Vegetarians & Vegans
Practicalities
Louvre & les Halles
Self-Catering
Marais & Bastille
Also Recommended
Self-Catering
The Islands
Self-Catering
Latin Quarter & Jardin des Plantes
Self-Catering
St-Germain, Odéon & Luxembourg
Self-Catering
Montparnasse
Self-Catering
Faubourg St-Germain & Invalides
Self-Catering
Eiffel Tower Area & 16e Arrondissement
Self-Catering
Étoile & Champs-élysées
Self-Catering
Clichy & Gare St-Lazare
Self-Catering
Opéra & Grands Boulevards
Self-Catering
Gare du Nord, Gare de L’est & République
Self-Catering
Ménilmontant & Belleville
Self-Catering
Gare de Lyon, Nation & Bercy
Self-Catering
13e Arrondissement & Chinatown
Self-Catering
15e Arrondissement
Also Recommended
Self-Catering
Montmartre & Pigalle
Self-Catering
Beyond Central Paris
La Défense
St-Denis

Drinking

Practicalities
Louvre & les Halles
Marais & Bastille
Latin Quarter & Jardin des Plantes
St-Germain, Odéon & Luxembourg
Montparnasse
Faubourg St-Germain & Invalides
Étoile & Champs-élysées
Clichy & Gare St-Lazare
Opéra & Grands Boulevards
Gare du Nord, Gare de L’est & République
Ménilmontant & Belleville
Gare de Lyon, Nation & Bercy
13e Arrondissement & Chinatown
Also Recommended
15e Arrondissement
Montmartre & Pigalle

Nightlife & The Arts

Cabaret
Clubbing
Comedy
Music
Rock, Pop & Indie
Classical
Jazz & Blues
World & Latino
French Chansons
Dance
Film
Opera
Theatre

Sports & Activities

Health & Fitness
Hammams & Spas
Gyms
Activities
Cycling
Skating
Boules & Bowling
Tennis
Swimming
Spectator Sport
Football
Rugby
Tennis
Cycling
Horse Racing

Gay & Lesbian Paris Eating

Eating
Drinking & Nightlife
Louvre & les Halles
Marais & Bastille
Sleeping
Further Resources

Sleeping

Accommodation Styles
Reservations
Room Rates
Louvre & les Halles
Marais & Bastille
Also Recommended
The Islands
Latin Quarter & Jardin des Plantes
St-Germain, Odéon & Luxembourg
Also Recommended
Montparnasse
Faubourg St-Germain & Invalides
Eiffel Tower Area & 16e Arrondissement
Étoile & Champs-élysées
Clichy & Gare St-Lazare
Opéra & Grands Boulevards
Gare du Nord, Gare de L’est & République
Gare de Lyon, Nation & Bercy
13e Arrondissement & Chinatown
15e Arrondissement
Montmartre & Pigalle

Excursions

Information
Organised Tours
Versailles
Information
Eating
Sleeping
Fontainebleau
Information
Eating
Sleeping
Vaux-le-Vicomte
Chantilly
Information & Orientation
Eating
Sleeping
Chartres
Information
Eating
Sleeping
Giverny
Information
Eating & Sleeping
Auvers-Sur-Oise
Information
Eating & Sleeping
Disneyland Resort Paris
Eating & Sleeping
Parc Astérix
Information
Reims
Information
Eating & Sleeping

Transport

Air
Bicycle
Boat
Bus
Car & Motorcycle
Metro & Rer Networks
Taxi
Train
Tram & Funicular

Directory

Business Hours
Children
Climate
Courses
Customs Regulations
Discount Cards
Electricity
Embassies
Emergency
Holidays
Insurance
Internet Access
Laundry
Legal Matters
Maps
Medical Services
Money
Newspapers & Magazines
Organised Tours
Photography
Places of Worship
Post
Radio
Relocating
Safety
Taxes & Refunds
Telephone
Time
Tipping
Toilets
Tourist Information
Travellers with Disabilities
Visas
Women Travellers
Work

Language

Social
Practical
Food
Emergencies
Health

Behind the Scenes

This Book
Thanks
Our Readers
Acknowledgments

World Time Zones

Map Legend

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Book Cover

Paris – Read Now and Download Mobi

Comments

Each edition of this unique series marries a collection of previously published essays with detailed practical information, creating a colorful and deeply absorbing pastiche of opinions and advice. Each book is a valuable resource — a compass of sorts — pointing vacationers, business travelers, and readers in many directions. Going abroad with a Collected Traveler edition is like being accompanied by a group of savvy and observant friends who are intimately familiar with your destination.

This edition on Paris features:
Distinguished writers, such as Mavis Gallant, Barbara Grizzuti Harrison, Herbert Gold, Olivier Bernier, Richard Reeves, Patricia Wells, Catharine Reynolds, and Gerald Asher, who share seductive pieces about Parisian neighborhoods, personalities, the Luxembourg Gardens, Père-Lachaise and other monuments, restaurants and wine bars, le Plan de Paris, and le Beaujolais Nouveau.
Annotated bibliographies for each section with…

Author
Barrie Kerper

Rights
Copyright © 2011 by Barrie Kerper

Language
en

Published
2011-07-27

ISBN
9780307739322

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Photo Credit col1.1

A VINTAGE DEPARTURES ORIGINAL, JULY 2011

Copyright © 2000, 2011 by Barrie Kerper

All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Vintage Books, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, and in Canada by Random House of Canada Limited, Toronto.

Some of the material originally published in the United States as part of Paris by Three Rivers Press, an imprint of the Crown Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York, in 2000.

Vintage is a registered trademark and Vintage Departures and colophon are trademarks of Random House, Inc.

All photos by the author with the exception of those that appear in locations 13.1 and 13.2 (courtesy of Patricia and Walter Wells), 22.1 (courtesy of Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant), 24.1 (courtesy of Quentin Bacon), 30.1 (courtesy of Jack McAuliffe), 43.1 (The Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C.), bm1.1, bm1.2, and bm1.3 (courtesy of Four Seasons Hotel George V), bm1.4 and bm1.5 (courtesy of Pavillon de la Reine), bm1.6 (courtesy of Hotel Verneuil), bm1.7 (courtesy of Hotel Thérèse), bm1.8 (courtesy of Hotel Récamier), bm1.9, bm1.10, bm1.11 (courtesy of Charles Coffre), bm1.12 (courtesy of Hollins University), bm1.13 (courtesy of Jenny McCormick), and col1.1, fm1.1, p1.1, 1.1, 4.1, 5.1, 5.2, p2.1, 13.3, p3.1, 22.2, 24.2, p5.1, 26.1, 29.1, 29.2, 49.1, 49.2, 49.3, bm1.14, bm1.15, bm1.16, bm1.17, bm1.18 (courtesy of Arlene Lasagna). 

  

“Letter from Paris,” located here, originally appeared in the Winter 1995 issue of the Hollins alumnae magazine and is reprinted with kind permission.

Owing to limitations of space, all acknowledgments to reprint previously published material can be found here.

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Paris : the collected traveler / edited by Barrie Kerper.
p.  cm.—(Vintage departures)
“An inspired companion guide.”
Includes bibliographical references.
eISBN: 978-0-307-73932-2
1. Paris (France)—Description and travel—Sources.  2. Travelers’ writings.  3. Paris (France)—Social life and customs—Sources.  4. Paris (France)—Guidebooks.  5. Paris (France)—Biography.  6. Interviews—France—Paris.  I. Kerper, Barrie.
DC707.P2546 2011
914.4’3610484—dc22
2011013200

www.vintagebooks.com

Cover design by Abby Weintraub
Cover photograph © Silvia Otte/Getty Images

v3.1

Once again, to my mother, Phyllis,
who always believed my boxes of files
held something of value,
and, in memorium, to my father, Peter.
The memory of their first visit to Paris in 1979,
when I lived there as a student,
remains one of the fondest of my life.

CONTENTS

Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
Epigraph
Introduction

FRANCE

France: The Outsider by Ian Jack
Dreyfus Is Decorated
La Poste and I by Barbara Wilde
The French, Rude? Mais Non! by Joseph Voelker
Recommended Reading

PARIS

Foreword to John Russell’s Paris by Rosamond Bernier
According to Plan—Maps of Paris by Catharine Reynolds
Why I Love My Quincaillerie by Barbara Wilde
Thirza’s Take on Paris by Thirza Vallois
Proust’s Paris by Sanche de Gramont
We’ll Always Have … Questions by Ann Burack-Weiss
Recommended Reading
Interview: Patricia Wells

LES QUARTIERS

The New Left Bank by Alexander Lobrano
On the Île Saint-Louis by Herbert Gold
The Paris of Parisians by Catharine Reynolds
Recommended Reading

LA CUISINE FRANÇAISE

A Saga of Bread by Naomi Barry
Liquid Gold by Susan Herrmann Loomis
The Anatomy of Success: Rémi Flachard, International Specialist in Vintage Cookbooks by Naomi Barry
Why We Love French Wine by Peter Hellman
Recommended Reading
Interview: Kermit Lynch
Interview: Ina Garten

À TABLE!

A Clean, Well-Lighted Café in Montparnasse by Adair Lara
Counter Culture: The Success of Breaking the Rules by Naomi Barry
Thanksgiving in Paris by Laura Chamaret
Recommended Reading
Interview: Alexander Lobrano

MUSEUMS, MONUMENTS, AND GARDENS

The Walls of Paris by Mary McAuliffe
Affordable Gothic Thrills by Anne Prah-Perochon
A Tale of Two Artists by Catharine Reynolds
Of Cobbles, Bikes, and Bobos by David Downie
Perfection Squared by André Aciman
Solar-Powered Timekeeping in Paris by Susan Allport
Station to Station by Barbara Dinerman
Streets of Desire by Vivian Thomas
Paint the Town by Paris Muse
Passages by Catharine Reynolds
The Secret Shops of the Palais Royal by Barbara Wilde
Recommended Reading

THE SEINE

Bridging the Seine by Vivian Thomas
Recommended Reading

PERSONALITIES

The Master of the Machine by John Russell
The Message by Jeannette Ferrary
We’ll Always Have Paris by Stacy Schiff
Le Père Tanguy by Henri Perruchot
Recommended Reading

THE ÎLE-DE-FRANCE AND BEYOND: EXCURSIONS FROM PARIS

Interview: David Downie and Alison Harris
A Paris Miscellany
Acknowledgments
Permissions Acknowledgments
About the Editor
Other Books Edited by Barrie Kerper

 

Paris is a city that might well be spoken of in the plural, as the Greeks used to speak of Athens, for there are many Parises, and the tourists’ Paris is only superficially related to the Paris of the Parisians. The foreigner driving through Paris from one museum to another is quite oblivious to the presence of a world he brushes past without seeing. Until you have wasted time in a city, you cannot pretend to know it well. The soul of a big city is not to be grasped so easily; in order to make contact with it, you have to have been bored, you have to have suffered a bit in those places that contain it. Anyone can get hold of a guide and tick off all the monuments, but within the very confines of Paris there is another city as difficult of access as Timbuktu once was.

—JULIAN GREEN, Paris

INTRODUCTION

A breath of Paris preserves the soul.
—Victor Hugo, Les Misérables
Those who have experienced Paris have the advantage over those who haven’t. We are the ones who have glimpsed a little bit of heaven, down here on earth.
—Deirdre Kelly, Paris Times Eight
Paris is truly an ocean. Plumb its depths, knowing you will never touch bottom. Run its length, describe it. Whatever care you take in exploring or detailing, however many and determined the navigators of this sea, there always will be virgin territory, unknown grottoes, flowers, pearls, monsters, something amazing, overlooked by literary divers.
—Honoré de Balzac, Le Père Goriot

 PARIS HAS LONG been a beacon—of light, beauty, culture, and civilization—to people and nations around the world. The city has been called the undisputed capital of the nineteenth century, though Gertrude Stein, writing in the early half of the 1900s, could also make the claim that “Paris was where the twentieth century was.” Though the city unquestionably lost some of its luster in the mid to late twentieth century, there is also no doubt that Paris is reemerging as a city of grace, significance, and prominence in the twenty-first. As anywhere, it is currently faced with some formidable urban challenges, yet as it works toward solutions to its ills, Paris retains its allure, and its image as a beacon will survive. Paris is still remarkably beautiful; it still has cachet and prestige, grandeur and distinction. “Oh, Paris!” writes Joyce Slayton Mitchell. “Even with modern and economic changes, the value of the beautiful is conserved.” The city still brings a sparkle to many an eye, and makes grown adults sigh at the mention of its name.

One of those adults is me. Though I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Spain—that’s where I took my very first overseas trip, with my tenth-grade Spanish class in 1975—it was Paris that changed my life, made me realize who I wanted to be, made me who I am today. It was in Paris that I lived as a student and learned to think in another language and grasped what was really important in life. Though I have only recently become familiar with the late historian Richard Cobb, a passage from his book Paris and Elsewhere perfectly sums up how I felt then: “To live in France is to live double, every moment counts, the light of the sky of the Île-de-France is unique and a source of joy, there is joy too in a small rectangle of sunshine at the top of a tall, greying, leprous building, the colour of Utrillo, and in the smell of chestnuts that brings the promise of autumn, la rentrée, and the beloved repetition of the Paris year.” I sometimes wonder if I would feel the same way if I’d gone as a student to live in London, or another European country, or somewhere in Asia, Africa, or South America—after all, every experience abroad is enriching and worthwhile. But I honestly don’t believe I would have. Paris was and remains a city that so very many other places emulate and aspire to.

If it sometimes seems that the world is shrinking (it is) and Paris appears clichéd and too popular and too much like anywhere else (occasionally it is), understand that things are different there. And, today, due to the influx of inhabitants from France’s former colonies, visitors may feel in certain quartiers that they are in a far-flung city nowhere near Paris. While it is true that there are too many of the same retailers and fast-food chains in Paris that we have in North America, thankfully there are enough one-of-a-kind shops, local places to eat, and only-in-Paris experiences to make you feel the journey you’ve made is worth it.

It’s easy in Paris to succumb to Stendhal Syndrome, named for the French novelist Stendhal, who felt physically sick after he visited Santa Croce in Florence; it refers to the sensation of being completely overwhelmed by your surroundings. (My translation: seeing and doing way too much.) Visitors to Paris who arrive with too long a list of must-sees are prime candidates for the syndrome. Author and Italy expert Fred Plotkin counsels against falling into this trap in his foreword to Claudio Gatti’s Florence in Detail (an excellent guidebook, by the way) by advising, “Like it or not, one must adopt a policy of ‘Poco, ma buono’ (loosely translated as ‘Do less, but do it really well’) to experience what Florence has to offer. A mad dash through a gallery will leave you with only fleeting impressions. Spend ten minutes in front of one painting and you will see remarkable things that a two-minute look could not reveal; spend an hour in front of that same painting and your life will be changed. To really pause and reflect, whether in front of a sculpture or a dish of gelato, is to find the presence of art and genius in all things.” For Paris, one may easily substitute the phrase Peu, mais bien, an image of the Louvre rather than the Uffizi, and a dish of glace instead of gelato. I would add that by creating more reasonable itineraries, you give yourself the opportunity to acquire more than a superficial understanding of a place. I particularly enjoy simply sitting at a café table, looking, listening, and wondering. What is life like in the beautiful apartment building off the place, the one the young boy has just entered carrying a purchase from the pâtisserie? I am curious about the elderly man in his antiques shop, the mother and daughter walking arm in arm, the fruit vendor at the rue Mouffetard outdoor market who talks nonstop and greets everyone like she’s known them all her life. And, enviously, I wonder where the woman walking on the rue Saint-Honoré bought her beautiful handbag.

  

  

In addition to a reasonable schedule, I also counsel adjusting to daily life, and one of the fastest ways to do this in France is to abandon whatever schedule you observe at home and eat when the French eat. Mealtimes in France are well established, and if you have not purchased provisions for a picnic or found a place to eat lunch by one o’clock, many restaurants will be full—or sold out of that day’s specials—and many shops closed. Likewise, dinner is not typically served at six, an hour that is entirely too early for anyone in France to contemplate his or her next meal. The phrase cinq à sept (five to seven) refers to a sort of French happy hour, or apéro. (It once more commonly was the time of day when men and their mistresses would rendezvous, but today it usually refers to an accepted time to meet for drinks before dinner.) While cocktails between five and seven are not unfamiliar to North Americans, I continue to be amazed at how many of us still eat dinner at six p.m. (my hypothesis is that North Americans eat dinner earlier than any other people in the world, which I don’t consider to be a positive custom). Adjust your schedule and you’ll be on French time, doing things when the French do them, eliminating possible disappointment and frustration and the feeling of being utterly out of step.

ABOUT THIS BOOK

A traveler without knowledge is a bird without wings.
—Sa’adi, Persian poet, Gulistan

The Collected Traveler editions are meant to be companion volumes to guidebooks that go beyond the practical information that traditional guidebooks supply. Each individual volume is perfect to bring along, but each is also a sort of planning package—the books guide readers to many other sources, and they are sources of inspiration. James Pope-Hennessy, in his wonderful book Aspects of Provence, notes that “if one is to get best value out of places visited, some skeletal knowledge of their history is necessary.… Sight-seeing is by no means the only object of a journey, but it is as unintelligent as it is lazy not to equip ourselves to understand the sights we see.” Immerse yourself in a destination and you’ll acquire a deeper understanding and appreciation of the place and the people who live there, and, not surprisingly, you’ll have more fun.

This series promotes the strategy of staying longer within a smaller area so as to experience it more fully. Susan Allen Toth refers to this in one of her many wonderful books, England as You Like It, in which she subscribes to the “thumbprint theory of travel”: spending at least a week in one spot no larger than her thumbprint covers on a large-scale map of England. Excursions are encouraged, as long as they’re about an hour’s drive away.

I have discovered in my own travels that a week in one place, even a spot no bigger than my thumbprint, is rarely long enough to see and enjoy it all. For this reason, most of the books in The Collected Traveler series focus on either cities or regions, as opposed to entire countries. There will not be a book on all of France, for example. I am mindful that France is a member of two communities, European and Mediterranean, and that an understanding of both is essential to understanding Paris, and I have tried to reflect this wider-world sense of community throughout the book. But even though some visitors to Paris may travel on to points farther afield in France, each of its regions deserves to be covered in a separate book and is too far outside this particular thumbprint.

The major portion of this book features a selection of articles and essays from various periodicals and recommended reading relevant to the theme of each section. The articles and books were chosen from my own files and home library, which I’ve maintained for more than two decades. (I often feel I am the living embodiment of a comment that Samuel Johnson made in 1775, that “a man will turn over half a library to make one book.”) The selected writings reflect the culture, politics, history, current social issues, religion, cuisine, and arts of the people you’ll be visiting. They represent the observations and opinions of a wide variety of novelists, travel writers, journalists, and others whom I refer to as “observant enthusiasts.” These writers are typically authorities on Paris, or France, or both; they either live there (as permanent or part-time residents) or visit there often for business or pleasure. I’m very discriminating in seeking opinions and recommendations, and I am not interested in the remarks of unobservant wanderers. I am not implying that first-time visitors to France have nothing noteworthy or interesting to share—they very often do, and are often keen observers. Conversely, frequent travelers can be jaded and apt to miss the finer details that make Paris the exceptional place it is. Above all, I am interested in the opinions of people who want to know France, not just see it.

I’ve included numerous older articles because they were particularly well-written, thought-provoking, or unique in some way, and because the authors’ views stand as a valuable record of a certain time in history. Even after the passage of many years you may share the emotions and opinions of the writer, and you may find that plus ça change, plus c’est la même chose. I have many, many more articles in my files than I was able to reprint here, and I ask for your forgiveness if it seems a particular neighborhood or monument gets more attention than others, or if I have highlighted certain topics more than others. The truth is, I embrace it all, the complete picture, if you will. To borrow a lovely phrase from One Hundred & One Beautiful Small Towns in France, I claim, “as you will after your own visit, a surfeit of abundance, and a divine temptation to be reckless.” Though there are a few pieces whose absence I very much regret, I believe the anthology you’re holding is very comprehensive.

Some notes about the cuisine and restaurant sections, “La Cuisine Française” and “À Table!,” are in order. Food, and the enjoyment of it, still holds a place of honor in French life, prompting Elizabeth Bard, in Lunch in Paris, to write, “So much of what I’d learned about France I’d discovered autour de la table—around the table.” Likewise, Suzy Gershman, in her book C’est la Vie, relates a revealing tale about the first time she made the French dessert clafoutis. Even though she’d cooked it for the proper amount of time, it appeared completely liquified. Just then her doorbell rang. It was the telephone repairman, and though he was there to fix a damaged telephone line, she explained her predicament with the clafoutis. He complimented her on its appearance and said that she simply had to let it cool and it would congeal, or she could put it in the fridge and it would set more quickly. “Only in France would the telephone repairman know how to rescue a clafoutis.” And as Edward Behr notes in his excellent journal The Art of Eating, “The French still care enormously about food. In a luxury restaurant in Paris not long ago, I felt an extraordinary sense of comfort and of intimate contact with craftsmen working without inhibition to accomplish their best. Even the welcome was a lesson in the craft of the server—not friendliness (there’s no skill in that) but a concern for my happiness during my time in the restaurant. I was certain that the warmth reflected pride in the chef, all the cooks, the entire restaurant.”

For all of these reasons and more, I hope you will take my book as merely the first step in investigating this crucial area of French culture. I have great respect for restaurant reviewers, and though their work may seem glamorous—it sometimes is—it is also very hard. It’s an all-consuming, full-time job, and that is why I urge you to consult the very good recommended cookbooks as well as restaurant guidebooks. Restaurant (and hotel) reviewers are, for the most part, professionals who have dined in hundreds of eating establishments (and spent hundreds of nights in hotels). They are far more capable of assessing the qualities and flaws of a place than I am. I don’t always agree with every opinion of a reviewer, but I am far more inclined to defer to their opinion over that of someone who is unfamiliar with French food in general, for example, or someone who doesn’t dine out frequently enough to recognize what good restaurants have in common. My files are filled with restaurant reviews, and I could have included many more articles, but that would have been repetitive and ultimately beside the point. I have selected a few articles that give you a feel for eating out in Paris, alert you to some things to look for in selecting a truly worthwhile place versus a mediocre one, and highlight notable dishes and culinary specialties visitors will encounter.

The recommended reading for each section in my book is one of its most important features and represents my favorite aspect of this series. (My annotations are, however, much shorter than I would prefer—did I mention that I love encyclopedias?—but they are still nothing less than enormously enthusiastic endorsements and I encourage you to read as many of the books as you can.) One reason I do not include many excerpts from books in my series is that I am not convinced an excerpt will always lead a reader to the book in question, and good books deserve to be read in their entirety. Art critic John Russell wrote an essay, in 1962, entitled “Pleasure in Reading,” in which he stated, “Not for us today’s selections, readers, digests, and anthologizings: only the Complete Edition will do.” Years later, in 1986, he noted that “bibliographies make dull reading, some people say, but I have never found them so. They remind us, they prompt us, and they correct us. They double and treble as history, as biography, and as a freshet of surprises. They reveal the public self, the private self, and the buried self of the person commemorated. How should we not enjoy them, and be grateful to the devoted student who has done the compiling?” The section of a nonfiction book I always turn to first is the bibliography, as it is there that I learn something about the author who has done the compiling as well as about other notable books I know I will want to read.

When I read about travel in the days before transatlantic flights, I always marvel at the number of steamer trunks and baggage people were accustomed to taking. If I were traveling back then, however, my trunks would have been filled with books, not clothes. Although I travel light and seldom check bags, I have been known to fill an entire suitcase with books, secure in the knowledge that I’ll have them all with me for the duration of my trip. The advent of lightweight electronic reading devices can make luggage much less heavy, but there are always some titles I absolutely have to have in a paper-and-cover format.

Each recommended reading section features titles I feel are the best available and most worth your time. I realize that “best” is subjective; readers will simply have to trust me that I have been extremely thorough in deciding which books to recommend. I have not hesitated to list out-of-print titles because some of the most excellent books ever written about Paris and France are (sadly) out of print (and deserve to be returned to print!), and are worthy of your best efforts to track them down—most of them can be found at libraries, used-book stores, or online booksellers that deal in out-of-print volumes. (Abebooks.com is my favorite online source.) A wonderful online piece called “Tales of the Unread,” at the nifty Web site The Second Pass, makes the observation that “publishers naturally want to tell you about what’s new or what’s evergreen. But most readers know the pleasure of somehow discovering and falling in love with a book that has fallen from view.” Great books are great books, whenever they were published, and what’s “old” to one reader is “new” to another. That’s the wonderful thing about books! There are undoubtedly titles with which I’m unfamiliar and therefore do not appear here, and I hope you’ll let me know if a favorite of yours is missing. Bibliophiles, no matter how many books they have, love nothing better than to discover yet another book or author on a subject about which they’re passionate.

I also believe the leisure reading you bring along should be related in some way to where you’re going, so these lists include fiction and poetry titles that feature Parisian or French characters or settings. (I do not always annotate these titles, as my aim is simply to inform you of the numerous choices available.) I’m especially fond of historical fiction, and recently I was pleased to discover that Roger Sutton, editor in chief of The Horn Book, a wonderful magazine dedicated to children’s and young adult literature, is, too. “Historical fiction,” he writes, “is not only one excellent way to explain our parents (or grandparents) to ourselves, it can also explain ourselves to ourselves, allowing readers to consider what they might have done, or how they might have been different, in circumstances unlike their own. We don’t read historical fiction to find out ‘what it was like back then’ so much as to get a fresh look at who we are now. And if I want to take another look at who I was then? All I have to do is remember what I was reading.” I do not adhere to the belief seemingly so prevalent at many periodicals today that unless a book or online source is utterly au courant it isn’t worthy of a reader’s time. I strongly believe that my books should evoke a sense of history and emphasize context, which has become increasingly important in today’s world. Reading a biography, a cookbook, a memoir, and a work of history, or reading a novel, a guidebook, and a photography or art book provides travelers with context.

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Sprinkled throughout this book I have included the brief observations of a number of visitors to Paris and northern France—ranging from friends and colleagues to notable Francophiles such as Judith Jones, Mark Greenside, Mireille Guiliano, Steven Barclay, Barbara Fairchild, and Molly Wizenberg—describing their favorite sites or experiences from their visits. There are also interviews throughout the book, with Ina Garten, Suzy Gershman, Alexander Lobrano, and Patricia Wells, among others.

An “A to Z Miscellany” appears at the end of the book. This is an alphabetical assemblage of information about words, phrases, foods, people, themes, historical notes, and personal favorites of mine that are unique to Paris and France. Will you learn of some nontouristy things to see and do? Yes. Will you also learn more about the better-known aspects of Paris? Yes. The Eiffel Tower, a little neighborhood park in the twentieth, the Canal Saint-Martin, Notre-Dame, a perfect café crème, the Musée d’Orsay, Chartres Cathedral, Versailles, Giverny, and the experience of being the only tourist in the local bistro are all equally representative of Paris and its surrounding regions. Seeing and doing them all is what makes for a memorable visit, and no one, by the way, should make you feel guilty for wanting to see some famous sites. They have become famous for a reason: they are really something to see, the Eiffel Tower included. Canon number eighty-four in Bruce Northam’s Globetrotter Dogma is “The good old days are now,” in which he wisely reminds us that destinations are not ruined even though they may have been more “real” however many years ago. “ ’Tis a haughty condescension to insist that because a place has changed or lost its innocence that it’s not worth visiting; change requalifies a destination. Your first time is your first time; virgin turf simply is. The moment you commit to a trip, there begins the search for adventure.”

Ultimately, this is the compendium of information that I wish I’d had between two covers years ago. I admit it isn’t the “perfect” book; for that, I envision a waterproof jacket and pockets inside the front and back covers, pages and pages of accompanying maps, lots of blank pages for notes, a bookmark, mileage and size conversion charts … in other words, something so encyclopedic in both weight and size that no one would want to carry it, let alone read it. I envision such a large volume because I believe that to really get to know a place, to truly understand it in a nonsuperficial way, one must either live there or travel there again and again. Just as Henry Miller noted that “to know Paris is to know a great deal,” it seems to me that it can take nothing short of a lifetime of studying and traveling to grasp Paris. I do not pretend to have completely grasped it now, many years later, nor do I pretend to have completely grasped the other destinations that are featured in The Collected Traveler series, but I am trying, by continuously reading, collecting, and traveling. And I presume readers like you are, too. That said, I am exceedingly happy with this edition, and I believe it will prove helpful in the anticipation of your upcoming journey, in the enjoyment of your trip while it’s happening, and in the remembrance of it when you’re back home.

Tous mes vœux pour un bon voyage!

FRANCE

There is, I think, something that sets France apart from many other parts of the world. I know of no other country that is so fascinating yet so frustrating, so aware of the world and its place within it but at the same time utterly insular. A nation touched by nostalgia, with a past so great—so marked by brilliance and achievement—that French people today seem both enriched and burdened by it. France is like a maddening, moody lover who inspires emotional highs and lows. One minute it fills you with a rush of passion, the next you’re full of fury itching to smack the mouth of some sneering shopkeeper or smug civil servant. Yes, it’s a love-hate relationship. But it’s charged with so much mystery, longing and that French specialty—séduction—that we can’t resist coming back for more.
—SARAH TURNBULL,
Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris

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France: The Outsider
IAN JACK

THIS EDITORIAL WAS the introductory essay in an issue of the fine, thought-provoking literary magazine Granta. Though it appeared in the autumn 1997 issue, the references made to society and politics remain very much similar today. (Though the unemployment rate in France, for one thing, has fallen.) The essay as it appears here is an edited version of the original.

IAN JACK was the editor of Granta from 1995 to 2008. He edited London’s Independent on Sunday from 1991 to 1995, and currently he writes a weekly column for the Guardian. Jack has also served as a foreign correspondent in South Asia and is the author of The Country Formerly Known as Great Britain (Jonathan Cape, 2009).

 THE FIRST MAN to fly solo across the Atlantic and the hero of his age, Charles Lindbergh, saw France from the air on May 21, 1927. He had been flying for more than thirty hours and seen nothing but ocean since he left New York, and now the green fields and woods of Normandy were below him. Journey’s end! Time for a bite! He took a sandwich from its wrapper and stretched to throw the wrapper from the cockpit. Then he looked down and decided that just wouldn’t do. “My first act,” Lindbergh said to himself, “will not be to sully such a beautiful garden.” His American waste paper remained in the aircraft—scrunched, one assumes, in a ball at his feet.

The French writer Jean-Marie Domenach, who died this summer, tells this story in his last book: Regarder la France: essai sur le malaise français. It is for Domenach yet another small stone in a large mountain of anecdotal evidence gathered to demonstrate the singularity of France as a state, a people, a culture and (in this case) a landscape. But, as Domenach’s subtitle indicates, all isn’t well with this singularity. The fields that Lindbergh flew over are larger now, the roads straighter and wider, the peasants (should Lindbergh have spotted any, bending their backs in this beautiful garden) dramatically fewer. All of these changes have happened to most other western countries as agriculture has adopted new machines and new techniques to plough out hedges and plough in chemical fertilizers, to relegate agricultural labourers to models in museums of folklore. But in none of these other countries (even England, where the countryside supplies a large part of the national idea) would rural transformation be seen as such a blow to the nation’s identity. There would be nostalgia, of course, and ecological concern. In France, things go much further. Implied in Domenach’s story is the notion that, had Lindbergh been flying over some other, less top-quality country (Portugal, say, or Belgium), he might have nonchalantly tossed the paper into the windstream and had a good spit at the same time. But, as General and President Charles de Gaulle was fond of saying, France is … France. Even Lindbergh, high up in his frail aeroplane, and with a hundred other things to worry about, could see the specialness of the place and respect it.

Nobody doubts that France is special; certainly not the French. It is the largest, though not the most populous country, in Europe, and was once the most powerful. Its linguistic unity and its natural boundaries—France can be seen as a hexagonal fortress with sea on three sides and mountains on two—have given it a clearer identity, a less contested nationalism, than most countries which share a continent. Its history is alive with symbols, events, heroes and slogans which have not been shuttered in to the cobwebbed past—which form part of France’s grand and still unfolding story, as the French tell it to themselves. France sees itself as the birthplace of modern ideas and modern politics. The words of the American constitution are fine, but a snappier political credo than “Liberty, Equality, Fraternity” has still to be invented. The terms “Left” and “Right” as in left-wing and right-wing come from the seating arrangements in the National Assembly of 1789, when the pro-revolutionaries took the benches on the left side of the chamber. When Britain was manufacturing industrial and necessarily temporary objects, France was taking the lead in creating enduring, and now universal, abstractions. These ideals, which have dignified humankind, form part of France’s claim to its status as a universal nation. Add them to a cultural preeminence which has lasted through most of the last and the present century—think of the French novel and French painting in the nineteenth, French film in the twentieth—and a way of living notorious for its discriminating pleasure in philosophy, love, food, drink and fashion, and France’s claim to be the global model for civilization can seem unanswerable. “Ah, the French,” as the maxim goes on the northbound Channel ferry and the jet heading west to North America, “they know how to live!”

The paradox is that, while France has thought of itself as a tutor to the world, it has never really believed that it can be imitated. France is distinctive. It may believe, as the USA affects to believe (or simply assumes), that it is a country with values which can be franchised anywhere; but unlike perfumes, croissants and fizzy water—unlike, in fact, the Statue of Liberty—some items are not for export. There is the French soul; there is an even mistier item, la France profonde. Here normal rules do not apply. Sooner or later, in almost every area of human activity, one comes across the phrase: l’exception française. Exceptionally, France has retained several parts of its empire with little sense of post-imperial shame. Exceptionally, in the 1990s it began again to explode nuclear devices under one of these old outposts (when on British television a French government spokesman was asked why, if these tests were so safe, they were not conducted under French waters rather than in the far-away Pacific, he replied: “But Tahiti is France”). Exceptionally, it still regards French as the near-rival to English as the triumphant world language, when nearly four times as many people speak English (and three times as many use Spanish, and twice as many Bengali—or Arabic). Exceptionally, it is the most anti-American country in western (or for that matter eastern) Europe.

Nearly all of these exceptions flow from what is now the greatest exception of all: the power of the French state to regulate, subsidize, satisfy and inspire the lives and ambitions of France’s fifty-eight million citizens. The urge to standardize and centralize in France predates the Revolution, but it was the precepts of the Revolution, later codified by Napoleon, which allowed French citizens to feel that they played equal parts in a grand and unifying design. There would be standard courts dispensing standard law, standard schools teaching the same French history, standard forms of local administration sitting in headquarters with Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité standardly engraved in their stone. The language would be standard despite its many regional variants, the measurements (metres, litres, kilos) also. All standards would be set by the government in Paris. The state interfered but it also sheltered, and it became one of the glories of France, inseparable from the idea of the French way of life. Today France employs five million civil servants (proportionately five times as many as the USA) and industries run by the state comprise more than a third of the French economy.

The state, then, matters in France as it does in few other countries. It has never been, unlike in Britain or the USA, the bogey of the tax-paying middle classes. For one thing, it keeps a large part of the middle class in work; more than half the families in France depend on income from the state. For another, its regulations and subsidies have sustained the attractive variousnesses of France, which still produces four hundred (or a thousand; the boast varies) different kinds of cheese, and where a town of one thousand seven hundred people can contain (this is a real but typical example, from Beaujolais) three bakeries, a butcher, two grocers, a pharmacy, a jeweller’s, two clothes shops, a flower shop, two hardware stores, a newsagent, two garages, several bars, two hotels and two restaurants, one of which is mentioned honourably in the Michelin guide. In Britain and North America, supermarkets and shopping malls would have closed most of them, while politicians spoke airily about the free market’s great virtue of consumer choice.

But—reenter le malaise français—unemployment runs at 12.5 percent (double the British figure) and the centralized political and bureaucratic elites of Paris have become deeply unpopular and sometimes corrupt. And the nation state is now retreating throughout the world as a custodian of economies and cultures, abandoning its old remits to the capricious pressures of the global market. France has many phrases for this phenomenon—le capitalisme sauvage, le capitalisme dur (hard), le capitalisme Anglo-Saxon—and most of them could be heard in the elections of June this year, when France ditched its right-wing government and replaced it with an alliance of Socialists and Communists. On the face of it, the Left had capitalized on France’s prevailing moods of sinistrose (dismalness) and morosité (gloom) by promising that the two great forces for change in French life could be resisted: that France needn’t bow to Chinese wage rates or cut its public spending so that it could qualify for membership of the European Monetary Union. The Left pledged that it would create seven hundred thousand jobs, half of them funded by the state, and cut the statutory working week from forty to thirty-five hours with no reduction in earnings. In Britain, where Mrs. Thatcher expunged socialism from the politics of her Labour successors, there was mockery and also half a cheer.

France was being exceptional once again, struggling to preserve its cherished ideas of Frenchness. To the rest of the world, which has accepted globalism as an inevitability, the way things are and will be, it seemed as though its fourth-largest economy had recoiled in the face of modernity; that Fortress France was pulling up the drawbridge.

Where does French writing stand in all this? The awkward truth here is that, outside France and small pockets of Francophilia, hardly anyone knows. Name six living French novelists. Name six contemporary French novels. The French, of course, blame this neglect on Anglo-Saxon ignorance and hostility, but the truth (our truth, at least) is that, in literature, France pulled up the drawbridge long ago. Saul Bellow, writing in Granta in 1984, remembered how Paris had been the capital of international culture before the Second World War and how, on his first visit in 1948, the city had still seemed “one of the permanent settings, a theatre if you like, where the greatest problems of existence might be represented.” Thirty years later that feeling had gone. “Marxism, Euro-communism, Existentialism, Structuralism, Deconstructionism could not restore the potency of French civilization,” Bellow wrote. “Sorry about that.”

Photo Credit 01.1

Today in France there are arguments about the purpose of writing and a movement to put the world back into the book; it hasn’t escaped the French that the failure of French writing to sell abroad may have, to put it strictly in terms of the market, more to do with the producer than the consumer. Today a younger generation of writers is emerging which is more willing to look outward again. Many of these writers come from present or former French territories outside Europe, or are the children of migrants from those places. What their writing has in common is the desire to dramatize the deed rather than the thought, the story above the idea.

They reflect a France that is richer and more complicated than the beleaguered monolith of newspaper headlines, and which cannot be accommodated by old ideas of Frenchness, no matter what its government may say or do. France, we should never forget, has the largest Muslim community in Europe, between three and five million people, and Europe’s largest Jewish community (about seven hundred thousand people) outside Russia. A third of France’s population has ancestry from outside its borders.

Beneath the crust of its mythology, France has already changed. Why otherwise would Jean-Marie Le Pen and his anti-immigrant, anti-Europe, anti-American party, the National Front, exist? And why in June would they have won 15 percent of the vote? The real challenge to France is not the Anglo-Saxon world. It is to find a new and more plural identity, freed from the burden of glorious memory.

Dreyfus Is Decorated

 ON DECEMBER 22, 1894, in Paris, Jewish army captain Alfred Dreyfus was unjustly accused of treason for passing military secrets to the Germans. The Dreyfus Affair—often simply referred to as l’affaire—was “the most celebrated affair of the Belle Époque and the conflict that helped shape the political landscape of modern France,” according to Michael Burns, author of Dreyfus: A Family Affair (HarperCollins, 1991). L’affaire inspired writer Émile Zola to write an open letter addressed to Félix Faure, then president of France, which appeared on the front page of the newspaper L’Aurore on January 13, 1898. It was Georges Clemenceau, a member of the National Assembly and later prime minister, who had some influence at the newspaper and who titled Zola’s letter “J’accuse…!” The accusatory letter was scathing and landed Zola a libel lawsuit, but this was what he’d intended all along as he believed a public trial would force the military authorities to reopen the Dreyfus case, in turn revealing the military cover-up. L’affaire is also a key underlying theme in Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past, and through its successive volumes Proust reveals which characters are for or against Dreyfus. Patrick Alexander, in Marcel Proust’s Search for Lost Time: A Reader’s Guide to The Remembrance of Things Past (Vintage, 2009), notes that the Dreyfus Affair “ripped French society down the middle and created enmities and cultural divisions that were to last decades.” For journalist Theodor Herzl, a Hungarian Jew who was a Paris correspondent for the Austrian newspaper Neue Freie Presse, l’affaire would solidify his belief in a separate homeland for Jews. In 1896 he first explored this idea in a pamphlet entitled Der Judenstaat, and Dreyfus’s tragedy, according to author Michael Burns, “gave his dreams added urgency. If religious tolerance and racial harmony were impossible in France, the home of the Rights of Man, they were, Herzl was now convinced, impossible everywhere.” Herzl, considered the father of modern Zionism, organized the First Zionist Congress in Switzerland in 1897, and fifty years later the state of Israel was established.

An excellent book that I think approaches l’affaire in a never-before-examined way is For the Soul of France: Culture Wars in the Age of Dreyfus by Frederick Brown (Knopf, 2010). Brown (also the author of acclaimed biographies of Zola and Flaubert) details how the Dreyfus Affair can be understood only by fully grasping what happened in France in the previous decades: the revolution of 1848, France’s defeat in the Franco-Prussian War of 1870–71, the ceding of Alsace-Lorraine, civil war, the Paris Commune, and the rise of nationalism. By the late 1800s, two cultural factions emerged in France: moderates, who espoused a secular state, and militants, who were Catholic and royalist. “Science” and “technological advancement” were pitted against “supernatural intervention,” and these were reflected in two of Paris’s most iconic monuments, the Eiffel Tower and Sacré-Coeur. Brown notes that “these two forces converged as never before during the tumultuous nineties, in the Dreyfus Affair.” The uncertain atmosphere made “cosmopolitan,” “modern,” and “intellectual” dirty words among the very vocal militants. Anti-Semitism and xenophobia reared their ugly heads, and foreign-born Jews in particular were singled out for every kind of vice. (And indeed, the line drawn from this to Vichy, little more than forty years later, is perfectly straight: the Nazis first asked for all foreign-born Jews to be rounded up, and Vichy officials were only too happy to comply.) Brown delves deep into fin de siècle Paris and France, and he brilliantly reveals how the conflicting opinions of the 1800s were not resolved when Dreyfus was acquitted, twelve years after his arrest.

Here is the original article that appeared on the front page of the New York Times on July 22, 1906, detailing the official ceremony that marked his army reinstatement.

Dreyfus Is Decorated Where He Was Degraded
Cross of the Legion of Honor Pinned on His Breast.
Officers Congratulate Him
Ceremony in the Courtyard of the Military School–
An Attack of Heart Weakness Afterward.

Paris, July 21—In the presence of a distinguished military assemblage Major Alfred Dreyfus, wearing the full uniform of his rank, this afternoon received the Cross of Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. The ceremony, which took place in the courtyard of the military school, was rendered doubly impressive by being held on the very spot where the buttons and gold lace were stripped off Dreyfus’s uniform and his sword was broken twelve years ago.

The decoration of the Major assumed the aspect of a notable demonstration. His brother officers, who were prominent figures in various stages of the controversy, were among the spectators, and outside the circle of troops stood Mme. Dreyfus and the little son of Dreyfus, Brig. Gen. Picquart, who shared in the court’s acquittal of the famous prisoner, Anatole France of the French Academy, and Alfred Capus, and other literary men, who aided in Zola’s campaign for a revision of the first trial.

Previous to the ceremony Major Dreyfus was presented to Gen. Gillain, commander of the First Division of Cavalry, Gen. Percin, and other prominent officers, who warmly shook hands with him, testifying their satisfaction at his return to the army. The officers then repaired to the courtyard, where trumpeters sounded four calls announcing the ceremony.

The courtyard, from which the general public were excluded, as the ceremony was purely official, was encircled by two batteries of the thirteenth artillery, commanded by Col. Targe, who made the recent discoveries at the war office leading to the rehearing of the case against Dreyfus and his acquittal.

Gen. Gillain, accompanied by a number of army officials, entered the circle with trumpets and drums sounding. Major Dreyfus took up a position by the side of Col. Targe, while Gen. Gillain, stepping into the center of the circle, announced the decoration of Targe as a Commander and Dreyfus as a Chevalier of the Legion of Honor. Dreyfus and Targe, with their sabers drawn, then advanced to the center of the troops, taking a position before Gen. Gillain. The latter first bestowed the decoration on Targe, and then, turning to Dreyfus, the General said:

“In the name of the President of the Republic and in virtue of the powers intrusted to me, Major Dreyfus, I hereby name you a Chevalier of the National Order of the Legion of Honor.”

After pinning the cross on Dreyfus’s breast and felicitating him on his well-earned honor, the General gave the Major the military accolade, the trumpets sounding and the spectators applauding. Dreyfus briefly expressed his acknowledgements.

The troops then defiled before Gen. Gillain, Dreyfus occupying the post of honor on Gen. Gillain’s right, Col. Targe and the other generals being stationed on his left.

When the march past was completed, the trumpets again sounded four calls, announcing the close of the ceremony, which had lasted only about five minutes, and Dreyfus and Targe were immediately the center of an eager crowd of officers and friends. One of the first to reach Dreyfus was his little son, who rushed forward and threw his arms around his father’s neck, sobbing violently.

The officers who had not taken official part in the ceremony also came forward to greet their comrade. As Dreyfus received the well wishes of his relatives and the officers, his face, usually impassive, twitched with emotion, and it was with difficulty that he preserved his soldierly calm.

Turning to Anatole France, Dreyfus said:

“I thank you more than I can say, you who have always struggled for my cause.”

M. France replied:

“We merit no thanks, for what has been done was in the interest of right and justice. We felicitate you all the more since so many others who have struggled for justice have died before it was attained.”

Col. Targe terminated his felicitations by conducting Major Dreyfus to the officers’ quarters, where Mme. Dreyfus was waiting for him. The meeting between the husband and wife was most affectionate, the spectators withdrawing to permit them to be alone. Shortly after this Dreyfus, accompanied by his wife and son, emerged from the military school and entered a carriage. As the Major appeared the crowd in front of the main entrance gave him a hearty ovation, waving handkerchiefs and shouting “Vive Dreyfus!” “Vive la République!” “Vive l’Armée!”

The carriage was then driven swiftly in the direction of Dreyfus’s home. On reaching his residence the Major, who is affected with heart weakness, suffered a violent attack, but thanks to his strong will power the faintness soon passed away and he was able to receive Procurator General Baudouin and Brig. Gen. Picquart, to whom he expressed his sincerest thanks for their exertions on his behalf.

La Poste and I
BARBARA WILDE

BEFORE IT WAS fashionably renamed La Poste, the French postal system was called the PTT, which stood for Poste, Télégraphes et Téléphones. Though the average visitor to France will do no more than buy stamps and mail postcards at la poste, residents have much more contact there, with varying degrees of success, as the piece below attests. But la poste is also, according to Philippe Meyer in his revealing book A Parisian’s Paris, one of the best places in the city to really observe Parisians. Meyer was actually given permission, while working on his book, to sit behind the counter at a Paris post office, and he gained a new perspective on his fellow Parisians, both behind and in front of the counter. He notes that la poste “is the place par excellence for Parisians, irascible by nature, to find somebody to lay into. And not just any old body, but an individual who, when being told off, represents a telling-off of the Government, the Civil Service, and moribund Public Spirit all in one.” Dialogue between clerk and customer is “characterized by absurdity cloaked in diplomacy.” Diplomacy because one lady (as related in one transaction), “who hoped to be relieved of her anxiety even as she places the blame for the shoddy performance on the postal clerk, does her best to remain impersonal in her criticisms and polite in asking for help. It’s a question of making the person behind the window feel duty-bound toward her, and therefore guilty about the firm’s poor showing. But this guilt must be sparked and fueled without uttering a single insulting word, which would give the employee room to put an end to the discussion by insisting that the customer hurry up and make a decision on her own (‘I’m sorry, but people behind you are waiting …’).” A trip to la poste, therefore, can be an adventure.

The two most significant points to remember about la poste are that there are very few slow periods in a Paris post office and that Parisians are in a hurry. Therefore, visitors should be mindful of the etiquette code at la poste, just as it exists at a busy pâtisserie. Clients expect to move through the line quickly, and clerks expect clients to be prepared. Before you join the line—there will almost always be one, no matter what the hour—make sure you have euros handy so you don’t earn glares as you dig for coins in your bag. It never pays, even if you feel frustrated, to lose your temper. Be as deferential as you possibly can. If you’re mailing a box or a small package, none of the customers will want to be behind you as a package, of any size, is perceived as being time-consuming—don’t take offense if the clerks take other customers first and come back to you. If all of this sounds a bit like the Soup Nazi episode on Seinfeld, it isn’t meant to, though sometimes you might wonder.

When I lived in Paris as a student, I once tried to mail a box of books home, and I was chastised for not tying the string properly around one of the boxes designated for shipping books by boat. The clerk would not accept it until I had retied it to her satisfaction. It seemed, in those days, that each visit to the PTT was an exercise in humility, as the clerks were always the victors. But in fairness, in the years since, I’ve had nothing but uneventful, even pleasant, exchanges at la poste. And by the way, you can still place calls at the téléphonique part of some post offices today, which I think is a far better option than using a cell phone or a phone booth on a busy street. You wait your turn for a private (and quiet) cabine, and after you’re finished an attendant informs you of the sum you owe.

If, like me, you have a yen for stamps and old-fashioned letter writing, you may enjoy the Musée de la Poste, at 34 boulevard de Vaugirard in the fifteenth arrondissement (museedelaposte.fr). This little-known museum exhibits a wonderful collection of French stamps, letter boxes, postal uniforms, and virtually everything connected to the history of written communication in France.

BARBARA WILDE, a passionate gardener and cook who lives in France, is the founder of a wonderful company called L’Atelier Vert (frenchgardening.com), which is a “green studio” of great French gardening items for both garden and home. The L’Atelier Web site is filled with gardening information, tips, recipes, and some travel insights, as well as authentic garden-related products from all over France. “We started this company,” she notes, “with a commitment to offering only French-made products, and we hope to keep it that way. Don’t look here for ‘French-look’ garden urns made in China.” Wilde gets three cheers from me for that mission! Also the author of Growing Roses Organically (Rodale, 2002), she is currently working on a cookbook featuring recipes she created at her mas (farmhouse) in Provence.
Wilde writes a great Paris Postcard feature on her site, in which she shares “the frustrations, humor, and sometimes almost heartbreaking beauty of daily life from the perspective of an American expatriate living in Paris.” This one is among the best tales of a postal adventure anywhere that I’ve ever read.

 THE MINUTE I see any combination of golden yellow and navy blue, I think of La Poste. Those are the colors of the French post office, where I seem to be spending more and more of my life. Those of you who picture me whiling away a rainy winter afternoon with friends in a cozy Parisian café or discussing Franco-American relations in a smoky brasserie? Uh-uh. Like as not (and like it or not), I’m probably either at the post office or getting ready to go to the post office.

If neither of those options applies, I’m probably sticking close to home (-office) during the peak hours of postal delivery, in the hope that I won’t miss the drop-off of a package, a registered letter for Denis, or, God forbid, an item sent by Chronoposte, the “express delivery” arm of La Poste. Trying to outguess the French postal service on their delivery times is next to impossible. While the regular mailman delivers registered letters (and he comes twice a day), packages are delivered by a separate department. Packages or documents sent Chronoposte, on the other hand, are delivered by ghosts, which manage to slip unseen into the building to leave an avis de passage (notice of passage), even when I am bodily present in my apartment.

It is commonly accepted by the French public that one’s physical presence has little to do with whether or not an item requiring one’s presence will in fact be delivered. On the yellow avis de passage slips, there is not one but several reasons which may be checked to indicate why your package could not be delivered. If none of the choices seems to apply, the agent will feel free to add one of his own, inscrutably encoded in private acronym.

Needless to say, you will then have to hunt your package down yourself. In the simplest scenario for me, this involves going to my postal office branch, bringing along the yellow slip and a piece of identification. If by chance the item has been addressed to my company, I must also bring along my documents of its organization. Already I’m weighed down and I haven’t even picked up the package yet.

When picking up a missed delivery, I usually walk to la poste because there is absolutely nowhere to park nearby, except in the bus stop zone, which stretches the entire length of the building (the length of several buses). I take a shopping caddy with me as I have no indication on my yellow slip as to the origin of the item, so I have no way of judging what it might be or how heavy. I yank my empty caddy up the three steps of the post office, avoiding the eyes of the chômeur (unemployed person) who is allowed to station himself at the door, opening it for you in the hopes of getting a handout.

A wave of stifling heat blasts my face, and I immediately unwind the scarf from my neck. Three seasons of the year, the post office is heated to broiling temperatures. In summer it is not air conditioned.

I eye la queue, or line, gauging its length against the number of guichets, or windows, open and functioning, in order to estimate the probable length of my wait. Appropriately, there is a chair available for aged or ill persons who cannot remain standing this long.

One of the main reasons that the line in the post office advances so interminably slowly is that, in France, the post office offers financial services similar to those of a bank. This means that in any given line, over half of the customers are likely there for a financial transaction of some sort. And given the enormous seriousness and discretion required for any financial transaction in France … well, you get the picture.

Add to this the fact that any public transaction here requires the exchange of pleasantries, and the attitude of the French that, after they’ve waited through everyone else’s interminable transaction, they’re darned well going to take their time for their own turns, and—well, let’s just say you never go to the post office if you have a pressing appointment in the near future.

If the wait looks as if it will be lengthy, I take off my coat, so that perspiration won’t soak my inner garments while I wait, an eventuality that I know will add to my sense of panic at the amount of time I’m wasting. French people absolutely never remove their coats—not in the boiling-hot post office, not in the ovenlike department stores, not in stuffy, overheated Métro cars. This is one of the things that makes me realize I’ll never be French enough to be French.

On such a Monday last month, right before the holidays, I was standing in line, clutching a letter from Chronoposte in my hand. Somehow I had missed the delivery of a Wi-Fi network setup and ADSL modem sent by France Télécom, who had notified me in a very well-organized and efficient manner that the package would be delivered between nine a.m. and one p.m. the previous Friday.

During those hours I had stayed in the house, not even daring to take a shower, play the radio, or talk too loudly on the phone for fear of not hearing the door buzzer. I was especially anxious to receive this delivery because it meant that we could switch from our fiber-optic cable connection, which had been down an inexplicable almost 40 percent of the last two months, to a more reliable and even faster ADSL line. Of course, it didn’t arrive, so I was in line at the post office with my Chronoposte letter, feeling just the tiniest bit more anxious than usual as I couldn’t figure out why I had received this letterlike object instead of the usual yellow slip. I feared, well, some sort of irregularity which I might find confusing or be somehow unequipped to deal with (e.g. missing the necessary documents).

At last my turn came. I handed over my letter, explaining I was here to collect my Chronoposte delivery which I had missed! The postal service employee gravely took my letter and scanned it. Maintaining a carefully noncommittal expression, he typed the reference number of the delivery into his computer. While I watched anxiously, he scrolled and clicked around through several screens. Finally he looked up. “We don’t have this item,” he informed me. “You must pick it up at the Chronoposte depot.” He shoved the letter at me, his eyes already seeking the next customer.

“Wait!” I implored. “Where is this depot?”

“In the rue Cardinet,” he replied shortly.

Where in the rue Cardinet?” I asked, relieved that it was in a street which was just a couple of blocks away, but also worried because it is a very long street, stretching through several neighborhoods.

“In the middle,” he replied in dismissal. At which I planted myself squarely in front of his guichet, getting an inkling but no real idea of the extent of the saga that lay before me.

“Is it west or east of where we are now?” I asked, narrowing his choices. “What is the address?” Which, under the circumstances, seemed like a reasonable request.

“I don’t know, madame,” he answered, looking at me with the panic of a cornered animal in his eyes. “Here, I’ll give you their phone number.” And he scribbled some digits on a slip of paper. I looked at the number to make sure I could decipher the French handwriting and went on my way, muttering and cursing under my breath.

I went back home and maneuvered my car out of the interior courtyard into the street, heading toward rue Cardinet. Doing some quick thinking, I headed east, because the part of this street that heads west I go down almost every day and I’d never noticed a Chronoposte building. I drove slowly, eliciting honks and obscene gestures. I was trying to peer at all buildings, because it’s amazing how well hidden a building can be in Paris. After having gone some distance with no sign of Chronoposte, I pulled over to the side of the street and phoned information to get the number for said depot on rue Cardinet. “Ça n’existe pas, madame,” I was told. Not “No such number is listed,” but rather “It doesn’t exist,” setting the tone for the surreal events to follow.

I called the post office where I had just been and explained my situation to the person answering. After a hold of a few minutes, he returned to the phone. “It’s at 147 rue Cardinet, madame,” he informed me politely.

Somewhat mollified, I pulled back into traffic. When I got to the 120s, I seized a parking space. The rest of the search I would do on foot, as I was now in a rather bizarre industrial area near the enormous artery of train tracks that runs down into the Gare du Nord. Perhaps due to the fact that I was now in a warehouse area, the numbers on the street progressed incredibly slowly on the odd-numbered north side, while progressing busily into the 160s already on the more inhabited south side. (Beware if you’re ever in Paris searching for an address: the numbers on either side of the street may bear little or no relation to each other.)

After walking about a half a mile, I came to 143 rue Cardinet. At last, I thought, and walked a little farther past the entrance to a weird, grungy sort of industrial park, which was numbered 145. The next building with a number was 149. Where is 147?! I felt like wailing. I took shelter from the traffic noise in a doorway and redialed the post office. The same guy answered. After a brief hold, he apologized. “It’s 145, in fact, madame!”

Okay, at least I wasn’t going crazy. Inside the industrial park, I identified the Chronoposte terminal by the scores of yellow and blue delivery vans parked outside its loading dock. Less obvious was how to access the building, which seemed to admit only trucks. I walked around it, finding no entry door. Finally, passing a pollution-smeared office window behind which were living human beings, I gestured wildly. A man opened the window and let me in on the secret entry.

I found myself in the selfsame office, and wearily showed the gentleman who had guided me in my by now rumpled Chronoposte letter. A stern lady sat imperviously at a computer behind him. After scanning my letter, he showed it to her. They exchanged significant looks. “Where do you live?” he asked me.

I gestured at the address clearly visible on my letter and added it was just by Parc Monceau. Now eyebrows were raised and a slight smile played around his lips. Even the stern woman seemed on the point of snickering. Just what was so funny?

After checking a list, on which I was sure I saw my address, he gave me the explanation. On the previous Friday—the day my delivery was due—the driver had simply aborted his run, stealing the delivery truck with all its contents. It had not been recovered. My delivery had fallen victim to a disgruntled postal worker! It was so absurd that I had to laugh. We all shook our heads. They advised me to call France Télécom and report what had happened, and request another shipment.

I was back in my car headed toward home before I wondered why this information could not have been relayed in the original letter, saving everyone involved—especially me—a lot of time and hassle. There must have been some sort of weird face-saving involved. Would that this were the end of my story.

I duly reported to France Télécom. Another delivery was scheduled and not delivered. I think you’ll have to agree that at this point we must invoke déjà vu, in all its corny glory. Just rewind the tape back to the beginning and replay it up to where I’m at the Chronoposte depot, minus, of course, the address confusion. By now I’m feeling like a regular.

In the office, the same man takes my letter. He summons an employee from the non-office side of the place and they head out into the warehouse together. Twenty minutes later they come back, without the package, and begin an explanation of breathtaking complexity. I’m thinking about Occam’s razor when I’m brought up short by a glimmer of recognition in the eye of the office man.

“You’re the lady with the package on the stolen truck, aren’t you? Wait just a minute …” And he disappears for another five minutes, this time reappearing with a tattered box which has obviously been retaped shut using bright yellow and blue post office tape. “We found the truck! Most of the packages on it had been emptied, but yours wasn’t.”

Together we inspected the contents, which seemed to be intact and filled the dimensions of the carton. After a serious discussion on the best route to take, I decided to go with the bird in the hand, in spite of a slight risk of invisible damage. “Just refuse the new shipment when it comes!” my new friend cheerily advised.

Indeed! Refuse to trudge to the post office—or here!—to retrieve it, is more like it, I reflected as I navigated back to my car, clutching my precious if tattered cargo.

That evening, Denis asked me for the latest update on the arrival of the modem. I gestured at the dog-eared box on the floor, bearing its layers of blue and yellow tape like bandages over war wounds. “Let me tell you a story,” I began.

“Whenever I travel to Europe I’m astounded by the beauty you can find by simply walking down the street. The basalt blocks in Rome, the cobblestones in Aix-en-Provence … the roads themselves are perfectly laid puzzles for all to experience. In Paris, the roads wind and the buildings curve, soar, and expand. Everything feels a bit romantic and magical. The sign for the Métro pulls you in with its twists and turns; its lavish curls seem exotic and exciting. Strolling along the Seine in the evening from Notre-Dame to the Eiffel Tower, different parts of the city slip in and out of view. The Eiffel Tower radiates blue light, in contrast to the white light filling I. M. Pei’s Louvre pyramid. When it’s cool outside and I’m finished looking at the buildings and streets, my eye wanders to the beautiful people walking around and their wonderful scarves! And then I move on to the food: even something as simple as a croque-monsieur—toasted ham and cheese sandwich—seems divine. My favorite way to experience Paris is on foot with my eyes wide open and ready to take it all in! From the big museums and cooking schools to the streetside vendors and markets, there is always something to see and appreciate.”
—Lindsey Elias, children’s books marketer and Paris enthusiast

The French, Rude? Mais Non!
JOSEPH VOELKER

LOTS OF VISITORS to France have amusing language faux pas tales to tell. One common mistake, for example, is to say “Je suis plein” for “I’m full” after a meal—since the phrase Je suis plein means “I’m pregnant” (“J’ai assez mangé” is a better way to say you don’t want seconds). No matter how well one might know the language, it’s still hard to speak it flawlessly, as the author of this piece attests.

JOSEPH VOELKER is dean of the College of Arts and Sciences at the University of Hartford. Previously he held the position of associate dean at Franklin & Marshall College, where he also served on the English department faculty for many years.

 IT IS FUNNY that we Americans, in our current enthusiasm for cultural diversity, have collectively decided to be tolerant of all national and ethnic groups on the planet except the French. If a Bororo chieftain starts beating his wife in their hut, the visiting American anthropologist—though feminist to the core—will stand by and say nothing. But she’ll tell you a story that vilifies the French waiter who refused to bring her a wine list.

No doubt there are complex historical reasons for this acceptability of French-bashing: their arrogance as inheritors of a two-thousand-year-old culture, their irksomely deserved reputation for elegance and knowing how to live. And the fact that they are rude.

If we speak English, French waiters and hotel receptionists ignore us. If we try to speak French, they respond in English—and not always the best English at that. We are humiliated by this response. Why do they act so superior? Having recently spent a year living just outside Nantes, I venture a couple of amateurish explanations, in the spirit that tout comprendre est tout pardonner—to understand everything is to forgive everything.

First, the French language is simply much harder than the English. It certainly seems to have more tenses, moods, and genders, and it’s full of subtle and numerous irregularities. For instance, they don’t pronounce the f in oeufs (eggs); for deux oeufs you have to say “duhz uhh.” French is hard to articulate. The French mouth is far more tense than the English and makes its sounds farther to the front, where seemingly minor errors can create major shifts in significance.

French people, from elementary school onward, learn their language in an atmosphere of intimidation. As corporal punishment was the medium in which our ancestors learned Latin, so humiliation is the medium in which the French learn French. As a result, they associate speaking badly with stupidity. At a dinner party recently, a French friend who is by no means pedantic told me she couldn’t drink another glass of wine because it would cause her to make mistakes in the subjunctive.

Two of the best speakers of the French language in public life are François Mitterrand and Jean-Marie Le Pen, who correspond roughly in our political system to George H. W. Bush and Jesse Helms respectively. The two men are politically opposed on every count: Mitterrand is a socialist; Le Pen is a far-right xenophobe. But they share one attribute: they are able to employ the imperfect subjunctive spontaneously, in public speeches. It’s a risky business; errors will be reported in the press. But doing it wins them respect and even votes.

In any given year, the French middle schooler will have one course in French orthography, one in French grammar, and one in French literature. All are hard, and all present the risk of humiliation. One reason the French are generally not good at foreign languages and avoid learning them is that they have no desire to suffer the agonies of French class all over again in another tongue. The vast majority—who by the way are not Paris waiters—are shy about speaking English because they fear they will sound funny.

A French academic I know (he’s a Spanish professor) told me the story of a confrontation he witnessed in Paris. A retirement-aged American couple approached a Parisian and asked him where “Noder Daaame” was. The man responded by shrugging his shoulders and making a sound that I’m going to spell “PFFFFFT.” Then he walked away.

Photo Credit 4.1

Now, first of all, “PFFFFFT” is part of the French language. It means “I don’t know” or “I don’t understand.” It is neither rude nor hostile. Children respond to teachers and parents with it. It is utterly unrelated to our “raspberry,” which is spelled “PHGFPGHFPFRRRT.” The man made this gesture because he was a prisoner inside the difficult French phonetic system, in which Noder Daaame cannot by any stretch of the ear and brain be transformed into Nuhtr Dom-uh.

Okay, you answer. He didn’t understand and he said, “I don’t know.” But why did he walk away instead of trying to help?

Well, France has been invaded a lot. Caesar arrived in 52 BC. Then there were a half dozen Germanic and Hungarian migrations, followed by the Vikings, who stayed a century. And let’s not forget three modern German invasions within a period of seventy years. Sometimes it is difficult for people whose country has never been invaded and occupied to understand people for whom that is a central fact of their national history. It is not admirable on the part of the French that they are not crazy about foreigners, but it runs very, very deep.

Hence, when the French insist on answering our noble efforts at their language by speaking English, we should be more forgiving. First, these are tired people trying to get through a day’s work with dead-end jobs in the tourism industry. Second, they are sparing us from looking ridiculous, and thus embarrassing them in turn.

Early in my own sojourn in France, when I was by no means linguistically up to snuff, I found myself in the express lane of a grocery store. A tall young man challenged me—I didn’t catch all the words—for being in the wrong lane. I stammered out an answer, to which he replied, “Oh, m’sieur, vous ne parlez pas Français” (“You don’t speak French”). Instead of letting it go, I said, “Mais, essayez-moi” (“Try me”), unaware that the phrase is a standard homosexual come-on. Only his wife derived any enjoyment from the scene, and her “Oh, Jean-Pierre, oh la la la la la la!” will stay with me until I die.

Once I inadvertently told a French family gathered at the dinner table that my mother used to make wonderful jellies and she never put condoms in them (les préservatifs). Once I phoned a neighbor to ask directions to a famous château and, wanting to know if she thought it was worth a visit, tried to ask, “Vous l’avez vu?” (“Have you seen it?”). But the American phonetic system (and my untrained mouth) couldn’t distinguish among the different French u’s, and so what I actually said was “Vous lavez-vous?” (“Do you bathe yourself?”). She laughed inexplicably. An hour after hanging up, I realized what I’d said.

Just learning the body language to enter and order something in a bakery in France is a small challenge. Somehow we Americans never know where to stand. We end up dead center in the store, with everyone staring at us. I can offer some advice for negotiating small shops.

Begin with “Bonjour,” followed always by “m’sieur” or “madame.” (“Bonjour” by itself is rather abrupt—even, well, rude. In fact, I’d bet that that retired American couple approached that Parisian in a manner that seemed awfully brusque by his lights.) When you are handed your bag of croissants, say “Merci, m’sieur” or “Merci, madame.” And always say “Au revoir” or “Bonne journée” or something equivalent when you leave. If that’s all the French you ever speak, you’ll be thought of as an intriguingly polite American.

And if you want to try the language, don’t do it in the American Express office in Paris, for heaven’s sake. That poor guy may have spent the last six hours in that cage. Get out of Paris, off the beaten track, where the people don’t speak English, and where some of them will be delighted to chat with you. Try retired people: they’ve generally got the time, and therefore the patience, to let you practice.

If you need a subject, ask a question about food—or wine. Here’s a sure thing. Ask if the region produces good asparagus—or, if you’re near the coast, good oysters. These are questions so subtle, so complex, so rife with possibilities for a Frenchman to display a Cartesian clarity, that you will likely have a full hour in which you won’t have to do anything but listen. If you want to say “Ah, bon?” (“Oh, really?”) once in a while, go ahead. It’s thought to be encouraging.

It pleases me to remember that the story I used to tell most often in conversation with new French acquaintances was the one about the grocery store, the “essayez-moi” story. I suppose I was shrewd enough to see that it endeared me to them. It was the sort of moment that they, as French people, feared the most. It is hard to explain, but it got me over a bridge. It made me human, rather than another bossy, abrupt American. “Oh, le pauvre!” they would say—“Poor thing!”—laughing in genuine sympathy.

“I seem to have accidentally on purpose devised a tradition of celebrating my birthday (in February) in Paris. I’ve been there consistently over the course of the last ten years or so. Bon Appétit magazine is based in Los Angeles, and one of the best birthday trips was definitely along the lines of “You can take the girl out of Hollywood, but …” I managed to find out which brasserie was featured in Something’s Gotta Give, that delightful comedy with Diane Keaton, Jack Nicholson, and Keanu Reeves. Not only did my friend Stephanie Curtis track down the restaurant for us—Le Grand Colbert behind the Opéra—but she managed to reserve for Paul (Nagle, my life partner) and me the same table where Keaton and Reeves sat; there was a very discreet poster for the movie placed behind the banquette. That night we had all the classics—superb fresh oysters, perfectly cooked chateaubriand for two, pommes dauphine, profiteroles, Champagne, a great bottle of Margaux. I can’t think of a better place—or more delicious way—to mark the passing of another year.”
—Barbara Fairchild, food writer, editor, consultant, and former editor in chief, Bon Appétit

RECOMMENDED READING

EUROPE

For European history and a sense of the European community of which France is a member, all of these are excellent reads:

The Civilization of Europe in the Renaissance, John Hale (Atheneum, 1994).
Europe: A History, Norman Davies (Oxford University Press, 1996).
Fifty Years of Europe: An Album, Jan Morris (Villard, 1997).
History of the Present: Essays, Sketches, and Dispatches from Europe in the 1990s, Timothy Garton Ash (Random House, 2000).
The Penguin Atlas of Ancient History (1967; revised 2002), The Penguin Atlas of Medieval History (1968; revised 1992), The Penguin Atlas of Modern History: to 1815 (1973; revised 1986), and The Penguin Atlas of Recent History: Europe Since 1815 (1982, revised 2003), all by Colin McEvedy and published by Penguin. The concept for each of these paperbacks is brilliant: a chronological sequence of maps that illustrate political and military developments, which in turn illustrate history via geography. Each volume is remarkably fascinating, and the four volumes as a whole present an enlightening read. Maps appear on the right-hand pages while one page of explanatory text accompanies them on the left-hand page. Essential for history novices and mavens alike. (The Penguin Atlas of Diasporas, published in 1995 by Gérard Chaliand and Jean-Pierre Rageau is equally fascinating.)
Travel Guide to Europe, 1492: Ten Itineraries in the Old World, Lorenzo Camusso (Henry Holt, 1992). This unique book, published to coincide with the five hundredth anniversary of the discovery of the Americas, deserves more than short-lived appreciation. Italian historian Camusso presents ten real (or probable) journeys in chronological order, so that readers may imagine the passing of time and events. The first portion of the book gives an overview of Europe in the fifteenth century and includes descriptions of what travel was like by horse, river, and seaworthy boats, as well as of road conditions, inns, money, royal families, artists and artwork, and food and drink. Of the ten itineraries, Paris and cities nearby are featured in three. It’s interesting to note that in a population chart of twenty cities on the itineraries, Paris was then the fifth largest after Istanbul (four hundred thousand) and Florence, Naples, and Venice (each with one hundred thousand).

WORLD WARS

France lost nearly two million men in World War I, equivalent to two out of every nine, and if today’s younger generations visiting Paris feel a bit removed from this war, all they have to do is visit a smaller French city or town; just about every one has its requisite World War I monument. (And if World War II too feels remote, a visit to the Normandy American Cemetery, with its seemingly endless rows of grave markers, should solidify a very real and present link—and this is only one World War II cemetery of more than 120 in France.) Over the years I have found these monuments quite moving, and I’ve taken numerous photographs of them, probably enough for a book. As renowned military historian John Keegan notes, the list of names on these monuments is “heartrendingly long,” and even more heartrending is that you’ll often notice several names repeated, testifying to more than one death in the same family.

Keegan writes that “the First World War was a tragic and unnecessary conflict,” and “the Second World War, when it came in 1939, was unquestionably the outcome of the First, and in large measure its continuation.… In 1914, by contrast, war came, out of a cloudless sky, to populations which knew almost nothing of it and had been raised to doubt that it could ever again trouble their continent.” In any compilation of recommended books on the world wars, Keegan’s top the list, and are on my short list, too. Keegan has served as senior lecturer in military history at the Royal Military Academy in England and was named by the New York Times Book Review “the best military historian of our day.” His The First World War (Knopf, 1999) was widely acclaimed, and referred to by the Washington Post as “a grand narrative history [and] a pleasure to read.” An Illustrated History of the First World War (Knopf, 2001) includes some text from his previous World War I book and some that is new, as well as photographs, paintings, cartoons, and posters belonging to archives in both Europe and America.

Other world war reads I highly recommend include:

Bad Faith: A Forgotten History of Family, Fatherland and Vichy France, Carmen Callil (Knopf, 2006). I’m fascinated by the opening sentences of books, and the opening line for this one hooked me right away: “There are many things to make one wretched on this earth.” Callil’s childhood was the thing to make her wretched, and when she was twenty-one she tried to commit suicide by overdosing on sleeping pills. The London doctor into whose care she was admitted, Anne Darquier, once told Callil that “there are some things and some people you can never forgive.” In 1970, Callil arrived at Dr. Darquier’s for an appointment, but there was no answer at the door, and later that day she received word that Anne was dead. When she attended Anne’s funeral, she thought it was odd that Anne’s name appeared with the addition of “de Pellepoix,” and it would have remained only an oddity if Callil had not later seen the documentary Le Chagrin et la pitié (The Sorrow and the Pity) by Marcel Ophüls. The English subtitles contained Anne’s full surname, but in reference to a Vichy government official. Callil’s curiosity was piqued, and she began to investigate Anne’s story and that of her father, who had been a leading French anti-Semite before the war and who had added the fictitious “de Pellepoix” to his original name. He later became commissioner for Jewish affairs, and in July 1942 he was put in charge of the Vél’ d’Hiv’ (Vélodrome d’Hiver) roundup in Paris, which led to the deportation of nearly thirteen thousand Jews, almost a third of whom were children. According to Callil, Darquier “worked tirelessly to provide more Jews for deportation. He introduced the yellow star and took life-and-death decisions over the fate of the Jews of France.” She also informs us that after the German occupation of France ended in 1944, the épuration (purge) followed, and it was reported that a man believed to be Darquier was lynched by a mob in either Limoges or Brive. But apparently the mob got the wrong man. Callil’s book is a much bigger story than Anne’s and is a monumental work.
The Collapse of the Third Republic: An Inquiry into the Fall of France in 1940, William Shirer (Simon & Schuster, 1969). As you might expect, Shirer (The Rise and Fall of the Third Reich) has written another work that is thoroughly researched and revealing, and he carefully illustrates, point by point, how the fall of France was an absolute debacle. Until reading this, I hadn’t realized the extent of the utter chaos—the complete lack of communication among government officials as well as with the general public—that followed the news that the Germans were en route to Paris. In the words of the French historian Marc Bloch, “It was the most terrible collapse in all the long story of our national life.”
D-Day June 6, 1944: The Climactic Battle of World War II, Stephen Ambrose (Simon & Schuster, 1994). There is a plethora of books available about the D-Day battles, but none of them is as definitive as this. Ambrose, who passed away in 2002, was a World War II historian and the author of more than a dozen books, including a biography of Dwight D. Eisenhower; he also founded the National World War II Museum in New Orleans. He was devoted to D-Day scholarship and has been referred to as the premier American narrative and military historian. For this work he drew upon fourteen hundred oral histories from the men who lived through it. This is the story of the enlisted men and junior officers who freed the Normandy coastline, and it is not exaggeration when Operation Overlord is called “the most important day of the twentieth century.”
Decisive Battles of the Western World and Their Influence upon History, J. F. C. Fuller (Eyre and Spottiswoode, London): volume 1, From the Earliest Times to the Battle of Lepanto (1954); volume 2, From the Defeat of the Spanish Armada to the Battle of Waterloo (1955); and volume 3, From the American Civil War to the End of the Second World War (1956). Though only the third volume in this trio deals with the two world wars, all three books are worth your most determined efforts to obtain. Fuller wisely notes that it may be disputed whether war is necessary to mankind, “but a fact which cannot be questioned is that, from the earliest records of man to the present age, war has been his dominant preoccupation. There has never been a period in human history altogether free from war, and seldom one of more than a generation which has not witnessed a major conflict: great wars flow and ebb almost as regularly as the tides.”
Europe’s Last Summer: Who Started the Great War in 1914?, David Fromkin (Knopf, 2004). I was predisposed to like this as I’m a huge fan of Fromkin’s A Peace to End All Peace, and I wasn’t disappointed. Fromkin maintains that “the sky out of which Europe fell was not empty; on the contrary, it was alive with processes and powers. The forces that were to devastate it—nationalism, socialism, imperialism, and the like—had been in motion for a long time.” Interestingly, he asked students in one of his classes to pinpoint the first steps toward the war before 1908. Their responses, which included events dating back to the fourth century AD, illustrate “how many roads can be imagined to have led to Sarajevo.”
France Under the Germans: Collaboration and Compromise, Philippe Burrin (New Press, 1996). None other than Robert Paxton—an internationally recognized expert on Vichy France who served as an expert witness at the trial of Maurice Papon in 1997—referred to this work as “unsurpassed.” It’s thorough and exhaustively researched. Burrin, a Swiss historian, focuses on three sections of French society that accommodated the Germans: French government, civil society, and a small but significant circle of journalists, politicians, and “ordinary” French people who voiced collaborationist opinions. Burrin seeks to dissect the meaning of the word “collaboration” itself, as it was first used by Marshal Pétain in October 1940 and then passed into German as Kollaboration. No photos but a good map showing where the free and occupied zones began and ended.
The Great War: Perspectives on the First World War, edited by Robert Cowley (Random House, 2003). In his introduction, Cowley writes that a good argument may be made that the Great War was the true turning point of the century just past: “It brought down dynasties and empires—including the Ottoman, one of the roots of our present difficulties. It changed the United States from a provincial nation into a world power. It made World War II inevitable and the Cold War as well. It created the modern world—and that greatest of growth industries, violent death.” Cowley is founding editor of MHQ: The Quarterly Journal of Military History, and the thirty essays, articles, and letters featured in this volume originally appeared in MHQ. In addition to writing eight other books, Cowley has traveled the entire length of the western front, from the North Sea to the Swiss border.
The Greatest Generation, Tom Brokaw (Random House, 1998). Brokaw opens his acknowledgements by saying, “When I first came to fully understand what effect members of the World War II generation had on my life and the world we occupy today, I quickly resolved to tell their stories as a small gesture of personal appreciation.” If, amidst all the hype and publicity this book received, you missed reading it, I encourage you to pick it up—it’s truly wonderful, as are Brokaw’s other books, An Album of Memories: Personal Histories from the Greatest Generation and The Greatest Generation Speaks: Letters and Reflections, all published by Random House in hardcover and paperback editions.
The Guns of August, Barbara Tuchman (Macmillan, 1962; Ballantine, 1994). William Shirer, mentioned above, described this as “one of the finest books of our time,” and I completely concur. I love this book, and the paperback Ballantine edition includes a foreword by Robert K. Massie, who explains in his final paragraph that Tuchman’s opening paragraph took her eight hours to complete and was the most famous passage in the book. Massie’s own concludes with “By turning the page, the fortunate person who has not yet encountered this book can begin to read.” Sometimes I wish I were that fortunate person all over again! Tuchman, who passed away in 1989, not only wrote an outstanding book, but her own family’s history is intertwined with the early events of World War I: she was two years old when she and her parents were crossing the Mediterranean en route to Constantinople to visit her grandfather Henry Morgenthau, Sr., who was then ambassador to Turkey (her uncle was Henry Morgenthau, Jr., Roosevelt’s secretary of the Treasury for over twelve years). They witnessed British cruisers in pursuit of the German battleship Goeben, which successfully eluded the British, reached Constantinople, “and brought Turkey and with it the whole Ottoman Empire of the Middle East into the war, determining the course of the history of that area from that day to this.” Among the many references to France, the ones pertaining to Sedan, where the Prussian army captured Napoléon III on September 1, 1870, are especially memorable. Sedan, Tuchman notes, on the eve of war, was still very much in the French consciousness: “ ‘N’en parlez jamais; pensez-y toujours’ (Never speak of it; think of it always) had counseled [Minister of the Interior Léon] Gambetta. For more than forty years the thought of ‘Again’ was the single most fundamental factor of French policy.”
Paris 1919: Six Months That Changed the World, Margaret MacMillan (Random House, 2002). This multiple-award-winning book opens with this sentence: “For six months in 1919, Paris was the capital of the world.” Indeed it was, as the peacemakers—from the Big Four countries (Britain, France, Italy, and the United States) and Japan—met there every day to create the terms of the peace treaty concluding World War I. (Others who came to Paris as peacemakers included Lawrence of Arabia and Ho Chi Minh.) As Richard Holbrooke writes in his foreword, “The road from the Hall of Mirrors to the German invasion of Poland only twenty years later is usually presented as a straight line”; MacMillan, however, refutes this, arguing that the peacemakers have been unfairly blamed for mistakes that were made later. This is a fascinating and ultimately timely book for the twenty-first century, as some of the major problems we face today have their roots in decisions made in Paris in 1919: the Balkan wars between 1991 and 1999; the war in Iraq, whose borders reflect the rivalry between France and Britain; a homeland for the Kurds; tension between Greece and Turkey; and a severe situation between Arabs and Jews “over land that each thought had been promised them.”

Photo Credit 5.1

The Second World War, Winston Churchill (Houghton Mifflin, 1948). When my husband walked into the room as I was compiling this bibliography, he asked, “Why don’t you just tell everyone to read Churchill’s work and be done with it?” He and I are both enormous fans of Churchill, and his question makes a good point. This six-volume work is Churchill’s masterpiece, and Churchill was honored with the Nobel Prize in 1953. A boxed set of the volumes in paperback was published by Mariner Books in 1986.
A Soldier’s Story, Omar N. Bradley (Modern Library War Series, 1999; originally published in 1951 by Henry Holt). Novelist Caleb Carr is editor of this fine series—other volumes include Ulysses S. Grant’s Personal Memoirs and Theodore Roosevelt’s The Naval War of 1812—and in his introduction to the series he makes several notable points about military history. He reminds us of the general attitude in the United States during the sixties and early seventies, when admitting to an interest in human conflict was most unpopular. Military history enthusiasts, he points out as well, are often among the most well-read people we’ll ever meet, and they are also usually quite knowledgeable in discussions of political and social history. “The reason for this,” he explains, “is simple: the history of war represents fully half the tale of mankind’s social interactions,” and one cannot understand war without also understanding the political situation, cultural developments, and social issues of the time. Military history, Carr notes, “is neither an obscure nor a peculiar subject, but one critical to any understanding of the development of human civilization. That warfare itself is violent is true and unfortunate; that it has been a central method through which every nation in the world has established and maintained its independence, however, makes it a critical field of study.” Omar Bradley—better known as the “GI General”—is often referred to as the greatest military tactician of our time, and though this classic isn’t limited to World War II in France, the D-Day assault and the liberation of Paris are treated at length.
Strange Defeat: A Statement of Evidence Written in 1940, Marc Bloch (Norton, 1968). “Much has been, and will be, written in explanation of the defeat of France in 1940, but it seems unlikely that the truth of the matter will ever be more accurately and more vividly presented than in this statement of evidence,” wrote the New York Times Book Review. Bloch gives a personal, firsthand account of why France fell when faced by the Nazi invasion. This was written in the three months after the fall of France, before Bloch was captured, tortured, and executed by the Nazis.
An Uncertain Hour: The French, the Germans, the Jews, the Klaus Barbie Trial, and the City of Lyon, 1940–1945, Ted Morgan (William Morrow, 1990). Morgan is a Pulitzer Prize–winning journalist who was a young boy in Paris at the time of the armistice, when he and his family left for Spain and then the United States. He returned to France in 1987 to cover the Barbie trial for the New York Times Magazine, and he had access to thousands of pages of secret documents prepared for the trial, including hundreds of depositions that were never made public. Due to these documents, Morgan is able to provide much detail about major events and the everyday lives of residents under occupation. Morgan notes that there were more journalists in Lyon for the Barbie trial than for the Nuremberg trials, and that younger people, mostly students, stood in line every day for hours hoping to get one of the one hundred seats set aside for the public. He wondered why, and he answered, “Because the French had to look into this particular mirror, however distorted. Because there was a generation of young people that was still picking up the tab for World War II.”
Vichy France: Old Guard and New Order, 1940–1944, Robert O. Paxton (Knopf, 1972). Paxton’s is the single definitive volume on Vichy, and if you’re only going to read one, read this one. Paxton documents the inner workings of the Vichy government, the politics between Philippe Pétain, Pierre Laval, and François Darlan, and the surprisingly slow growth of the Resistance. The revelation that the Vichy government enjoyed such mass support came as somewhat of a shock upon the book’s publication in 1972, though it is accepted knowledge that the French wanted to avoid the destruction of France at all costs. Paris remains a beautiful city in part because of accommodation and collaboration, but the history of this period is far more complicated than that. As Paxton writes, “It is tempting to identify with Resistance and to say, ‘That is what I would have done.’ Alas, we are far more likely to act, in parallel situations, like the Vichy majority.… The deeds of occupier and occupied alike suggest that there come cruel times when to save a nation’s deepest values, one must disobey the state. France after 1940 was one of those times.”
The War Memoirs of Charles de Gaulle: The Call to Honour: 1940–1942 (Simon & Schuster, 1955); Unity: 1942–1944 (Simon & Schuster, 1959); Salvation: 1944–1946 (Simon & Schuster, 1960). I bought these hardcover volumes at a used-book store about fifteen years ago and I hadn’t even realized that De Gaulle had written them, probably because they do pale in comparison to Churchill’s volumes. I was sure they would be pure puffery, but I was only partially right—no one ever said De Gaulle was modest, after all—and I was quickly swept up in his certaine idée de la France (which included a certain place for him). De Gaulle’s voice was the voice of occupied France, and his memoirs stand alone. Carroll & Graf published a single paperback volume of this work in 1998.
World War II: The Encyclopedia of the War Years, 1941–1945, Norman Polmar and Thomas B. Allen (Random House, 1996). This is a great reference with more than twenty-four hundred entries by two military historians who are also coauthors of a number of other books and articles. The book is definitive, but its uniqueness lies in the fact that it “looks at World War II through American eyes,” which is why it begins in 1941. (Events that happened before December 7, 1941, are covered in a chapter entitled “Prologue to War.”)

FRANCE AND THE FRENCH

There are a staggering number of books available about France and the French, and I own a great many of them. To review them fully would require a separate volume, so I have kept my comments about them brief due to page-count considerations, and from time to time I will remark on them in greater detail on my blog.

Creating French Culture: Treasures from the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, edited by Marie-Hélène Tesnière and Prosser Gifford (Yale University Press in association with the Library of Congress and the Bibliothèque Nationale de France, 1995). The theme for the exhibit this book accompanied was to explore the relationship between culture and power in France, but I see this as nothing less than a history of France as told through its documents, manuscripts, books, orchestra scores, photographs, prints, drawings, maps, medals, and coins. Covering twelve centuries, these treasures are quite extensive, and include such offerings as: the “Letter of Suleyman the Magnificent to Francis I, King of France”; the first edition of The New Justine, or The Misfortunes of Virtue by the Marquis de Sade; the constitution of the “Thirteen United States of America” in French, printed at the behest of Benjamin Franklin; a map of the battle of Austerlitz; the handwritten “J’accuse” letter by Émile Zola in defense of Captain Alfred Dreyfus, before it was printed on the front page of L’Aurore; and five issues of Resistance: Official Bulletin of the National Committee for Public Safety, published from December 1940 to March 1941. A masterpiece.

Atlas Pocket Classics: France
This handsome boxed set is the inaugural edition in a series of travel classics published by Atlas & Company (2008). Novelist Diane Johnson introduces Travels with a Donkey by Robert Louis Stevenson, based on a notebook he kept while traveling in the Cévennes; Gleanings in France by James Fenimore Cooper, a rare work based on a collection of his letters home that detailed France in its last days of monarchy; and A Motor-flight Through France by Edith Wharton, who lived in Paris from 1911 until her death in 1937 (this is one of my favorite works).
The Discovery of France, Graham Robb (Norton, 2007). I wasn’t sure I needed to read another book about the history of France when this one was published, but I couldn’t ignore the praise it received: winner of the Royal Society of Literature Ondaatje Prize, Publishers Weekly Best Book of the Year, Slate Best Book of the Year, New York Times Notable Book of the Year, and comments like this one from the Mail on Sunday: “Certain books strain the patience of those close to you. How many times can you demand: ‘Look at this! Can you imagine? Did you know that?’ without actually handing over the volume? This is such a book.… It’s not so much a cool linear account as a mosaic, like the patchwork pays of France herself.” When I picked up a copy and learned that it was the result “of fourteen thousand miles in the saddle and four years in the library” and that “this was supposed to be the historical guidebook I wanted to read when setting out to discover France,” I positively knew I needed to read it. It is authoritative and dense (in a good way), but is not for the casual reader. Best of all is that, as Robb notes, the book “shows how much remains to be discovered.”
Fragile Glory: A Portrait of France and the French, Richard Bernstein (Knopf, 1990). To my mind, this is the best overall book about France after Fernand Braudel’s The Identity of France (below). Bernstein was the Paris correspondent for the New York Times from 1984 to 1987, and his book explores Paris and such broader topics as la France profonde (“deep France”), French children’s names, the myth of the anti-American, immigrants, politics, and the French struggle with their past. He concludes that France is still a nation greater than the sum of its parts, but that the French people are becoming more like everyone else, losing many qualities that made them different.
France on the Brink: A Great Civilization Faces the New Century, Jonathan Fenby (Arcade, 1999). Journalist Fenby has written for the Economist, the Christian Science Monitor, and the Times of London, and he was named a Chevalier of the French Ordre du Mérite in 1990. He’s been reporting on France for over thirty years, and in this work he presents a full array of the country’s ills and contradictions. Readers who haven’t kept up with the France of today may be alarmed to discover that some classic French icons—berets, baguettes, accordions, cafés, foie gras—are fading.
Harriet Welty Rochefort
French Toast: An American in Paris Celebrates the Maddening Mysteries of the French (1997) and French Fried: The Culinary Capers of an American in Paris (2001), both by Harriet Welty Rochefort and published by St. Martin’s, are two excellent books that approach the cultural differences between the French and Americans with wit and wisdom. Welty Rochefort, an American from the Midwest who is married to a Frenchman and holds both an American and a French passport, has lived in Paris for more than three decades. She is a journalist, having written for the International Herald Tribune, Time, and others, and is a journalism professor at the Institut d’Études Politiques de Paris (known simply as Sciences Po). She also writes a great online column, “Letter from Paris,” for the Paris Pages (paris.org).
Welty Rochefort’s position in a Franco-American couple allows her to be both a participant and an outside observer in French life. “Being neither fish nor fowl,” she writes, “has given me a constant comparative view of both life in the United States and life in France, as well as perceptions about the French that tourists rarely acquire. For example, life with the French has put a whole new meaning on the word complicated. The simplest situation in France suddenly becomes something extremely complex and detailed. The French attention to detail—from the way one cuts cheese to the color of one’s panty hose—has never ceased to fascinate me.” She relates in French Toast how she feels “rather more at home” with the French because of their refreshing lack of Puritanism while, on the other hand, when she visits the States she really appreciates the “civility of people who aren’t afraid to be nice to one another even if their families haven’t known one another for the past two hundred years.”
Also in French Toast she interviews her husband, Philippe, to share his points of view, which are sometimes eye-opening. And though French Fried is dedicated (mostly) to food, since “the most awesome experiences in France revolve around cuisine,” it is an equally revealing read. Harriet and Philippe maintain their own Web site (understand france.org), which I also highly recommend—it’s packed with suggestions for places to stay and eat, sites to see, dozens of tips, and just-like-home places in Paris for homesick Americans.
The French, Theodore Zeldin (Pantheon, 1983). Zeldin is better known for his major work France: 1848–1945, which I’ve not yet seen, but in this book he explains that he puts a lot of stock in humor because “nothing separates people more than their sense of humor.” As a result this book is filled with dozens of caricatures and cartoons, which help illustrate various themes. The final chapter, “What It Means to Be French,” is worth reading on its own. At its conclusion, Zeldin leaves readers who are determined to cling to a more grandiose definition of France with a remark by Pierre Dac, at the time one of France’s most popular comedians: “To the eternal triple question which has always remained unanswered, Who are we? Where do we come from? Where are we going? I reply: As far as I, personally, am concerned, I am me; I come from just down the road; and I am now going home.”
The French: Portrait of a People, Sanche de Gramont (Putnam, 1969). Sanche de Gramont, whose family is a very distinguished one in France, became an American citizen in 1977 and legally changed his name to Ted Morgan, an anagram of de Gramont. In addition to An Uncertain Hour, recommended previously, he is the author of more than a dozen books, including biographies of Churchill (a Pulitzer Prize finalist in biography in 1983) and William Somerset Maugham (a National Book Award finalist in 1982). Whether he’s writing under the name de Gramont or Morgan, his articles and books are engaging and he’s an astute binational observer. Though this book on France is more than forty years old, it’s still meaningful and accurate. “France,” de Gramont writes, “like Adam, had been modeled by the finger of God, and was thus perfectly proportioned and balanced (at equal distance between the equator and the Pole), fertile of soil, and temperate of climate.” By virtue of living there the people were chosen, and l’hexagone had everything the people needed or desired. “This was the European Eden, as the Germans knew when they coined the expression ‘As happy as God in France.’ ”

The Identity of France in two volumes, History and Environment and People and Production, Fernand Braudel (HarperCollins, 1988, 1989) Braudel, who passed away in 1985, has been referred to as the “greatest of Europe’s historians.” He believed strongly in the necessity of world history, and his genius was in his ability to link people and events across all time periods in a single sentence. He once came up with the phrase “economic geography” to describe his approach to history. Braudel is better known for his monumental work The Mediterranean and the Mediterranean World in the Age of Philip II (Harper & Row, 1972, 1974), one of my favorite books of all time, but this book on France is equally unprecedented and fascinating.
Alistair Horne
Author and historian Sir Alistair Horne, who was awarded the French Légion d’Honneur in 1993 and received a knighthood in Britain in 2003 for his works on French history, has so brilliantly and engagingly written about France that I felt he deserved a space all his own here. His trilogy of books devoted to the three Franco-German conflicts over a seventy-year period are unmatched. The first volume in the series is The Fall of Paris: The Siege and the Commune 1870–71; the second is The Price of Glory: Verdun 1916, which has been continuously in print for nearly fifty years; and the third is To Lose a Battle: France 1940. All were originally published in hardcover in the sixties but are now available in paperback editions by Penguin. A read of just one of these outstanding books is revealing, but all three provide an eye-opening view of how the events were all related.
La Belle France: A Short History (Knopf, 2005; Vintage, 2006) is the book I would recommend on the history of France if forced to name only one. As Horne wisely notes in his introduction, “The pursuit of harmony, though by no means always attainable, is what France is about.” La Belle France is enormously engaging and comprehensive, and happily both the paperback and hardcover editions include color illustrations. Horne acknowledges that ever since he wrote the Price of Glory trilogy, he’s been enticed by the “dangerously ambitious project of attempting a full-scale History of that complex, sometimes exasperating, but always fascinating country—France.” However dangerous the ambition, readers of this short history will be grateful for his effort.
A Savage War of Peace: Algeria 1954–1962 (Viking, 1978) is equally thorough yet conversational, and Horne again proves his ability to portray the big picture and the major players as well as the everyday lives of ordinary people living through events.
Mission to Civilize: The French Way, Mort Rosenblum (Harcourt, 1986). Rosenblum was a senior foreign correspondent for the Associated Press in Paris when he wrote this enlightening book. He now lives on a houseboat on the Seine and has written a number of other very good books on French topics. This work is specifically devoted to the importance of la mission civilisatrice—i.e. the “civilizing mission” of colonization—to the French. Rosenblum explains many aspects of the seemingly contradictory French foreign policy: the difference between a mauvaise foi and mauvais caractère; the Rainbow Warrior bavure (bavure being a hitch or foul-up, notably by officials or police, which was so common that a smooth operation was referred to as sans bavure); beurs and beaufs; Algeria; Vietnam; and le fast-food.
Portraits of France, Robert Daley (Little, Brown, 1991). As a naive étudiante in Paris in 1979, I did not realize why the rue Lauriston, where Hollins Abroad Paris had its school for thirty-plus years, was referred to as sinistre until I read Daley’s chapter “The Gestapo of the Rue Lauriston.” There I learned that 93 rue Lauriston was the site of an infamous den of torture and inquisition during World War II—not by the Nazis but by a gang of French convicts organized by Pierre Bonny and Henri Lafont. (Happily, although I have nothing but fond memories of my classes at no. 16, Hollins has since moved its school out of the sixteenth arrondissement altogether.) Daley has put together a miniature tour of French history and culture in this collection of twenty essays. While his portraits take readers to all corners of l’hexagone, even dedicated students of France may find some surprises here, as he preferred to find his stories in places where most readers haven’t looked before.
When in France …
Different from the lengthier tomes featured in this section are the following sources on France and the French. These are more like guidebooks, though the subjects are dealt with in more detail than in a traditional guidebook.
Culture Shock! France: A Survival Guide to Customs and Etiquette, Sally Adamson Taylor (Marshall Cavendish, 2008). Similar to—but not quite as thorough as—Polly Platt’s books below, this guide covers such topics as the French attitude toward pets, the “no” syndrome, dos and don’ts in restaurants, visas and work permits, queuing, office relationships, why businesses close for lunch, etc. Although some of the topics pertain more to people who plan to be in France for an extended stay, this is a really useful book even for short visits. Note that there is also a Culture Shock! Paris guide by Frances Gendlin (Marshall Cavendish, 2007).
France: Instructions for Use, Alison Culliford and Nan McElroy (Illustrata, 2007). Hands down, this is the best book of its kind and is indisputably indispensable. And it measures about 5 × 4 inches, so it’s perfect to bring along and carry around with you every day. It is rather remarkable that a book so small in size has so much packed into it, but there is truly not a practical topic missing. The little book’s subtitle says it all: The Practical, On-site Assistant for the Enthusiastic (Even Experienced) Traveler. Nan McElroy is the founder of the Instructions series (there are also volumes on Italy and Greece that are equally indispensable), each book being the publication she wished she’d had on her first trip. Instructions books have two components: the little handbook and the free “Planning Your Adventure” download (in this case from franceinstructions.com), which is most applicable in preparing for your trip, as opposed to consulting it once you’ve arrived at your destination. I love everything about this book, but I especially like the “Ten Tips for the Traveler Abroad,” which include some Collected Traveler pearls of wisdom: leave home sweet home behind; however much luggage you’re taking, it’s too much; don’t try to see too much in too short a time, whether in one day or ten; plan ahead for those experiences that are really important to you; and it can help to remember the Stones’ famous words “You can’t always get what you want.” Don’t visit Paris, or anywhere in France, without this portable handbook.
French or Foe? Getting the Most Out of Visiting, Living and Working in France (1994, revised 2003) and Savoir Flair!: 211 Tips for Enjoying France and the French (2000), both by Polly Platt and published by Culture Crossings, the company Platt founded in 1986 as a training organization for corporate managers and executives and their spouses. Both of these on-the-mark books are indispensable for anyone planning to live, work, or study in France, but they’re also essential for anyone who wants to really, really understand the ways of the French. No other books are as comprehensive as Platt’s, and in addition to hundreds of explanations, Platt offers her own personal tips, such as the Ten Magic Words (Excusez-moi de vous déranger, monsieur, mais j’ai un problème) and her philosophy of Persistent Personal Operating.
Speak the Culture: France: Be Fluent in French Life and Culture (Thorogood, London, 2008). Speak the Culture (speaktheculture.co.uk) is a new series that’s terrific, and the France edition was the debut title in the series. History, society, and lifestyle; literature and philosophy; art and architecture; cinema, photography, and fashion; music and drama; food and drink; media and sport—these are all covered impressively well, “so that you might get to know the country as one of its own citizens.”
Realms of Memory: The Construction of the French Past in three volumes, Volume I: Conflicts and Visions (1996), Volume II: Traditions (1997), Volume III: Symbols (1998), Pierre Nora (Columbia University Press). Originally published in France in seven volumes as Les Lieux de mémoire (Places of Memory), this stunning collection is easily at the top of my de rigueur reading list. The series is a singular publishing event, and was hailed by the Times Literary Supplement in London as “a magisterial attempt to define what it is to be French.”

Photo Credit 5.2

The Road from the Past: Traveling Through History in France, Ina Caro (Nan A. Talese, 1994). What a grand and sensible plan Caro presents in her marvelous book: travel through France in a “time machine” (a car), from Provence to Paris, chronologically, and experience numerous centuries of French history in one trip. I envy her and her husband, Robert Caro (the award-winning biographer of Robert Moses and Lyndon Johnson), for making such an unforgettable journey. As we progress chronologically, we visit the sites she has selected, which best represent a particular age and are also the most beautiful examples within each historical period. Seeing each period separately, and then all of them together in Paris, is “an incomparable experience,” as she concludes.
Sixty Million Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong: Why We Love France but Not the French, Jean-Benoît Nadeau and Julie Barlow (Sourcebooks, 2003). The husband and wife authors of this excellent book reveal new insights about the French on nearly every page, and I consider this de rigueur reading for every visitor to France. Nadeau and Barlow went to live in Paris for two years as correspondents for the New Hampshire–based Institute of Current World Affairs. They were focusing on globalization, specifically why the French were (seemingly) resisting globalization. But after one year, they realized that asking why the French were resisting globalization “was the wrong question about the right topic. The French were globalizing in their own way. But France needed to be understood in its own terms.” Their first breakthrough in reaching this fact was that it’s impossible to separate the past from the present in France. The French live very modern lives, but simultaneously they hold on to respected traditions, and they have proved that this works. Roquefort cheese is still made in caves according to a tradition that dates back twelve centuries; Napoléon introduced the Civil Code, which is currently used by most European nations; the metric system, high-speed trains, and the Concorde were developed in France; fourteenth-century châteaux and cutting-edge architecture both have a home in France; and when you make a purchase at just about any kind of shop, the staff will carefully and painstakingly wrap it up like a gift, even if it isn’t and even if there is a long line of customers behind you. Plenty more examples abound. Read this book and discover more, as well as a whole lot else about France and the French.
Travel + Leisure’s Unexpected France (Dorling Kindersley, 2007). This is an anthology of articles that have appeared in Travel + Leisure over the years, introduced by editor in chief Nancy Novogrod. (A separate volume on Italy has been published as well.) Novogrod describes the book as presenting “a view of the country’s pleasures that is at once panoramic and highly selective—pastoral, coastal, urban, encompassing both the old and the new.” If you clip articles like I do, you might not feel you need this book, but even though I have all these original articles in my files, I’m still glad I bought this volume—it’s far handier than searching through my massive files and, as I don’t often save an article’s accompanying photographs, it’s nice to see them here. Included in this collection are pieces on Paris, Versailles, the Loire Valley, the Paris Ritz, Normandy, and Coco Chanel.

FICTION

The Anchor Anthology of French Poetry: From Nerval to Valéry in English Translation, edited by Angel Flores, with an introduction by Patti Smith (Anchor, 2000).
The Blessing, Don’t Tell Alfred, and The Pursuit of Love, all by Nancy Mitford, all recently published in paperback editions by Vintage (2010). As Zoe Heller writes in her foreword to The Pursuit of Love, “It was, of course, Nancy who started it all. Without her, there would be no Mitford industry.” Mitford’s legendary British family is truly the stuff of novels, and she often based the characters in her eight novels on members of her family. She was the eldest of six sisters, one of whom was notoriously smitten with Hitler and who committed suicide shortly after Britain declared war against Germany, so Mitford had no shortage of intimate material. She was born in 1904, and in the 1920s, when she began writing novels, she was friends with Evelyn Waugh and others in his literary circle. Mitford moved to France in 1946 and remained there for the rest of her life, and her novels remind me of those by Barbara Pym, whose books I also love, in that the characters are so eccentric, quirky, and very British; but the reason these novels appear here is because each has a French or Parisian connection. Mitford’s biographies of Madame de Pompadour, Voltaire, and Louis XIV are held in high regard (though I’m sorry to say I have yet to read them). More details about her work and her life may be found at Nancymitford.com.
Complete Poems: Blaise Cendrars (University of California Press, 1993). Fans of Cendrars (né Frédéric Louis Sauser) will be pleased to know about a unique and wonderful book published by Yale University Press in 2009: a facsimile of La Prose du Transsibérien, a poem originally published in 1913 with accompanying artwork by a favorite painter of mine, Sonia Delaunay. This facsimile comes in a little package with a booklet of the English translation and a foldout of the poem (in French), and is modeled after an original copy of the work held at Yale’s Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library. The original edition unfolds to over six feet in length, and as translator Timothy Young notes, “If 150 copies were laid end to end they would be as tall as the Eiffel Tower.” Young explains this work “is noted today as much for its lyric beauty as for its unmatched composition of colors by Sonia Delaunay (née Terk),” and the intensity of the pigments survive in the Beinecke copy “with an astonishing vibrancy.”
The Château, William Maxwell (Knopf, 1961).
French Folktales, Henri Pourrat, selected by C. G. Bjurström, translated and with an introduction by Royall Tyler (Pantheon, 1989). One hundred and five legends culled from the rural provinces of France, which are, as Tyler writes in the introduction, “stories to eat with your pocketknife, among friends. They are delicious, and the days they taste of will never come again.”
France: A Traveler’s Literary Companion
Whereabouts Press, based in Berkeley, California, has recently introduced a series I’m crazy about called the Traveler’s Literary Companions. As travel writer Jan Morris asks, “What could be more instructive for the traveler—and more fun!—than to see a country through the eyes of its own most imaginative writers?” And the neat people at Whereabouts (I just know they’re neat) remind us that “good stories reveal as much, or more, about a locale as any map or guidebook.” (Incidentally, the name of the press also reminds me of a book called Whereabouts: Notes on Being a Foreigner by Alastair Reid [White Pine Press, 1995]. Reid, who lived for many years in Spain, wrote that “coming newly into Spanish, I lacked two essentials—a childhood in the language, which I could never acquire, and a sense of its literature, which I could.”)
What I especially enjoy about this series is that the writers whose fiction is featured are mostly all contemporary, so we are introduced to writers we might not find otherwise. The France volume (published in 2008) is edited by William Rodarmor and Anna Livia, and they include a most diverse group of writers in this edition, among them Christian Lehmann, Samuel Benchetrit, Frédéric Fajardie, Jacques Réda, Colette, Annie Saumont, Eric Holder, and Andrée Chedid. Rodarmor concludes that “these pieces are neither bonbons nor full-course meals. They’re more like hearty appetizers. You’re at a bountiful buffet, and you should feel free to come back for more.”
Madame Bovary, Gustave Flaubert (various editions).
One Hundred Great French Books: From the Middle Ages to the Present, Lance Donaldson-Evans (BlueBridge, 2010). French literature, the author notes in the introduction, has been an inspiration to readers around the world for the simple reason that it is “one of the great literatures on the planet and would surely be offered World Heritage status if such a category existed in the literary sphere.” Donaldson-Evans, professor of Romance languages at the University of Pennsylvania, has written a unique and worthy book, and I wish there were hundreds more just like this one for other countries in the world. This book is not necessarily an introduction to the best one hundred French books, but rather the emphasis is on the word “great.” The book is also not for specialists of French literature, but rather for the general reader who would like to learn about, or renew acquaintance with, some noteworthy books published in French. Additionally, the books selected had to be available in English translation, and lastly Donaldson-Evans admits to having a hidden agenda: to “whet your appetite to read or reread some or all of the works presented.” A number of the writers represented were born outside metropolitan France but have French as their primary language, such as authors from the Caribbean, Canada, Belgium, Switzerland, and African nations. And what a selection this is—everything from The Song of Roland, The Romance of the Rose, The Letters of Madame de Sévigné, and The Count of Monte Cristo to The Journal of Eugène Delacroix, The Flowers of Evil, Astérix, So Long a Letter by Mariama Bâ, The Sand Child by Tahar Ben Jelloun, and Monsieur Ibrahim and The Flowers of the Koran by Éric-Emmanuel Schmitt. (Plus, there are fifty other great titles recommended at the back of the book.) I, for one, discovered at least a dozen books I want to track down, but I like this book also for providing me with good outlines of titles I’d known of but haven’t read, which is sometimes enough, though not nearly as satisfying as what Roland Barthes calls “le plaisir du texte, the pleasure that comes from reading a great book and being stirred to the core by it.”

Reckless Appetites: A Culinary Romance, Jacqueline Deval (Ecco, 1993). One of my favorite quirky books, blending the fictional story of Pomme and Jeremy with literary history and almost one hundred recipes.
Scaramouche: A Romance of the French Revolution, Rafael Sabatini (originally published in 1921; various editions available). The opening line of this truly swashbuckling book is among the great opening lines of all time: “He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad.”
Literary Traveler
A unique and dangerously interesting Web site—it’s easy to start browsing and completely lose track of time—that I love is Literary Traveler (literarytraveler.com). Founders Linda and Francis McGovern say their mission is “to inspire readers and travelers to explore their literary imagination. We uncover the connections between great literature and great places, to inspire our readers to pursue their passions and help them become part of what they have read.” It’s a wonderful concept, and the site has been referred to as a “bookworm’s delight” by the Wall Street Journal.
Since 1998, Literary Traveler has been featuring great travel writing, and the online archive is quite large. I’ve found some really wonderful pieces on Paris and other parts of France and beyond. A basic subscription is free, although access to some content is limited; there is a monthly fee for a premium subscription, which offers full access to the site’s content. The Web site is very well done and was named to Forbes’s Best of the Web. Literary Traveler also offers tours, such as a Lost Generation literary tour in Paris and a French Resistance tour in Lyon.
Somewhere in France, John Rolfe Gardiner (Knopf, 1999).
Suite Française (2006) and Fire in the Blood (2007), both by Irène Némirovsky and published by Knopf. If Némirovsky’s fiction inspires you to want to know more about her real life, you may also like The Life of Irène Némirovsky, 1903–1942 by Olivier Philipponnat and Patrick Lienhardt (Knopf, 2010), as well as Shadows of a Childhood by Elisabeth Gille (New Press, 1998). Gille, Némirovsky’s daughter, was five years old when her mother was deported to Auschwitz, and she and her sister were hidden in the French countryside until the war was over. This novel—her third, and the first to appear in English—won the Grand Prix des Lectrices de Elle in 1997. Gille died in Paris in 1996.
That Mad Ache, Françoise Sagan (Basic Books, 2009). This unique edition also includes a tandem work, Translator, Trader: An Essay on the Pleasantly Pervasive Paradoxes of Translation by Douglas Hofstadter, the translator of the Sagan work. Printed in the reverse from the novel (starting at the last page), Hofstadter reveals some of his own thoughts about translations in general as well as revelations he had while translating Sagan’s novel, which was originally published in 1965 under the title La Chamade.

KEEPING THE ART DE VIVRE IN YOUR LIFE

A trip anywhere in the world can be transforming, but there’s no doubt that Paris (or anywhere in France, for that matter) is a particularly inspiring destination. France is seductive, and many people—myself included—have a great desire to incorporate many French lifestyle details into their lives. Happily, there are some great resources to help us Francophiles re-create a French spirit in our homes.

Bringing France Home: Creating the Feeling of France in Your Home Room by Room, Cheryl MacLachlan with photographs by Ivan Terestchenko (Clarkson Potter, 1995). MacLachlan worked for Esquire a few decades ago and traveled to Paris on business four to five times a year. Each time she returned to New York, she felt that she was missing something, though it wasn’t a case of wanting to move to France—she loved her job and her life. “The answer,” she decided, “perhaps was to try to make France a part of my day-to-day life back home.” So she did, but then she took this answer one step further, and examined the French lifestyle and explored just what it was that made France France. Discovering that “French life was in the details,” MacLachlan found it possible to bring France home to America. She takes readers on a tour of every room in a French house and offers tips galore; there are also chapters on the pleasures of the table and on resources.
Bringing Paris Home, Penny Drue Baird (Monacelli Press, 2008). “Step outside the door, glance around, and you know you are in Paris,” writes Baird, founder of the design firm Dessins and one of Architectural Digest’s top one hundred designers. “What is it about just being there that creates a stir within us? All at once, we are surrounded by physical beauty and by ethereal stimuli—the smell of the streets, the sky, the street signs, the light. Can the air really be that different? … This heightened sensual experience stays with us throughout our visit. Can we bring it home?” In chapters detailing architecture, fireplaces, furniture, paint and wall treatments, lighting, cafés and tabletops, flea markets, and collecting, Baird answers this question with a resounding yes. She spent every summer for many years in a region of France, but one year she and her family decided to stay in Paris for an entire year. They found an apartment in the seventh near her favorite Paris café, Bar de la Croix Rouge, which she refers to as “completely typical by French standards and outrageous by American” (it has fourteen-foot ceilings and eight fireplaces). She decorated her Paris apartment the way the French do: if you see something you really like, you buy it first and figure out where to put it later. The chapter on flea markets is particularly useful for anyone interested in buying items that require shipping—the transiteur (shipper), she notes, is as essential to the flea market as the vendors, and he or she will pick up your merchandise, pack, ship, insure, clear customs, and deliver. Baird wisely warns that bringing Paris home “is not as simple as adding lace curtains or provincial pottery to your décor. It is something much more subtle and much more personal. It has to do with the philosophy of European living and many characteristics.” By turning these pages readers embark on a stroll through Paris identifying both the tangible and intangible gems that may be brought home.

And a duo of titles published by Clarkson Potter from French style specialist Linda Dannenberg:

French Country Kitchens: Authentic French Kitchen Design from Simple to Spectacular, with photographs by Guy Bouchet (2008). When she thinks back on all the hundreds of homes she’s visited in France over the last twenty-five years, Dannenberg says, it’s almost always the kitchens she remembers most clearly and with the most affection. In these pages readers glimpse several kitchens in Paris and its surrounding regions as well as in other parts of France. These include Patricia Wells’s kitchen in her Provençal home, Chanteduc, and the kitchen of Michel Biehn, owner of La Maison Biehn, a renowned shop specializing in Provençal quilts, antiques, and tabletop items in L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. Among the most distinctive characteristics of the French country kitchens Dannenberg visits “is the acknowledgment of the past in some way, either as inspiration or to respect the kitchen’s ‘old bones’—the walls, the beams, the floors, the volumes—or to use old vintage elements, cooking tools, or art, even in a very contemporary kitchen design.” For nearly every kitchen featured there is an accompanying recipe that is representative of the region and was prepared in the kitchen. “It may be one humble, functional room,” notes Dannenberg, “but the French country kitchen reveals all you need to know about the art and joy of living in France.”
Pierre Deux’s Paris Country: A Style and Source Book of the Île-de-France, with Pierre Levec and Pierre Moulin, and photographs by Guy Bouchet (1991). This book appeared a few years after the groundbreaking and hugely successful Pierre Deux’s French Country, and it is as essential to Paris and the Île-de-France as its sister volume is to Provence. In addition to the design and decorating tips there is useful information for visitors. (Though some of the restaurant and hotel information may be outdated, these details may be researched online, as is the case for the shops, antique fairs, museums, and festivals.)

Readers who may be traveling on to Provence will want to read New French Country: A Style and Source Book (2004), in which Dannenberg picks up where she left off with Pierre Deux’s French Country more than twenty years ago, with homes, gardens, fabrics, furniture, pottery, architectural elements, decorative accents, and an excellent directory of French country sources in Provence.

The Age of Comfort: When Paris Discovered Casual—And the Modern Home Began, Joan DeJean (Bloomsbury, 2009). Though not the same kind of book as the others here, this is de rigueur reading about the fundamental ideas about homes and homelife in what the author calls the “Age of Comfort,” 1670 to 1765. DeJean notes that the architects, craftsmen, and inhabitants of Paris during this century “can be said to have created a blueprint for today’s home and the way we live in it.” The English words “comfort” and “comfortable” derive from the French word réconfort, help or assistance, and they only took on their modern meaning in the late eighteenth century (before this time they signified help or consolation, as in today’s “comforting”). Thomas Jefferson, DeJean tells us, longtime resident of Paris and great admirer of the eighteenth-century French way of life, was among the first to use “comfortable” in the new way.

DeJean relates a truly fascinating history of the first sofas, private bedrooms, bathrooms, and living rooms that could not have been accepted and embraced without visionary architects and interior designers, as well as the influence of two women, the Marquise de Maintenon (Louis XIV’s mistress) and the Marquise de Pompadour (Louis XV’s mistress). Interestingly, she relates that although the French have been recognized as style leaders for centuries, the phrase art de vivre “is no longer much in use.” DeJean is the author of nine other books on French literature, history, and culture of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries, all of which have somehow escaped my reading list. Among the titles is The Essence of Style: How the French Invented High Fashion, Fine Food, Chic Cafés, Style, Sophistication, and Glamour (Free Press, 2005), about which I will report on my blog.

This is the France the French know best and love best, their private France, the one they grow up with and have pictures of and instantly turn the clock to when no one’s looking, the France they’d like nothing better than to hand over to their children in the twenty-first century, the way it was just barely handed over to them after two world wars from those who inherited it from the nineteenth century—a France that, for all its turmoil at home and elsewhere, and for all the changes brought on by the Information Age and the Age of Anxiety, has managed to safeguard the daily rhythm and precious rituals of its day-to-day life, a France that always seems to trust it will be there tomorrow, a France that is always open for business and infallibly closes at very set hours. It is a France that, all told, is never bigger than a city block but that, within its narrow purview, easily explains why so many Parisians have never ventured beyond their own arrondissement or why so few have ever bothered to learn another language. They know every conceivable shade of the French subjunctive and know every meandering anonymous lane near home—and that’s good enough. Walk the block from the fromagerie to the boulangerie, to the boucherie, to the traiteur, to the marchand de tabacs, to the fruitier, crémerie, and charcuterie, and, come to think of it, you have walked the world.

—André Aciman, Entrez: Signs of France

PARIS

We think of Paris as la ville lumière, and it is unthinkable that the word could be attached to London, Rome or even Athens.
—ROBERT PAYNE,
The Splendor of France
I thought everyone should see Paris, if just once. Paris galvanizes you, makes you think of better things, be a better person.
—DEIRDRE KELLY,
Paris Times Eight
On a corner the smell of fresh croissants wafts from a patisserie. Time to get dressed. In a greengrocer’s shop two men are arranging fruit and vegetables as if they were millinery. An uncle in a café is looking through a magnifying glass at the stock prices in the morning paper. He doesn’t have to ask for the cup of coffee which is brought to him. The last street is being washed. Where’s the towel, Maman? This strange question floats into the mind because the heart of Paris is like nothing so much as the unending interior of a house. Buildings become furniture, courtyards become carpets and arrases, the streets are like galleries, the boulevards conservatories. It is a house, one or two centuries old, rich, bourgeois, distinguished … Paris is a mansion. Its dreams are the most urban and the most furnished in the world.
—JOHN BERGER,
“Imagine Paris,”
Keeping a Rendezvous

Photo Credit p2.1

Foreword to John Russell’s Paris
ROSAMOND BERNIER

YEARS AGO, DURING the summer between my junior and senior years of college, a classmate and I were in the employ of an elderly couple who owned a large, rambling country house in Connecticut and a stunning apartment in one of New York City’s premier apartment buildings. Our job was to cook, clean, and otherwise help maintain the country house, at which there were dinners, parties, and house guests all summer long. As a result, we had the opportunity to meet a number of notable people, including some neighbors, two of whom were John Russell, former art critic of the New York Times, and his wife, Rosamond Bernier, cofounder of the prestigious French art magazine L’Oeil, author, and lecturer.

Exactly thirty years later, when I was working on this manuscript, I contacted Rosamond. I was thrilled to be corresponding with her—I’d attended a few of her wonderful lectures at the Metropolitan Museum of Art over the years (though I was too shy to introduce myself, certaine that she would not remember me)—and I still marvel at the joys of six degrees of separation; you just never know who you will meet again in your life. I asked Rosamond if I might include an article she wrote about Braque in my book, but she said she was saving that one for inclusion in her own memoir. While I was considering what else I had in my files by her, I began paging through John Russell’s Paris (Harry N. Abrams, 1983, 1994), and I read for the five hundredth time Rosamond’s foreword. I said to myself, Ça y est!—that’s it!—why not feature this in full in the book? Rosamond granted me permission, and it is with great pleasure that I include her foreword to my favorite book on Paris ever written.

ROSAMOND BERNIER was a contributing editor for Vogue for many years and is the author of Matisse, Picasso, Miró: As I Knew Them (Knopf, 1991). She was decorated by the French government in 1980 and 1999 when she received the Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur in recognition of her contribution to French culture. Bernier was honored (along with her husband, John) as a National Treasure by the Municipal Art Society of New York in 2004, and she has given more than two hundred lectures at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Town & Country has referred to Bernier as “the Met’s living treasure,” and Leonard Bernstein wrote of her that “Madame Bernier has the gift of instant communication to a degree which I have rarely encountered.” Videos of her Met lectures are available exclusively through Kultur (kultur.com) and of these a great number feature French art topics, such as “French Impressionism: An Accessible Paradise” and “French Impressionism: Paris by Day and by Night.” Bernier is currently working on a memoir.

 When I first read John Russell’s Paris, I remembered particularly a very small room halfway to the sky in what was then my favorite Left Bank hotel. The rooms on the top floor of the Pont Royal are not as large as the ones lower down, but after trying some of the others I decided to perch above, where each room had a small balcony and you could step out through the French windows, and there in front of you was a clear view across Paris.

You could look down to the right and follow the rue du Bac on its straight reach for the Seine. Eighteenth-century town houses with flat stone façades—not yet sluiced clean on André Malraux’s orders—and elegant doorways lined one side of the street, rising to steep, humped roofs (gray tile, usually) bitten into by mansard windows with projecting triangular hoods. Across the river was the cluttered mount of Montmartre topped by the ridiculous but endearing white fantasy of the Sacré-Coeur. To the left was the Eiffel Tower and, still further, the gold-ribbed dome of the Invalides. Paris in my pocket.

This is where I came to live in the late 1940s when an American magazine sent me to Paris to report on the arts. The Pont Royal was cheap in those days, and it was near to everything that I wanted.

I was extraordinarily lucky to be starting a career at that time, when Paris was still a great center of intellectual and artistic energy. Art and life were beginning again after the long dark night of the German occupation. As Cyril Connolly once wrote about French writers, “Intelligence flows through them like a fast river.” The river was indeed flowing fast. The great figures of twentieth-century art were still in full activity. There were new magazines, new books, new art galleries, new plays, new hopes. Even new music was beginning to make its way.

Writers, publishers, art dealers from all over stayed at the Pont Royal or met there. Fred, the Swiss concierge, knew them all and kept a fatherly eye out for me. When I came home from work he might tell me, “Monsieur Skira left this morning to visit Monsieur Matisse in Vence. Monsieur Matisse didn’t sound a bit pleased when he telephoned.” (The Swiss publisher Albert Skira was chronically late and never answered letters, which infuriated the supermethodical Matisse.) Or he might say, “Monsieur and Madame Miró are arriving tomorrow from Barcelona for a week. Monsieur Curt Valentin is expected from New York Tuesday.” (Curt Valentin was the most imaginative New York art dealer of the day.) “Monsieur Stephen Spender came in from London and was looking for you.”

My room with its turkey-red carpet, brass bed, and nubbly white coverlet offered few amenities: one chair; an old-fashioned stand-up wardrobe; watery lights. The telephone was cradled uneasily on two metal prongs. Its function was mainly symbolic. Even the most exasperated jiggling rarely caught the attention of the standardiste. Often it was quicker to go out, buy jetons, and call from a café. Once, in a rage of frustration, I stormed down to confront the telephone operator face to face, only to find her standing in her cubicle, tape measure in hand, intently fitting a friend for a dress while her switchboard flashed futile appeals.

The bar, downstairs from the lobby, was conspiratorially dark, and filled with deep and overstuffed brown leather armchairs and sofas. This was my club, a quintessentially Parisian listening post where you went to find out who’s in, who’s out, and who’s gone away and will never come back. Publishers and authors negotiated over the new fashionable drink in France: “le Scotch.” The painter Balthus, more Byronic than Byron himself, would drop by and give me news of Picasso. Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir were regulars. At that time their fame and the provocative aura that surrounded the word “Existentialist” (practically nobody knew what it meant) had made them objects of universal curiosity, and they had abandoned their previous headquarters at the Café de Flore for the less exposed Pont Royal.

Later, when I had an apartment, I continued to see Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir, though neither of them cared much for Americans in general. Once when Sartre came to lunch he gave an offhand demonstration of mental agility: without stopping the general conversation he deciphered, one after another, the formidably difficult word-and-picture puzzles on my dessert plates.

Although I moved from the Pont Royal I never left the quarter. It was, and is, a neighborhood of bookstores and publishing houses. The grandest, Gallimard, is a few steps from the Pont Royal. I used to go to its Thursday afternoon garden parties every June; they were long on petits fours and short on liquor. Alice B. Toklas lived around the corner from my office and was always ready to receive the favored visitor with enormous teas. She was exquisitely polite, and even when very old she would insist on serving the guest herself. When I did her some small favor, she sent a charming note of thanks in such minute handwriting that I had to take out a magnifying glass to read it. Although her dress was monastic, she loved elaborately flowered hats, and would appear at my apartment, a diminutive figure under a herbaceous border that not even Russell Page himself would have imagined. She bought one such hat every year, she told me.

In Paris, you are on easy terms with the past. I would nod to Apollinaire, a favorite poet, as I went by 202 boulevard Saint-Germain, where he lived after coming back wounded from the front in World War I. I liked going by the Jesuit-style Église de Saint-Thomas-d’Aquin, set back from the boulevard, where Apollinaire was married, with Picasso as witness. On my way to Nancy Mitford’s I would go by 120 rue du Bac, a handsome house from which Chateaubriand set off every afternoon to visit Madame Récamier. Ingres, Delacroix, Corot, George Sand, Madame de Staël, Voltaire, Wagner (he finished Die Meistersinger in Paris) were among the friendly neighborhood ghosts.

It is often said, and with some reason, that Parisians are not hospitable to the foreigner. But what an abundance of generosity and hospitality came my way! I remember Picasso rummaging through the indescribable chaos of his vast studio on the rue des Grands-Augustins to try and dig up some drawings I wanted to publish. (He found them, I gave them back, and he never could find them again.) Fernand Léger lined up his recent work for me and asked which canvases I liked best. Pleased with my choice he whacked me jovially across the back: “You’re a good girl, you have a good strong stomach.” Matisse received me with all the books he had illustrated meticulously opened out so that he could explain in each case what problems he had solved, and how. The admirable, austere Nadia Boulanger (who taught so many American composers, beginning with Aaron Copland) invited me to her icy apartment on the rue Ballu to hear her latest protégé. The composer, Francis Poulenc, a bulky pear-shaped figure, was droll beyond words and yet indescribably poignant as he accompanied himself on a small upright piano and sang the soprano solo—that of a woman desperately trying to hold on to her lover—from his La Voix humaine. President Vincent Auriol took me on a tour of the Palais de l’Élysée after a press conference to point out the famous Gobelin tapestry. And I remember the ultimate Parisian accolade: a great French chef, the late René Viaux of the restaurant in the Gare de l’Est, named a dish after me.

A few years after my Pont Royal days I was starting my own art magazine, L’Oeil, in a minute office at the back of a cobbled courtyard on the rue des Saints-Pères. It was sparsely furnished—no pictures yet. The wall behind me was painted a shade of blue I like particularly, the color of a package of Gauloise cigarettes. When Alberto Giacometti came by for a chat, I said a bit apologetically that it must seem odd—an art magazine office with no art around. “Not at all,” he answered, looking at me across my desk. “You are a personnage sur fond bleu, that’s all you need.” (Giacometti characteristically tried to discourage us from running an article on him in the first issue. “It will ruin the chances of your magazine. No one will buy it if it shows my work.” Naturally, we paid no attention.)

For the magazine, we needed good writers and got in touch with a young English art critic whose weekly column in the London Sunday Times was indispensable reading if you wanted to know not only what was going on in England but on the Continent as well. It was clear that, unlike many critics, he loved art; he wrote about it with informed enthusiasm, and he wrote in crystalline prose. There was not a dull phrase to be weeded out in translation (French translation did wonders for some of our German, Dutch, Italian, and English-language contributors) and, what is more, he knew France and the French language very well.

We corresponded. He sent in his articles—on time. We met. Our conversations centered on ideas for features and deadlines. I had the intense seriousness of the young and the harassed, and I was producing a monthly publication on a shoestring as thin as the one Man Ray wore in lieu of a tie. In private life both of us were programmed, to use computer language, in other directions. Unlikely as it seems, I had no idea that while I was discovering Paris and the Parisians he was working on a book about Paris.

Some twenty years later, Reader, I married him. Only then did I discover John Russell’s book Paris (originally published in 1960). Here was sustained delight. No one else could combine the feel and the look, the heart and the mind, the stones and the trees, the past and the present, the wits, the eccentrics, and the geniuses of my favorite city with such easy grace.

Reading this book, for me, was like sauntering through the city where I had lived so long. By my side was a most civilized companion who casually brought all the strands together and made them gleam—not forgetting to stop for an apéritif and a delicious meal en route. The book was long out of print, and I felt it unfair to keep this to myself. I showed it to a publisher friend. He immediately agreed that others would enjoy John Russell’s Paris as much as we did. He suggested it be brought up to date, in an illustrated edition.

The author and I went to Paris to gather the illustrations. There was some confusion about our hotel reservation, and the receptionist at the Pont Royal apologized for giving us a small room on the top floor. Here the circle closes in the most satisfactory of ways: it was the identical room, no. 125, in which I had lived when I first came to Paris. The turkey-red carpet was now royal blue, the furniture was spruced-up modern, there was—is this possible?—a minibar. And there was a pushbutton telephone that clicked all of Europe and America into the streamlined receiver.

We stepped out onto the little balcony. Deyrolle the naturalist’s, where I used to buy crystals and butterflies, was still across the street. There were some new chic boutiques, but the noble eighteenth-century façades still stood guard over the past. We looked around happily: there they were, our cherished landmarks—the Invalides, the Église de Sainte-Clotilde, and the Eiffel Tower on the left, and on the right the former Gare d’Orsay, soon to be a museum of late nineteenth-century art, the Sacré-Coeur, and the Grand Palais.

The huge open sky overhead had drifted in from the Île-de-France. The bottle-green bus bumbled down the rue du Bac. The tricolor flew the way it flies in Delacroix’s Liberty Guiding the People. I was back again, this time in John Russell’s Paris.

“One of my favorite things to do in Paris is to go to the movies. Now, some may blame this on my Southern California upbringing, but to me it’s a true cultural immersion. Seeing a film there feels like a capital-E Event. Parisians relish films as they would a meal, paying close attention and settling in for their little rituals (which used to include uniformed ushers escorting everyone to their seats). Parisian film buffs continue to cherish the old while chasing the new: you might find a classic Hollywood screwball comedy, the latest blockbuster, a brooding new Euro-indie flick, and Les Enfants du paradis playing in a ten-block radius.
“Most of all, I love seeing a film at La Pagode in the seventh arrondissement. A grassroots effort saved this Belle Époque cinema from demolition, and the last time I went there it still had an atmospheric whisper of decay. It’s a delirious Far East fantasy of a building, with a curving roof and a shaggy, mysterious garden. Grauman’s Chinese Theatre has nothing on this!”
—Jennifer Paull, freelance writer and former Fodor’s editor

According to Plan—Maps of Paris
CATHARINE REYNOLDS

ALL PARISIAN HOUSEHOLDS have at least one well-worn plan de Paris, and I cannot imagine, even for a second, being in Paris without my own well-worn edition. In recent years I’ve actually been bringing this old edition, which dates from 1979, with me instead of the newer versions I have because it’s far preferable: there are numbered tabs for the arrondissements, making it faster to find what you’re looking for; I like the cover better; and the individual maps are larger and therefore easier to read. But a few years ago I discovered a large version (measuring about fifteen inches by fifteen) of the plan de Paris, and now I am completely prepared (if a bit compulsive)—I make copies of the arrondissements I know I will visit, and before I set out each day I mark my route with a highlighter. (And of course I also carry my small plan de Paris in my bag.) I am not necessarily advocating that you do the same, but I will advise that even if you have only a few days in the city, investing in a plan is essential for moving about skillfully and understanding Paris. “For in Paris,” as noted in this piece, which appeared in the July 1990 issue of Gourmet, “geography and history are inseparably entwined.”

CATHARINE REYNOLDS, who was most recently a contributing editor at the former Gourmet, also wrote the magazine’s “Paris Journal” column—which was honored with a James Beard Foundation Award in 1998—for more than twenty years. Reynolds is currently working on a biography of Nicolas Fouquet, Louis XIV’s finance minister.

 “To err is human, to stroll is Parisian.” The peripatetic Victor Hugo’s bon mot requires a word of counsel: visitors intent on enjoying Paris’s endlessly captivating cityscape need select their maps as painstakingly as their walking shoes. A certain sort of traveler is compelled to seek out a map of a new city upon arrival, if not in advance; a self- abusive breed disdains such support. In Paris hardened cartophobes eventually capitulate if they wish truly to understand the city.

Only pseudo-sophisticates recoil at the sight of “site seekers” squinting at unfurled foldouts, struggling to trace the path from picture gallery to supper. In Paris, map toting is no newcomer’s proclamation of ignorance. The most knowledgeable taxi drivers cannot know each of the city’s 6,417 streets offhand; instead they pack copies of Paris par Arrondissement in their glove compartments. (Those who don’t, warrant the curses of their hapless customers.)

But what constitutes a good map? Stationers and bookstores overflow with options. Flat maps tend to be cumbersome, and so small map volumes, albeit more expensive, are a sound investment. A straightforward choice for a short stay is the classic L’Indispensable, a 7 by 4½ inch navy volume that for the past fifty years has lived up to its name, with omnibus lists of government offices, embassies, schools, hospitals, museums, churches, department stores, theaters, movie houses, et cetera. L’Indispensable offers a thumb-indexed alphabetical list of streets followed by maps of each of the city’s twenty arrondissements, with some of the larger ones meriting two maps, as well as plans of the bewildering Défense business complex. A large folded map at the back allows an overview of the city and suburbs.

The privately owned L’Indispensable publishing house brings out thirty-five different map formats in five languages, but its maps suffer on the whole from old-fashioned graphics, which, however evocative, can be less than easy to read, as are most of the maps produced by the firm of A. Leconte.

Many Parisians prefer the maps put out by the thirty-year-old firm of Ponchet, most of which wear practical black plastic covers. Ponchet produces a volume similar to the standard, midsize Indispensable, as well as a 12 by 8½ inch Grand Paris, ideal for those daunted by the challenge of map reading in jackrabbiting vehicles. Their numbers must be growing, as this map has been a runaway success among Parisian motorists struggling to find either restaurants or friends living on obscure streets.

The beige ink favored by the firm of Plans-Guide Blay renders its maps less appropriate for walkers and drivers than for cipher clerks, who might also relish the challenge of the miniature typefaces and creative abbreviations in the staple-bound map booklets. These volumes offer the attraction of being compact, but they prove ultimately disappointing.

On the other hand, Michelin, whose yellow-clad road maps are models of the genre, puts out an exemplary if large 12¼ by 9¼ inch Atlas Paris par Arrondissements. Unhappily, Michelin’s smaller Paris map book does not divide its maps by arrondissement, which is slightly bewildering. The firm’s other Paris plans are of the bedsheet variety: They may facilitate plain sailing on the open road, but their expanse sends puzzled pedestrians flying.

Visitors might welcome a few bits of information that a born Parisian is assumed to have learned at his or her mother’s knee. For example, none of Paris’s popular plans explains the disarmingly simple formula according to which buildings are numbered—a formula that can orient one in the most unfamiliar neighborhood. Since February 4, 1805, Parisian houses have been numbered serially, with odd numbers on one side and evens on the opposite. On streets running at right or oblique angles to the Seine the numbers rise from the river; on streets running parallel to the river the numbers start from the upstream, or eastern, side.

Nor do map books alert visitors to bear in mind that their street indices are alphabetized by the streets’ full names. Thus the rue Édith-Piaf is found under E not P. But the rue Washington is called just that, so it is listed under W. Equally, a title is in some cases part and parcel of a street’s name, as in the case of the avenue du Général-Leclerc, and is therefore alphabetized under G. Streets named for saints demand special attention as well: in some rosters the rue Saint-Yves is listed before the rue Sainte-Anne; in others all the saints are heaped willy-nilly at the end of the S entries. Know your map—and, until you do, practice lateral thinking.

And don’t try to make do with a dated map. Existing street names can no longer be changed, but an average of twenty-five additions appear each year, if only to honor deceased local worthies with tree-shaded crossroads. In a busy year Paris has been known to gain as many as forty-two new streets—and Murphy’s Law decrees that the address you are seeking will be among the parvenus.

All of the maps here recommended rely on an arrondissement-to-the-double-page format that is both practical and culturally informative. The snail curl of the arrondissements is easily grasped, but the character of each quartier must then be mastered. By focusing the map reader’s attention on the individuality of each arrondissement—the haughty, established style of the 7ème, still known by its denizens as the Faubourg Saint-Germain; the louche air of much of the 9ème; the gritty charms of the 20ème, which set one to wondering how it came to be called Belleville; and the interminable turn-of-the-century sculpted masonry of the 16ème, largest of all the arrondissements—the maps offer a painless history lesson, for in Paris geography and history are inseparably entwined.

Geography provides Frenchmen another field in which to exercise their Cartesian heritage: their earliest lessons teach them to call their republic the hexagone because the French landmass conveniently corresponds to that shape. This uncanny adherence to geometry applies to the capital as well, for Paris has managed to maintain a near-circular shape for more than two millennia. Settled on a damp island in the Seine, Lutetia initially relied on the river for defense. As Paris expanded along the adjacent banks, its citizens realized that topography offered little protection; where it failed, geology came to the rescue, providing abundant local limestone for walls.

The Romans built the first wall; the early Capetians are thought to have built a second. These seemed inadequate to King Philippe-Auguste on the eve of his departure for the Third Crusade, so in 1190 he began to girdle his capital’s 625 acres with a thirty-foot rampart. It took twenty-three years to build but was very solid; vestiges still dot the older portions of the city.

A century and a half later the fortifications along the Right Bank were extended by Charles V to shield the city from the English; some three hundred years later additional works extended them to encompass more than twenty-five hundred acres until, in 1670, Louis XIV concluded that his victories were sufficient to guarantee Paris’s security and ordered Charles V’s walls demolished. The land thus freed was planted with trees, creating a “boulevard,” a word deriving, ironically, from the Teutonic word for “bulwark.”

But the kings of France had not had done with walls. Goods entering Paris had long been taxed at the gates of the city, but the new boulevards proved too permeable to fraudsters. In 1784 the tax collectors, or fermiers généraux, obtained royal permission to build a ten-foot wall around the capital:

    Pour augmenter son numéraire
    Et raccourcir notre horizon,
    La Ferme a jugé nécessaire
    De mettre Paris en prison.
    To fill their coffers
    And lower our horizon,
    The taxmen have judged it necessary
    To imprison Paris.

grumbled the wordsmiths of the Pont Neuf, who quickly assessed the popular resistance in near-palindrome, quipping that the fourteen-mile “mur murant Paris rend Paris murmurant” (the wall circling Paris renders Paris rebellious). Come the Revolution, no observer was startled when the forty-five strange and wonderful tax gates, designed by Claude-Nicolas Ledoux, figured among the mob’s first targets.

The fermiers généraux’s wall was only a tax barrier. In 1814 Louis-Philippe, the Citizen King, was persuaded to build a twenty-five-mile fortification encircling the tax wall and encompassing twenty-four suburban villages. The annexation of these villages and their nearly twenty square miles in 1860 nearly doubled Paris’s size.

In the twentieth century the walls finally came tumbling down (to the wrecker’s ball), and the Bois de Vincennes and the Bois de Boulogne were incorporated into the city limits. Each successive wall had corseted the capital’s growth. Having occupied less than five acres two thousand years previously, Paris had grown to a city of more than forty square miles, without much altering her rotund figure. Traces of each expansion, like the rings of a tree, can be seen in the street plan—in spite of Baron Georges Haussmann’s radial thoroughfares. The nineteenth-century wall was demolished in the 1920s, but its circuit yielded the land for the boulevards extérieurs that speed (or fail to speed) traffic around Paris’s periphery.

Baudelaire bemoaned the fact that “the shape of a city / Changes faster, alas, than the heart of a mortal.” The historical maps of Paris chronicle those changes, reaching beyond language to recount their times; as a bonus they are often masterworks of the woodcut maker’s and engraver’s arts. Thus it is not surprising that those caught up in a passion for Paris are seduced by the siren charms of these historical maps, many of which have been reproduced and some of which can be purchased for reasonable sums.

The Archives Nationales, at 11 rue des Quatre-Fils, catalogs tens of thousands of maps, but the earliest recognized contemporary map of Paris is the Plan de Munster, which declares itself “The Portrait of the City.” Produced, probably partially from memory, by a Franciscan monk named Sébastien Munster, this rather crude woodcut shows the Paris of about 1530, when François I was busy bringing the Renaissance to France. Like most maps in that era, Munster’s map served as a kind of civic ego trip, enhancing the fame of the city and its monarch in both French and Latin.

A decade later an enormous tapestry incorporated a map of the late-medieval city in a style derived from illuminated manuscripts, with the place names inscribed on curious, beguiling banners. In the eighteenth century the tapestry, purchased by the city, was hung to adorn the façade of city hall on the Feast of Corpus Christi and was used to cushion the floor at a ball celebrating the advent of a dauphin in 1782. By 1787 it was in tatters. Fortunately the Plan de la Tapisserie had been copied, and engraving plates made. The latter are today part of the sumptuous collection of the Chalcographie, a unique department of the Louvre’s Cabinet des Dessins, where fine engravings restruck from the original plates are available at quite affordable prices.

About 1551 another woodcut map appeared, the Plan de Truschet et Hoyau. This was an ambitious work covering eight sheets and cataloging the city’s 287 streets and 104 churches—which served a population of roughly 350,000 souls. Like most sixteenth-century cartographers, Olivier Truschet and Germain Hoyau could not content themselves with two dimensions; they were forever trying to provide a third dimension, to limn the elevations and to add a human element. Guilt must have affected the cartographers’ minds, because their cityscape included six cautionary gallows—occupied—not to mention plump-cheeked cupids blowing wind from the four corners of the map and drawing attention to the map’s river axis rather than compass orientation. The precision sacrificed to figuration was almost always art’s gain. The Plan de Truschet et Hoyau is often called the Plan de Bâle because the only extant original was discovered in the mid-nineteenth century in a library in Basel, where it had likely been carried by a traveler.

No modern chamber of commerce advised by the most go-go ad agency could outdo the purple prose of early map cartouche writers, as witness the etched Plan de Braun, published about 1572, on which a verse declares that “Paris is truly the royal house / Of the god Apollo.” Even more naive, the Plan de Saint-Victor is usually attributed to the engraver of architect Jacques Androuet du Cerceau. Only a single copy exists, but fortunately another engraver, Guillaume d’Heulland, copied it between 1755 and 1760 onto a copper plate that continues to yield purchasable restrikes at the Chalcographie. In 1609 both François Quesnel and Vassalieu produced plans for France’s first urbanist king, Henri IV; each was long on praise for both the monarch and the “marvels” of his capital, and short on accuracy, often depicting construction projects that were still on the drawing boards. Many such projects progressed no further, due to Henri’s assassination by the mad monk François Ravaillac, a crime that might never have succeeded—the king had eluded seventeen earlier attempts—but for the fact that the royal carriage was caught in a traffic jam on a narrow street.

Produced six years later, the splendidly engraved Plan de Mathieu Mérian includes an image of Henri’s successor, the young Louis XIII, as well as a number of his subjects. Jacques Gomboust’s 1647 nine-sheet map, peopled by 509 figures, decorated with engravings of six royal residences and the grander aristocratic seats, and framed by descriptive text, was a roll-up guide to the city and its environs. It omitted elevations of all but the most important structures and, overall, was considerably more accurate than its predecessors.

The Plan de Bullet et Blondel, drawn less than two decades later, reveals the city’s tremendous growth under Louis XIV and demonstrates the error in thinking that the Sun King neglected Paris in favor of Versailles. Drafted at the king’s behest and surrounded with long-winded text, this map features its authors’ own works, for architect François Blondel and his pupil Pierre Bullet had designed the triumphal gates at the Porte Saint-Denis, the Porte Saint-Martin, the Porte Saint-Antoine, and the Porte Saint-Bernard. Their architectural training is evident in their renditions of the gardens of the Louvre and Palais Royal; these lacy engravings define the term parterre en broderie. An inset map of the environs of Paris points to the court’s imminent transfer to Versailles.

The Plan d’Albert Jouvin de Rochefort is the most absorbing of all the seventeenth-century maps, alive with more than six hundred figures caught up in their daily lives: trudging to work, tilling the fields surrounding the city, hunting stag on the Plaine Monceau, dueling on Montparnasse, swimming in the river. For all its animation, Rochefort’s map, dated 1690, is remarkably scientific, oriented perpendicular to the meridian, that is, with the north at the top.

In the succeeding century, maps came into their own as administrative tools. In 1714 Marc-René, Marquis d’Argenson, lieutenant general of the Paris police, commissioned the Plan de Jean de la Caille, which enumerates every feature, from the 896 streets and 22,000 houses down to the city’s 25 horse troughs. This was the first map of Paris to divide the city into sections, illustrating each on a separate sheet.

The perceived value of such maps decided the city fathers to pioneer a municipal map office. The Abbé Delagrive, renowned for his devoted work with “rod, chain, and theodolite” and for the handsome geometric map that had resulted, was named Géographe de la Ville and quickly undertook studies of urban water distribution. Delagrive marketed his own map “in the Rue Saint-Jacques … at a wigmaker’s”; today we can purchase a restrike of it at the Chalcographie.

The historic map of Paris best known to the world, the Plan Turgot, recalls to me the New York City of the seventies, when I frequented Le Cygne not only to feast on its raspberry soufflé but to thrill to eighteenth-century Paris, for the restaurant’s walls were papered with blowups of the map.

The Plan Turgot is shrouded in misconceptions. First of all, unlike most maps of its time, it is known by the name of the man who commissioned it, Michel-Étienne Turgot, not the man who surveyed it, Louis Bretez. Descended from Norman nobility, Turgot was the capital’s prévôt des marchands, a royal appointee responsible for administration, which office he held for an unusually long eleven years. Little surprise that he decided to blow his city’s horn and commission a splendid plan. (Turgot’s third son, Anne-Robert-Jacques, for whom Michel-Étienne is often mistaken, was to become Louis XVI’s reforming minister of finance.)

The Plan Turgot was a map out of sync with its time, drawn in the great seventeenth-century tradition of the bird’s-eye view. By 1734 Delagrive and his imitators had already accustomed the map-reading public to precise renderings on which one could number the very pillars of the churches. And the Cassinis, the family who put French cartography on the map, were just about to begin triangulating for their famed topographical map of the kingdom.

The purpose of Turgot’s map—which it serves to this day—was as retrograde, and eternal, as its style: to broadcast the wealth and beauty of Paris. If Delagrive could draft sanitation plans worthy of the council chamber, Bretez would execute a vast plan worthy of the drawing room. Promised a fee of ten thousand livres and armed with a permit that granted him ready access to all the city’s buildings to make sketches, Bretez, a member of the Académie de Sculpture et de Peinture and onetime professor of architecture and perspective, blazoned the capital across twenty sheets, which, end to end, measure 10½ by 8 feet. Bretez knew full well that he was bucking the trend and perhaps betraying his training in perspective, for he apologized in print for his license, explaining that without forcing the perspective he would have lost some of the most interesting monuments of the city. At a time when maps had come to be oriented perpendicular to the meridian, the Plan Turgot has the east at the top, to allow Bretez the bravura chance to detail the façades of the churches, almost all of which face east. Sadly, Bretez didn’t live to see the final engraved product of his labors.

The Plan Turgot is the least rare of eighteenth-century maps because twenty-six hundred copies were run off. Some of them were mounted on linen; the remainder were bound. These were sent as presents to destinations as distant as Constantinople and China. Further copies have been (and remain) available, as the copper plates ended up at the Chalcographie. However inaccurate topographically, Bretez’s map, which attempted to portray each and every building, makes this a fascinating architectural study—and enormously decorative.

Purists criticized the Plan Turgot from the moment of its appearance, but the public loved it, drawn in by the lack of topographical progression and left happily lost in the city. The map’s popularity continues today, with reduced-scale facsimiles eagerly purchased from the Bibliothèque Nationale’s shop in the rue des Petits-Champs, as well as from myriad souvenir shops.

But in the Age of Enlightenment scientific mapping necessarily had to triumph over figurative mapping, however artful. In Paris the apostle of the former was a Burgundian architect named Edme Verniquet, who, having purchased the venal office of road surveyor, discovered that none of the available maps was accurate enough to allow him to align buildings. He devoted half his adult life to devising such a mathematically exact plan. From 1783 until the royal purse grew too empty in 1788, Verniquet enjoyed Louis XVI’s patronage in paying the sixty surveyors and two hundred helpers who charted the city at night by torchlight to avoid disrupting traffic. The project captured the imagination of le tout-Paris, who flocked to gape at the draftsmen laboring in the gallery of the Couvent des Cordeliers on a seventy-two-sheet map that, assembled, measures 16½ by 13 feet. The Plan Verniquet captures the last portrait of the Paris of the ancien régime before so many of its convents and churches were demolished and Napoléon’s gloire was imprinted on the urban fabric.

Verniquet was a hard act to follow. His plan was the basis of almost all Paris maps in the first half of the nineteenth century until Baron Georges Haussmann commissioned a new survey in 1853. But that is not to say that nineteenth-century maps are not fascinating and charming. Engineer Aristide-Michel Perrot’s 1834 Petit Atlas Pittoresque des Quarante-Huit Quartiers de la Ville de Paris offers alongside its maps delectable aperçus of the life of the city; the map of the twelfth arrondissement, the Quartier du Jardin du Roi, which became the Jardin des Plantes, is accompanied by an illustration of its caged giraffe, which drew all Paris in wonderment.

Haussmann definitively established the Office of the Plan de Paris in 1853, appointing Deschamps to head it. The maps he and his colleagues produced were accurate and full of purpose, if perhaps less romantic than their predecessors. Literacy and cheap, colorful reproduction spread maps far and wide—but did not devalue them; as the Plan de Munster indicates, maps, regardless of design, production technique, or purpose, are “Portraits of the City.”

Those bitten by the historical-map bug should repair to the Chalcographie, handsomely installed under the Louvre’s pyramid, for restrikes or to the Bibliothèque Nationale’s smart boutique at 6 rue des Petits-Champs, 2ème, for reduced-size facsimiles. Those seeking period maps might address themselves to one or another of the specialist map dealers, firms like Louis Loeb-Larocque, at 31 rue de Tolbiac, 13ème, or Sartoni-Cerveau, at 15 quai Saint-Michel, 5ème—both streets of which they can locate in their Paris par Arrondissement.

Il connaît Paris comme sa poche (he knows Paris like the back of his hand or, literally, like his pocket) is high praise indeed. Those who merit such praise will have often whipped a map from pocket or pocketbook to find their way.

Why I Love My Quincaillerie
BARBARA WILDE

THIS IS ANOTHER Paris Postcard that Barbara Wilde shared on her great Web site, L’Atelier Vert, introduced previously (on this page). I, too, love the French quincaillerie, and I’ll repeat how I also love Wilde’s postcard missives. Each one is unique, containing some wonderfully written passages. Here’s a superb one from one of her earliest postcards, “What Am I Doing Here?”: “I love to think that after I am gone, Paris will remain the same, imperceptibly absorbing the drop of my life into the river of humanity that has flowed through it for so long. The permanence of Paris comforts me.”




 “VOUS désirez, madame?” I felt like rubbing my eyes. I had just walked through the door of my local hardware store, and this most professional of shopkeeper greetings had just been uttered by a pixieish nine-year-old in long braids. She regarded me through the lenses of her glasses with every bit as much aplomb as the sixty-something matron who usually minded the store. Her serious demeanor bespoke the gravity and importance of the interaction we were about to embark upon, while her courteous phrasing implied the profound respect she held for me, her customer. In short, at age nine, she already had a perfect grasp on the quintessence of the complex socioprofessional skills that comprise the Parisian shopkeeper’s art.

In fact, she turned out to be the daughter of the owner of this wonderful shop. Dad was behind a different counter, busy with another customer. Daughter was already on holiday break (it was just before Christmas) and was apparently in training to inherit the family business. The manager of the shop, the lady I was familiar with, was present but remained discreetly in the background of my interaction with the young lady.

I duly explained that I was looking for an oval Le Creuset casserole to give as a gift to a friend who had admired mine. The young miss led me over to a pyramid of these very casseroles stacked in diminishing sizes. Then she courteously stood aside to allow me to inspect them at close range. (I delicately refrained from asking her name for a host of complex French reasons. If I asked her name, I would be forced to tutoyer her, using the familiar form of address, as she is a child, and I didn’t want to spoil our roles with this familiarity. Also, one would never ask a shopkeeper one had just encountered for the first time for her name.)

When I’d made my choice, the junior shopkeeper expertly extracted it, took my credit card, and plugged it into the electronic transmitter, then, discreetly averting her eyes, handed me the gizmo so that I could enter my PIN. Meanwhile, the manager wrapped up my purchase. Before I departed, I congratulated the owner of the shop on the impeccable professionalism and courtesy of his daughter. And I left musing about how much I love this store, and why.

Paris has two types of hardware stores: the quincaillerie, specialized in actual hardware, and the droguerie, not a drugstore but a shop specialized in paints, cleaning products, glues, and other household potions. My neighborhood store combines both these product lines. Merchandise is densely stacked and hung floor to ceiling and must often be sought with a ladder. Overstock is housed in the cellar, which is accessed by a trapdoor and its attached steep steps.

So what’s so unusual and wonderful about these stores? The first thing is the incredibly diverse variety of products they stock. My store has everything from oilcloth to shopping caddies, picture-hanging supplies, cleaning supplies, myriads of lightbulbs (a nightmare in France because there are about twenty different noninterchangeable types), an excellent cookware line, candles, shoe-care products, trash cans … it just goes on and on. I’m sure they must stock thousands of different items, and all this in an area smaller than the average American master bedroom.

The diversity of cleaning supplies alone is mind-boggling. A product exists for every imaginable purpose—and for many purposes that you have never imagined. Did you have a laundry accident and now all your husband’s white T-shirts are pink Not to worry, the détacheur pour linge teint par accident will get them white again. Are lime deposits clogging your washing machine? Here’s just what you need.… You have a spot on a leather handbag? Well, what kind of leather is it? Ah, here’s the correct product to solve the problem.…

The French householder is by nature profoundly frugal. She prefers never to throw anything away, and considers it a serious responsibility to take excellent care of what she has. Doing this in the French manner—that is, with a mania for complication, specificity, and diversity—requires thousands and thousands of different products. Of course, no one but the shopkeeper could possibly know which of them to recommend for a particular situation.

This fact leads to the second thing I love about my quincaillerie/droguerie, an aspect that is part of the very definition of this type of store in Paris. I can walk in with the most bizarre problem—stain on clothing, spot on my wood parquet floors, whatever—and the shopkeeper will listen patiently and attentively to my plaint. Then she will climb her ladder and extract one of her thousands of products, the one which has been designed to take care of just my problem. She will then explain to me in a most serious and authoritative manner precisely how to use the product, admonishing against common pitfalls along the way.

Meanwhile, I’m feeling comforted because 1) I thought I was the only person dumb enough to have this problem, and it turns out I’m not; and 2) I’ve just been presented with a clear solution. When the shopkeeper looks at me to see if I want to buy the product, of course I do! I absolutely love this process of knowing that when I walk into my hardware store, my problem will be solved—kindly and professionally.

The second reason I love this store is that it meets all my imaginable needs. My store is never out of a product. Whenever I occasionally summon the courage to venture into a “superstore” (grande surface), that dehumanizingly vast acreage of mostly useless junk imported from China, and have wandered the endless aisles in my demoralizing quest—all my senses bombarded with garishness—invariably the item I’m looking for is out of stock.

So how do these small, independent wonder-stores manage to persist in Paris? The answer is simple, and yet unthinkable in the United States: superstores are not allowed to exist within the city limits. This is a measure deliberately taken to protect the diversity of the thousands of small shops that make Paris the place we love, as well as the livelihoods of all those shopkeepers. In the provinces, the effects of the superstore metastasis have been just as devastating as in the United States. It’s becoming difficult to find an old-time quincaillerie in French country towns. Sadly, village squares are often marked by the vestige of a storefront, where once—before the appearance of the local Brico Dépôt—thrived a magnificent country hardware store densely stocked with all the accoutrements of daily country life, including a smiling, knowledgeable, and courteous shopkeeper familiar to all.

Do the products at my local hardware store cost more than the mass-market junk in the grande surface? Of course they do! But I can’t even find these products in the mass-market stores, let alone find someone who will explain to me how to use them. I’m oh so happy to know that, just a three-minute walk away, I’m sure to be able to solve my latest household catastrophe, in a calm, orderly, stressless atmosphere, surrounded by interesting, quality products, and administered to in a courteous and highly personalized way by a shopkeeper I know. In short, I happily pay more to preserve this intensely human and agreeable experience of my daily life. Call it the price of civilization.

Thirza’s Take on Paris
THIRZA VALLOIS

If—MON DIEU!—I was told I could bring only three books with me to Paris, I’d choose the trio of Around and About Paris guides by Thirza Vallois, who has lived in Paris for more than forty years. To quote from her author bio, “She knows Paris stone by stone and has read every book of note about its history and development.” I knew when I picked up volume one, From the Dawn of Time to the Eiffel Tower (which covers the first through seventh arrondissements), that this was what I wanted to accompany me around the city.

Each volume in this hugely informative series—the other two are From the Guillotine to the Bastille Opera (eighth through twelfth arrondissements) and New Horizons: Haussmann’s Annexation (thirteenth through twentieth)—is organized numerically by arrondissement, representing the way the city grew, and each arrondissement is presented with an overall introduction followed by a detailed walk. Readers and walkers will experience the major sights and special out-of-the-way places and will learn what makes each quartier distinct. Vraiment, these books are remarkable for the details Vallois imparts—and even if you use just one volume and follow just one walk, you will be amazed by how much you’ll learn.

THIRZA VALLOIS contributed this piece to the Web site Bonjour Paris (bonjourparis.com; see the Bonjour Paris entry in the Miscellany for more details). She is also the author of Romantic Paris (Interlink, 2003) and Aveyron: A Bridge to French Arcadia (Iliad, 2007).

  For those among you who don’t know my writing, some background information may be of some interest. Contrary to what my readers and interviewers tend to assume, my involvement with Paris was not born out of passionate love for the city but out of exasperation, and writing about it was a therapy of sorts. As a matter of fact, Paris was a huge letdown when I first disembarked at the Gare du Nord: as a naive teenager I expected a Vogue magazine Paris, not a grotty working-class neighborhood! Besides, nobody had prepared me for the ill-tempered city it was in those days. Given my distaste for the place on my first visit, I cannot for the life of me say why I came back and why I never left. I am not quite sure what magnetic force drew me in, but having mulled over this for so many years, I believe it was the amplified density of human experiences that ultimately makes Paris the unique city it is and eventually gets under our skin.

I started writing about Paris in order to figure out the place and its people and thus get them out of my system. Rather than tackle them frontally, which would have kept me in a confrontational mode, it occurred to me that by exploring the city I might reach the same objective in a more fun way. This led to an overwhelming, fifteen-year project which I had not anticipated, by the end of which time I had been living in Paris for over thirty years. As I traveled deeper and deeper into its different facets, it got hold of me insidiously and I became increasingly indulgent towards its flaws and appreciative of its virtues. Rather than writing about it as therapy, I found myself embarked on a lifelong quest, because although I know it very well compared with most people, one never knows Paris fully, which is one of its beauties. There is always more to dig and probe into, which to me is part of the addiction. To quote the ultimate Paris lover, Victor Hugo, “He who looks into the depths of Paris grows giddy,” the epigraph I chose for my books because I could think of no other that would sum it up better.

Paris has opened up to the world since the days of Victor Hugo, and in the last ten or fifteen years has engendered a pleasanter and more laid-back species of denizens. Thus, for example, although the Bonjour greeting is still very much alive, the more formal Madame, Monsieur, or Mademoiselle bits are used more loosely. Most Parisians speak at least some English, making the city more user-friendly to foreigners. In short, present-day Paris is less blunt but increasingly bland, no longer polluted by the smoke of Gauloises but watered down instead by Starbucks coffee.… (Remember, the first McDonald’s made its appearance already back in the 1970s.) You can’t have it both ways.

The gentrification of Paris, however, is not a recent phenomenon. As a matter of fact, the regeneration of Paris was on the agenda of the French Revolution. It was tackled timidly by the following regimes and radically under Haussmann. Haussmann, however, did not eradicate the entire existing urban fabric. Much more of the old city was preserved than people realize. His genius consisted in weaving together the old and the new seamlessly, thus preserving an overall cohesion. Although the bustling medieval flavor was destroyed in some places, elsewhere it survived. Closer to us it was helped by the fact that, unlike London, Paris was not bombed by the Germans. Nevertheless and inevitably, old neighborhoods do get cleared over time, either because they genuinely threaten ruin or because of the pressure of the speculation market. In twentieth-century Paris such regenerations began in the 1960s and would have begun earlier if it hadn’t been for the war years. One must bear in mind, however, that the younger generations have no reference to the past, they do not bemoan (unlike me), and they live comfortably in the present environment, spending time at Starbucks preferably to traditional French cafés.

I am currently preparing an electronic version of Around and About Paris and rewalking Paris for that purpose. It’s a mixed experience of joy and sadness: the joy of seeing an old courtyard, bistro, or artisan’s shop still standing unchanged; the sadness over those that have disappeared. Such is life. Besides, this was also the case in the 1980s when I began to write my books. Like all organic life, Paris is a city in the making and in constant mutation, and some of it is good. Renewal also brings hope and freshness. Some places look better than they used to, some new gardens are exquisite, here and there a shabby wall has been embellished by an artist unknown to me. And despite the reign of commerce and electronics, there are still so many bookshops in Paris! It is heartwarming to see that it remains a place of intellectual pursuit and debate, inhabited by a population that actively cares about politics and societal issues. Have no fear—the constant aggravation caused by strikes and protest demonstrations is proof enough that the passionate Gallic spirit is still very much alive in its capital city as well as in the rest of the national territory.

Proust’s Paris
SANCHE DE GRAMONT

MARCEL PROUST SEEMS to be more celebrated now than he ever was, and the publication of recent books such as Marcel Proust’s Search for Lost Time by Patrick Alexander (Vintage, 2009), The Year of Reading Proust by Phyllis Rose (Scribner, 1997), and How Proust Can Change Your Life by Alain de Botton (Pantheon, 1997) attests to the popularity of Proustomania. Many Proust fans who visit Paris also make a pilgrimage to Illiers-Combray, just south of Chartres, where Proust’s celebrated tome, In Search of Lost Time is set. Readers of my first Paris edition may recall a New Yorker piece I included in that book called “In Search of Proust” by André Aciman. In it, Aciman refers to the “Prousto-tourists” who come to the former town of Illiers, which added Combray to its name officially in 1971, on the centennial of Proust’s birth. Aciman also notes that the town of Illiers-Combray sells about two thousand madeleines, the famed cake at the heart of Proust’s story, every month. The village also has a very lovely Marcel Proust museum, which was originally the home of Proust’s paternal uncle and aunt and in fact is also known as Aunt Léonie’s House. In her excellent account of the museum’s restoration and history, “Marcel Proust at Illiers-Combray” (Architectural Digest, October 2000), Judith Thurman accurately notes that “all great writers have an exceptionally fine-tuned sense of place, but none, surely, has ever been finer than Marcel Proust’s. The architect of that sublime memory palace, In Search of Lost Time, is inseparable from his own décors, real and imagined.”

But, as anyone who’s read Proust’s literary masterpiece knows, Belle Époque Paris is at the center of the story. Here is a unique piece, originally appearing in Horizon, that is both a brilliant encapsulation of the novel and an annotated geographical legend to the city of Paris just before and after the turn of the twentieth century. The original article was accompanied by a map, because as the Horizon editors noted, the sense of reality in Proust’s novel is so compelling that “its characters seem as authentic as the Paris streets in which they come and go.” I encourage readers to look at a detailed map of Paris and locate the sites that Sanche de Gramont has pinpointed below. Again to quote the Horizon editors, “Such a mixture of the imagined and the actual would surely have pleased Proust. His own central character, in love with Gilberte Swann, once his childhood playmate, ‘had always, within reach, a plan of Paris, which … seemed to [him] to contain a secret treasure’—for in it he can find the street where his beloved lives.” Readers can imagine that they have “been allowed to glance at Proust’s carnet, or address book, where the novelist has jotted down some of the prominent landmarks of his vast work.”

SANCHE DE GRAMONT, introduced previously, is also the author of many books under the name Ted Morgan. Morgan is the author of, among others, Valley of Death: The Tragedy at Dien Bien Phu That Led America into the Vietnam War (Random House, 2010), FDR: A Biography (Simon & Schuster, 1985), My Battle of Algiers: A Memoir (Smithsonian, 2006), A Shovel of Stars: The Making of the American West, 1800 to the Present (Simon & Schuster, 1995), and Maugham: A Biography (Simon & Schuster, 1980).

 WITH THE EXCEPTION of summer vacations in Combray, when the narrator was a child, and in the Channel resort of Balbec, where as a young man he meets Albertine, later his fiancée, and of a short trip to Venice with his mother, all of Remembrance of Things Past takes place in Paris. The presence of the city saturates the novel the way moisture saturates the air and determines its atmospheric pressure.

I can think of one other city so present in a great modern novel, and that is Joyce’s Dublin. But unlike Joyce, who delivers Dublin in a single day, Proust makes Paris unfold over a period of roughly forty-five years, from 1875 to 1920. To read Proust is to observe the flowering and decline of a period in the capital’s history, for the debacle of 1870 and the horrors of the Commune were followed by years of determined amusement known as la belle époque. Those who had expected a wake found, instead, a celebration that was interrupted only by another war.

Proust was born in 1871 in a Paris already physically transformed by the Baron Haussmann, who destroyed entire neighborhoods to build long, straight thoroughfares like the rue de Rivoli, who crossed the Seine with five new bridges, and who built the Halles central market. The transformation continued during Proust’s life. The avenue of the Opéra linked the rue de Rivoli with Garnier’s opera house, inaugurated in 1874. The young Proust saw the Eiffel Tower go up, its four perforated iron legs rising from the green meadow of the Champ de Mars. In 1900 the Petit and Grand Palais were opened to the public. In the same year the first line of the Métro was inaugurated, and the fanciful wrought-iron entrances, with their orange lights and insectlike appearance, contributed to what became known as the “firefly” style of decoration.

And yet the capital of two and a half million people still resembled a collection of villages. The Champs-Élysées remained unpaved until the twentieth century. The houses on the avenue du Bois (today’s avenue Foch) still had private stables. Passy was a rustic suburb. Public transportation consisted mainly of horse-drawn omnibuses, despite the Métro, which Proust mentions only once.

Electric street lighting was still a novelty, so that the narrator, going to visit Mme Swann, the mother of Gilberte, was guided by the light in her living room, which shone like a beacon in the dark. Houses, even the houses of the rich, were badly heated. In the early spring Mme Swann received visitors with an ermine wrap over her shoulders and her hands in an ermine muff, like “the last patches of the snows of winter, more persistent than the rest, which neither the heat of the fire nor the advancing season had succeeded in melting.”

The traditional coexistence of luxury and discomfort was tempered by new inventions. Thus, the narrator acquires a telephone. As he waits for a call from Albertine, he remarks: “The advance of civilisation enables each of us to display unsuspected merits or fresh defects which make him dearer or more insupportable to his friends. Thus Dr. Bell’s invention had enabled Françoise [his maid] to acquire an additional defect, which was that of refusing, however important, however urgent the occasion might be, to make use of the telephone. She would manage to disappear whenever anybody was going to teach her how to use it, as people disappear when it is time for them to be vaccinated.”

This, then, was the city the narrator inhabited, not a mere setting, or a series of useful addresses, but a source of daily nourishment for his senses. Its sounds reached him as he lay ill in his room: “On certain fine days, the weather was so cold, one was in such full communication with the street, that it seemed as though a breach had been made in the outer walls of the house, and, whenever a tramcar passed, the sound of its bell throbbed like that of a silver knife striking a wall of glass.”

The street hawkers outside his window were “an orchestra that returned every morning to charm me.” Their cries seemed like a recitative in an opera, “where an initial intonation is barely altered by the inflexion of one note which rests upon another …” When he heard the cry “Les escargots, ils sont frais, ils sont beaux … On les vend six sous la douzaine,” it reminded him of parts of Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande. The practical Albertine interrupted his reverie to say: “Do make Françoise go out and buy some.… It will be all the sounds that we hear, transformed into a good dinner.”

In counterpoint to the aristocracy with which Remembrance is mainly concerned, Proust shows us the little people of Paris, like the street vendors and the rouged lady called the “Marquise,” who operates the public toilet on the Champs-Élysées. Someone asks the Marquise why she does not retire, and she replies: “Will you kindly tell me where I shall be better off than here … my little Paris, I call it; my customers keep me in touch with everything that’s going on. Just to give you an example, there’s one of them who went out not more than five minutes ago; he’s a magistrate, in the very highest position there is … for the last eight years … regularly on the stroke of three he’s been here, always polite … never making any mess; and he stays half an hour and more to read his papers and do his little jobs.… And besides … I choose my customers, I don’t let everyone into my little parlours …” The instinct for social stratification, Proust shows us, exists at every level.

Another of Paris’s multiple functions is to evoke distant places where the narrator has never been, canceling the need to travel. He imagines “that the Seine, flowing between the twin semicircles of the span and the reflection of its bridges, must look like the Bosporus.” There was a room from which he saw “across a first, a second, and even a third layer of jumbled roofs … a violet bell, sometimes ruddy, sometimes too, in the finest ‘prints’ which the atmosphere makes of it, of an ashy solution of black; which is, in fact, nothing else than the dome of Saint-Augustin, and which imparts to this view of Paris the character of some of the Piranesi views of Rome.”

This room was Proust’s own bedroom on the boulevard Haussmann, but the narrator, more elegant, and for the requirements of the plot, lives in a wing of the Duc de Guermantes’s town house, the address of which is never specified. “It was one of those old town houses, a few of which are perhaps still to be found, in which the court of honour—whether they were alluvial deposits washed there by the rising tide of democracy, or a legacy from a more primitive time when the different trades were clustered round the overlord—is flanked by little shops and workrooms, a shoemaker’s for instance, or a tailor’s …”

Just as Proust’s Paris is more than a city, the Duc de Guermantes’s town house is more than an address—it is the symbolic fortress of an inaccessible caste, for the Duc and Duchesse de Guermantes are the social leaders of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, which is less a location than a state of mind. It is not limited to the fine old houses clustered around the boulevard Saint-Germain. The Guermantes town house, for instance, is on the other side of the river, on the right bank. It has everything to do with belonging to the ancien régime aristocracy, still conscious of its privileges, still royalist, certain of its superiority and contemptuous of outsiders, surviving thanks to an exclusiveness that makes it seem the custodian of a rare and desirable way of life, and to the rigid enforcement of a complicated social code.

The Baron de Charlus, the Duc de Guermantes’s younger brother (that brothers should have different family names is one of the arcana of the Faubourg), says: “I know nothing outside the Faubourg Saint-Germain.” Like the forbidden city of Peking, it is a closed, self-contained, self-sufficient society. Albertine, jealous of her fiancé’s Faubourg friends (whom she will never meet), says: “Of course, whoever comes from the Faubourg Saint-Germain possesses all the virtues.”

To the narrator, viewing it at first from afar, the Faubourg is a sublime enigma. He is incapable of imagining what it can be like, what these remote minor deities say to one another, what language they use. The guests arriving at the Duc de Guermantes’s house “might have been made of some precious matter; they are the columns that hold up the temple.” “Alas,” he says, “those picturesque sites … I must content myself with a shiver of excitement as I sighted, from the deep sea (and without the least hope of ever landing there) like an outstanding minaret, like the first palm, like the first signs of some exotic industry or vegetation, the well-trodden doormat of its shore.”

The narrator discovers, however, that the boundaries of the Faubourg are more flexible than he thought. A few outsiders are given “naturalization papers,” little ways in which they know they have become accepted. Proust, like his narrator, gained access to the reputedly unapproachable world of the Faubourg because he was witty, kind, and solicitous, and above all, because he passionately wanted to. It is hard to resist true passion. After having been its distant admirer, the narrator becomes the chronicler of the Faubourg. The focus of Proust’s Paris shifts, and centers on this tiny minority with an inflated sense of its own importance, absorbed in matters of rank and social exclusion, indifferent to the world outside its gates.

Familiarity makes the narrator lose the sense of ecstasy he felt when the Faubourg was out of reach. He becomes aware of the malice and foolishness that exclusiveness conceals. He tests the walls of the temple, and they give a hollow sound. The exquisite politeness is calculated: “The ladies of the Faubourg build up a credit of amiability in anticipation of the dinner and garden party where they will not invite you, and are particularly nice in prevision of the day when they will overlook you.” The men are convinced that no greater honor exists than that of being accepted by them. Charles Swann, an outsider who has been thus honored, is by birth neither an aristocrat nor a Gentile. When the fate of Captain Dreyfus intrudes on the smugness of the Faubourg Saint-Germain, the Duc de Guermantes cannot understand how Swann, after having received a friendly reception from the Faubourg, can be sympathetic to the Jewish officer convicted of treason.

The elegance, the refinement, the courtliness are screens that mask unfeeling hearts. The narrator, although still awed by the Faubourg’s splendor, exposes its callousness, as in the famous scene where Swann arrives at the Guermantes town house and announces that he is dying to the Duchesse, who is late for dinner. “ ‘What’s that you say?’ cried the Duchess, stopping for a moment on her way to the carriage, and raising her fine eyes, their melancholy blue clouded by uncertainty. Placed for the first time in her life between two duties as incompatible as getting into her carriage to go out to dinner and shewing pity for a man who was about to die, she could find nothing in the code of conventions that indicated the right line to follow, and, not knowing which to choose, felt it better to make a show of not believing that the latter alternative need be seriously considered, so as to follow the first, which demanded of her at the moment less effort, and thought that the best way of settling the conflict would be to deny that any existed. ‘You’re joking,’ she said to Swann.”

The Faubourg carries within it the seeds of its decline. The narrator watches it founder, the victim of external circumstances such as the war, as well as of its inability to defend itself against the principal cause of infiltration—misalliances. When Robert de Saint-Loup, the Duc de Guermantes’s nephew, marries Gilberte, the daughter of Odette and Swann, the Princesse de Silistrie complains that “there is no more Faubourg, Saint-Loup is marrying a Jew’s daughter.” The narrator, returning to Paris after a long absence, finds the Faubourg no longer exclusive: “… a thousand alien elements made their way in and all homogeneity, all consistency of form and color was lost. The Faubourg Saint-Germain was like some senile dowager now, who replies only with timid smiles to the insolent servants who invade her drawing rooms, drink her orangeade, present their mistresses to her.”

Stunning reversals have hastened the Faubourg’s decline. The Prince de Guermantes (cousin of the Duc), ruined by the war, his wife dead, has married the rich Mme Verdurin, the incarnation of bourgeois pretentiousness, whom no lady of the Faubourg, a few years earlier, would have received. The Faubourg’s standard-bearers, the Duc and Duchesse de Guermantes, have more or less abandoned it. The Duchesse now frequents social groups much further down the social scale, and has become particularly fond of the company of actresses. The Duc has become hopelessly infatuated with Swann’s widow, Odette, who has in the meantime been married to the Baron de Forcheville.

Thus Odette, who starts out a common courtesan, becomes in the end the wife of one member of the Faubourg and the mistress of another. The doddering Duc de Guermantes is so taken with Odette that he accepts in her home the presence of people he would in the past have disdained. Social boundaries have crumbled, and Odette shows off her relic of the Faubourg like a collector showing an antique. “All that seemed to be forever fixed is constantly being refashioned …” the narrator remarks.

Running parallel to the decline of the Faubourg as a social bastion is the decline of the narrator’s friends caused by advancing years, and the transformation of the city owing to the war. On his way to a musical matinee at the Prince de Guermantes’s, the narrator sees Charlus in the street, recovering from an attack of apoplexy, bent, his hair and beard gone completely white, his eyes glazed, hardly able to walk. At the matinee, he sees the men and women he had known young arriving like phantoms, imprisoned in the thousand bonds of the past, age having marked their faces the way geologic change marks the surface of the earth.

The men were now elderly white-haired hermits. Women’s faces were crumbling like those of statues. Women who still seemed young from afar grew older as they were approached and one saw the wrinkles and the greasy spots on their skins, the deep erosion along their noses, the alluvial deposits on the edge of cheeks that filled the face with their opaque mass. Some faces seem covered by a plaster mask, others by a gauze veil. Gilberte, the narrator’s first love, has become a fat lady whom he fails to recognize, and then mistakes for her mother, Odette.

Wartime Paris causes the same sense of dislocation. Planes circle the city, little brown specks against the sky. The museums are closed, and from the doors of shops hang handwritten signs saying they will be open at some remote time in the future. The blackout begins at nine-thirty. Soldiers on leave fill the streets, looking into the windows of crowded restaurants and saying: “You’d never know there was a war on here.” Sirens announcing a Zeppelin raid seem to the narrator “Wagnerian, so natural to announce the arrival of the Germans.”

Although the Germans are an hour’s drive from Paris, receptions and dinners continue to be given, and fashionable women attend them wearing bracelets made from shell fragments, while the men carry cigarette cases made from English coins. The narrator feels “the surprise of a foreigner who knows Paris well but does not live there, and who, upon returning to the city for a few weeks, sees in the place of a little theatre where he has spent pleasant evenings, that a bank has been built in its place.”

The city’s permanence is merely another illusion, for nothing lasts, in cities as well as in hearts, and the very streets can alter as quickly as a face ages. Paris’s final function is to serve as the setting for Proust’s inquiry upon the passage of time. As the narrator enters the Guermantes courtyard on his way to the matinee and trips on uneven paving stones, he experiences the happy rush of involuntary memory. Just as, earlier, the shell-shaped pastry called a madeleine brought back his childhood, the paving stones bring back his trip to Venice, for he had walked over uneven paving stones in the St. Mark’s baptistery. Instead of joining the other guests, he retires to a library to savor this “veritable moment of the past.”

He has stepped outside the flow of time and experienced a sensation that is not disappointing, for it is given to him whole, recaptured. Reality was disappointing because at the moment he perceived it he could not imagine it, “by virtue of the inevitable law that we can only imagine what is absent,” and it was only through his imagination that he was capable of grasping beauty.

But now, thanks to the physical sensation in the present that has restored the past, reality and imagination are fused and allow the narrator to apprehend “a fragment of time in the pure state … A minute freed from the order of time has re-created in us, to feel it, the man freed from the order of time. And one can understand that this man should have confidence in his joy, even if the simple taste of a madeleine does not seem logically to contain within it the reasons for this joy, one can understand that the word ‘death’ should have no meaning for him; situated outside time, why should he fear the future?”

The privileged moment is brief, and once over, the narrator must return to the aging faces and the eroding landscape. And this is the final, melancholy lesson taught not only by Proust’s characters but by the city streets they walk on and the buildings they live in, by the restless spirit of the great city: “The places that we have known belong now not only to the little world of space on which we map them for our own convenience. None of them was ever more than a thin slice, held between the contiguous impressions that composed our life at that time; remembrance of a particular form is but regret for a particular moment; and houses, roads, avenues are as fugitive, alas, as the years.”

THE CITY THAT PROUST KNEW

The Champs-Élysées is where the narrator as a child becomes the playmate of Gilberte, daughter of Charles Swann and Odette de Crécy—themselves major characters in the novel. The children play on the lawns near the Alcazar d’Été. Under century-old cedars, candy and soft drinks are sold from wooden booths. A little farther down stands the cast-iron public lavatory where the narrator’s grandmother suffers the stroke that leads to her death. On the corner of the Champs-Élysées, above the rue de Berri, the narrator, now grown up, sells a family vase to a Chinese curio shop for ten thousand francs, in order to buy flowers for Gilberte. On his way back from the shop, he sees Gilberte with a young man he cannot identify, and suffers pangs of jealous uncertainty. On the corner of the rue Royale stands a photographer’s stall, where the narrator’s servant, Françoise, buys a snapshot of Pope Pius IX, while the narrator chooses one of the actress La Berma.

Swann, the rich aesthete, is invited to lunch at the Élysée Palace, on the rue du Faubourg Saint-Honoré, with the president of France, Jules Grévy. It is an invitation that astonishes Doctor Cottard, one of the members of the “little clan,” as Mme Verdurin’s tacky, bourgeois salon is known. “What’s that you say? M. Grévy? Do you know M. Grévy?” asks Cottard, finding it hard to believe that someone he was having dinner with, and who held no official post, could be on friendly enough terms with the head of state to be invited for lunch at the Élysée.

The old Trocadéro is described as a gingerbread castle “whose towers at twilight glowed so that they seemed covered with currant jelly like the towers pastrycooks make.” It was torn down in 1937 to make way for the present Palais de Chaillot.

The musician Morel, who becomes the lover of the Baron de Charlus (the Duc de Guermantes’s homosexual brother) and of Robert de Saint-Loup (Guermantes’s nephew), is a member of the Conservatory on the rue Bergère.

On the rue de Bourgogne, the narrator’s butler observes the Baron de Charlus spending an hour in a pissotière, recognizing him by his bright yellow trousers.

Mme Verdurin holds her salon on the Quai de Conti, in a building she claims is the former residence of the Venetian ambassadors.

The Quai d’Orléans is where Swann lives as a bachelor. Odette, the lovely courtesan who will become his wife, considers the apartment musty and old-fashioned and the neighborhood inelegant because it is close to the Halle aux Vins, the wine market.

On the avenue Gabriel a homosexual propositions the narrator’s friend Saint-Loup, who is dressed in his officer’s uniform. Saint-Loup, shocked at the audacity of the “clique,” pummels the accoster savagely, but is later found to be himself a member.

To the Halles, or central market, the narrator’s servant, Françoise, goes to choose the ingredients for her famous boeuf en gelée, “as Michelangelo passed eight months in the mountains of Carrara choosing the most perfect blocks of marble for the monument of Jules II.”

The rue Rabelais is where the Jockey Club still stands. Swann is a member, as is the Baron de Charlus, who goes there every evening at six. When the obscure Chaussepierre is elected president over the Duc de Guermantes, the Duc concludes that the reason is his friendship with Swann, a Jew, at a time when the Jewish Captain Dreyfus had been accused of treason and anti-Semitism was raging. Guermantes would refer to the Dreyfus case, “ ‘which has been responsible for so many disasters,’ albeit he was really conscious of one and one only; his own failure to become president of the Jockey [Club].”

The Invalides is the tomb of Napoléon I, to which the government invites the Princesse Mathilde, his niece, to welcome the visiting Czar Nicholas of Russia. She sends the card back, saying that she needs no invitation to go to the Invalides, since her place in the crypt, next to the emperor, is reserved.

The pious Françoise has never been to the cathedral of Notre-Dame. “In all the years she had been living in Paris, Françoise had never had the curiosity to visit Notre-Dame. That was because Notre-Dame was part of Paris, a city in which her daily life unfolded, and in which, consequently, it was difficult for our old servant to place the object of her dreams.”

From the Gare Saint-Lazare, the narrator takes the train for the resort of Balbec, where he spent the summers as a young man and where he meets Albertine, his next love after Gilberte. He enters “one of those vast, glass-roofed sheds … into which I must go to find the train for Balbec, and which extended over the rent bowels of the city one of those bleak and boundless skies, heavy with an accumulation of dramatic menaces, like certain skies painted with an almost Parisian modernity by Mantegna or Veronese, beneath which could be accomplished only some solemn and tremendous act, such as a departure by train or the Elevation of the Cross.”

Before her marriage, Odette has a small house on the rue La Pérouse. Swann is courting her, and the mere mention of the street is enough to start his heart fluttering. In a conversation with an army general Swann says: “ ‘Some fine lives have been lost … There was, you remember, that explorer whose remains Dumont d’Urville brought back, La Pérouse …’ (and he was at once happy again, as though he had named Odette)….

“ ‘Oh, yes, of course, La Pérouse,’ said the General.… ‘There’s a street called that.’

“ ‘Do you know anyone in the rue La Pérouse?’ asked Swann excitedly.

“ ‘Only Mme. de Chanlivault, the sister of that good fellow Chaussepierre.…’

“ ‘Oh, so she lives in the rue La Pérouse. It’s attractive; I like that street; it’s so sombre.’

“ ‘Indeed it isn’t. You can’t have been in it for a long time; it’s not at all sombre now; they’re beginning to build all round there.’ ”

The narrator remarks on people “who look like their neighborhood, who carried on their persons the reflections of the rue de l’Arcade, or the avenue du Bois, or the rue de l’Élysée.” The passing reference to the rue de l’Arcade is particularly interesting, for the male brothel that the Baron de Charlus frequents was based on Proust’s experience in a similar establishment at 11 rue de l’Arcade, run by a former footman, Albert le Cuziat. Proust here is indulging his habit of dropping veiled hints about his secret aberrations. It was in Le Cuziat’s brothel that young men posing as butchers’ apprentices were brought for Proust, and that he watched rats being tortured. These activities are implicit in the innocent-appearing reference to the rue de l’Arcade.

The rue Saint-Augustin is a reminder of the Baron de Charlus’s complaint that Jews live in streets bearing saints’ names, which he considers a sacrilege. He suggests they ought to live in a street “which is entirely conceded to the Jews, there are Hebrew characters over the shops, bakeries for unleavened bread, kosher butcheries, it is positively the Judengasse of Paris.”

The rue de Rivoli is the street of the Louvre. The Duchesse de Guermantes visits the museum to see Manet’s Olympia, and comments: “Nowadays nobody is in the least surprised by it. It looks just like an Ingres! And yet, heaven only knows how many spears I’ve had to break for that picture, which I don’t altogether like but which is unquestionably the work of somebody.

The narrator sees the Eiffel Tower covered with searchlights, lit over wartime Paris in 1914 to detect German planes.

The rue de Varenne is where the Prince and Princesse de Guermantes live, until they move to a new mansion on the avenue du Bois, today’s avenue Foch.

To the Orangerie, in the Tuileries gardens, the writer Bergotte, suffering from an attack of uremia, goes to see Vermeer’s Street in Delft, on loan from The Hague Museum. A critic has written that a fragment of yellow wall in the painting could be considered a thing of perfect beauty, and against the advice of doctors, Bergotte goes out to see this fragment. “His giddiness increased; he fixed his eyes, like a child upon a yellow butterfly … upon the precious little patch of wall. ‘That is how I ought to have written.… My last books are too dry, I ought to have gone over them with several coats of paint, made my language exquisite in itself, like this little patch of yellow wall.’ … he sank down upon a circular divan … he rolled from the divan to the floor, as visitors and attendants came hurrying to his assistance. He was dead.”

This scene parallels one in Proust’s life. Although mortally ill, Proust left his apartment for the last time, on the arm of his friend Jean-Louis Vaudoyer, to see this very Vermeer painting, which he considered “the most beautiful in the world.” The exhibit opened in May 1921. Proust died in November of the following year after finishing Remembrance of Things Past.

G. Y. Dryansky
Gerald Dryansky may not be a writer whose name is known in every household, but for readers of Condé Nast Traveler his name is very well known indeed. Dryansky has been writing for Traveler since, I think, its inception in 1987, and I have long admired his well-written and thought-provoking pieces. I regret I was unable to include one of the very best articles ever written about Paris here, but I urge readers to go online to search for the article, which appeared in February 2003: “The Secret Life of Paris,” by Gerald Dryansky and with photos by William Abranowicz (one of my favorite photographers). Among a number of perceptive passages in his piece is this one: “There is something special in the material beauty of a city whose contribution to civilization is not so much vistas and monuments as it is the local approach to a civilized life. To understand Paris, you have to start with Parisians.” Dryansky’s daughter Larisa has also written for Condé Nast Traveler, and one of her articles, “The Villages of Paris” (February 1995), is also one of my favorites. It focuses particularly on the neighborhoods of Auteuil, Montsouris, Passy, Plaisance, Butte-aux-Cailles, Rhin-et-Danube, Batignolles, Charonne, Belleville, Ménilmontant, La Goutte-d’Or, and Montmartre.
In my correspondence with Gerald, he mentioned in passing that one of his Traveler pieces he likes best is “True Glitz,” about Monte Carlo (May 2007). In addition, he and his wife, Joanne, are the coauthors of Fatima’s Good Fortune (Hyperion, 2003), a novel set in Paris.

We’ll Always Have … Questions
ANN BURACK-WEISS

I LAUGHED OUT loud when I read this piece, especially when I got to the part about the handheld shower head. I, too, have never understood what, if any, logic there is in this device. If the shower stall has a built-in bench, you can sit down, which is easier and makes some sense, but most of the time there is no bench—and often there is no shower door or curtain, so the water goes all over the floor, the walls, the sink, everywhere.

ANN BURACK-WEISS, who claims to have never progressed beyond high school French, is also the author of The Caregiver’s Tale: Loss and Renewal in Memoirs of Family Life (Columbia University Press, 2006). This piece originally appeared as the back-page essay in the travel section of the New York Times in 1996.

 THE JOHN TRAVOLTA character in Pulp Fiction had it right about Paris—things there are the same as here, “just a little bit different.” His interest was piqued by the McDonald’s special (a quarter-pounder transformed by the metric system and nostalgia for the monarchy into The Royal). Having just returned from a month in France, I share his quotidian observations. Mine, however, are awash in puzzlement. Would a French person take pity on me and answer the following:

Do you really save money on those timers?

Paris was probably dubbed the City of Light in irony—by a victim of the timer (aptly called a minuterie) that is attached to many lights in hallways and bathrooms. I picture this person midway up a winding staircase, or perhaps otherwise involved in a sealed six-by-six room, when the light clicked off. The French have combined their twin passions for privacy and frugality into the diabolical construction of Les Toilettes. The stall has a floor-to-ceiling door and a light that invites you to enter and fasten the intricate lock before the light suddenly turns off, leaving you to grope through a succession of awkward acts in total darkness.

Do you carry flashlights? Candles?

Doesn’t it get expensive plastering up those holes in the wall?

Is there an expression for “penny wise and pound foolish” in French?

What do you do with the shower head while you soap and shampoo?

The French had to invent the shower à deux, not for its romantic possibilities but as a practical solution to an enduring national problem—the handheld shower. Alas, a shower partner is not always available. I have mastered the trick of never getting between the handheld shower and the wall in the curtainless tub. I accept that I will be standing in a foot of water, as tubs are short and deep and drains take their time. But I still don’t know what to do with the shower head when I need both hands.

Do you hold it between your teeth? Under your neck?

Do you have special knee-toning exercises at the gym to work up your grasping strength?

Are you free mornings at seven?

Is attendance at scarf-tying classes mandatory in the public schools?

Every woman in France, nymphet to granny, wears a scarf. Squares, tiny and huge. Streamers, thick and thin. Silk, polyester, chiffon, wool—with everything from jeans to gowns—all tied with insouciant elegance. Not for them our continuous instructional videos at the scarf counter illustrating three obvious maneuvers: the shoulder triangle, the twice around the neck, and the sailor’s knot. They intertwine two or more long scarves, they drape lightly and tightly, sling high and low. They wear scarves as hats, as belts, as hair bows. The men have only one style. And it is grand—very long, very trailing, very sexy.

Do you take off your scarves when you get home or do you keep them on till bedtime?

Are there any French people who just can’t get the hang of it?

Are you free mornings at eight?

Is la caisse a cultural icon?

I am in a department store and see a soap dish that I like. I have the one hundred francs right here, the package will fit into my knapsack, and on to dinner—not. The salesclerk takes the dish from my hand and gives me a piece of paper. With it I go to the opposite end of the floor and wait as the empty-handed shoppers ahead of me converse earnestly and at length with La Caisse. The French are not a superficial people. Several modes of payment are possible and the meanings attendant to each must be explored. Payment concluded, claim ticket in hand, I cross the floor once again to the bath accessories department and these possibilities: the clerk who holds the dish is nowhere to be found, the clerk who holds the dish has never seen me before in her life and can’t imagine what dish I’m talking about, the clerk who holds the dish remembers everything but where she put it. Pas de problème, here is another just like it. Well, almost—it is a bit larger and twenty francs more. A notation on the chit, another trip to La Caisse, a return to her and…voilà, the soap dish is mine.

Is this why the French dine late?

Are the motionless people in cafés recuperating from shopping expeditions?

How do you say “efficiency expert” in French?

Were the coquilles Saint-Jacques that Alice and Brad Hinkel of Des Moines enjoyed at Chez Claude (and asked Gourmet to get the recipe for) in fact … frozen?

Don’t deny that it is possible. The evidence is, as with Poe’s purloined letter, hidden in plain sight—260 Picard stores full of frozen food lining the streets of France. Oh, they are wily. They have named the stores Les Surgelés—one glance through the window at the white-clad salespeople and low, long cases that you can’t see into enhances the uneasy feeling that medical implements that you’d rather not think about are on sale there. Chef Claude may well have studied with Paul Bocuse—but don’t tell me that when he has one of those nonstop days, he doesn’t sneak into Picard for everything from soupe to noix. When the guests, ravenous from museum walking, rush in asking, “What’s for dinner?” he puts on his signature touch, a tomato rose, and produces the plate with a flourish. When they heap praises upon him, he stifles a knowing smile and thinks, “Just the way I’d do it myself, if I had the time.”

Can a dish consisting of potato noodles, cheese, and ham (gnocchi-jambon-fromage) really be Weight Watchers?

What’s the real story behind Croque Monsieur and Croque Madame?

Have you ever eaten a bad meal?

Can I come and live with you?

Your age, gender, and appearance are, as they say in the personals, not important. Oh, French person, I want to live your life. I want to walk kilometer upon kilometer every day—single file down narrow, curving streets and six abreast on large boulevards. I want to pay three dollars for a tablespoon of coffee with a chocolate wafer on the side. I want to order a tartine avec confiture (bread and jam) at a different café every morning and notice how the bread is always a different length and consistency, the butter thick or thin, salted or sweet, the jam apricot or strawberry, already spread on or in a dish to the side, the price never twice the same. I want to pay confidently with money I no longer have to put on my glasses to check the denomination of. I want to shop where the bottle with the red cap is whole milk and the bottle with the blue cap is double crème. I want to go to a dry cleaner who calls a suit a costume and returns the pants done up in gift-wrapping paper. I want to eat yogurt that sometimes tastes like sour cream and sometimes like sweet cream and is filled with fruits like rhubarb and figs. I want to stand in line for an ice cream cone where each scoop comes nestled in its own compartment.

I want to live where sitting is an activity that people get dressed up and go outside to do. I want to live where people who smoke don’t cough and people who eat fat aren’t fat and everyone looks as if they have secrets. I want to buy pierced earrings with those nifty European clasps.

I want to put my hand in my pocket and come up with a fistful of Métro stubs that were not required to leave the station last week and shuffle through them until I come up with the one needed for my release today. I want to stand midpoint on any bridge at any time of day, and store the sensations in every pore.

RECOMMENDED READING

As Terrance Gelenter notes on his Web site Paris Through Expatriate Eyes (paris-expat.com), “If Helen of Troy was the face that launched a thousand ships, then Paris is the city that launched tens of thousands of books.” Believe it or not, this list was edited—there are some (very good) titles I decided to save for my blog—but it simply isn’t possible for me to shorten this list of recommendations any further.

Living in Paris, José Alvarez with photography by Christian Sarramon and Nicolas Bruant (Flammarion, 2006). Originally published in French as L’Art de vivre à Paris, this is one of those rare coffee-table books that is filled with great photos and substantive text. It’s one of my very favorite books, and the eighteen-page visitor’s guide at the back of the book is excellent.
Paris, Julian Green (Marion Boyars, 2000). A wonderful, brilliant little book printed in both French (on the left-hand pages) and English (on the right-hand pages). Green (his first name is usually spelled Julien) was born in Paris in 1900 and died there in 1998, and he left only during World War II. He thus knew the city more intimately and far longer than many others. This is his very personal love poem to Paris, which begins with an inviting opening line: “I have often dreamed of writing a book about Paris that would be like one of those lazy, aimless strolls on which you find none of the things you are looking for but many that you were not looking for.” Having the French text side by side with the English presents a unique language-learning opportunity. Twenty-four of Green’s own black-and-white photos are included.
Paris: The Biography of a City, Colin Jones (Viking, 2005). In his introduction, Jones notes that one Piganiol de la Force, author of an early visitor’s guide in 1765, stated that “one would be very wrong if, seeing the vast number of books devoted to the history of Paris … one imagined that there was nothing more to be said.” The vast number of books about Paris is indeed staggering, but Jones sets out to encompass the city’s history in a single volume anyway, what he refers to as an “impossible” history of Paris. He’s done quite an admirable job—though, at nearly five hundred pages, this is not for the casual reader—and he hopes that, for all its omissions, the book “will contain enough of interest to manage a Michelin Guide recommendation: vaut le détour.” I think it is a worthy detour indeed.
Paris Inside Out: The Insider’s Handbook to Life in Paris, David Applefield (Globe Pequot, 2005). Applefield arrived in Paris in 1978 “at the Gare du Nord in the somber grayness of a typical Parisian October,” and he’s still there. This is a guide geared mostly for those who plan to live in Paris, but I find it very useful even for visitors who simply want to know Paris on a deeper level. “The Author’s Credo for Survival in Paris” is of value to both short- and long-term visitors, as are a great number of other topics.
Paris en poche (in your pocket)
An entertaining and ridiculously fun book to bring along is Paris Quiz: How Well Do You Know Paris? by Dominique Lesbros (Little Bookroom, 2009). With four hundred “provocative, curious, and humorous questions” about Paris arranged from the first through twentieth arrondissements, this little paperback (it fits in a pocket or small handbag) is not only interesting but perfect for those times when you might be waiting for a train or a subway, or just have some time to kill. I find the questions incredibly addictive, and even those who think they know a lot about Paris may be surprised.
Paris: Buildings and Monuments, Michel Poisson (Harry N. Abrams, 1998). This (heavy) hardcover is not one to bring along, but is very much worth reading before you go. Architect Poisson guides readers on a personal tour of 535 buildings and monuments in every arrondissement. There are no photographs but rather line drawings and hand-drawn maps that can be useful for arranging one’s own walking tour. Poisson has included a number of buildings that don’t appear in most other books and he has provided an illustrated index of Paris architects.

Paris Web sites
Some sites about Paris that I regularly browse include:
Bonjour Paris (bonjourparis.com), run by American expat Karen Fawcett. Regular subscribers receive a complimentary weekly missive, but only with a paid premium subscription do users have access to all the articles on the site (see more details in the Miscellany).
Paris Through Expatriate Eyes (paris-expat.com), created by “Anglophonic, Francophonic Francophiliac” Terrance Gelenter. The site not only includes a great list of recommended reading, but also includes information on Gelenter’s travel-planning service and airport transfers, insider tours, restaurant reservations, etc. And he offers several apartment rentals that look terrific. As author Pete Hamill has said, “If you believe that Paris is the most beautiful city in the world … if you want to better understand the mysteries of the Parisian character, then Paris Through Expatriate Eyes is the place to be.” Subscribers receive a biweekly newsletter, The Paris Insider, and for twenty euros you can be a prestige member and receive a number of benefits. Gelenter is also the author of Paris par Hasard: From Bagels to Brioche, which I’ve not yet read but am looking forward to. He also organizes swell gatherings in Paris—one of these days I will make it to one of them.
Secrets of Paris (secretsofparis.com), maintained by Heather Stimmler-Hall, who has written for a number of periodicals and travel guides (Fodor’s, Michelin, Time Out, etc.). She is also the author of a nifty guide called Naughty Paris: A Lady’s Guide to the Sexy City (Fleur de Lire, 2008). Hall has been writing a Secrets of Paris newsletter since 2001, and she covers a wide variety of topics for first-time and repeat visitors. She is also available as a tour guide for half- and full-day tours, and plans customized itineraries and self-guided tours.
Paris: History, Architecture, Art, Lifestyle, in Detail, edited by Gilles Plazy (Flammarion, 2003). “The ambition of this book is to prepare you for Paris, to remind you of the city when you reluctantly return home, or to console you if a journey to the City of Light proves an impossible dream.” That passage, from the foreword, accurately describes this very large, heavy (about eight pounds!), and gorgeous book. I positively love it, mostly because it’s so big that I feel it goes on forever. Each time I open it I discover there is so much I haven’t seen previously. This book is heavy enough to be a coffee table, but it is a very worthy (coffee-table) book indeed, and I do believe it is worth the price (list price about $95) for those who are insanely passionate about Paris. With contributions by eight writers and hundreds of color and black-and-white photographs and reproductions, this is a true tour de force.
Paris to the Moon, Adam Gopnik (Random House, 2000). I have my own story about when this wonderful book of Gopnik’s “Paris Journal” columns from the New Yorker was still a manuscript: I was working on the first edition of this book and I had earmarked two of Gopnik’s columns for inclusion. These were “The Rules of the Sport”—a hilarious account of the time Gopnik tried to join a Parisian gym—and “Papon’s Paper Trail,” about the 1998 trial of Maurice Papon, who was charged with complicity in crimes against humanity during the German occupation of France in World War II. (The trial was, according to Gopnik, “the longest, the most discouraging, the most moving, at times the most ridiculous, and certainly the most fraught trial in postwar French history”—all reasons why I wanted to include the piece.) Through a permissions representative, I learned that Gopnik had in fact included both of these pieces in his manuscript, and he felt that since our books would be appearing at approximately the same time, it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to include them. I was disappointed, but also reassured that I had chosen well!
Paris Traditions (Watson-Guptill, 1999). This lavishly illustrated hardcover features contributions by eight writers on architecture, art, fashion, festivals, food and drink, music, sports, and stage and film. The photographs and illustrations are really wonderful and I find this book to be great for whetting one’s appetite for Paris. A four-page directory of addresses appears at the back of the book.
Paris: Wish You Were Here!, edited by Christopher Measom (Welcome Books, 2008). This chunky, hugely appealing book is organized by arrondissement, and sandwiched in between sections are excerpts from works by Mark Twain, Anita Loos, Ernest Hemingway, Ben Franklin, David Sedaris, Ludwig Bemelmans, and more; song lyrics; notes on les Américains à Paris (Charles Lindbergh, Josephine Baker, Mary Cassatt, etc.); recommendations for historic monuments, places to eat, and cultural offerings; and wonderful illustrations, reproductions, and photographs in black and white and color. Measom’s own first trip to Paris was when he was a student in Spain, where it was so hot and dry that by November he had running water only a few hours day. When he got to Paris, it was overcast, cool, and there was plenty of running water, and he’s been smitten with the city ever since. This is a great book to give as a gift if you could ever part with it.
Quiet Corners of Paris, Jean-Christophe Napias with photographs by Christophe Lefébure (Little Bookroom, 2007). This wonderful little gem of a book will ensure you see many of the lesser-known corners of Paris, including parks, gardens, squares, villas, cul-de-sacs, places, rues, backstreets, passages, art galleries, hills, buttes, cloisters, courtyards, churches, cemeteries, museums, international cultural centers, and libraries. Plus there’s one hôtel, the Hôtel des Grandes Écoles (75 rue du Cardinal-Lemoine, 5ème), which is also one that I recommend. The author informs us that this book’s job is “to lead questers to the city’s magical islands—famous or unknown—where their thirst for silent escapes can be slaked.” It positively succeeds. Just a few coins (corners) this book led me to are the Jardin Saint-Gilles-Grand-Veneur (3ème), Butte-aux-Cailles (13ème), Square d’Orléans (9ème), and Square Récamier (7ème).
Remembrance of Things Paris: Sixty Years of Writing from Gourmet, edited and with an introduction by Ruth Reichl (Modern Library, 2004). For those readers who are clippers (like me), you will want to read this terrific anthology even if you already have most of the original articles from Gourmet in your files (as I do). As Reichl notes in the introduction, “For a true gourmet in the first few decades of the twentieth century, Paris was the heart’s home, the place that mattered, a shrine for everyone who believed that eating well was the best revenge. It was where Hemingway’s Moveable Feast took place, where Liebling spent his time Between Meals, where M. F. K. Fisher’s Gastronomical Me was born.” But Gourmet was founded in 1941, when Paris was impossible to visit, so it took a few years for Paris to be properly featured in its pages. The book is divided into ten sections—including “Remembering Paris,” “Feeding a City,” “Americans in Paris,” and “The Bistro Scene”—and some of my favorite articles ever written about the city are here: “Paris in the Twenties” by Irene Corbally Kuhn; “The Old Flower Market” by Joseph Wechsberg; “Noël à Paris” by Judith and Evan Jones; “It’s What’s for Dinner” by François Simon; and all the pieces by Naomi Barry (there are ten here). This book, like the magazine I very much miss, reminds us that food is linked in so many ways to place; in reading about one you also learn a lot about the other.

Seven Ages of Paris, Alistair Horne (Knopf, 2002). In his foreword, Maurice Druon, of the Académie Française, writes that “Horne is everywhere and knows everything.… Nothing escapes his paintbrush”—which indeed appears to be true when reading this magnificent book. Druon also calls the book “in itself, a monument,” an endorsement with which I wholeheartedly agree. Horne explains in the preface that in the course of working on nine previous books on French history over three decades, he kept a “discard box” of little details on Paris (as Churchill is said to have done during World War II), and that box became a scrapbook of sorts as well as the origin of this book. With inserts of photographs and reproductions, this is a de rigueur read.
The Locals’ Point de Vue
“There is a world of difference between the Paris of tourism and Parisians’ Paris,” notes Bill Gillham in Parisians’ Paris (Pallas Athene, 2008), which is a great book for anyone visiting Paris but especially so perhaps for repeat visitors, as Gillham has purposefully made only summary reference to the obvious sights. However, he does include such topics as making hotel reservations, bathrooms, special trips for children, and free concerts and classic films. He really does cover all the bases. He also wisely urges caution when reading articles that have titles like “Secret Paris” and “Hidden Paris.” The Saint-Germain quarter, for example, “is the most intensively scrutinized sector of Paris. Even outside the main tourist areas, can anything have escaped the city’s five or six million visitors a month and those who write guides for them? The answer is that Paris is always changing, at the same time always contriving to remain the same. The cliché is right: the process of getting to know the city is never finished. And so the first-time visitor is only to a degree at a disadvantage, as guide writers driven by the demon of updating know to their cost.”
A Parisian’s Paris by Philippe Meyer (Flammarion, 1999) is, despite the similar title, not a guidebook but a “wish” for anyone who picks it up to decide to visit Paris in what he refers to as the “fifth season,” known as la rentrée, the time of year at the end of summer when Parisians return home from wherever they’ve been for the month of August. La rentrée, as Meyer defines it for this book, exists only in Paris; it lasts for an unpredictable length of time—he’s witnessed it for a full ten days or for a mere forty-eight hours—and it ends without warning. It’s identified by subtle, unexpected changes, such as: “If someone runs toward a bus stop just as the bus is leaving, the driver waits and reopens the door.” It is a time when Parisians “reclaim possession and awareness of their city, once again struck by a beauty they had managed to overlook, by the realization that Paris is still a miracle. Filled with pleasure and pride, Parisians delight in sharing their contentment. They know full well they couldn’t live anywhere else. That’s the time to visit the capital, because it’s the one moment when Paris and the Parisians show themselves at their best.” Meyer, a well-known radio commentator, presents an urban chronicle that is critical, affectionate, and revealing.
A Traveller’s History of Paris, Robert Cole (Interlink, 1998). This edition is one in a great series for which I have much enthusiasm. It’s a mini “what you should know” guide that’s small enough and light enough to carry around every day, and every edition in the series highlights the significant events and people with which all visitors should be familiar.
Vie et Histoire
I first read about the Vie et Histoire series—a twenty-volume encyclopedia about the city of Paris, one volume for each arrondissement—in Travelers’ Tales Guides: Paris. I’ve been slowly collecting the volumes over the years—though I’m still missing the seventh arrondissement, which is the one I most covet—and I hope I’m fortunate enough to acquire them all. These hardcover books, all in print in French (so it takes me a while to read them, dictionary in hand), each include these categories: histoire, anecdotes, célébrités, curiosités, monuments, musées, promenades, jardins, dictionnaire des rues, and vie pratique. Each is filled with color and black-and-white illustrations, reproductions, and photographs.
A Writer’s Paris: A Guided Journey for the Creative Soul, Eric Maisel (Writer’s Digest, 2005). “You feel at home in Paris,” writes Maisel, “because the things that you care about—strolling, thinking, loving, creating—are built into the fabric of the city. Despite its negatives—eighteen million tourists annually, eleven percent unemployment, large numbers of homeless people—Paris remains the place where you can feel comfortable decked out as a dreamy artist.” This little book is not for everyone—Maisel really has written it for writers, notably those who plot to go to Paris to write—but there are nonetheless wonderful passages in it that would appeal to anyone with a smidgen of creativity and a deep devotion to the City of Light.
Janet Flanner
Readers of my first Paris edition may recall that I included an obituary of Janet Flanner that appeared in the New Yorker. Flanner—who wrote under the nom de correspondance Genêt—wrote a regular “Letter from Paris” for the New Yorker from 1925 to 1975. Readers of the magazine before the 1990s know that it was a long-standing policy not to print bylines. Not until I requested permission to reprint the obituary did I learn it had been written by William Shawn, distinguished editor of the magazine for nearly forty years. Of Flanner, he wrote, “She loved the people of France among whom she lived so much of her life, and she loved no less the American people for whom she wrote,” and “her estimates of people and events, her perceptions and illuminations, were rarely embarrassed by time.”
I love all of Flanner’s books, which include Janet Flanner’s World: Uncollected Writings, 1932–1975 (1979), Paris Journal, 1944–1965 (1977), and Paris Was Yesterday, 1925–1939 (1972), all published by Harcourt. These collections are for both those of us old enough to remember her missives and young Francophiles about to discover her. We are most fortunate, not only as readers but as human beings, to have such a vast and perceptive record of Parisian life and times. She was there for much of the twentieth century’s momentous events.
Equally interesting is Flanner’s personal life. In Janet, My Mother, and Me: A Memoir of Growing Up with Janet Flanner and Natalia Danesi Murray (Simon & Schuster, 2000), William Murray explains how his mother, Natalia, met Flanner—at a cocktail party given by Natalia in 1940 at her apartment on East Forty-ninth Street in Manhattan. The encounter, Murray relates, was a coup de foudre. His account illustrates what life was like for him growing up with these women in New York and Rome. Murray’s book is fascinating on several levels—we learn about his own career at the New Yorker, where he was a staff writer for thirty-three years—but it is perhaps most valuable in its portrayal of what it was like for gay professional women during a time when it was not accepted. In the introduction to Darlinghissima, a book of letters between the two, Natalia writes, “I hope that my grandchildren, and other young women like them, born in a freer, more liberated society, more knowledgeable about relationships between the sexes and without the inhibitions or taboos of an earlier era, will understand and value our experiences and efforts to be, above all, decent human beings.”

PARIS MEMOIRS

It’s a toss-up if there are more memoirs written of Paris, Provence, or Tuscany, which is to say there are an awful lot about each of these hugely appealing destinations. It’s hard for me to pass up reading a Paris memoir, so, yes, I’ve read all of these, and can report that each is unique and worthwhile. I think you’ll agree that any one (or five) is an enjoyable read.

Almost French: Love and a New Life in Paris, Sarah Turnbull (Gotham, 2003). “Like an Aussie backpacker in need of a bath, probably,” is how Turnbull describes her appearance when she meets Frédéric, her French boyfriend, at Charles de Gaulle airport. “I’m not the sort of girl who crosses continents to meet up with a man she hardly knows,” she reveals, yet there she is, indeed meeting up with a Frenchman she’s only conversed with for approximately forty-five minutes. Thus begins this wonderful love story and memoir, in which you find yourself cheering for Turnbull at every step of her sometimes rough way. One aspect I especially like is that she shares a great number of French phrases that are quite useful: instead of ordering a verre de vin (glass of wine) at a café or restaurant, ask for a coup de pif (which she says is slang and untranslatable)—I did the last time I was in Paris and I just know the raised eyebrows of the waiter signified he was surprised I knew such a phrase.
C’est la Vie, Suzy Gershman (Viking, 2004). “I always knew that one day I would live in France,” Gershman writes on the first page of her memoir. “This was not a dream on my part, but a fact of life, not whispered in the winds of chance, but firmly written on the mistral of my life.” She had me right away with that, but she sealed it when she further explained that when she heard Billy Joel sing, “Vienna waits for you,” she knew exactly what he meant: Paris was her Vienna, and it was waiting for her. Trite as that may sound, I was completely on board—I identify enormously with song lyrics. Without giving away the details, the stage of Gershman’s life that is the subject of this book is sad, funny, and uplifting all at once, which is reason enough to read it. But she also reveals a lot of details about French traditions and daily life in Paris. One custom is the crémaillère, a party to show off a new home. The word derives from the expression pendre la crémaillère—to hang the saucepan on a hook over the fire. At the time the expression was coined, people cooked only on open fires, so when the saucepan was hung the house was ready. Today, in their version of a housewarming, “French people [invite] all their friends for the crémaillère, given as soon as the new home is set up and functioning—usually at a point just under one year after arrival.”
French Lessons, Alice Kaplan (University of Chicago Press, 1993). This well-written book was selected as a Notable Book of 1993 by the New York Times Book Review and was a National Book Critics Circle Award nominee. It’s an unusual memoir and an insightful work about language. I love the way she writes about learning and teaching French, her French summer camp in 1968, where if you were caught speaking one word of English you got a mauvais point, and her love affair with André on her junior year abroad. I also found her research on French fascist intellectuals—and her interview with the only one still living at the time, Maurice Bardèche (who has since passed away)—fascinating and unsettling.
I’ll Always Have Paris!, Art Buchwald (Putnam, 1996). I fully expected this memoir to be funny (it was), but I was unprepared for it also to be a bit sad. I should explain: I am the sort of person who still gets choked up when the Tin Man tells Dorothy his heart is breaking at the end of The Wizard of Oz, so you may not get as teary-eyed as I did when reading about Buchwald’s wife, Ann, who passed away before this book was published. She is present on nearly every page even when she’s not part of the narrative. But it’s hard for anyone not to laugh at Buchwald’s press-junket adventures with the International Herald Tribune and the VIPs he meets over the years. Very entertaining, with eight pages of black-and-white photos.
A Girl in Paris: A Persian Encounter with the West, Shusha Guppy (Tauris Parke, 2007). In his preface, Philip Mansel, author of one of my favorite books (Constantinople: City of the World’s Desire, 1453–1924), writes that “if there was one area of the world for which Paris, France and the French language possessed particular magnetism, it was the Middle East. In the Ottoman Empire in the 1830s, French became the second language of the governing classes. By the 1850s an Ottoman poet could write: ‘Go to Paris, young sir, if you have any wish; if you have not been to Paris, you have not come into the world.’ ” Guppy, born in Iran and now London editor of the Paris Review, arrived in Paris in the 1950s at age seventeen to attend the Sorbonne. I love her personal story of living “on the top floor of a seven-story building” on the Left Bank as well as hearing about Paris shortly after World War II. But most of all I love how she writes about exile, weaving Persian memories and vignettes into her French experience.
A Homemade Life: Stories and Recipes from my Kitchen Table, Molly Wizenberg (Simon & Schuster, 2009). The title of this wonderful, wonderful book does not give any clue that it has to do with Paris, and certainly when I picked it up I had no idea that the word “Paris” would appear in it even once. But it turns out that Paris is a very special city for Wizenberg, as she has spent lengths of time there over the years, studying, living, visiting, and eating. She lived in the eleventh arrondissement after college, in a “petite piece of paradise,” and in that year she learned she loved to cook. Wizenberg says that the only reason she travels is for an excuse to eat more than usual. “I couldn’t tell you what the inside of Notre-Dame looks like, but I do know how to get from the greengrocer on rue Oberkampf, the one with the green awning, to that terrific fromagerie way down in the seventh, near Le Bon Marché.” Though she clearly has a sense of humor, it’s not humor that sustains this book. Wizenberg cares deeply about food—browse her blog (orangette.blogspot.com) and read her monthly column in Bon Appétit—but also about family. When she tells the story of her father dying and I got teary-eyed (on the train, no less), I was crying not only because I was thinking of my own wonderful father (who also has passed away) but because I truly cared about Molly and what happened in her life. She has a winning way of drawing people to her, and when you finish the book you feel like you could pick up the phone and call her. She shares a number of recipes at the end of each chapter, which are among the very few that have appeared in a book like this and that I actually tried—with super results. I don’t believe I will spoil anyone’s pleasure in reading this book by sharing some lines from the final chapter. What life comes down to, Wizenberg says, is winning hearts and minds. “Underneath everything else, all the plans and goals and hopes, that’s why we get up in the morning, why we believe, why we try, why we bake chocolate cakes. That’s the best we can ever hope to do: to win hearts and minds, to love and be loved.” Read this book!
Immoveable Feast: A Paris Christmas (2008) and We’ll Always Have Paris: Sex and Love in the City of Light (2006), both by John Baxter and published by Harper Perennial. Of these two, I enjoyed Immoveable Feast best, and not only because I learned that Baxter had been a visiting professor at my alma mater, Hollins College (now University), in 1974. He writes that Hemingway meant the title of his famous book (A Moveable Feast) to allude to periods in the Christian calendar—notably Lent and Pentecost—that change their dates depending on when Easter falls. Similarly, as Baxter explains, there is more than one “right” time to discover Paris. “Its pleasures can be relished at any moment in one’s life. But the phrase is subject to another interpretation. At certain times of year, the spirit of Paris moves elsewhere. Its soul migrates, and this most beautiful of cities briefly falls empty.” The two times of year when this happens are during the month of August and at Christmas. Baxter, who is married to a French woman, delightfully and humorously recounts a Christmas meal he made for his French family while revealing much about French customs and traditions.
Lunch in Paris: A Love Story, with Recipes, Elizabeth Bard (Little, Brown, 2010). I was prepared to like this book but was surprised to really love it. From the first few pages, I felt Bard could also have been describing me. I felt a kindred spirit when I read, “Wherever I’ve been in the world, museums have been my second homes,” and “When the age for dress-up was over, I immersed myself in novels, diving into other peoples’ imaginary worlds. The streets of Dickens’s London were much easier for me to get my head around than fractions.” But when she admits to despising mayonnaise, I knew I’d practically met my twin (for the record, we’re talking supermarket mayonnaise, not the homemade variety). Gwendal, the love in Bard’s life, is a dream of a boyfriend/husband. Without giving too much away, I’ll just note that when he spruces up the apartment while Bard is away in New York, he immediately secured the top spot on my list of World’s Best Husbands (knocking to second place Richard Dreyfus’s character in The Goodbye Girl when he sets a dinner table for two on a New York rooftop). It is Bard herself, however, for whom we’re cheering. She is inspiring, warm, funny, wise, and lucky, this last for figuring out sooner than most what truly matters in life. And her passage about the “promised land” in the conclusion is the best I’ve ever read about embracing the values that France offers while retaining the best ones from the U.S.A.

My Life in France, Julia Child with Alex Prud’homme (Knopf, 2006). In her introduction to this wonderful memoir, published not long after her death in 2004, Child describes the book as being “about some of the things I have loved most in life: my husband, Paul Child; la belle France; and the many pleasures of cooking and eating.” It was a new experience for her, writing a series of linked autobiographical stories instead of a collection of recipes, and it focuses mostly on the years she lived in Paris and Marseille, 1948 through 1954. “Those early years in France were among the best in my life,” she writes, and you can feel her excitement about being in Paris on the page. By now everyone knows that the movie Julie & Julia was based on this book and Julie Powell’s book Julie & Julia (Little, Brown, 2005), which I enjoyed mostly because I loved that Powell was so inspired by Child to start her blog and work her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking.
Paris in the Fifties, Stanley Karnow (Times Books, 1997). Before he was honored with a Pulitzer Prize for In Our Image: America’s Empire in the Philippines and before the bestselling Vietnam, Karnow went to Paris in 1947 intending to stay for the summer. He stayed for ten years, landing a job as a foreign correspondent for Time, and happily for the rest of us he saved carbon copies of all his original dispatches, a revised selection of which form the basis of this engaging look into a noteworthy decade.
Paris Personal, Naomi Barry (Dutton, 1963). “Fortunately,” Barry writes in her introduction, “the story of I Love You has no end. It can stand being retold over and over and over again. Otherwise, I ask you, how could anyone dare to write still another book about Paris? So, with love as the excuse, I dared.” And thank God she did, even if it’s now more than forty years old. What is amazing is that a number of restaurants Barry recommends are still with us—La Tour d’Argent, Prunier, La Closerie des Lilas, Maxim’s, Le Grand Vefour—as well as some shops, antiques galleries, museums, etc. In his endorsement, Art Buchwald writes, “Naomi Barry knows Paris better than any American woman I know.” Having had the supreme pleasure of meeting Barry on several occasions, I completely concur. I treasure this volume.
Paris: Places and Pleasures, Kate Simon (Capricorn Books, 1971). There are few travel writers like Simon around anymore, so if you run across a copy of this out-of-print volume, buy it without hesitation. “An Uncommon Guidebook” is how it’s described on the cover, and indeed this is much more like a memoir than a guidebook. Though there are recommendations for things to see and do, they aren’t approached in a predictable fashion, and it’s the essays—“How Come the Angry Parisian?,” “Est-ce Que Vous Parlez Anglais?,” and “Parisian Contours and Stances”—that really make the book worthwhile and still apropos. Simon wisely notes that, with few exceptions, every neighborhood in Paris has some treasure or other to offer.
Paris Times Eight: Finding Myself in the City of Dreams, Deirdre Kelly (Greystone, 2009). Kelly’s book is such a good read because she is truthful and self-deprecating and she has a passion for Paris that is utterly infectious. The “eight” in the title refers to eight life-changing and/or momentous visits to Paris, some of them made while on assignment for Toronto’s Globe and Mail, where she still works as a reporter at large.
The People of Paris, Joseph Barry (Doubleday, 1966). Though many references in this book, by a former correspondent for the New York Post, are dated, it’s still a good read, especially as a record of Paris just after World War II and in the 1950s and ’60s. It is indeed the people that Barry focuses on, as they are what interest him most. “France is never more French than when it is universal,” Barry writes. “When I am most exasperated with De Gaulle’s nationalism, I think of the beau geste of this Frenchman. One of the big people? One of the little people? One of the people of Paris.”
Petite Anglaise, Catherine Sanderson (Spiegel & Grau, 2008). The words “A True Story” appear at the bottom of this book’s cover, which is probably wise as the book looks and reads like a novel. Englishwoman Sanderson was realizing a dream when she moved to Paris, though not far into her teaching stint she recognized that something was missing from her experience. “I was living alongside the French, not among them. Observing French life, but never truly living it. A hairbreadth away from fulfilling my dreams. And yet sometimes this tiny gap seemed so unbridgeable.” But when she met a French man (Mr. Frog) at the Café Charbon and had a daughter with him (Tadpole), all this changed. She also started a blog (petiteanglaise.com), and her life changed again. Without revealing the rest of the story, I admit Sanderson’s tale didn’t end the way I wanted it to, but she didn’t then, and doesn’t now, ever want to leave Paris. (Sanderson now also has a son, and I was happy to read that she has “moved on” and no longer feels the need to document every detail of her personal life on her blog.)
The Piano Shop on the Left Bank, Thad Carhart (Random House, 2001). The title of this gem of a book appealed to me immediately because I took piano lessons for seven years when I was young. But you don’t have to know anything about pianos to love this memoir, inspired by a sign—DESFORGES PIANOS—on an ordinary storefront in Carhart’s Paris neighborhood. The people Carhart introduces us to, and their relationships to music and to each other, tell another, little-known story of Paris.
Return to Paris, Colette Rossant (Atria, 2003). If you, like me, are a fan of Rossant’s Memories of a Lost Egypt (Clarkson Potter, 1999) you will be predisposed to like this memoir as well. Rossant’s own family story is of interest, but the Paris she returns to in 1947—she was born there but spent eight years in Cairo—is an interesting subject as well. Early in her life, Rossant paid attention to food, and she shares a number of recipes here, some of which I’ve tried and liked. Rossant lives in New York now, but a large part of her will always be French.

The Sweet Life in Paris: Delicious Adventures in the World’s Most Glorious—and Perplexing—City, David Lebovitz (Broadway, 2009). This book includes more than forty recipes as well as a directory of culinary bonnes adresses, making it useful and valuable, but it’s also a great memoir of the years since Lebovitz, a dessert cookbook author and former pastry chef at Berkeley’s Chez Panisse, moved to Paris. It’s positively filled with insights, expressions, and new vocabulary words (my favorite: les bousculeurs, from the verb bousculer, meaning “to push abruptly in all directions” and referring to the habit Parisians have of cutting people off in line or walking on a sidewalk and expecting you to move out of their way; as Lebovitz notes, “they just refuse to be herded into straight lines”). I’ve made a handful of the recipes and they all turned out great; the real star was Spiced Nut Mix, which combines nuts with, among other ingredients, chili powder or smoked paprika (I used Spanish pimentón), maple syrup, cocoa powder, and pretzel twists, and it is d-é-l-i-c-i-e-u-x. Lebovitz also maintains an award-winning blog (davidlebovitz.com), which is a good resource for visitors to Paris—not only is it chock full of culinary recommendations, but he’s compiled a great list of travel tips. (See this page.)
A Town Like Paris: Falling in Love in the City of Light, Bryce Corbett (Broadway, 2007). When I first learned of this memoir, by a (then) twenty-eight-year-old Australian guy who’d been living and working in London before moving to Paris, I was inclined to dismiss it—I feared it would be little more than a Drinker’s Guide to the City of Light. I’m glad I read it, because even though there are plenty of references to bars and drinking I am, after all, a wine-loving writer, and Corbett is a lovable man with whom I share a (perhaps) over-the-top infatuation with Paris. I found myself smiling—if not laughing out loud—at many passages, especially in the hilarious “Get 27” chapter, which refers to, usually, a not very popular mint liqueur available in French bars. Corbett and some friends form a motley band by the same name, Get 27, spoken jet vingt-sept in French, “a name that rolled easily off the tongue,” and perform at a Marais bar called Le Connétable. Regardless of how many glasses of beer and wine you vicariously consume while reading the book, you find yourself completely agreeing with Corbett about the reasons he is in Paris in the first place, chief among them “because having a modest yet comfortable lifestyle is more important than acquiring and aspiring.”
Paris en Photo
Of the many, many books filled with photographs of Paris, here is a selection of titles whose pages I never tire of turning:
À Propos de Paris, Henri Cartier-Bresson and with texts by Vera Feyder and André Pieyre de Mandiargues (Bulfinch, 1994). More than 130 black-and-white photos by a photographer whose name is virtually synonymous with Paris.
Métropolitain: A Portrait of Paris, Matthew Weinreb and Fiona Biddulph (Phaidon, 1994). I like this photography book because none of the images are typical; Weinreb has focused on the smallest details, which, he says, “are so often missed by the hurried walker in the street.” The photo of the Institut du Monde Arabe is especially nice as the building is quite difficult for an amateur to capture on film, and the photo of Chagall’s ceiling in the Opéra is magnificent—if you somehow miss seeing the real thing, this is a good consolation prize.
Paris (Assouline, 2004). I am crazy for Assouline’s books, and this one, in its own slipcase, features good text with hundreds of photos.
Paris: 500 Photos, Maurice Subervie with a foreword by Bertrand Delanoë, (Flammarion, 2003). “How many people,” Paris mayor Delanoë asks in his foreword, “during an aimless stroll through our city, have felt the urge to seize a color, an instant, a piece of the azure sky, or a fragment of the night?” An awful lot, surely, but there’s no question that most of us cannot possibly capture that color, instant, or piece of sky as seductively as Subervie.
Paris: The City and Its Photographers, Patrick Deedes-Vincke (Bulfinch, 1992). A fascinating look at the history of photography and the role Paris played in its development, featuring the work of Lee Miller, Brassaï, Robert Capa, Cartier-Bresson, Robert Doisneau, and others. There are no photographs after 1968 because, as the author states, “with the student riots of that year and the ensuing disruption, and with the urban upheaval of the mid-1960s, came the end of an era.”
Paris Vertical, Horst Hamann (teNeues, 2006). In order to photograph Paris vertically, Hamann notes, he had to rethink how he looked at things. “The visual challenge was not the search for the top, the vanishing points in the sky, but the inconspicuous, the details at eye level.” Hamann’s black-and-white photos are paired with great quotations in both French and English.

FICTION

For classics titles listed here, multiple editions are generally available.

Babylon Revisited, F. Scott Fitzgerald.
The Blessing, Nancy Mitford (Vintage, 2010).
Birdsong, Charlotte Gray, and The Girl at the Lion d’Or, a trilogy by Sebastian Faulks, available from Vintage.
The Book of Salt, Monique Truong (Mariner, 2003).
The Children’s War, Monique Charlesworth (Knopf, 2004).
City of Darkness, City of Light: A Novel, Marge Piercy (Ballantine, 1996).
Claude & Camille: A Novel of Monet, Stephanie Cowell (Crown, 2010).
The Club Dumas, Arturo Pérez-Reverte (Harcourt, 1996).
Le Divorce (1997), Le Mariage (2000), L’Affaire (2003), all by Diane Johnson and published by Dutton.
Don’t Tell Alfred, Nancy Mitford (Vintage, 2010).
Fields of Glory, Jean Rouaud (Arcade, 1992). This is a beautifully written, slender little novel that was awarded the 1990 Prix Goncourt for best work of fiction in France.
The Hunchback of Notre-Dame, Victor Hugo.
Is Paris Burning?, Larry Collins and Dominique Lapierre (Simon & Schuster, 1965).
Honoré de Balzac
Balzac (1799–1850) was the first novelist to place Paris at the heart of his fiction, and travelers have a number of Balzac novels from which to choose: Cousine Bette, Eugénie Grandet, Old Goriot, Lost Illusions, The Unknown Masterpiece, The Wrong Side of Paris.
Balzac’s Paris: A Guided Tour (balzacsparis.ucr.edu) is an outstanding online resource that I stumbled upon while working on this manuscript. It’s a promenade through the heart of Paris in the time of Balzac, described through some of his works and accompanied by maps and engravings, and it’s wonderful. The site is composed of materials from the Vernon Duke Collection in the special collections department of the University of California Riverside library. Duke was the songwriter who composed “April in Paris,” and his collection includes eight hundred books, rare maps, and other documents that present life and manners in Paris from the reign of Louis XVI to the end of the Belle Époque. To quote from the site, “One would have to go to the Musée Carnavalet in Paris to find a more comprehensive collection of original documents from this crucial time in the development of Paris.”
Many of the Parisian scenes that feature in Balzac’s novels take place along a route that’s very popular with tourists today—from the Arc de Triomphe to the Concorde, the rue de Rivoli and Palais Royal, the Louvre, and on to the Île de la Cité and the Latin Quarter. This route was the scene, to quote Balzac, of the greatest “splendors” and “miseries” of Parisian life during his time.

Alan Furst
“Astonishingly,” wrote Janet Maslin in the New York Times in 2000, “Alan Furst is not yet a household name.” If you don’t yet recognize his name, I urge you to read one of his very good thrillers (I doubt you will stop with just one), and if you do already know Furst’s name, I know you will agree with Maslin’s remark. I am not generally a reader of thrillers, and I even hesitate to refer to Furst’s books as thrillers, because they’re so much more—I prefer to think of them as espionage novels that are amazingly evocative and atmospheric. Paris is the backdrop, major or minor, in nearly all of his books. These include The World at Night (1996), Red Gold (1999), The Polish Officer (1995), Dark Star (1991), Night Soldiers (1988), The Foreign Correspondent (2006), and The Spies of Warsaw (2008), all currently available in Random House paperback editions. (Spies of the Balkans, published in 2010, is Furst’s most recent book, though the action takes place in Greece.)
Furst told New York Times writer Rachel Donadio that after he wrote a few desultory novels, “I suddenly realized there could be such a thing as a historical spy novel … but I went looking to read one and I couldn’t find one.” So he set out to write one, and the result was Night Soldiers. In a 2008 interview with Charles McGrath, also at the Times, Furst explained that the Europe he describes so perfectly in his books is largely a place he carries around in his head and visits at will—he referred to it as being like teleportation. “The first time it happened,” the piece reports, “was in the early ’90s, when he was listening to a tape he had bought of Django Reinhardt and Stéphane Grappelli playing in Paris with the Hot Club of France in 1937.” Furst said, “I went right there, to that nightclub in Paris, with war coming on, and the Spanish Civil War in the background, and the purges going on in Moscow.… I smelled the smoke, the cheap perfume. The whole thing just came to me, and I knew I wanted to put it in a novel.”
Literary Paris, Jeffrey Kraft (Watson-Guptill, 1999). Though this book includes passages that are the author’s own very real observations and opinions, the inspiration for it is wholly literary, which is why I have included it in this section. As Kraft states, “My choice of text is just that, my own. I am only a devoted student of French literature,” and he has chosen choice lines from works by Apollinaire, Barthes, Baudelaire, Brillat-Savarin, Hugo, James, Joyce, Rimbaud, Saint-Exupéry, Sand, Stein, and Zola, just to name a few. Kraft’s black-and-white photos are quite nice, and his literary selections steered me toward a few works I was eager to read in full. I like the way he describes Paris as characterized by both grandeur and décadence (decline), Balzac and Proust: “While we are there it is the city of Balzac … yet in memory Paris is Proustian, a gradual unfolding backward.”
Mademoiselle Victorine, Debra Finerman (Three Rivers, 2007).
The Mark of the Angel, Nancy Huston (Vintage, 2000).
Mavis Gallant
Most of Gallant’s short stories are set in Paris or are about Parisians, or both, and her characters and scenes are unforgettable. In my favorite, “Across the Bridge,” Sylvie’s mother turns her leather bag, filled with Sylvie and Arnaud’s wedding invitations, upside down over the Seine—one of the most memorable short story images I’ve ever encountered. Other memorable stories are gathered in The Collected Stories of Mavis Gallant (1996) and Overhead in a Balloon: Twelve Stories of Paris (1987), both published by Random House. These volumes are out of print—though very much worth tracking down—but New York Review of Books Classics has recently published two great editions, Paris Stories (2002) and The Cost of Living: Early and Uncollected Stories (2009).
Ernest Hemingway
I will always remember how reading Hemingway made me feel when I was a student in Paris—I loved reading his books and I was bursting with happiness. Years later, I came across the following quote in an article in Gourmet by Gene Bourg, and was relieved that someone else had “got it” and set things straight: “In A Moveable Feast Hemingway postulated that once a man has been young and happy in Paris, he can never be truly happy again. Agreeing with him would be very dangerous indeed. But agreeing and understanding are entirely different things.”
Over the years I went on to read just about everything Hemingway wrote, but it all began with A Moveable Feast and The Sun Also Rises. Both are set wholly or partly in Paris and both, I’m happy to say, are just as good in the rereading as they were thirty-two years ago.
Les Misérables, Victor Hugo.
The Moon and Sixpence, W. Somerset Maugham.
A Paris Hangover, Kirsten Lobe (St. Martin’s, 2006).
Pictures at an Exhibition, Sara Houghteling (Knopf, 2009).
Sarah’s Key, Tatiana de Rosnay (St. Martin’s, 2007).
A Tale of Two Cities, Charles Dickens.
The Year Is ’42, Nella Bielski (Pantheon, 2004).
Muriel Barbery
It was the title of Barbery’s novel The Elegance of the Hedgehog (Europa, 2008) that got my attention first, and then when I read that Renée, one of the main characters, is the concierge of twenty-seven years at “number 7, rue de Grenelle, a fine hôtel particulier with a courtyard and private gardens,” I was completely hooked. As a student I lived with a French family in a hôtel particulier also on the rue de Grenelle, also with a courtyard and private garden. The book turned out to be one of the best books I’ve ever read. Really. I have stuffed so many little papers in it to mark so many memorable and beautiful passages, like this one: “We have to live with the certainty that we’ll get old and that it won’t look nice or be good or feel happy. And tell ourselves that it’s now that matters: to build something, now, at any price, using all our strength. Always remember that there’s a retirement home waiting somewhere and so we have to surpass ourselves every day, make every day undying. Climb our own personal Everest and do it in such a way that every step is a little bit of eternity. That’s what the future is for: to build the present, with real plans, made by living people.”
Gourmet Rhapsody (Europa, 2009) is equally brilliant and unique, and takes place in the same building. The “greatest food critic in the world,” Pierre Arthens, is dying, and his last wish is to identify a flavor that he can’t remember. He knows that “this particular flavor is the first and ultimate truth of my entire life,” and he knows that the flavor dates back to childhood or adolescence, predating his vocation as a food critic. In alternating chapters we meet members of Arthens’s family and others in the building, and after Arthens relates some of the best eating experiences of his life, we do finally learn the flavor he’s searching for in the final chapter. (I didn’t guess it, and I will only say that it comes as a bit of a surprise.)
Novel Ideas
“Novel Ideas” was the title of a March 2009 article written by David Burke in the (wonderful) former Paris Notes newsletter. In it, Burke—who moved to Paris in 1986 intending to stay for a year but has now been there twenty-five—shares a quote by Italian writer Leonardo Sciascia that I love: “Paris is a book city, a written city, a printed city. A book city made of thousands of books. A city that might be called a library’s dream, if a library had the ability to dream.” And Burke had the envious task of living that dream while he worked on his unique and engaging book Writers in Paris: Literary Lives in the City of Light (Counterpoint, 2008). He had the opportunity to page through books, study maps, paintings, and photographs, and walk all over the city tracking down literary sites. “All of this was rich and rewarding,” he notes, “but what really brought Paris to life for me were the great Paris novels and the lives of their characters, who illuminated the soul of the city.”
His book is filled with dozens and dozens of authors and works of fiction, as well as maps, so readers may craft literary itineraries of their own. Burke writes that “immersion creates its rewards,” a statement with which I wholeheartedly agree, and he aptly observes that our appreciation of writers’ lives and work, and Paris itself, “is heightened by following them from place to place in our imaginations or, even better, in our walking shoes.”

WALKING TOURS

There are many ways to walk around Paris. You can set yourself precise destinations, or just drift along. With a guidebook in hand, you can try to systematically explore a neighborhood, or else you can just take the first bus that comes along and ride it to the end of the line, or you can try to go places by taking a different route from the one you normally take. Or else you can devise a route by deliberately imposing arbitrary rules that will restrict matters even more, such as, for example, taking streets whose names begin with the same letter, or going exclusively in alphabetical order, or in some particular chronology. In practice, these itineraries are extremely difficult to work out. During the course of one’s walks, with the aid of guidebooks and maps, one can follow them more or less in their entirety. For the stroller who restricts himself like that, Paris becomes a giant labyrinth that during the course of his peregrinations gives him the feeling of having left the beaten path.

—Georges Perec, Paris

While it’s always nice to simply wander aimlessly, have a day or two on your trip without a single plan or reservation, it’s equally important that other days be more structured, with sites to see, architecture to admire, and cafés to linger at. As I noted in the introduction, the more you plan, the more free time you have, and walking tours give you just that. Sometimes, a plan to just amble along the rues is structure enough, as François Baudot, in the introduction to Paris (Assouline, 2004), wisely notes: “You drift in Venice, you meander in Rome, you wander in Madrid. In New York, you go from point A to point B. You often get lost in Tokyo. You always find your way in Marrakesh. In London, you catch a taxi; in Seville, a sunstroke. But only in Paris do you stroll.” Along with Thirza Vallois’s trio of Around and About Paris, the following are my favorite walking tour books. I continue to use these even though I know exactly what I will encounter and where I will end up.

Impressionist Paris: The Essential Guide to the City of Light, Julian More (Pavilion, 1999). This illustrated hardcover isn’t particularly hard to pack, but it’s a little hard to conceive of carrying it around while walking, as it’s thick and heavy. I recommend making photocopies of the pages you want to bring along. It is a very good and interesting (if not quite “essential”) guide, and More, who has lived in France for many years, is also the author of some of my favorite books, including Views from a French Farmhouse. In eight chapters, More proposes walks and drives within Paris proper as well as in Fontainebleau, Giverny, and along the Seine and Oise rivers. Each is more of a “contemplative ramble” than a heavy hike or tour, “to be taken at your own speed and leisure.” Visits outside Paris can be done within a day, and walks are full-day or half-day adventures. More describes his book as being “mainly about looking. Looking at paintings, looking at town and country, absorbing a distinct atmosphere that still exists.”
The Impressionists’ Paris: Walking Tours of the Artists’ Studios, Homes, and the Sites They Painted, Ellen Williams (Little Bookroom, 1997). With twenty color reproductions of artworks, period café and restaurant recommendations, maps, and vintage photographs, this great little (about 5 × 7 inches) hardcover features the works of Manet, Degas, Monet, Renoir, Bazille, and Caillebotte. (Pissarro, whose Parisian street scenes seem to beg inclusion, is left out since, as Williams notes in the afterword, he didn’t begin painting his grands boulevards canvases until the 1880s, whereas this book focuses on the 1860s and 1870s.) I’ve used this book (and the Picasso one below) several times, following each route to the letter, and I continue to be amazed at how many sites depicted in the paintings remain the same. The author’s recommendations for cafés and restaurants have all turned out to be memorable spots.
A Paris Walking Guide: 20 Charming Strolls through the Streets, Courtyards, and Gardens of Paris, translated by David Cox (Parigramme, 2009). This is a more compact edition of Parigramme’s twenty-volume guide to the arrondissements of Paris, the Guides du Promeneur, and it is a must-have book, but only available in France. I bought it in Paris and saw it in many bookstores and museum shops there. There are two guiding premises for the series: “We never see—or only poorly see—things that have not been pointed out” and “Seeing and learning changes our lives.” There is much in this edition that does not appear in any other English-language guidebook, and the walks are terrific.
Pariswalks, Sonia, Alison, and Rebecca Landes (Henry Holt, 2005, sixth edition). The Walks series has been a favorite of mine since it first appeared in 1981, originating with the Paris guide. This edition features walks through five of the oldest neighborhoods of Paris: Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, La Huchette, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, Mouffetard, and Place des Vosges. Each walk is about two and a half hours, and after each one you’ll be “a friend and possessor of the quartier forever.” I share the authors’ enthusiasm for getting to know a part of the city intimately, what they call “close-up tourism.” Two useful tips: morning walks are recommended because courtyard doors in both business and residential buildings remain open for mail and other deliveries, and sitting on the grass is not interdit in the Square René-Viviani, next to little Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre. However, recommendations for cafés, restaurants, hotels, and shops are covered better in other books.
Picasso’s Paris: Walking Tours of the Artist’s Life in the City, Ellen Williams (Little Bookroom, 1999). This sister volume to the Impressionists guide above is equally appealing, and it’s not just for first-time visitors. As Williams notes, “Following in the footsteps of this one extraordinary inhabitant can reveal entirely new aspects of the city even to those familiar with it.” Picasso lived in four neighborhoods in Paris—Montmartre, Montparnasse, Étoile, and Saint-Germain-des-Prés—and happily, as Williams discovered, most of his Paris still exists today. The four museums in Paris that display his work are included in this volume. As with the Impressionists guide, this one also has a red ribbon marker, a thoughtful touch for walkers who want to easily mark a page while looking around or stopping for a vin ordinaire.
Secret Paris: Walking Off the Beaten Track, Jacques Garance and Maud Ratton (Jonglez, 2007). I bought this in Paris and in North America it’s probably available only online, but wherever you see it buy it tout de suite! This slender paperback is filled with things to see in Paris that, almost exclusively, do not appear in any other book. Take, par example, the first arrondissement: until I picked up this book, I had never even heard of the strange image of Napoléon at the Colonnade de Perrault at the Louvre, the Galerie Dorée of the Banque de France, or the Colonne Médicis on the rue de Viarmes … not to mention the Cercle Suédois, the Swedish club where Alfred Nobel created the Nobel Prize in 1895 and where you can, twice a month on Wednesdays, see the desk he sat at and have a drink in rooms that overlook the Jardin des Tuileries … or the commemorative plaque of the Texas embassy at the corner of rue de Castiglione and Place Vendôme (the state of Texas established its own embassy in Paris after it gained its independence from Mexico in 1836 and before it became a U.S. state in 1845). This book is an eye-opener and a gem.
Walks Through Napoléon & Joséphine’s Paris, Diana Reid Haig (Little Bookroom, 2004). I bought this book because of the affection my daughter has for Napoléon—as she’s only eleven, she’s not quite an expert (yet). But when we were in Ajaccio, on the island of Corsica, we visited Napoléon’s childhood home and saw statues aplenty of him—so many that Alyssa began referring to him as “you know who.” I thought the book would be fun and interesting for her, and indeed it has proven to be so. The four walks detailed here—and the itineraries for Malmaison and Fontainebleau—are wonderful for me, too.

If you prefer guided walking tours, here are a few that I highly recommend:

* Context Travel (contexttravel.com) offers very in-depth walking tours for small groups (no more than six) of “intellectually curious travelers.” The walks are led by scholars and specialists in such fields as archaeology, art history, cuisine, urban planning, history, environmental science, and classics. What initally drew me to Context was its stated mission, which sounds very compatible with The Collected Traveler: “We are committed to the character of the city—its built environment, cultural heritage, and living fabric.” Just a few of the company’s Paris tours are Paris by Riverboat, Louvre French Masters, Modernist Architecture, and Marais Mansions; there are family walks specifically geared to kids as well. Context, based in Philadelphia, offers equally terrific tours in eleven other cities, including Athens, Istanbul, Rome, Venice, New York, Boston, and Philadelphia.
* Isabelle Hauller, a conférencière officielle and docteur en histoire de l’art, has tours listed on the Paris Balades Web site (parisbalades.com/hauller). Her tours are in French, and she sends monthly e-mail updates of her offerings so you may reserve in advance.
* Centre des Monuments Nationaux (monuments-nationaux.fr). This government organization offers guided tours of many well-known monuments and gardens in all regions of France.

Before you depart on a walk, remember to bring something to record the names of interesting spots you pass that you may want to return to later. Unless they state otherwise, guides appreciate tips, so if you feel yours was particularly good, give him or her a few extra euros. Guides are also good sources of information and typically enjoy sharing the names of some favorite places (often little visited by tourists). They’re there to answer your questions, so don’t hesitate to query them after your tour.

INTERVIEW
Patricia Wells

Like many other people, when I first picked up The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris by Patricia Wells, I knew I was holding a significant book in my hands, a book positively like no other, one I just knew was going to change my life, the way Paris itself had. Indeed it did, and to this day I count the guide among my favorite books in the world. The Food Lover’s Guide “cracked the code,” as Patricia notes in We’ve Always Had Paris … and Provence: “We made it possible for every American who came to the city to feel comfortable, knowledgeable in ordering that steak rare, daring to sample that warm foie gras, willing to take the Métro out to the twentieth arrondissement to sample Bernard Ganachaud’s crusty sourdough bread, or confident that they knew what to swoon over when they could get a table at Jamin, the new hit restaurant.” And here’s the remarkable thing: even though the guide’s last edition was published in 1999 (Workman), it is still indispensable. Many of the places to eat, purveyors, and shops are still in business today; Patricia’s notes and tips are still accurate; the recipes she provides are still winners (whenever I bake madeleines and financiers I turn to this book); and the French-English culinary glossary at the back of the book is the most extensive you’ll find in any similar book (I made a copy of it years ago and still bring it with me to France).

  

  Photo Credit 13.1

Of course, since she compiled this book, Wells went on to write The Food Lover’s Guide to France (Workman, 1987), which I also still use, and eight cookbooks, including Bistro Cooking (Workman, 1989), Simply French: Patricia Wells Presents the Cuisine of Joël Robuchon (William Morrow, 1991), and The Paris Cookbook (HarperCollins, 2001). She also served as restaurant critic for the French newsweekly L’Express, the only woman and only foreigner ever to have held the post. Additionally, Wells teaches cooking classes both in Paris and at her eighteenth-century home in Provence, Chanteduc. More recently, in 2008, she and her husband, Walter, wrote We’ve Always Had Paris … and Provence: A Scrapbook of Our Life in France (Harper), which I read in two days because I just couldn’t stop reading about their thirty years together in France. It was Walter’s career move from the New York Times to the International Herald Tribune that brought the couple to Paris. He recalls in the book that, with hindsight, the decision to go to Paris was right, but he asks: “Why Paris? What was it about the city that pulled us there and kept us? Well, how high is the sky? It’s not that the answer is elusive, or the answers, because there are millions of them in words and images and none of them are more adequate than grunts and blurs. The ones that are adequate are personal and intense and they have grown and changed over thirty years. I don’t remember now how many of my own answers were obvious in 1980. But both as a new arrival and as a longtime resident, a hundred times a day if not a thousand I found something that brought passing delight.”

  

  Photo Credit 13.2

I missed meeting Patricia and Walter when I was last in Paris, and I look forward to the day when I will (hopefully) meet them. But in the meantime, I caught up with Patricia via e-mail in between cooking classes:

Q: Had you visited Paris before you moved to the city in the first week of January 1980?
A: I first visited in January of 1972 and it was love at first sight!
Q: Some years after you moved to Paris you also bought a house in Provence. How much time do you spend now in Paris?
A: We basically spend from May to October in Provence and in Paris, with frequent trips back to Provence and the United States, in the fall and winter months.
Q: The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris was updated four times. Did you anticipate how successful it would be?
A: I always feel that if I am crazy in love with something and write about it, there will be enough people that feel the way I do. It turned out that way, and it was a wonderful way to launch a book career.
Q: There really is no other book like the Food Lover’s Guide, before or since. Why did you decide not to continue updating it?
A: As the world became more and more digital and Paris began to change more and more quickly it seemed that, by the time I updated it, it would be out of date. Keep in mind that the book was written before home computers, sticky notes, faxes, e-mail, Federal Express, etc.—we wrote our notes on carbon paper and had to mail in the copy! I also felt that all the time I spent updating the guide would take me away from other writing and researching.
Q: Can you name a handful of places that appeared in the first edition that you still frequent today?
A: So many places. Of course, the grand restaurants that were small ones when the first guide came out, such as Guy Savoy (18 rue Troyon, 17ème) and Robuchon (La Table de Joël Robuchon, 16 avenue Bugeaud, 16ème; L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon, 5 rue de Montalembert, 7ème). The great majority of the restaurants in the first guide either don’t exist anymore or have changed hands many times over. We may go back to many of the originals—such as Chez les Anges (54 rue de la Tour Maubourg, 7ème) and Le Chiberta (3 rue Aresène-Houssaye, 8ème), which kept the name but is a totally different restaurant now. For cafés of course we still go to Café de Flore (172 boulevard Saint-Germain, 6ème) and Le Dôme Café (108 boulevard du Montparnasse, 14ème); for wine bars, Willi’s (13 rue des Petits-Champs, 1er) and Au Sauvignon (80 rue des Saints-Pères, 7ème); and all of the markets, which of course have changed the least over the years in terms of stability. We still get coffee at La Brûlerie des Ternes (10 rue Poncelet, 17ème), chocolate at La Maison du Chocolat (original location at 52 rue François 1er, 8ème, and other locations), bread at Poilâne (8 rue du Cherche-Midi, 6ème).
Q: In an essay you wrote for Bon Appétit (May 2001), you noted that the number of female chefs in Paris seemed to have declined by that time. You also noted that Parisians were still rather reluctant about global cuisine, that “the French flirtation with foreign influences is so light as to be nonexistent.” Are there more female chefs in Paris today, and have Parisians more fully embraced outside culinary influences?
A: I don’t know the exact number of female chefs in Paris today but they still are very small in number. It is still a very physical job and one that is difficult for anyone who wants to raise a family. Parisians today certainly embrace all manner of cuisines but stay faithful to their own since there is so much variety.
Q: How many classes do you offer in Paris in a calendar year, and how quickly do they fill up? How far in advance do you recommend interested participants confirm?
A: We announce our classes in November two years in advance, so that in November 2010, for example, we announce the class schedule for 2012. Almost all classes fill up completely, but it is hard to say how far in advance people should reserve. The best is to watch the Web site (patriciawells.com), which always gives an idea of spaces available.
Q: I see that you’ve recently offered Tastes of Vietnam classes. What inspired you to teach there?
A: A student who has ties to Vietnam asked if we wanted to do it and it seemed like a perfect challenge. And it was. We have also taught classes in Florence, Venice, and Verona.
Q: What is your favorite time of year in Paris?
A: I always offer classes in Paris in the spring. I love the first-of-season asparagus, peas, baby artichokes, spring lamb, strawberries, and even great tomatoes from Sicily.
Q: Which arrondissement do you live in, and what are some of your most frequent stops in your neighborhood?
A: We live in the seventh and I have my office in the sixth. Favorite haunts are of course Bon Marché (24 rue de Sèvres, 7ème) for both the department store and food hall; Fish La Boissonnerie (69 rue de Seine, 6ème) for dinner; Fromagerie Quatrehomme (62 rue de Sèvres, 7ème) for cheese; the boulevard Raspail street market on Tuesday, Friday, and Sunday; La Dernière Goutte (6 rue Bourbon le Château, 6ème) for wine; Huilerie Leblanc (6 rue Jacob, 6ème) for oil; and Poilâne for bread.
Q: How long were you working at the International Herald Tribune?
A: I worked there from 1980 on, and still do some occasional writing, but gave up my restaurant critic job in 2007.
Q: You’ve obviously experienced a lot of changes in Paris over the last thirty years. Have some things remained the same? And in what ways do you feel Paris changed you?
A: As I said earlier, the markets are the one constant, though the increased availability of produce is one big change. When we moved to Paris, people dressed up, men in sport coats on weekends, women in dresses. Now it seems everyone dresses the same all over the world. Stores are open longer hours. Many small places have gone out of business, but I am pleased to see that there are still so many independent shopkeepers with great boutiques.
Q: I suspect that your wine Clos Chanteduc—a Côtes-du-Rhône that received a score of 89 from Robert Parker—is the one that occupies the most space in your wine cellar. Is it available in the States?
A: Eric Solomon of Eric Solomon Selections (europeancellars.com) is now our importer.
Q: Are you working on a new book?
A: Yes! Two books, to be out in 2011: Salad as a Meal and Simply Truffles, both published by William Morrow.
Q: Will you ever move back to the States?
A: Never say never, but we have no plans to return for good.

At any season, and all year long, in the evening the view of the city from the bridges was always exquisitely pictorial. One’s eyes became the eyes of a painter, because the sight itself approximated art, with the narrow, pallid façades of the buildings lining the river; with the tall trees growing down by the water’s edge; with, behind them, the vast chiaroscuro of the palatial Louvre, lightened by the luminous lemon color of the Paris sunset off toward the west; with the great square, pale stone silhouette of Notre-Dame to the east. The stance from which to see Paris was any one of the bridges at the close of the day. The Pont Neuf still looked as we had known it on the canvases of Sisley and Pissarro.

Paris then seemed immutably French. The quasi-American atmosphere which we had tentatively established around Saint-Germain had not yet infringed onto the rest of the city. In the early twenties, when I was new there, Paris was still yesterday.

—Janet Flanner, Paris Was Yesterday: 1925–1939

Photo Credit 13.3

LES QUARTIERS

It would take volumes and libraries to tell the story of the Marais, so profoundly French is it in every stone, so tied to the wandering of History that human forgetfulness and urban development could do it no harm.
—LÉON-PAUL FARGUE,
Le Piéton de Paris
In spite of its glamorous appearance, Paris is a hidden, private city. You only get to see inside when Parisians decide to let you in. And they only let you in when they know who you are.
—JEAN-BENOÎT NADEAU AND JULIE BARLOW,
Sixty Million Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong

Photo Credit p3.1

The New Left Bank
ALEXANDER LOBRANO

AS THE AUTHOR of this piece aptly notes, it’s really been only recently that the tenth arrondissement was considered worthy of locating in your plan de Paris, let alone considered hip. Yet that is what it has definitely become, along with neighborhoods in the eleventh and twelfth.

ALEXANDER LOBRANO lives in Paris and was European correspondent for ten years for the former Gourmet, where this piece originally appeared in a longer version. He is also the author of Hungry for Paris (Random House, 2010, second edition) and was an editor of the Zagat guide to Paris restaurants. Readers may follow Lobrano’s restaurant adventures at his Diner’s Journal postings on his Web site (hungryforparis.squarespace.com).

 WHEN MY FRIEND Catherine moved from the Marais to the tenth arrondissement eleven years ago, I needed a map to get to her housewarming party. Even though I’d lived in Paris for decades, the only reason I’d ever been in the tenth was to catch a train. Back then, most Parisians would have told you the same. But as I emerged from the Métro on that crisp Indian-summer night, I found myself bowled over by a charming new city.

High wrought-iron footbridges arched over the gray waters of the stone-lined Canal Saint-Martin, dotted here and there with vivid spots of color from a few fallen leaves. The whole area was peaceful and pretty and suggested a poignancy I’d not before experienced in this city. Catherine’s apartment turned out to be terrific, too. After selling her small place in the Marais, she’d landed a sunny loft with oak floors and casement windows. Best of all, she no longer had a mortgage. This real estate grand slam was the talk of the party, but even though I envied my friend, I couldn’t imagine giving up my place in Saint-Germain-des-Prés. Besides, there was no place to shop or eat in the tenth.

A couple of weeks later, I found myself back in the tenth, at a new restaurant called Chez Michel. Chef Thierry Breton’s food was brilliant, but my dining companion and I agreed that the poor guy had made a big mistake with the location. Needless to say, Chez Michel is now packed nightly, and these days Catherine has an admirable choice of restaurants practically at her doorstep. If those first change-of-address cards announcing new homes in unfamiliar arrondissements were an occasional curiosity back then, these days I’m surprised when I notice a move that hasn’t landed someone in the tenth, eleventh, twelfth, nineteenth, or twentieth arrondissement. The ninth, a central neighborhood once known as La Nouvelle Athènes because of its neoclassical architecture, is on the upswing, too, for those priced out of prime areas like Saint-Germain.

Affordable real estate partly explains the accelerating migration into these formerly down-at-the-heels neighborhoods, but many also choose them for their old-fashioned ambience, at once relaxed and convivial. “It was such a relief to escape the bourgeois prissiness of the seventh,” another friend told me after finding an apartment overlooking the Parc des Buttes-Chaumont, in the nineteenth, a still-gritty area but one brimming with wonderfully quirky shops (and entirely free of the international brands and chain stores back in Saint-Germain).

I’ll always love the Left Bank (it’s still where you’ll find the best hotels), but like almost all of my Parisian friends, I head deep into the double-digit arrondissements so often now that I no longer need a map. If you do the same, you’ll be rewarded not just with good food but also with a fascinating glimpse of the quartiers the French consider the Paris of the twenty-first century.

TENTH ARRONDISSEMENT

Think of this area as a developing photograph, an image progressing from blurred first impression to materialization in detail. Until very recently, this neighborhood was one of the more anonymous parts of Paris—rootless and slightly forlorn, thanks to the fact that its main business has always been getting people in and out of town, through either the Gare du Nord or the Gare de l’Est. It doesn’t help that the grid of streets here is slashed crosswise by two pounding arteries (the boulevard de Magenta and the rue La Fayette) whose sole purpose is whisking passengers between the stations and the rest of the city. That snapshot of indeterminacy has changed, though; today, the tenth has been reborn as one of the most dramatic neighborhoods in the city.

Good bones helped: The Canal Saint-Martin, a glorious nineteenth-century waterway, connects to the Seine through a path of leafy planes, poplars, and chestnuts, begging you to wander along its banks, catching some sun by day or lingering over a bottle of wine in the evening. It finally occurred to young hipsters how supremely desirable—not to mention how affordable—it might be to live beside a onetime working canal. This aquatic spine of the quartier began to gentrify a few years ago (it’s no longer such a bargain), but if you stroll down any of its side streets, you’ll still find one of the most unusual urban oases anywhere in the world.

The rue du Château-d’Eau, for example, is the epicenter of African hairdressing, almost entirely lined with brightly colored barber shops and beauty parlors. But every now and then, something else sneaks in. Something like Globus France, a shop that sells charcuterie from Bosnia, Serbia, Croatia, Romania, Poland, and Hungary. On the rue Cail, everything is Indian, including the wonderful vegetarian restaurant Krishna-Bhavan, tucked amid shops and clothing stores. The jewel of the rue du Faubourg-Saint-Martin is the foppishly opulent Mairie du 10ème Arrondissement, or town hall, a massive mock–Loire Valley château, finished in 1896, that rather comically lords it over the neighboring clutch of Turkish cafés. Nearby is the pedestrian Passage Brady, a glass-roofed nineteenth-century arcade that’s become a legendary destination for backpackers, stuffed as it is with cheap Indian and Pakistani restaurants. (Try Le Passage de Pondichéry.) Just a few blocks over, on the rue de Marseille, branches of chic clothiers are sprouting up, and you’ll also find Du Pain et des Idées, one of the best new bakeries in Paris.

Generations of privileged Parisian brides have chosen their porcelain, stemware, and silver on the irresistibly named rue de Paradis, where most of the major French crystal manufacturers had their showrooms. (It’s a convenient walk from the Gare de l’Est, which serves the province of Lorraine, where the crystal factories of Baccarat and Saint-Louis are still located.) Today most of the crystal showrooms have moved to more conventionally stylish precincts, but there’s still some great tabletop shopping in the area. At no. 18, you’ll find the stop-you-in-your-tracks-grandiose Magasins de Vente des Faïenceries de Choisy-le-Roi, the former showroom of the ceramic works that supplied the tiles for the Paris Métro. Intended to broadcast the company’s savoir-faire, the interior is elaborately decorated in an odd neoclassical theme complete with urns and busts.

Is it my imagination, or are the paving stones outside the Gare du Nord almost eternally damp, an avant-goût of life under gray northern skies? But there’s also grandeur here, in the façade of female statues, each representing a destination served (Amsterdam, Berlin, Warsaw), that look down from pedestals with goddesslike hauteur. Of course, Paris towers above them all. The Gare de l’Est, on the other hand, reflects Alsace’s Germanic aspect and quietly bristles with regional pride, as reflected by En Passant par la Lorraine, which sells Alsatian eaux-de-vie and eight-packs of boutique brewers suds.

Around the corner, the rue des Récollets (punctuated by an unexpected breath of fresh air from the gardens of a medieval convent) leads to the Canal Saint-Martin, a hardscrabble precinct of workshops and small factories turned dreamy enclave of the city. Originally commissioned by Napoléon, the canal was built between 1805 and 1825 by engineer Pierre-Simon Girard, who had studied the hydraulics of the Nile during Napoléon’s Egyptian campaign. It became a major freight route into central Paris and commercialized what had been a relatively rural part of town beyond the city walls.

Linger near the canal and you’ll also pick up on the tenth’s particularly twenty-first-century gestalt, one that puts a premium on art and leisure over money and work, with an aesthetic soft spot for the sort of ironic retro gear on display in the windows of shops like Antoine et Lili. Not surprisingly, the streets on and around the canal have experienced a café boom. Spots like Chez Prune and Le Poisson Rouge are packed around the clock, and while there’s no grande dame like Saint-Germain’s fabled Café de Flore, the tenth can hold its own with the bar at the Hôtel du Nord, familiar to many thanks to Marcel Carné’s memorable film of the same name. Stylish restaurants like Ploum and La Cantine de Quentin let you see what the cool crowd likes to eat these days, from Ploum’s spinach in sesame cream to the Parmesan risotto served by Guy Savoy alum Johann Baron at La Cantine.

Away from the canal, the tenth harbors appealing modern places like Odile Guyader’s laid-back Café Panique and Thierry Breton’s brilliant Chez Michel. There are also wonderful fly-in-amber places, most specifically the delightful La Grille, which may serve the best turbot au beurre blanc in Paris. But to borrow a line of Arletty, the star of Hôtel du Nord, what all these places have most in common is simply “Atmosphère! Atmosphère!

Tenth Arrondissement Address Book

Antoine et Lili (95 quai de Valmy / +33 01 40 37 41 55).

Café Panique (12 rue des Messageries / +33 01 47 70 06 84).

La Cantine de Quentin (52 rue Bichat / +33 01 42 02 40 32).

Chez Jeannette (47 rue du Faubourg-Saint-Denis / +33 01 47 70 30 89). Hugely popular café offers a perfect snapshot of the tenth’s laid-back style.

Chez Michel (10 rue de Belzunce / +33 01 44 53 06 20).

Chez Prune (71 quai de Valmy / +33 01 42 41 30 47).

Coin Canal (1 rue de Marseille / +33 01 42 38 00 30). Furniture from the fifties, sixties, and seventies.

Du Pain et des Idées (34 rue Yves-Toudic / +33 01 42 40 44 52).

En Passant par la Lorraine (Gare de l’Est / +33 01 40 35 47 80).

Furet Tanrade (63 rue de Chabrol / +33 01 47 70 48 34). Fabulous small-batch jams and savory éclairs.

Globus France (74 rue du Château-d’Eau / +33 01 42 47 00 58).

La Grille (80 rue du Faubourg-Poissonnière / +33 01 47 70 89 73).

Hôtel du Nord (102 quai de Jemmapes / +33 01 40 40 78 78).

Le Jemmapes (82 quai de Jemmapes / +33 01 40 40 02 35). Stylish café-restaurant with a casual menu.

Krishna-Bhavan (24 rue Cail / +33 01 42 05 78 34).

Le Look (17 rue Martel / +33 01 50 10 20 31). Hipster canteen, busy all day long.

Maria Luisa (2 rue Marie-et-Louise / +33 01 44 84 04 01). Brick walls, seventies funk, and the best pizza in Paris.

Le Martel (3 rue Martel / +33 01 47 70 67 56). A hip crowd and great French and North African food.

Le Passage de Pondichéry (84 passage Brady / +33 01 53 34 63 10).

Philippe Chaume (9 rue de Marseille / +33 01 42 39 12 60). An intriguing photo gallery.

Ploum (20 rue Alibert / +33 01 42 00 11 90).

Le Poisson Rouge (112 quai de Jemmapes / +33 01 40 40 07 11).

Urbane (12 rue Arthur-Groussier / +33 01 42 40 74 75). Relaxed canteen with a popular Sunday brunch.

Le Verre Volé (67 rue de Lancry / +33 01 48 03 17 34). Wonderful wine bar.

Wowo (11 rue de Marseille / +33 01 53 40 84 80).

Aux Zingots (12 rue de la Fidélité / +33 01 47 70 19 34). Friendly service, excellent wine list, and appealing bistro staples.

ELEVENTH AND TWELFTH ARRONDISSEMENTS

Anyone who goes to Paris to eat will tell you that the city has been steadily tilting east, specifically toward the eleventh and twelfth arrondissements. This is why I find myself staring at an exhibit of the potato-producing countries of the world inside a display case in the Parmentier Métro station. A wonderful expression of the French penchant for public edification, this stop was named in honor of Antoine-Augustin Parmentier, the agronomist who convinced his countrymen that potatoes were indeed edible (they were originally cultivated in France only as animal feed, and it was assumed their tubers were toxic to humans). The honor is appropriate, not only because of the shared subterranean bond between the subway and the elegantly named pomme de terre (“apple of the earth”), but also because the denizens of this venerable working-class district subsisted on a steady diet of potatoes for a long time.

Who knows what Parmentier would have made of the sudden popularity of daikon, wasabi, and all the other exotic root vegetables that have become a mainstay on menus in the eleventh and twelfth? My guess is he’d be dumbstruck to find that this slice of the city has become its trendiest gourmet destination, especially for those who want to taste what’s new without spending a small fortune.

L’est populaire, which encompasses the old, proletarian neighborhoods of Oberkampf, Ménilmontant, Bastille, Faubourg Saint-Antoine, Daumesnil, and Bercy, has gone gastro in a major way. It’s here that countless young chefs have chosen to set up shop, due in no small part to the low rents, but also to the demographic turnover that’s seen an influx of well-heeled bobos (bourgeois bohemians) with adventurous palates and a love of good food.

It was, curiously enough, the Opéra Bastille that got the ball rolling. This much derided building (many still compare it to a lavatory thanks to its glass blocks and skin of pale green tiles)—commissioned by President François Mitterrand as a symbol of his Socialist party’s devotion to making the performing arts accessible to working people—opened on July 13, 1989, to commemorate the two hundredth anniversary of the storming of the Bastille. Ironically, by drawing thousands of affluent Parisians to this part of the city for the first time (many of the locals found the programming uninteresting and the ticket prices too high), he set the stage for a real estate revolution.

Hot spots like the pioneering (but now defunct) China Club, a Shanghai-in-the-thirties-themed bar and restaurant, opened to cater to the fashionable culture vultures who discovered the charm of this old-fashioned neighborhood, which had been the center of furniture making in Paris for centuries (and which had already acquired a gloss of bohemian glamour from the free spirits who’d seized upon the low rents along the rue de Lappe and the rue Saint-Sabin a few years earlier). Following the completion of a second set of public works in the mid-nineties, these arrondissements—which had previously lacked any major attractions (even the perennially trendy Père-Lachaise cemetery is just across the street, in the twentieth)—became a destination for a broader public. The change began fourteen years ago with the conversion of a long-abandoned railway viaduct into the Promenade Plantée, a greenbelt walkway that runs all the way to the edge of the city. Underneath it, in a series of brick arches that were the support for the tracks themselves, the Viaduc des Arts became a street-level parade of shops devoted to arts and artisans. (Check out the handmade copper cookware at L’Atelier des Arts Culinaires.) In nearby Bercy, the transformation of the handsome brick warehouses that formerly served the wholesale wine trade (barges from Burgundy unloaded their cargo here) into shops, cafés, and restaurants gave way to a whole new neighborhood. Et voilà, eastern Paris, once snobbishly dismissed by the bourgeoisie, was suddenly hot, even fashionable.

But aside from a few old bistro standbys like Le Quincy and À la Biche au Bois, these neighborhoods didn’t have many restaurants to boast about. That situation has changed dramatically.

Rodolphe Paquin was one of the first chefs to take advantage of this vacuum when he opened Le Repaire de Cartouche, not far from the Place de la Bastille, more than ten years ago. “It was obvious the neighborhood was getting younger and more affluent,” he says. “The rent was half of what I’d have paid in the seventh or the eighth.” Inventive dishes like his carpaccio of calf’s head with oyster vinaigrette and his côte de sanglier (wild boar) with pickled beets have been packing them in ever since.

Paquin was a pioneer, but today this patch of Paris teems with destination restaurants, including Le Chateaubriand, one of the city’s best contemporary bistros and certainly its most popular. The talented young chef Inaki Aizpitarte first attracted attention at La Famille, in Montmartre. And since he moved to the Oberkampf section of the eleventh two years ago, his food has become even more intriguing. He does a single menu nightly, and it reflects both his background—he’s from the Basque country and traveled in Latin America and Israel before moving to Paris—and his sometime fascination with Japan. “Everything I do is intended to tease as much of the natural taste out of my produce as possible,” he says, and dishes like mackerel ceviche with Tabasco and slow-cooked tuna belly with asparagus and chorizo deliciously prove his point. His grilled pork belly with a sauce of réglisse (licorice root) and a small salad of grated celery root offers a brilliant contrast of textures and flavors.

Oberkampf is also a great bet for wine lovers. Le Marsangy, a relaxed and friendly bistro with very good food, has an excellent wine list, as does the consistently good Le Villaret. And there are regular wine tastings at La Cave de l’Insolite, one of the city’s most interesting new wine shops. (Nearby, La Bague de Kenza, on the rue Saint-Maur, sells the best Algerian pastries in Paris.)

In the Faubourg Saint-Antoine, the neighborhood that straddles the eleventh and twelfth arrondissements along the street of the same name, Le Bistrot Paul Bert has become so popular it can be tough to score a table. What drives this trio of cozy dining rooms decorated with flea market bric-a-brac is some of the best traditional bistro cooking to be found in Paris today. The chalkboard menu changes often but runs to dishes like coddled eggs with cèpes, coucou de Rennes (a Breton breed of chicken prized for its delicate flesh) in a sauce of morels and vin jaune, and their much loved signature dessert, a sublime Paris-Brest, the praline-buttercream-filled round choux pastry created to commemorate a bicycle race between the two cities from which it takes its name. L’Écailler du Bistrot, run by the same owners as Le Bistrot Paul Bert, is a terrific address for seafood lovers, and on the same street the hip La Cocotte, Argentinean-born Andrea Wainer’s wonderfully eclectic gastroshop, sells everything from cookbooks and table linens to kitchen equipment and the world’s best dulce de leche. Next door is Crus et Découvertes, a first-rate new wine shop.

Other excellent restaurants in the area include Au Vieux Chêne, serving up a delicious market-driven menu; Chez Ramulaud, a relaxed bistro with an inventive menu, a stylish crowd, and a great wine list; and La Gazzetta, where young Swedish chef Petter Nilsson has generated major word of mouth with dishes that are variously of Scandinavian, French, and Italian inspiration. With its loftlike décor, La Gazzetta has something of a New York City vibe, along with a menu that changes all the time. One night, roasted endive with dill, horseradish, lemon, and puréed almonds proved a parade of bitterness, acidity, sweetness, and heat; grilled cod with a side of Brussels sprout purée, fresh tarragon, and capers had a quiet elegance; and ricotta ice cream with ewe’s-milk cheese, hazelnuts, and olives made for an unexpectedly sexy grand finale.

The latest contender in eastern Paris’s new gastro sweepstakes is Le Cotte Rôti, a tiny place not far from the eminently gastronomic Marché d’Aligre. Despite the fact that he describes his restaurant as a bistro, young chef Michel Nicolas puts a lot more creativity into the menu than such a label would imply. His cooking veers between such surprises as an oyster milkshake and nougat de volaille (a sweet riff on chicken terrine) and homier dishes like pork loin roasted in hay and served with gratin dauphinois. Nicolas’s classical training (he worked with Marc Meneau at L’Espérance, in Burgundy) and respect for the best French produce are the perfect springboard for the kind of creativity found throughout the eleventh and twelfth, a part of the city that treasures the past as ardently as it loves discovering the new.

Eleventh/Twelfth Arrondissements Address Book

Astier (44 rue Jean-Pierre-Timbaud, 11ème / +33 01 43 57 16 35). Traditional bistro with a fantastic cheese tray.

L’Atelier des Arts Culinaires (111 avenue Daumesnil, 12ème / +33 01 43 40 20 20).

La Bague de Kenza (106 rue Saint-Maur, 11ème / +33 01 43 14 93 15).

Le Baron Rouge (1 rue Théophile-Roussel, 12ème / +33 01 43 43 14 32). A terrific neighborhood wine bar that’s packed with a young crowd.

À la Biche au Bois (45 avenue Ledru-Rollin, 12ème / +33 01 43 43 34 38).

Le Bistrot Paul Bert (18 rue Paul-Bert, 11ème / +33 01 43 72 24 01).

Le Bistrot du Peintre (116 avenue Ledru-Rollin, 12ème / +33 01 47 00 34 39). Art Nouveau café with decent food and a fun crowd.

Café Place Verte (105 rue Oberkampf, 11ème / +33 01 43 57 34 10). With an hors d’oeuvres bar and delicious plats du jour.

Café Titon (34 rue Titon, 11ème / +33 01 43 71 74 51). Where the shopkeepers and restaurateurs of the fashionable rue Paul-Bert hang out. Good for quick lunches; on Saturday, there’s a Sri Lankan spread.

La Cave de l’Insolite (30 rue de la Folie-Méricourt, 11ème / +33 01 53 36 08 33).

Le Chateaubriand (129 avenue Parmentier, 11ème / +33 01 43 57 45 95).

Chez Ramulaud (269 rue du Faubourg-Saint-Antoine, 11ème / +33 01 43 72 23 29).

La Cocotte (5 rue Paul-Bert, 11ème / +33 01 43 73 04 02).

Le Cotte Rôti (1 rue de Cotte, 12ème / +33 01 43 45 06 37).

Crus et Découvertes (7 rue Paul-Bert, 11ème / +33 01 43 71 56 79).

Le Duc de Richelieu (5 rue Parrot, 12ème / +33 01 43 43 05 64). Steps from the Gare de Lyon; a best bet for a hearty meal before or after traveling.

L’Écailler du Bistrot (22 rue Paul-Bert, 11ème / +33 01 43 72 76 77).

L’Équateur (151 rue Saint-Maur, 11ème / +33 01 43 57 99 22). Delicious Cameroonian and Senegalese cooking.

Eurotra (119 boulevard Richard-Lenoir, 11ème / +33 01 43 38 48 48). A sort of discount version of Dehillerin, the famous cookware store in Les Halles.

La Gazzetta (29 rue de Cotte, 12ème / +33 01 43 47 47 05).

Marché d’Aligre and Marché Beauvau (the covered market in the middle of the open-air Marché d’Aligre), two of the greatest and least-known markets of Paris, both with a distinctly neighborhood feel. (Place d’Aligre, 12ème.)

Le Marsangy (73 avenue Parmentier, 11ème / +33 01 47 00 94 25).

Le Pause Café (41 rue de Charonne, 11ème / +33 01 48 06 80 33). Trendy, with nice, simple food.

La Pharmacie (22 rue Jean-Pierre-Timbaud, 11ème / +33 01 48 06 28 33). A former drugstore; now a grocery store, organic tea salon, restaurant, and bookshop.

Le Quincy (28 avenue Ledru-Rollin, 12ème / +33 01 46 28 46 76).

Le Réfectoire (80 boulevard Richard-Lenoir, 11ème / +33 01 48 06 74 85). Hip little bistro specializing in nostalgic retro dishes.

Le Repaire de Cartouche (8 boulevard des Filles-du-Calvaire, 11ème / +33 01 47 00 25 86).

Au Vieux Chêne (7 rue du Dahomey, 11ème / +33 01 43 71 67 69).

Le Villaret (13 rue Ternaux, 11ème / +33 01 43 57 89 76).

“Paris gives me a frisson every time I arrive. Nowhere else affects me so physically and spiritually. Perhaps it is partly because I was not born a Parisienne but grew it into the fabric of my garments when spending my college years there and then visiting frequently every year all my life. I’m definitely a Left Bank lover, and my secret gardens are parts of the Luco (Luxembourg Gardens), especially around the Fontaine de Médicis and the upper southwest corner near rue Vavin. Square Paul-Painlevé, a tiny garden near the Sorbonne and the Cluny museum, and Place Dauphine, both of which I discovered while a student and used to sit in for hours reviewing for exams, still beckon me and the latest book I am reading. Flâner in Paris is another treat as there is so much beauty: buildings, shops, the bords de la Seine, inner courtyards, markets (particularly boulevard Raspail)—the aesthetic they transmit is signature Paris. Walks, walks, walks are Paris—say, on the way to a visit to the Rodin museum. These are a few of my favorite things. And then there’s the iconic sitting at the terrace of a café. I love it, whether on a main boulevard or on a small street. Eating out is me and whether eating a sandwich at a café, dining at a bistro, or celebrating New Year’s Eve at the Tour d’Argent, it is like nowhere else and, oh, so good. Paris for me is also going to the movies and the theater with friends and following with a discussion and deconstruction around a seafood platter.”
—Mireille Guiliano, author of French Women Don’t Get Fat

On the Île Saint-Louis
HERBERT GOLD

THIS IS MY FAVORITE piece written about the lovely Île Saint-Louis.

HERBERT GOLD is the author of more than twenty books, including the memoir Still Alive: A Temporary Condition (Arcade, 2008), Best Nightmare on Earth: A Life in Haiti (Prentice Hall, 1991), Fathers (Random House, 1967), Daughter Mine (St. Martin’s, 2000), and my favorite, Bohemia: Where Art, Angst, Love, and Strong Coffee Meet (Simon & Schuster, 1993). I share the following passage from Bohemia that I particularly love not because it is about the Île Saint-Louis but because of the singular Parisian spirit it portrays, which residents of the Île would appreciate:
A fellow Fulbright scholar, studying in Belgium, happened to arrive for his first visit to Paris on July 14, Bastille Day, when the entire city was strung with colored lights. Bands played on every corner, or at least flutes and musettes; people were dancing, singing, embracing, inviting us and anyone else nearby to join them for their wine and food. It recalled the soupers fraternels of revolutionary times, when the people of Paris set their tables outside, lay extra places for hungry or convivial passersby who wished to share bread, wine, and cheese. This Bastille Day mood, after war and Nazi occupation, was one of spiritual orgy, a festival nourished by deep griefs. My friend saw only the gaiety. He looked about at the hubbub, sighed, and said, “I always knew Paris would be like this.” Paris, of course, is not really like this. But we know it must be, therefore it is; the Paris of our dreams is a required course.

 AN ISLAND PRIME, an island at the secret heart of Paris, floating in time and space across a footbridge on the shady side of the cathedral of Notre-Dame de Paris, the Île Saint- Louis may also be the most ambiguous orphan island there is—city and not a city, village and metropolis, provincial and centrally urban, serene and hyped by hundreds of years of noisy lovers of solitude.

Unique it is, possessed of itself, even self-congratulatory, yet available to all who choose to stroll from the population sink of contemporary Paris to a place that has no Métro stop or depressed highway. One could live there forever and do it in a short span of time, and I did.

Just after World War II, I came to study philosophy amid the existentialists of Saint-Germain-des-Prés. The first winter was bitter cold, with food rationing and no heat, and we philosophers—that is, admirers of Juliette Greco with her long nose, hoarse voice, black jeans, and sweaters—had to find cafés to do our deep thinking in.

In existential pursuit of the largest café au lait and most tooth-rotting but warming chocolate, I bought a bicycle to widen my field of operations, showing a certain Cleveland shrewdness by paying eight dollars for the rustiest, most battered bicycle I could find so that I could leave it unlocked.

Behind Notre-Dame, across the narrow footbridge of the Pont Saint-Louis, on the tranquil Île Saint-Louis, which did little business and did it negligently, I leaned my bike against a café that served large coffees, rich chocolate, and few customers. I remember it as Aux Alsaciennes, because it served Alsatian sausage, corned beef and cabbage, choucroute garnie at lunchtime; but for many years, now that the place has been discovered, it has been called the Brasserie de Saint-Louis-en-l’Île.

Somehow, here I couldn’t think about Bergson and Diderot and the hyphen between them, a little-known idea-smith named Maine de Biran, my thesis. Maybe it was the action of pumping a rusty bicycle; maybe it was the red-faced waiters, the black-dressed postwar girls with bruised eyes; but on the Île Saint-Louis I graciously allowed the history of philosophy to continue on its way without me.

My bike had no carrier for books; instead, I could stick a notebook under the seat. While warming myself at Aux Alsaciennes, I began to write a novel.

Nearly two years later, when the stationery store lady wrapped the package for mailing to Viking Press, she figured out what it was and gave it a sharp slap, crying out, “Merde!” I was startled because I thought I knew what that word meant and took it as a judgment of my coffee-and-choucroute-fueled, eighteen-month creative frenzy, but she explained that it meant “Good luck!”

(The book, Birth of a Hero, about a Resistance hero who happened to be stuck all his life in Cleveland, was published. I went home to Cleveland to buy the three-cent stamp with my picture on it but they were still using George Washington. I like that first novel now mostly because it instructed me that I had the right to do it.)

At some point in the creative process, I left a GI overcoat—the vestmental equivalent of my bicycle—on a rack at the brasserie. The waiters kept asking when I would take it again, but spring came, the birds sang on the Île Saint-Louis, and other birds allowed me to buy them hot chocolate; I was too overwrought.

Later, I decided to see how long the coat would live on the coatrack. As the years went by, I committed more novels, visited Paris as a tourist, and came to the Île Saint-Louis to check on my coat. It was still there. “Soon,” I promised the waiters.

One May in the early sixties, I noticed that the narrow, swaying footbridge across which I used to wheel my rustmobile had been replaced by a wider, stabler cement product, although it was still blocked to automobiles. And my coat was gone from the café, which had changed its name to the Brasserie de Saint-Louis-en-l’Île. And that tout Paris had discovered the happy place that in my secret mustard-loving heart will always be Aux Alsaciennes.

Anciently, the Île Saint-Louis was two islands, Île Notre-Dame and Île-aux-Vaches (Cow Island). You can buy old maps that show the walls of medieval Paris and this tiny pasture in the Seine, from which cows and milk were brought by dinghy into the city. In the seventeenth century the places were joined, and in a burst of elegant speculation, bankruptcies, and respeculation, a dense web of hôtels (fine mansions) were spun.

The Hôtel Lambert and the Hôtel de Lauzun are two noble examples, but the entire island, its narrow pre-Detroit and even pre-Citroën streets, its encircling quays for strolling and breeze-taking by the Seine, has a comfortingly unified classical pattern.

The decoration and architecture date from a single period of French elegance and are protected by fanatic preservationists, among whom was former president Georges Pompidou, who helped stuff other districts of Paris with freeways and skyscrapers. (Pompidou lived on the Île Saint-Louis.)

There is an ice cream shop, Berthillon, with perhaps the best and certainly the most chic sherbets in France. Usually the lines stretch out onto the street—people waiting for their glace café, sorbet, crème—as others in other places wait in line to pay taxes or to see if their portrait is on the three-cent stamp.

There is but one church on the island, Saint-Louis-en-l’Île—lovely, tranquil, softly flowing, with devout deacons scrubbing the stone with straw brooms from a stock that seems to have been purchased by some seventeenth-century financial genius of a priest who feared inflation in the straw-broom market.

Contemporary Paris discovered it could find quadruple use for the Île Saint-Louis: as an elegant residential quarter of the fourth arrondissement; as a strolling museum neighborhood, a sort of Tricolorland with no parking meters, no movie house, or cemetery (if people die, they have to be taken to the Continent); as a quiet corner for small restaurants, antiquaries, bars, bookshops, hotels, Mme Blanvillain’s 160-year-old olive shop (she was not the founder), and a pheasant-plucker named Turpin in case you need your pheasant plucked; and the fourth use is optional.

On my most recent visit, the spirit of the place was expressed by the aforementioned Berthillon, the studio for ice cream masterpieces with the seventeenth-century aspect. It was early July. A cheerful sign said: “Open Wednesday, 14 September.” Where else would an ice cream shop close for the hot months?

I was relieved by this assurance of little change in the weekend-maddened, vacation-crazed spirit of the French commerçant. No matter how greedy he might seem to mere mortals, plucking money from the air and sewing it into his mattress, the flight to seaside or country cottage remains sacred.

Throwing duffel on bed, not even glancing at the exchange rate, I seized a notebook in jet-lagged claws and made a quick tour of the few streets and circumnavigating quays of the island, trying to find what had changed, what had remained the same, and what might persuade my body that it was time to sleep. The fact that I had cleverly scheduled my visit to come near the July 14 celebration, when France dances and drinks and makes new friends in the street till dawn—all because their ancestors tore down the Bastille—did not induce thoughts of prudent shut-eye.

(In my student days, when an American friend studying in Belgium bicycled into Paris for the first time, he happened to arrive on Bastille Day and found colorful lights strung from everywhere, accordions, embraces, a fierce festival glitter in every eye. He fell upon my little room crying, “Oh, I always knew Paris would be like this!”)

A street sweeper with the timid face of a peasant come to the metropolis was scrubbing down the stones in front of the Saint-Louis-en-l’Île. No change here.

Libella, the Polish bookstore on the rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île, reminded me that Paris has always been everyone’s other home. The wall above Libella bears a stone plaque telling us that in 1799 the engineer Philippe Lebon discovered, in this building, the principle of lighting and heating with gas—the word “principle” and past experience suggest that the French did not actually get around to doing it for a while.

The island is crowded with such notices—tributes to poets, advisers to kings, soldier heroes, men of God, and even a film critic immortalized on a plaque affixed to the place where he analyzed Jerry Lewis as auteur.

There is also a plaque on the wall of the Fernand Halphen Foundation in the rue des Deux-Ponts:

To the Memory
Of the 112 Inhabitants
Of This Building
Including 40 Children
Deported and Killed
In the Concentration Camps in 1942.

No island is entire of itself, exempt from history. Across the street, in the ice cream shops, bistros, the Bateau Bar—fifty brands of beer from all nations—gratification proceeds on its necessary course.

It was time to sit at a café table for the island equivalent of my typical San Francisco after-racquetball vitamin and health hi-pro yogurt shake; in this case, a coffee with “yak”—cognac.

Two helmeted Vespa people came skidding to a stop in front of me. Like space warriors, they were encased in huge plastic headgear. Evidently they knew each other, because they fell to kissing, their helmets thudding together. I peeked at their faces when they came apart. They were both about sixty years old and hadn’t seen each other in hours.

A fisherman nearby, when I asked what he caught with all his equipment, assured me that trout hover near the fresh underground springs at the head of the island.

“And what else?”

“A moment of meditation. A view of Notre-Dame. There are gargoyles, sir. At this season, there are roses.”

During the morning, a fisherman was catching roses; that night in front of the footbridge leading to Aux Alsaciennes, the Communist Party sponsored a rock celebration of Bastille Day. A girl in a “Wichita University Long Island” T-shirt danced to a French knockoff of “Lady Jane” and other Rolling Stones hits. Instead of a male partner, she held a contribution box for Humanité, the party newspaper.

The little park at the end of the island where the Pont de Sully links the Left and Right Banks of Paris—leading to the workers’ quarter of Bastille in one direction, the Quartier Latin in the other—has a grand stone monument to “Barye 1795–1875” at its entrance. The sculptor seems to be telling a busy story, including naked lads, heroes, a foot on a screaming animal, a sword, a staff, a few less boyish youths. Who the heck was Barye 1795–1875?

He may be there to provide a little relaxation from all the really famous people who lived and live on the Île Saint-Louis. (He turns out to have been a watercolorist.)

The square Barye, surrounded by the Seine on three sides, is quiet, peaceful, scholarly, artistic, with occasional summer concerts; kids sleeping on their backpacks, workmen with bottles of rouge; Swedish au pair girls watching the babies and sunning themselves with that passionate solar intensity only Swedish girls achieve—happy sunbathers when it’s hot and moonbathing when it’s not; haggard widows in black, wincing with their memories; birds chirping and barbered bushes and peeling-bark trees and neat cinder paths: all honor to Barye 1795–1875!

Three small hotels on the island located on the rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île, a few steps from each other, have been converted from seventeenth-century houses: the Lutèce, the Deux-Îles, and the Saint-Louis.

When I telephoned the Lutèce from San Francisco for a reservation, the place was booked, but the good madame leaned out the window and yelled next door to the Deux-Îles to ask if they had a place. Also booked. So was the Saint-Louis. But on my arrival, I managed to persuade the daughter of the proprietor of the Saint-Louis to find me a corner room.

On the short walk home—saying “home” comes quickly in this island universe—I noticed that Hippolyte Taine and Georges Sadoul did their work in the same building. Marc Chagall and Charles Baudelaire, Voltaire and Mme Pompidou, dukes and barons, and chanteurs de charme, plus a stray prince or princess, an inventor or hero—who didn’t have a connection with the Île Saint-Louis?

The Île Saint-Louis is like France itself—an ideal of grace and proportion—but it differs from the rest of France in that it lives up to itself. Under constant repair and renovation, it remains intact. It is a small place derived from long experience. It has strength enough, and isolation enough, to endure with a certain smugness the troubles of the city and the world at whose center it rests.

The self-love is mitigated partly by success at guarding itself and partly by the ironic shrugs of its inhabitants, who, despite whatever aristocratic names or glamorous professions, live among broken-veined clochards (hoboes) with unbagged bottles, tourists with unbagged guidebooks, Bohemians with bagged eyes.

The actual troubles of the world do not miss the Île Saint-Louis—one doesn’t string hammocks between the plane trees here—but the air seems to contain fewer mites and less nefarious Paris ozone.

The lack of buses, the narrow streets, the breeze down the Seine help. And as to perhaps the most dangerous variety of Paris smog, the Île Saint-Louis seems to have discovered the unanswerable French reply to babble, noise, advice, and theory—silence.

One can, of course, easily get off this island, either by walking on the water of the Seine or, in a less saintly way, by taking a stroll of about two minutes across the slim bridges to the Left Bank, the Right Bank, or the bustling and official neighbor, the Île de la Cité.

Island fever is not a great danger, despite the insular pleasures of neatness, shape, control. Some people even say they never go to “Paris.” (In 1924, there was an attempt to secede from Paris and France, and Île Saint-Louis passports were issued.) Monsieur Filleui, the fishmonger, used to advertise: “Deliveries on the Island and on the Continent.”

  

  

The Île Saint-Louis, an elsewhere village universe, happens also to be an island by the merest accident of being surrounded by water. Its bridges reach inward to shadow worlds of history and dream, and outward toward the furor of contemporary Paris.

Shaded and sunny, surrounded by the waters of the Seine like a moat, it remains a kind of castle keep that is powerful enough in its own identity to hold Paris at bridge’s length, a breath away. Amazingly, it has occurred to no one powerful enough to do anything about it that this place, too, could be high-rised, filthied, thoroughfared, developed. There is no Métro station. The breezes down the Seine keep busy, sweeping and caressing.

Despite the claims of metropolis on all sides, the Île Saint-Louis still expresses the shadow presence of the Île Notre-Dame and the Île-aux-Vaches. The ancestor islands make a claim to be remembered because they have been forgotten, and both the aristocratic and the chic who live here, and the gratteurs de guitare, who occasionally come to serenade the ghosts of counts and courtesans, know that they tread in a palimpsest of footsteps, including ancient Gauls, Romans, and now, chirping and clicking beneath the willows, the occasional polyester-clad, camera-breasted tourist.

A more characteristic sight is that of the professional anguish of a French intellectual walking his dog. The rich tend to live like Bohemians here. (Only the poor, as Anatole France said, are forbidden to beg.)

The Île Saint-Louis is one of the places where a postwar generation of Americans in Paris loosened its military discipline—if we happened to have any—studied peace and art and history and depravity (called it freedom, called it fulfilling ourselves), lived in awe before our fantasy of France (still do just a little).

We bought old bicycles and new notebooks. We pretended to be students, artists, philosophers, and lovers, and, out of our pretensions, sometimes learned to be a little of these things.

Remarks are not literature, Gertrude Stein said, and islands are not the world. But some remarks can tell us what literature is about, some islands can tell us what a sweeter, more defined world might be. In Spinoza’s view, freedom consists of knowing what the limits are. I came to Paris as a philosophy student but left it as a novelist. On the Île Saint-Louis, I am still home free, watching the Seine flow and eddy and flow again.

The Paris of Parisians
CATHARINE REYNOLDS

IT HAS BEEN noted by many observers of Paris that the city is essentially a collection of villages. The five quartiers featured here—in the third, sixth, twelfth, thirteenth, and seventeenth arrondissements—have still retained their neighborhood feel, and a visit to any one of them will reveal dimensions of Paris well beyond its more famous grands boulevards, rues, and places.

CATHARINE REYNOLDS, introduced previously, was a contributing editor at Gourmet, where this piece originally appeared in 2001.

 YOU’VE PROBABLY CLIMBED the Eiffel Tower and checked out the stained glass at the Sainte-Chapelle. But have you really seen Paris? Beyond its set-piece monuments and cultural icons, the Paris of Parisians is a collage of villages. And visitors who venture outside the Eiffel–Concorde–Notre-Dame triangle to explore these enclaves will discover another dimension of the city.

It’s something of a miracle that so many distinct neighborhoods survive. And it’s Baron Haussmann, often condemned for the uniformity he imposed on Paris and for the broad boulevards he cut through medieval areas in the mid-nineteenth century, who may, ironically, be indirectly responsible. Today, the boulevards carry the worst of the city’s traffic, leaving the byways to the locals. Nor can you discount the role of what might be called the tyranny of the baguette. This staple goes stale quickly, making daily provisioning essential and thus encouraging the survival of local food shops along with the street life they promote.

The five quartiers featured here, many of them recent additions to Parisians’ “hot” list, have all retained that neighborhood feel. They are as varied as their inhabitants—and seem to us perfect examples of what makes the city one of the world’s liveliest and most livable.

IN THE THIRD

In spite of its location in this central arrondissement, Temple, a tangled skein of streets north of the Picasso Museum and south of the Place de la République, has been largely overlooked in the dramatic gentrification that has renewed the Marais over the past thirty years.

At least until recently. The narrow streets—many of them named after the provinces of France—are still lined with handsome seventeenth- and eighteenth-century hôtels particuliers, not all of which have been restored. The generous spaces and sleepy, very Parisian aura here have attracted artists, young professionals, in-the-know foreigners, and a burgeoning gay community. Most of these new arrivals come armed with more panache than cash, and today they share the sidewalks with the artisans who have long sustained the area.

The quartier remains identified with a building that is no longer there: the Temple, a priory whose name derived from that of the Knights Templars, a military and religious order founded during the First Crusade. The organization once controlled a walled city covering much of both the third and fourth arrondissements. Midway through the Revolution, the Temple became a prison, and en route to the guillotine, Louis XVI and his family were some of its first inmates. In an effort to erase memories of the pitiful child king, Louis XVII, who died there, Napoléon demolished the tower where the family had been held.

Today, this peaceful area is one of the most forward-looking in Paris. The young lovers who wheel their firstborn around the duck pond in the Square du Temple are likely as not dues-paid members of the Net set who flock to the ultracool Web Bar to surf and salsa. This neighborhood invites the pedestrian: the one-way system discourages through traffic, so you can zigzag back and forth, here admiring an ivy-hung courtyard, there sizing up a produce display. Shops and galleries are gradually displacing the ateliers of wholesale jewelers, who have populated the quartier for centuries, but the newcomers are somehow more low-key than those who have taken over the streets adjacent to the Place des Vosges.

Perhaps this is because the Temple remains a vibrant residential neighborhood. Afternoons see youngsters, testing the limits of their trottinettes (scooters)—and of their parents’ patience—just avoiding collision with dealers shuttling fifties furniture into their boutiques and graphic artists piloting portfolios into taxis. And households supply their tables along the rue de Bretagne, where butchers, fishmongers, and greengrocers compete with merchants in the newly restored Marché des Enfants Rouges, the capital’s oldest market.

IN THE THIRTEENTH

In the Parisian lexicon, stressé is the all-purpose adjective. And for many young urban professionals, the human scale of neighborhood life in the villagy quartiers on the city’s periphery is the sovereign antidote. Originally hamlets in their own right that were annexed wholesale to Paris on January 1, 1860, these enclaves come by their bucolic manners honestly.

Just a few short years ago, an address aux Cailles, as the Butte-aux-Cailles is lovingly called, would have taken some explaining. These days, however, it excites raw envy, as more and more people discover this pocket of intimacy deep in the western section of the thirteenth, only a short Métro ride from the humming heart of the city. Butte means “knoll,” and in Paris is more commonly applied to the Butte Montmartre. The Butte-aux-Cailles has Montmartre’s charm, but, being less publicized, it is less visited. And its residents are determined to keep it that way, trumpeting that the Cailles has no attractions—perhaps forgetting that this is precisely what explains its appeal. This forgotten part of Paris, with its cobbled streets and old-fashioned streetlamps, exudes a provincial atmosphere of permanence.

The Butte-aux-Cailles earned a place in history in 1783, when the world’s first hot-air balloon landed there after a twenty-five-minute journey from the western side of the city. The area remained sparsely populated until the middle of the nineteenth century, when the poorest of Parisians, dispossessed by Baron Haussmann’s slum clearances, took refuge there. Ragpickers soon joined them, but infrastructure was slow in coming.

Today, the area tempts you to wander aimlessly: to discover a litter of kittens snoozing on a windowsill of one of the gabled houses at 10 rue Daviel, known appropriately as Petite Alsace. Or to trip down the cobbled rue Samson as it nears the rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles, racking your brain to recall which Jean Renoir film must have been set here. The architecture is modest, with none of the furbelows of monumental Paris, but it’s easy to imagine—or is it hear?—Georges Brassens melodies cooing from radios. Some of the Cailles’s streets perpetuate good country names—“Mill in the Meadows,” “Poplars”—seeming to defy the misguided urban planners of the sixties and seventies who permitted high-rises to be built not far away, like grim reality checks.

In your wanderings, you may sight residents loping with laptops to nearby lofts bowered by chestnuts, or backpack-encumbered Madelines sailing home from school unaccompanied in the quiet streets. In fine weather, the pharmacist, who elsewhere in the city would spend his quiet time officiously tidying, here takes the air, leaning against his doorframe, gossiping until a customer appears. And in a city that has at least three restaurants called Chez Paul, the Butte-aux-Cailles’s Paul, with its lace curtains and traditional grand-mère food, may be the most appealing. But then neighborhood standards are high, hoisted there by the inventive cooking of Christophe Beaufront of L’Avant-Goût.

IN THE SEVENTEENTH

Clear on the other side of town, Les Batignolles also began life beyond the city’s walls, on barely cultivated land. Here, in the 1820s and 1830s, developers constructed modest country retreats with patches of garden for the growing class of prosperous Parisian shopkeepers, who were soon joined by petty bureaucrats and washerwomen.

Everything and nothing changed with the coming of the railroads. The Paris–Le Pecq line, completed in 1837, cut the area off from the west. When Les Batignolles was annexed to Paris, Baron Haussmann’s engineering alter ego added a handsome park, the Square des Batignolles, but did little else to knit the backwater into the wider urban fabric. Low rents and an ample supply of laundresses and seamstresses willing to model attracted painters like Manet and Renoir. From 1865, they made the Café Guerbois and the Cabaret du Père Lathuille, on what is now the avenue de Clichy, the crossroads of artistic café culture, attracting Bazille, Degas, Pissarro, and Monet. But painterly Paris soon moved on, leaving Les Batignolles very much to itself.

Until lately. These days, two-career couples, delighted by its retro rents and sleepy, shabby-chic atmosphere, are snapping up apartments here. The neighborhood’s easy rhythms seem a world removed from the pressures of the Place de l’Opéra, little more than a mile away. Many residents find they can even walk to their law offices and banks. The organic market, held every Saturday just nearby, is yet another draw.

Like any French village worth its salt, Les Batignolles has a fine church standing at its heart. A semicircle of buildings frames the pretty place around neoclassic Sainte-Marie des Batignolles. The corner café boasts the confident name of L’Endroit and, within its varnished concrete walls, is every bit as edgy as the Café Guerbois was in its day. The trees along the southwest side of the church shelter a handful of timeless shops: a florist, a dealer in pretty bibelots, and a children’s outfitter with the sanguine name of Merci Maman. (Truth told, the children playing in the shadow of the boules game in the square beyond do look as though they mind their manners—but then more than a few of the newer Batignolles parents grew up in the strict and starched purlieus of the sixteenth arrondissement.)

The rue des Batignolles is the main drag, lined with pleasant boutiques, the local town hall, and restaurants. Then there’s the tree-lined rue Brochant, where you can admire the gilded curlicues on the Boucherie du Square, sample Christian Rizzotto’s ethereal cinnamon ganaches, and investigate the antique dolls at L’Atelier de Maïté. And at afternoon’s end, when the food shops reopen, you can eye supper along the rue des Moines, stopping at the tiny Fromagerie des Moines to nibble Saint-Marcellins and Pont-l’Évêques. In this neighborhood, even doing chores is a sensory delight.

IN THE TWELFTH

Trend spotters say the Bastille is over as the mecca of haute hip, but their divinations cut no mustard at the Marché d’Aligre. Tucked away just a bit east of Carlos Ott’s behemoth opera house, the market has been the hub of a skilled artisans’ quarter for centuries. Newcomers may be more of-the-moment, but as far as the stallholders are concerned, last year’s pashmina passion will provide next year’s stock for the secondhand clothes dealers—and everybody will have to go on eating.

In a city of legendary markets, the Marché d’Aligre is unique in that it includes a street market, a covered market, and an open-air flea market (open six days a week). Named for the wife of Étienne d’Aligre, a worthy seventeenth-century chancellor, the market once rivaled the old Les Halles.

Today this is one of the city’s most integrated neighborhoods. And the next new thing—be it in blown glass, strié velvet, or neon tubing—will likely emerge from the workshops in the small passages that honeycomb the area. A handful of the cabinetmaking trades that were the backbone of the area remain, but many of the workshops are now ateliers for a new breed of supercharged creators. By day they hunker down at work; at night they play. The modern street section of the market, strung along the rue d’Aligre, is reputed to offer the city’s best values. Which, to an extent, explains the diversity of the crowd: graceful Malian women haggle with Tunisians over plantains, comme il faut students from the nearby law school stock up on apples and vintage frocks, and gay couples fill their shopping carts. Some of the merchants are specialists, like the fellow who deals only in garlic, shallots, and onions, or the mother and daughter who have for decades pyramided the north corner of the place with lettuce and herbs.

The covered market, the Marché Beauvau, might as well be in la France profonde. Here, a suckling pig turns on a butcher’s spit, and the scent of spices and fragrant oils floats out from the stall known as Sur les Quais. Outside, on the eastern edge of the square, secondhand dealers spread life’s castoffs. The merchandise looks little different from that on offer in a 1911 Atget photo of the area, save for the fact that a brutalist concrete apartment-building-cum-ground-floor-supermarket has replaced the triperie and greengrocer. And there are treasures to be unearthed. Occasionally there is a trove of flirty thirties bias-cut dresses in silk crêpe. Snapped up, they may soon clothe a lithe form sambaing at one of the area’s many hot nightspots. At noon, market habitués often heap their bags in a corner at a nearby wine bar or head for the hypercool Le Square Trousseau. This centenarian bistro hasn’t allowed its head to be turned by its new, big-name clientele. That may be Jean-Paul Gaultier tucking into petit salé (salt pork with lentils) over there, but that’s only reasonable: his Faubourg Saint-Antoine store, installed in a former furniture showroom, is just around the corner.

IN THE SIXTH

The rue du Cherche-Midi, on the western edge of the sixth arrondissement, is not laid-back. Here, rail-thin blondes swing leather-clad hips out of tiny Mercedes Smart cars and bolt into Eres to scoop up bikinis. More conservative types saunter from boutique to boutique, weighing the merits of saddle-stitched handbags from Il Bisonte against the frivolity of fur-trimmed microfiber sacs from Ginkgo. Down the street, every passerby lusts after the Andrée Putman armchairs at Hugues Chevalier, and there are nouveau-rustic wrought-iron lamps and door furniture at La Maison de Brune, not to mention every manner of stylish footgear at the ultrahip Lundi Bleu.

Following the route of a Roman road that once led from Lutèce to Vaugirard, the rue du Cherche-Midi today serves as a new kind of link. It bridges two styles, serving both the fashionistas who flock to Saint-Germain and the BCBGs, a hardy breed of French preppies, many of whom nest in the seventh arrondissement. Whatever their fashion icons, this shopping sorority can’t resist the siren allure of the Cherche-Midi vitrines.

The street’s retail charms are so conspicuous that they almost obscure what is one of the city’s most sought-after neighborhoods. Some of the capital’s most gracious apartments sit above the boutiques, carved from eighteenth- and nineteenth-century private houses. The “happy few” occupy aristocratic family mansions—some have been in the same hands for two hundred years. Other inhabitants, whom we might call limousine liberals but whom the French refer to as gauche caviar, choose the quartier for the grandeur of its fine houses and its access to the Collège de France and the other cultured haunts of the Left Bank.

The handsome balconies at no. 11 merely hint at the gilded splendor of the Louis XV paneling in its second-story reception rooms, and the nearby rue du Regard typifies the best of the sedate eighteenth-century limestone façades of the neighborhood, with elegant pediments and portes cochères that spark fantasy.

But the real magic of the neighborhood, what brings us back, is the people—the Little Blue Riding Hood employing Cartesian arguments to persuade Maman that the bear beanbag in the window really requires immediate adoption; the tailored gentleman looking the part of a retired diplomat, emerging from his bookbinder with a leather volume under his arm.

And amid all the fashion temptations, there are food shops (this is Paris, after all). The neighborhood baker is the internationally known Poilâne, the city’s largest organic market is held on the boulevard Raspail each Sunday, and the Grande Épicerie de Paris is only streets away. There are restaurants and cafés, too, though visitors are well advised to reserve if they hope to claim a table at L’Épi Dupin. Alternatively, they can join the ladies who don’t really lunch for a sandwich at Cuisine de Bar, where there’s even a diet choice. In this quartier, it’s important to be able to slither into a bodysuit from Feelgood.

IN THE NEIGHBORHOODS

Temple

Recently remodeled, the Musée des Arts et Métiers showcases French inventions, among them Pascal’s adding machine, Foucault’s pendulum, Ader’s airplane, and the Lumière brothers’ movie camera. (60 rue Réaumur / +33 01 53 01 82 00.)

Chez Omar is something of a hybrid: a nicotine-soaked brasserie specializing in couscous. Its clientele is equally eclectic, with models waiting for tables alongside locals, and cutting-edge moviemakers as pleased with the merguez as the wanna-bes. (47 rue de Bretagne / +33 01 42 72 36 26.)

The fare at Au Bascou is as good as Basque food gets: chestnut soup, stuffed piquillo peppers, and roasted squab, enjoyed with whatever little-known bottles Jean-Guy Loustou, the restaurant’s owner and host, may suggest. (38 rue Réaumur / +33 01 42 72 69 25.)

Le Pamphlet’s prix-fixe menu includes happy innovations such as squid risotto, crab ravioli sauced with pea emulsion, and licorice ice cream. (38 rue Debelleyme / +33 01 42 72 39 24.)

A huge, flat-screen monitor greets arrivals at Web Bar. With its concrete tables, velvet banquettes, and wired workstations, this is a grown-up cybercafé. (32 rue de Picardie / +33 01 42 72 66 55.)

Behind a shabby façade, DOT (Diffusion d’Objets de Table) sells reproductions of bistro tablewares. (47 rue de Saintonge / +33 01 40 29 90 34.)

There’s nothing shy about Philippe Ferrandis’s fantastical bijoux. Once an accessorist for Oscar de la Renta, today he makes and sells his bold and bright objets from this showroom-atelier. (2 rue Froissart / +33 01 48 87 87 24.)

In Franck Delmarcelle’s Et Caetera, you’ll find huge garden urns alongside eighteenth-century tables, and lanterns and mantelpieces alongside sideboards and chandeliers. Everything in this long, narrow boutique is gutsy and slightly overscale. (40 rue de Poitou / +33 01 42 71 37 11.)

L’Habilleur stocks last season’s merchandise, but the men’s and women’s duds all reflect the most wearable trends and are displayed in handsome, civilized surroundings. (44 rue de Poitou / +33 01 48 87 77 12.)

Agence Opale, a photo agency that specializes in portraits of authors, stocks prints of period photos of literary heroes. (8 rue Charlot / +33 01 40 29 93 33.)

Picquier et Protière sells its Marimekko-style fabrics by the yard but also makes them into cushions and stunning shopping bags with stout leather handles. (10 rue Charlot / +33 01 42 72 39 14.)

Galerie Yvon Lambert has been ahead of the curve since the late sixties, spotting Cy Twombly and Richard Long early on. It represents, among others, Nan Goldin. (108 rue Vieille-du-Temple / +33 01 42 71 09 33.)

Butte-aux-Cailles

The Place de la Commune de Paris commemorates the Butte-aux-Cailles’s role as headquarters for the insurgents in May 1871. Its bloody history is curiously at odds with the graceful, green cast-iron Fontaine Wallace that today stands in the middle of the tiny place.

A brick façade with late Art Nouveau sinuosities disguises the Piscine de la Butte-aux-Cailles, a municipal swimming pool fed by a bubbling artesian well. Roofed in then-innovative reinforced concrete, the pool, surprisingly, was built at the same time as the façade—in 1924. (5 place Paul-Verlaine / +33 01 45 89 60 05.)

At L’Avant-Goût, Christophe Beaufront’s luncheon menu, often featuring a luscious pig’s-cheek stew, has raised the bar for Paris’s néo-bistros. (26 rue Bobillot / +33 01 53 80 24 00.)

Chez Paul’s traditional French cuisine attracts people from all over the city. (22 rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles / +33 01 45 89 22 11.)

Les Abeilles sells dozens of honeys, along with supplies for beekeepers. (21 rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles / +33 01 45 81 43 48.)

Aux Délices de la Butte is the quintessential neighborhood bakery, with cannelés de Bordeaux and baguettes worth seeking out. (48 rue Bobillot / +33 01 45 89 45 55.)

La Cave du Moulin Vieux specializes in wines from small producers. (4 rue de la Butte-aux-Cailles / +33 01 45 80 42 38.)

You don’t have to be Italian to appreciate the salamis and aged Parmigiano-Reggiano at the Bologna-comes-to-Paris grocery Cipolli. (81 rue Bobillot / +33 01 45 88 26 06.)

Les Batignolles

Foursquare yet understated behind its four Doric columns, Sainte-Marie des Batignolles has stood since 1830 at the heart of the village of Batignolles. (77 place du Dr.-Félix-Lobligeois / +33 01 46 27 57 67.)

At L’Endroit, the of-the-moment hangout across from the church, the food tends to be as high design as much of the crowd, and the music crescendoes well into the night. (67 place du Dr.-Félix-Lobligeois / +33 01 42 29 50 00.)

It’s wise to reserve one of the twenty-odd seats at La P’tite Lili, where locals go to chill out. The menu is limited, but the sausages are flavorful, the salads sassy, and the meat and fish excellent. (8 rue des Batignolles / +33 01 45 22 54 22.)

Families sate their pasta passions at Arcimboldo, where they go en masse to share gnocchi and ravioli and wash it all down with Chianti. (7 rue Brochant / +33 01 42 29 37 62.)

The market-fresh food at the Cinnamon Café—tomatoes stuffed with whiting mousseline, apple crumble—is the stuff of memories. (5 rue des Batignolles / +33 01 43 87 64 51.)

Merci Maman carries the sort of handsome, sturdy clothes you see on Paris schoolchildren. (73 place du Dr.-Félix-Lobligeois / +33 01 42 29 11 62.)

The tiny candleholder that will make a table sparkle, the little present worth stashing for next December—such bibelots are the stock-in-trade of La Vie en Rose. (73 place du Dr.-Félix-Lobligeois / +33 01 42 63 70 71.)

The jury’s out on which is better: Christian Rizzotto’s cinnamon ganaches or his rocailles. (14 rue Brochant / +33 01 42 63 18 70.)

The Fromagerie des Moines is particularly strong on Norman cheeses like Camembert and Pont-l’Évêque. (47 rue des Moines / +33 01 46 27 69 24.)

For thirty-three years, L’Atelier de Maïté has specialized in buying, selling, and repairing dolls made between 1860 and 1930. (8 rue Brochant / +33 01 42 63 23 93.)

By the Marché d’Aligre

Opera fans thrill to visits backstage at Carlos Ott’s Opéra Bastille. The workrooms and full-scale rehearsal studios kindle lyric fascination. (120 rue de Lyon / +33 01 40 01 19 70.)

The Marché d’Aligre is the only Paris market open six days a week. It includes a street market, a covered market, and a flea market. Open Tuesday to Sunday, 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. (Place d’Aligre.)

Le Square Trousseau is headquarters for many of the Bastille area’s trendies. The food runs from comfort (terrines and tarts) to winds-of-change world food (risotto, chicken b’stilla). (1 rue Antoine-Vollon / +33 01 43 43 06 00.)

Sunday mornings are the choicest time at the wine bar Le Baron Rouge. Where else can you eat Arcachon oysters off the hood of a parked car while tasting Cairanne from Richaud? (1 rue Théophile-Roussel / +33 01 43 43 14 32.)

After a hard morning’s trade, shoppers and merchants collapse at La Table d’Aligre to savor sophisticated country cooking. (Place d’Aligre / +33 01 43 07 84 88.)

Whether you need a plum-colored sou’wester or a sequined pink beret, La Sartan is the Mad Hatter’s Parisian outpost. (24 rue de Charenton / +33 01 53 33 09 09.)

Michel Moisan has made his name as an organic baker; his walnut-hazelnut bread brings many across town. (5 place d’Aligre / +33 01 43 45 46 60.)

Spices and oils scent the entire Marché Beauvau thanks to Sur les Quais, which stocks at least a dozen vintages of olive oil—from Marché Beauvau, Sicily, Andalusia, and the Peloponnese. (place d’Aligre / +33 01 43 43 21 09.)

À la Providence is the place to buy French-style furniture hardware. (151 rue du Faubourg St.-Antoine / +33 01 43 43 06 41.)

Unlike some cutting-edge designers, Nathalie Dumeix creates for the less-than-anorexic. Zip into a vampy, bias-cut crêpe dress. (10 rue Théophile-Roussel / +33 01 43 46 00 22.)

Rue du Cherche-Midi

Lionized by Second Empire hostesses for his flattering portraits, Ernest Hébert would largely be forgotten today but for the handsome eighteenth-century Petit Hôtel de Montmorency-Bours, which houses the Musée Hébert, dedicated to his works. (85 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 42 22 23 82.)

The lunchtime crush at L’Épi Dupin is real, but so is the lunch, rich with chef François Pasteau’s inventions. Try the lamb enveloped in thin slices of eggplant. (11 rue Dupin / +33 01 42 22 64 56.)

Cuisine de Bar makes open-faced sandwiches of foie gras and shrimp on Poilâne’s famed sourdough, to be washed down with a fruit-juice cocktail. (8 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 45 48 45 69.)

Finely finished leather handles top the bright microfiber handbags at Ginkgo. Some even sport fur collars. (4 ter rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 45 44 90 87.)

Feelgood lives up to its name, selling flirty dresses and good-value bodysuits, made of low-shine microfiber, that sculpt the shape. All emerge from suitcases looking as well rested as the wearers would like to be. (9 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 45 44 88 66.)

At Elena Cantacuzène, ethnic styling meets catwalk chic. A handful of her beady “jools” are available in special American stores, but here you select from the full range. (47 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 45 44 95 94.)

Under the gaze of passersby, Pierre Marsaleix binds books. He’s pleased to fill special orders based on sketches, and stamps volumes in elaborate designs. (113–115 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 42 22 12 13.)

Célimène Pompon deals in what the French quaintly call travaux de dames, or needlework. Among the handsome original cross-stitch canvases, you’ll also find beguiling stuffed animals. (41 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 45 44 53 95.)

Taken with sleek Normandie-inspired furnishings? Hugues Chevalier displays a tempting array. (17 rue du Cherche-Midi / +33 01 45 48 69 55.)

RECOMMENDED READING

A Corner in the Marais: Memoir of a Paris Neighborhood, Alex Karmel (Godine, 1998). At the center of Karmel’s memoir is a specific building in the Marais, a building that “has no special distinction apart from the fact that it has been standing for centuries”—and that he and his wife bought an apartment in it some years before this book was published. Though his (French) wife would prefer to live in an apartment overlooking the Place des Vosges “to any other place on earth,” the pied-à-terre they buy is on the notable Marais street of the rue des Rosiers, then, as now, too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer. But they love it, and they love this neighborhood. Karmel ends this well-written and fascinating book with a chapter entitled “Neighbors,” which is a walking tour that begins on the rue Vieille-du-Temple and ends in the Place des Vosges. Lastly, he includes a wonderful excerpt from Le Piéton de Paris (The Walker of Paris) by poet and writer Léon-Paul Fargue (1876–1947), who was an avid wanderer best known for his evocative depictions of Paris. In this three-page excerpt alone, one learns quite a bit about the Marais, which is “not merely the past,” as Karmel notes, but “also a vibrant, living neighborhood in the present.”
Into a Paris Quartier: Reine Margot’s Chapel and Other Haunts of St.-Germain, Diane Johnson (National Geographic Directions, 2005). Paris has haunted the American imagination from the days of Franklin and Jefferson, Johnson notes in her introduction to this interesting and quirky book, and the city has also occupied an important place in American literature, from Henry James to Hemingway. “And, like Jefferson’s, like Gertrude Stein’s, the American imagination has tended to fasten on a particular part of Paris: the Left Bank around the church of Saint-Germain-des-Prés.” As Johnson also notes, the Saint-Germain neighborhood may just be the most visited and written about of all Parisian neighborhoods, so it was an unlikely candidate for her to write a book about. But something Johnson sees every day outside her kitchen window stood out to her, symbolizing her present connection to Saint-Germain: “the back of a little chapel built by Queen Marguerite de Valois in 1608.” (Valois was the first wife of Henri IV.) Johnson not only reveals the story of this chapel but essentially the stories of a Paris most visitors walk right past and never notice. Though I eagerly devoured these stories of a favorite quartier, it was a remark in Johnson’s introduction that really made me want to read this book. As she was writing an introduction to a collection of short stories about Paris by American writers, she was struck by how many of the stories were about personal defeat—the Americans in almost all the stories go home “to face real life in the States, and will think wistfully forever after about what might have been, if only they had stayed, or had learned how to stay, in Paris. We are moved to ask: What is it about Paris? And what is eluding us at home?”
Man Ray’s Montparnasse, Herbert Lottman (Harry N. Abrams, 2001). Lottman first went to Paris in 1949 as a Fulbright fellow and has spent most of his life since then in France. He’s also the author of a number of French-themed books, including biographies of Philippe Pétain, Gustave Flaubert, Colette, and Jules Verne, and The Left Bank: Writers, Artists, and Politics from the Popular Front to the Cold War (Houghton Mifflin, 1982). But it was Montparnasse that Lottman had wanted to write about for a long time—“ever since I settled in Paris in the late 1950s and began my explorations into its cultural life.” He couldn’t quite figure out how to connect the dots between the Dada artists, the Surrealists, the École de Paris painters, the Anglo-Americans, heirs and heiresses, Gertrude Stein’s weekly open house—until he realized that American photographer Man Ray was the link. “Man Ray could talk to everybody, and he made it a point to do so. And not surprisingly, everybody was ready to talk to this friendly New Yorker, not necessarily for his conversation but for his camera, which he was eager to use.” Lottman vividly evokes the first thirty years of Paris in the twentieth century, when the streets surrounding boulevard du Montparnasse and the boulevard Raspail were the center of the avant-garde in Europe. By 1934, however, France was in a depression, there was much strife between political parties, and in Paris there was a general air of pessimism. When Marcel Duchamp was asked to sum up the glories of Montparnasse, he replied that, though Montparnasse was the first international colony of artists, superior to Montmartre, Greenwich Village, or Chelsea, “Montparnasse is dead, of course, and it may take twenty, fifty, or a hundred years to develop a new Montparnasse, and even then it is bound to take an entirely different form.” Later, as Lottman notes, when the Nazis occupied Paris in 1940 and Man Ray left Montparnasse, he could not have known that “the Quarter as he had come to know it would cease to exist.” Man Ray documented an extraordinary time and extraordinary people; this book includes fifty-three of his unforgettable black-and-white photographs.

Paris has been so beautiful for so long that, with few exceptions, every neighborhood has some treasure or other to show. It might be a well-designed antique water pump in a forbidding alley in the Glacière section of the thirteenth, a handsome fountain and a street of curiously designed apartment houses not far from the nondescript rue Monge, an old court, wrinkled and molten and still a grande dame, in the fur district—and everywhere, the rhythms of old streets meeting, proliferating, branching like the veins of a leaf.

—Kate Simon, Paris: Places and Pleasures

LA CUISINE FRANÇAISE

Everyone who has visited France knows that it is a nation of hardy, persistent individualists. The French simply refuse to conform to type, whether it be a question of dress, of manners, or of politics, particularly the last. This quality of independence manifests itself with unusual emphasis in the matter of food and wine. This may seem surprising to those who have formed a conception of typical French fare. The genuine French cuisine, however, is an absolute tapestry of individualism, varying abruptly from one province to another, to the fascination of food-minded travelers. There is nothing “typical” about it.
—SAMUEL CHAMBERLAIN,
FROM THE INTRODUCTION TO
The Food of France BY WAVERLEY ROOT
Over centuries, the dinner table has remained an anchor for families and friendships, the heart of what is finest about France. Each course requires separate effort, part of a whole. Children learn their values and their manners at mealtime. Nothing important gets signed, sealed, or delivered without the clinking of glasses and the rattling of cutlery.
—MORT ROSENBLUM,
A Goose in Toulouse

A Saga of Bread
NAOMI BARRY

WHEN I INCLUDED this piece in my first Paris edition, Barry told me the only baguette in all of France that she liked was la flûte Gana from Ganachaud, a legendary boulangerie in the twentieth arrondissement. After she first tried it, she immediately thought of a French advertising slogan of the time, Voilà un préjugé qui m’a coûté cher, which translates as “And that’s a prejudice that cost me dearly.” If she once thought all baguettes were alike—dull and tasteless—she didn’t anymore. I happen to be fond of the crispy, airy baguette in general, but I grant that the flûte Gana is one of the most perfect baguettes on earth. The original Ganachaud (rue de Ménilmontant) was presided over by master baker Bernard Ganachaud, who has since retired. That original shop is now closed, but Ganachaud’s daughters, Valérie, Isabelle, and Marianne, have opened their own boulangerie nearby (226 rue des Pyrénées), which appears to be thriving. The family also now oversees a network of boulangeries with the Gana brand throughout France.

My husband and I once had the supreme great fortune to meet Bernard before he retired, although it happened quite by accident. I mentioned to the cashier at Ganachaud that I was visiting from the States and had learned of the bakery in Patricia Wells’s b—But before I could say the word book, she excitedly summoned Bernard, who led us upstairs to his office, where we were served coffee and bostock, slices of slightly stale and toasted brioche flavored with kirsch and almonds (which is very yummy). All the while I was explaining that we didn’t really know Patricia Wells—we had only read her book—but he didn’t seem to mind as he shared some publicity clippings with us and chattered on about his recent venture in Japan.

There are a number of other outstanding boulangeries in Paris, and you will discover your own, some famous and others perhaps known only within your quartier, but a trip out to the twentieth (the neighborhood is Gambetta) is very much vaut le détour—it’s worth the trip, to quote the Guide Michelin. I recommend making the journey a full-fledged excursion, also visiting the Père-Lachaise cemetery and Le Saint-Amour café (on the edge of the cemetery, at the corner of avenue Gambetta and boulevard de Ménilmontant). Le Saint-Amour was recommended by Patricia Wells years ago, and I’ve since visited several times, downing glasses of good Burgundy and enjoying the abundant bonhomie.

NAOMI BARRY wrote for many years for Gourmet. She is also the author of Paris Personal (Dutton, 1963), Adorable Zucchini (Brick Tower, 2005), and Food alla Florentine (Doubleday, 1972).

 CHRISTINE, A BANK of information about her city, gave me the address of “the best bread place in Paris.” Of course I made the trip since you don’t find great bread on every corner anymore, even in France where the national image used to be a pair of crossed baguettes under a Basque beret.

The bakery was at 150 rue de Ménilmontant in the working-class district of the far-out twentieth arrondissement. Maurice Chevalier, who had been a child of the neighborhood, used to sing about Ménilmontant and he infused it with a titillating glamour, which has lingered.

The farther we progressed up the steep hill on our first foray into the territory, the more unpromising it seemed as the site of “the best bread in Paris.” I was mentally accusing Christine of a bum steer when up loomed Bernard Ganachaud’s bakery with the sudden brightness of a big ferry station in an otherwise darkened landscape.

It was huge with six times the frontage of any shop in the vicinity. Breads of assorted shapes and sizes were artfully displayed behind the gleaming windows. Thirty varieties are available in a Tour de France of regional breads. Some are better than others because in the down-home original versions, some simply are better than others. A pain d’Auvergne had a real style but it turned out to be disappointing, for instance.

On one window a girl employee was writing in large white letters the hit parade of specialties due to come forth from the visible ovens. The odors tantalizingly evoked a glorious farmhouse kitchen even if your childhood had not been that lucky. Although the French are notorious for the way they jump queues, in Ganachaud’s bread line they were a model of decorum, proving that good behavior is determined by what is worth waiting for.

Ganachaud refuses to deliver and he doesn’t care who you are. The chef of the Crillon was crazy about the deluxe baguette baptized flûte Gana and wanted it for the hotel. He was told to come and get it. Ganachaud insists on quality control of his product until the moment it is handed over to the customer. That means on the premises. Were it to spend a couple of hours in the back of a delivery van … He shudders. So the Crillon accepted to do its own fetch and carry. At the end of a year, the chef moaned, “Mon cher, do you realize that my taxi bill to get to you has been even greater than my bread bill?”

The complaint pleased Ganachaud no end. To go from the Crillon on the Place de la Concorde to the rue de Ménilmontant is like going from Eighty-first Street and Fifth Avenue in Manhattan to New Lots Avenue in Brooklyn. Individual customers from the chic arrondissements miles away have worked out a pool system. Whoever makes the trek is honor bound to bring back a supply for the others.

I immediately recognized the maître-boulanger, who was wearing the white work jacket with the tricolor ribbon collar and his name embroidered on the breast pocket that Bragard has made for most of the top chefs of France, giving them the uniformed look of an Olympic team. Despite a fluff of white hair and mustaches, Ganachaud’s movements were quick and youthful and he was light on the balls of his feet like a bantamweight boxer. He interrupted a staccato monologue he was delivering to a young man in a corner, invited me to his organized little office, and—toc-toc—ordered me a coffee and a flûte Gana.

I have never been much of a fan of the baguette, the long skinny loaf usually known abroad as French bread, but I became a fanatic of Ganachaud’s upmarket version. It is not only the best I have ever eaten but I am scared of it because once started I can’t stop. It is twice the price of a regulation baguette, which has been no deterrent to the sales.

There was a delicious chewiness to the crust and a pleasing consistency to the crumb and, much as I love butter, it didn’t need any. The flûte was no mere support for cheese but could stand very nicely on its own.

“No serious artisan need ever worry about competition from the factory,” said Ganachaud, “although if technology can make a bread with the same savor, I am not against it. However, the industrial bakery cannot furnish a bread that is really fresh.”

He was referring mainly to the baguette whose short but happy life is responsible for those bread lines throughout France three times a day. The round loaf that was the peasant’s staff of life could be counted upon to remain edibly fresh for several days. Big as a pillow, it took a while for all the moisture to evaporate from the crumb. The svelte baguette has comparatively little crumb and it goes dry in no time flat. Ganachaud’s flûte has a crust porous enough for the moisture to come in as well as go out and consequently it remains fresh for a few hours more than the average. As long as you don’t ask the perishable to be forever, a quality baguette at its peak can be memorable.

The Japanese, anxious to acquire the best of the West, wanted to franchise his flûte. Ganachaud gave them his usual “On my conditions or No Go.” Not only would the bread have to be made according to his rigorous specifications, but the ovens had to be adjacent to every point of sale. They agreed and now there are sixteen outlets in Japan where you can buy an authentic flûte Gana thousands of miles from the rue de Ménilmontant.

Meanwhile Ganachaud has created an artisanal network throughout France. Twenty independent young bakers have three-year contracts with him that allow baking and advertising the flûte Gana in their establishments. The contracts are renewable for another three-year period after which the bakers can go on producing the flûte with no more commitment to him. It is an odd financial arrangement and rather like six years in holy orders, but profitable.

At breakneck speed, Ganachaud related a little of his past. He was born in southwest France in 1930. His father was a small farmer who plumped up the family income by baking and delivering big loaves of bread to other farm families around the countryside. Bernard supplied a helping hand from the age of eight, both at the kneading trough and on the delivery wagon.

While studying at a stern Jesuit academy in Bordeaux he continued to aid his father prepare the dough and make the dawn deliveries. He was an excellent student, wanted to become a lawyer, and somehow found time to be active in the Scouts. But a daily schedule of five a.m. until midnight was too much for his health to sustain. He dropped his studies and concentrated on being a baker, applying all his intelligence and intensity to one of the oldest métiers in the world.

The real killer was lack of sleep. For the customer to have fresh bread in the morning, the baker must observe the fermentation at a fixed period in the night pretty much like a sailor on the watch who can sleep for a few hours only before the next stretch of duty.

Ganachaud decided to break the servitude by harnessing cold to slow down the fermentation and thus allow himself an eight-hour night without interruption. It was a freedom he had never known. At present he has young bakers working under his rule but thanks to the scientific application of cold the deadly night shift is no longer necessary.

The harshness of his early youth had left a permanent toll and he felt he would have to sell his now flourishing business. His attractive young daughters, Valérie and Isabelle, were aghast. “Papa, you simply can’t do it. We will carry on for you.”

They enrolled in a professional school and finished the three-year course with top honors. As far as I know, Ganachaud’s girls are the first professional women bakers in France and the first to earn the tough CAP (Certificat d’Aptitude Professionnelle) in what is regarded as one of the most macho of the artisan trades.

Slender and full of grace, they admit to consuming at least a half pound of bread a day regularly, proof that it is not bread that makes you fat but what you put on it. Except for the respite offered by the slowing down of the night fermentation through cold, they watch the clock like hawks, for good bread making demands chronometer precision.

In most other ways the Ganachauds work by the old-fashioned precepts. “A true baker,” says Papa, “mixes his own flours.” (Any loaf that disobeys his commands is rushed to a laboratory to find out the reason why.) The true baker chooses his combination of flours the way a great tea blender selects leaves of different strains. He uses natural leavenings instead of factory-produced yeasts and baking powders and shuns the preservatives that give added shelf life.

In Paris an alarming number of bakers are buying prepared mixes or frozen dough from industrial plants. With the latter they need but shape it into the desired form and slide it into the oven for baking. Bread from these terminal stations is rarely better than average. Bake shops are springing up with charming décors that suggest a world as it used to be, but the décors are deceptive stage sets masking chain operations.

Lucien Pergeline, a director of the Grands Moulins de Paris, revealed that certain bakers have cut down on the traditional fermentation period with the astute use of commercial baking powders, thus saving themselves an hour or more of time. In addition, with the powders they can achieve a short-weight loaf of 200 grams that has the size of a 250-gram baguette and sell it for the price of the latter.

“Hmm,” I said. “Sounds like watered stock—when the drovers of upper New York State used to walk their cattle to market forcing them to drink a maximum on the long march, thus upping the price on the hoof.”

The purists of the profession are up in arms and there are debates, symposiums, and articles on saving the Good Bread of France. An alerted segment of the public passes around the names of honest bakers the way they pass on the name of a good bistro discovery. Jean-Michel Bédier, chef of Le Chiberta in Paris, tells me there is a worthy baker in Saint-Sauveur-en-Puisaye, the Burgundy town where Colette was born. We may drive down. It is only seventy-five miles away.

The more I learned, the more choosy I found myself becoming. Strolling in Paris, I noticed Gérard Mulot’s sign at 2 rue Lobineau, a step from the rue de Seine in the sixth arrondissement. Fabrication Maison depuis 1976. I liked this proud proclamation of the date as if it went back two centuries. What caught me, however, was the mention of pain au levain, which meant that Mulot was using a starter dough as his leavening. His pain de campagne was excellent with a faint and pleasant note of acidity, more to my liking than any I have found in my neighborhood of the seventh arrondissement.

On a recent Sunday afternoon I went to the big book fair at the Porte de Versailles because Paul Guth, whose Moi, Joséphine, impératrice (I, Joséphine, the Empress) is one of my favorite biographies, was to autograph his latest work. The delightful Mr. Guth has written more than fifty books and is one of the few contemporary French authors who has been able to live by his pen.

He turned out to be a fervent partisan of honest bread. I went to see him a few days later in his sixteenth arrondissement apartment where he writes with a pen at a small table looking out on what could be a small walled garden in the provinces.

At the request of other partisans, he had written a pamphlet entitled Le Pain en majesté, or Bread Enthroned, in which he called bread “God’s representative of his flesh and soul, born in the secret of the night during the night of time.” Like a troubadour of old, Guth proclaimed the virtues of bread battling against our delirium for speed, which was ruining our sensations and sentiments and leading to the downfall of the Occident. “With its eternal values, bread attaches us to the earth from which we are being torn by an industrial civilization.”

In his childhood in a peasant house in the Bigorre, a pretending-to-be-asleep little boy watched his aunt Amandine knead the dough. “Writhing, she lifted it in strips, stretched it, threw it, punched it down. All the while, she groaned softly with the wails of love, of birth, of death.”

After my next trip to Ganachaud, I dropped off a loaf at Guth’s door.

My friend Maxine, who eats out at a different Paris restaurant every night, told me excitedly, “I found two great new ones. And they are baking their own bread.”

Alain Passard is the chef-owner of l’Arpège at rue de Varenne in the locale that used to be l’Archestrate. The youthful Passard has two stars from Michelin. At Arpège, the bread is baked in the morning for the lunch service and in the afternoon for the evening service.

“Bread is very important in a restaurant and I love to make it. The customers are very surprised. Almost the first thing they say is, ‘Where do you buy this bread? It is fabulous. We don’t find it in Paris.’ Some of the women ask me, ‘Oh, if only I could have some with my coffee in the morning.’ If any is left over, I give it to them for toast.” His hundred clients a day manage to put away four kilos of Arpège’s individual rolls and six kilos of country bread, which is a lot of bread for a fashionable crowd.

Alain grew up with the taste of good bread. It was made by a farmer friend of his father. When he was twenty and already trained as a pastry chef, he said to his father’s friend, “May I spend two weeks and learn to make bread the way you do?” One of its secrets is sea salt from Guérande in Brittany, sel de Guérande, considered the Flower of Salt.

The fine bread accompanies a cuisine that is refined and restrained, genuine and unpretentious and never banal. An example is a simple and charming entrée consisting of cabbage leaves stuffed with crab meat in a light mustard sauce. The combination of rusticity and sophistication is characteristic of Alain Passard.

Like Passard, Gilles Epié of Le Miraville is a young Breton. His approach to food is much the same—imaginative and inventive without excess or affectation. His little restaurant was barely six months old when it received the accolade of a star from the Michelin.

He started baking bread while working in Brussels, and could find none that seemed suitable to partner his style of cuisine. The public’s reception convinced him to do the same when he came to Paris. Not an insipid bread but a forthright loaf with the fermentation set off by beer and grapes. Into his dough goes a touch of honey and the honorable sel de Guérande. There is never any bread left over to give the customers to take home.

At Charenton-le-Pont on the edge of Paris, an address as unprepossessing as the rue de Ménilmontant, is the small Musée Français du Pain. Occupying a floor in the head office of a flour-milling company that supplies most of the leading pastry chefs in France, it is an endearing place.

The museum is the dada of the company’s owner, Jacques Lorch. For twenty-five years M. Lorch has been ferreting out artifacts pertaining to the subject that is his passion. The collection now numbers more than a thousand pieces, and to obtain some of them he had to beat out offers from big museums around Europe.

“The story of bread is the story of the life of man,” said M. Lorch.

The oldest exhibit in the museum is a model of a granary in Egypt, dating back to approximately 2000 BC. We know that the ancient Egyptians already had leavened bread because when the Hebrews fled the country they went in such a hurry they left their starter dough behind. As a result the Exodus had to be effected on matzos.

On a fourth century AD Roman mold of the Goddess of Victory are the letters DULC, which, according to Lorch, was the abbreviation of the Roman confectioner Dulciarius. There are seals from many countries. During the ages when bread was brought to communal ovens for baking, it was the custom to mark the loaves. Thanks to these brands, an individual could claim his bread once it was baked.

Of the many documents on display, the one that captivated me most was a proclamation of November 15, 1793, announcing that only one type of bread could be sold, the Pain d’Égalité. Henceforth, there was to be no more white bread for the rich and black bread for the poor. The future did not promise Pie in the Sky but a compromise loaf for all alike.

“Can you find out more for me about the Pain d’Égalité?” I asked Lucien Pergeline of the Grands Moulins de Paris.

White flour is the ultimate refinement of the whole grain of wheat. According to the articles of the revolutionary decree, no more than fifteen pounds of bran could be extracted from one hundred kilos of any kind of grain. The order specified that all bread would be composed of three-fourths wheat flour and one-fourth rye flour. In localities lacking sufficient rye, barley flour was to be substituted.

In Article 9 the bakers were warned that they faced imprisonment if they made anything other than a single type of bread to be known as the “Bread of Equality.”

The law didn’t last for long. Under the empire of Napoléon I, the new aristocrats went right back to white bread. Society shifts. Now it is the well-to-do who cherish the virtues of the bread once spurned by the less well-off. If it came to a choice today, the former would rather give up cake.

Whether it is white or black, leavened or unleavened, bread is the food common to all mankind.

In Turkey, a land of long-respected traditions, any piece of bread seen lying upon the ground is to be raised, pressed against the heart, the lips, and the forehead, and then placed on a high ledge. One does not walk upon bread. It would be a sacrilege to the Creator.

As the poet sang, “A jug of wine, a loaf of bread—and Thou.”

Bread Box
“Bread is located at the crossroads between the material and the symbolic, between economics and culture,” notes Steven Kaplan in his excellent book Good Bread Is Back: A Contemporary History of French Bread, the Way It Is Made, and the People Who Make It (Duke University Press, 2006). Kaplan also points out various phrases and proverbs that feature bread in France: a person who is very ill has lost “the taste for bread”; a marvelous individual is “better than good bread”; and a tiresome experience is “as long as a day without bread.”
In short, bread matters in France. Kaplan, himself French, notes that “even if consumers eat much less bread than in the past, they see themselves in bread, which continues to contribute to their identity as French people. In public opinion, bread remains deeply bound up with the basic values of sociability and well-being, with sacred and secular communion.” In addition to Kaplan’s book, two other noteworthy bread reads are Bread of Three Rivers: The Story of a French Loaf by Sara Mansfield Taber (Beacon Press, 2001) and Boulangerie! Pocket Guide to Paris’s Famous Bakeries by Jack Armstrong and Delores Wilson (Ten Speed, 1999). In the first, Taber travels initially to Brittany to “understand bread in a deep way, beyond even the capacity of my tongue.” We follow her to master bakers elsewhere—while delving into salt, wheat, water, and yeast—and find that though Taber set out in search of something as simple as a loaf of bread, she instead found herself “sitting down to a rich, five-course French meal.” She acknowledges that it was sometimes difficult to learn about the way eating habits have changed the role of bread in French life, and that, as one baker told her, “the French bread the Japanese make is much better than the average French!” But she concludes that “romance based on ignorance and fantasy and unconscious prejudice is not as satisfying or rich as romance grounded in the truth. Maybe one can include fairy tales in the range of possibilities, and consciously choose to be romantic sometimes and just stick to the opinion that you are eating the world’s most glorious loaf of bread.” It’s a wonderfully written book that’s also an eye-opener. Boulangerie! is a paperback guide, a little bigger than an index card so you can easily carry it around with you, featuring 223 establishments in every arrondissement. A primary consideration for inclusion was the response to the question “Faites-vous le pain vous-même?” (Is your bread baked here in your shop?) The authors listed only boulangeries whose answer was yes; in 1997, the French government’s small business ministry stipulated that only bakeries that selected their own flour, kneaded their own dough, and baked the loaves on their premises may be called boulangeries. The boulangeries are not rated, but the author team assures readers that the selected listings will not disappoint.
Since 1993, there has been an annual Grand Prix de la Baguette de Tradition Française de la Ville de Paris contest, which is a long way of saying a Best Baguette in Paris contest. In March of 2010, 141 baguettes were sampled by fifteen judges, who included Franck Tombarel of Le Grenier de Félix (64 avenue Félix Faure, 15ème, and the 2009 winner) and Benjamin Turquier of Boulangerie 134 RDT (134 rue de Turenne, 3ème, and the 2009 runner-up). The 2010 winner was Djibril Bodian of Le Grenier à Pain Abbesses (38 rue des Abbesses, 18ème). (To learn the names of other honorees, try Googling “best baguette in Paris” and a year.) The editors at a great site called Paris by Mouth (parisbymouth.com) had a different list in 2010 (with some overlap); in their Five Great Baguettes, Eric Kayser (8 rue Monge, 5ème) took the number one spot, followed by Gosselin (258 boulevard Saint-Germain, 7ème), Du Pain et des Idées (34 rue Yves-Toudic, 10ème), Coquelicot (24 rue des Abbesses, 18ème), and Julien (75 rue Saint-Honoré, 1er). The contributing editors at Paris by Mouth, by the way, are a discerning bunch—they include head editor Meg Zimbeck as well as Alexander Lobrano, Clotilde Dusoulier, Dorie Greenspan, Patricia Wells, and Wendy Lyn. In their profiles on the site, they each share their Top 3 Paris Tastes, a valuable little guide by itself.
Culinary Paintings
Years ago, when I was looking through a large box of postcards I’d accumulated from various museums and galleries, I noticed that I had a great number of still life images, and these all depicted food and drink: walnuts, silver goblets, brioches, cherries, melons, apricots, beautiful bowls, coffeepots, wine, bread, apples, onions, picnics, fancy feasts … I had them all and I loved them and I didn’t want them hidden in a box anymore. But I had entirely too many to do something meaningful with them all, so I selected those I loved the best and had them framed. Some of these were actually high-quality cards suitable for framing, and they really do look fine under glass. These are now in my dining room and kitchen, and I’m so glad I can look at them often.
So, naturally, I love the Poilâne boulangerie, not only for the bread, which is outstanding, but for the little room in the back that is essentially a museum of paintings, all depicting loaves of bread. It seems not everyone knows about this room, but anyone is welcome to walk in—it’s just behind the cash register. I think it’s wonderful. The paintings were collected by Pierre Poilâne, who founded the original bakery in 1932. Lionel, Pierre’s son, later ran the business until he died tragically in a plane crash in 2002; Pierre’s daughter Apollonia is now carrying on the family tradition. The elder Poilâne exchanged his bread for paintings, and though I don’t believe they are particularly rare or valuable, they’re quite beautiful. As Pierre Rival explains in Gourmet Shops of Paris, the presence of the paintings “is testament to the strength of the link between Poilâne bread and art. Against the odds, the artists in Saint-Germain-des-Prés succeeded in making pain Poilâne fashionable.” Other favorites of mine at Poilâne are the punitions, unbelievably simple but delicious cookies, and the special decorated loaves—don’t miss these! At the Poilâne store online (poilane.fr), there are also wonderful French breakfast bowls and a bread knife that is to die for.
When I saw a book called Food in the Louvre (Flammarion, 2009), I knew I had to have it. What a combination: color reproductions of artworks in the Louvre with a preface by Paul Bocuse and recipes by Yves Pinard, head chef at the Grand Louvre restaurant. The artworks featured are by Jean-Siméon Chardin, Francken the Younger, Louise Moillon, Jan Steen, Murillo, Eugène Delacroix, François Boucher, and others; images also include a Roman floor mosaic, Egyptian crockery, and a Greek red figure cup. Bocuse writes that “for a chef, turning the pages of this book is a singularly rewarding experience.” He observes that many of the works have a festive aspect that illustrates his idea of what cooking should be: “Seated around a table with friends, time no longer means anything. For eating is above all sharing in the pleasure of other people’s company and many is the time in my restaurant I have noticed how a great meal depends first and foremost on the diners and on the interaction between them. An alchemical process seems to take place whenever people sit round a dining table.”

Liquid Gold
SUSAN HERRMANN LOOMIS

OLIVE TREES IN France thrive in regions far south of Paris, but in nearby Burgundy, the Huilerie Artisanale J. Leblanc et Fils specializes in another culinary item of note: nut oils. Though I’ve not visited the mill, I’ve been regularly visiting the tiny Leblanc shop in Paris’s sixth arrondissement for many years (6 rue Jacob). In addition to a variety of nut oils (I always select my favorite, hazelnut), there are very good mustards and vinegars, and the service is always friendly and helpful.

SUSAN HERRMANN LOOMIS is the author of numerous books, including On Rue Tatin: Living and Cooking in a French Town (Broadway, 2001), Cooking at Home on Rue Tatin (William Morrow, 2005), and French Farmhouse Cookbook (Workman, 1996). Most recently, she published Nuts in the Kitchen: More than 100 Recipes for Every Taste and Occasion (Morrow, 2010), which is filled with creative, uncommon recipes from around the world. (I particularly like the Parmigiano-Reggiano Seed Sticks, Mushroom and Walnut Tarte Tatin, and the hazelnut financiers, based on the recipe she helped develop when she was working on The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris with Patricia Wells.) She includes an essay in her book devoted to the Leblanc family.
Loomis founded and runs the On Rue Tatin cooking school (see this page) at her home in Normandy, and for several weeks each year the school moves to Paris, where she offers “another dimension of my passion for France.” One-day classes are also offered in Paris, as well as French country lunches in Louviers. Loomis maintains a blog, Life Is Nuts (nutsin.wordpress.com), and is a partner in NoTakeOut.com, a nifty Web site that helps users plan, prep, and cook an entire meal with fresh, seasonal ingredients.

 PLACED BEFORE YOU is that exquisitely simple French creation: a mélange of fresh, tender lettuce leaves dressed lightly in a tangy vinaigrette. The buttery aroma of hazelnuts wafts up from the crisp green salad, yet there isn’t a nut to be seen. Where oh where is that divine smell coming from?

Jean-Charles Leblanc, from the village of Iguerande in Burgundy, is the sorcerer behind this olfactory trick. Head of the family enterprise Huilerie Artisanale J. Leblanc et Fils, he supplies France and beyond with some of the world’s finest nut oils. Their products, which come from just about every nut in the world including the rare Moroccan argan nut, make their way into more than just salads: almond oil may be drizzled over a tender fish fillet, walnut oil incorporated into a moist cake, pine nut oil added to a bowl of pasta, pistachio oil tossed with avocado and grapefruit.

The Leblancs are far from being the only nut oil producers in France—indeed, there are too many to count, given that nearly every region that grows nuts has small mills that produce oil for local consumption. But Leblanc oils are considered the pinnacle of this culinary art.

Jean-Charles follows in the footsteps of his great-grandfather, who started the mill in 1878. Back then, local farmers brought their walnuts and rapeseed to the mill, which sits in the family barn located on the D982. Jean-Charles’s sister Anne—who grew up in the house next to the barn and now runs the family shop in Paris—describes Iguerande as paumé, or lost, in the middle of nowhere. But nowhere has become somewhere because of the family oil mill.

The minute you turn onto the D982, you know you’ve arrived—the air is redolent of toasted nuts. Jean-Charles’s mother minds the boutique, which was recently expanded, while his brother handles accounting and communications. The business has grown, but once inside the mill, you realize that the heart of this operation has changed little since great-grandfather Leblanc’s day. The only significant difference is that the huge stone that slowly grinds nuts beneath its bulk is no longer powered by a horse; a system of pulleys and belts suspended from the ceiling now keeps it turning. These many years later, that old stone wheel is still the best way to crush nuts without compacting them.

Daniel Demours, one of the company’s two employees who aren’t family members, scoops the coarsely ground nuts into a blackened kettle that sits over a gas flame. “We cook them to add flavor and allow the oil to separate,” he explains.

Demours checks the cooking nuts every few minutes—timing is everything. “These are pine nuts, and they cook fast,” he says, opening the lid and deftly stirring the mash, which has already turned from solid to almost liquid in the heat. “Most nuts should be cooked for about twenty minutes, but you’ve got to watch these carefully—they’re ready in about five.”

He walks over to the presses and checks the flow of oil coming from them. It has slowed to a mere trickle, signaling that it is time to add more nuts. He runs back to the kettle, takes off the lid, and inhales, tipping the runny mass into a container. He opens a press and removes the flat disks of compressed, nearly dry nut paste left after the oil is extracted. Each is separated by a woven mat used to filter the oil. “Mats used to be made of human hair,” notes Demours. “Now they are woven from synthetic fibers.”

He pours more pine nuts into the press, covers them with a filter, and repeats the process until the press is nearly full. He then cinches it closed, puts a barrel under the spigot, and waits for the golden liquid to flow. “We press in small batches—no more than twenty-five kilos,” says Jean-Charles. “That is the only way to get the highest quality.”

Once a barrel is full, it sits in the cool barn long enough for the oil to decant, a period of several days. It is then bottled, labeled, and stocked in a warehouse behind the mill. At least in theory. “We don’t really have any stock because we sell everything as quickly as we make it,” laughs Jean-Charles.

As if on cue, a farmer and his wife walk into the barn with a sack of walnuts. Jean-Charles weighs it on an old scale. “This is the last of this year’s harvest,” the farmer says. “I bring them in when I need more oil.” The couple leaves with a gallon jug.

The Leblancs now get only one-third of their walnuts locally; the rest come from the Périgord region. As for the other nuts that go into the dozen or so varieties of oils they produce, their provenance reads like a map of the world. Hazelnuts are from Italy and Turkey, pine nuts from China (the ones from Italy don’t yield as much oil), almonds and pecans from California, pistachios from Iran, poppy and squash seeds from Austria, peanuts from the southern United States. But only the highest quality nuts make it into the Leblanc presses.

The mill produces about three hundred liters of oil per day, 365 days a year. Leblanc père, now eighty-two, still delivers to clients within a fifty-mile radius. One is Franck Lesaige, chef and owner of Le Relais de Saint Julien in nearby Saint-Julien-de-Jonzy.

“I use Leblanc oils primarily in first courses,” says Lesaige. “One of my favorites now is a royale de foie gras. I dress artichoke hearts in pistachio oil, balsamic vinegar, shallots, and chives, then top it all with a foie gras cream.” He adds hazelnut oil to tête de veau, or boiled head cheese, and generally slips nut oils in whenever he has the inspiration.

Given their delicate flavor, nut oils are generally used for seasoning rather than cooking, although they are sometimes used in baking. Once opened, they must be refrigerated and will keep for about three months. Unopened bottles will wait indefinitely as long as they are kept in a cool dry place.

Huilerie Artisanale J. Leblanc et Fils, Le Bas, Iguerande, Burgundy (+33 03 85 84 07 83 / huile-leblanc.com). The Paris shop is located at 6 rue Jacob, 6ème / (+3301 46 34 61 55).

Chocolat
The great correspondent of the seventeenth century Madame de Sévigné counseled, “Take chocolate in order that even the most tiresome company seems acceptable to you,” which is also sound advice today! For me, fine chocolate is one of life’s supreme pleasures, and when I wanted to learn more about it I turned to what I think is the best book ever published on the subject: Chocolate: A Bittersweet Saga of Dark and Light by Mort Rosenblum (North Point, 2004), which was honored with an International Association of Culinary Professionals Award for literary food writing in 2006. The historic and contemporary story of chocolate is global, but how sweet for visitors to France that much of it is written in the chocolate shops of Paris. Rosenblum pleads that “if anyone ever banishes me to a desert island with only one style of chocolate, please make it French.” He also recommends The Chocolate Connoisseur by Chloé Doutre-Roussel (Tarcher, 2006), which I of course had to read as well.
For me, no trip to Paris is complete without visits to as many chocolatiers as I can fit in my schedule. Each boutique is different from the next, selling varied and often inventive creations, so each visit is a fresh experience.
My number one favorite chocolate stop is Pierre Hermé (72 rue Bonaparte, 6ème / 185 rue de Vaugirard, 15ème / pierreherme.com), which is a pâtisserie that also offers an outstanding selection of chocolates. Hermé began his career as an apprentice to Gaston Lenôtre, and he went on to stints at Fauchon and Ladurée before earning such accolades as “the Picasso of Pastry” (Vogue), “pastry provocateur” (Food & Wine), “the Kitchen Emperor” (New York Times), and “an avant-garde pastry chef and magician with tastes” (Paris Match). He was awarded the Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur in 2007, and is the youngest person ever to be named France’s pastry chef of the year. If you have a reason to buy pastries—you’ve been invited to someone’s house, you’re renting an apartment and you’ve invited friends for dinner, you’re putting together a pique-nique, or simply that it’s Monday—Hermé is a great stop as you can buy both pastry and chocolate, as well as other gifts. The pastries here are stunning and really stand out, especially in the sleek sliver of a space at the rue Bonaparte location. There are several chocolate assortments in various-sized boxes, and the knowledgeable staff can help you decide among them. (And don’t hesitate to try the délicieuses gourmandises à croquer—chocolate-covered candied grapefruit peels, my favorite!) I even love the bags your purchases come in: sturdy white paper with a die-cut design. Ambitious home bakers may want to try their hand at some of Hermé’s recipes in Desserts by Pierre Hermé (1998) and Chocolate Desserts by Pierre Hermé (2001), both written by Dorie Greenspan and published by Little, Brown.
As much as I love Pierre Hermé, I also love the chocolates at other Parisian shops:
Jean-Paul Hévin (231 rue Saint-Honoré, 1er / 3 rue Vavin, 6ème / 23 bis avenue de la Motte-Picquet, 7ème / jphevin.com). At the rue Saint-Honoré shop chocolates may be purchased to take away or enjoyed in the salon de thé upstairs.
Aoki (25 rue Pérignon, 15ème / 35 rue de Vaugirard, 6ème / 56 boulevard de Port-Royal, 5ème, with a salon de thé / Lafayette Gourmet, 40 boulevard Haussmann, 9ème, sada haruaoki.com). Like Pierre Hermé, Sadaharu Aoki is also a pastry chef, and he brings a matchless Japanese sense of order and aesthetics to classic French pâtissier.
La Maison du Chocolat (nine locations; its first, since 1977, is at 52 rue François-1er, 1er / lamaisonduchocolat.com). Though Maison now has stores elsewhere in the world, including New York, I still think the quality of the chocolates is excellent, and Maison hot chocolate is still the best. (Many folks say the best is at Angelina, 226 rue de Rivoli, but they’ve probably just never had it at La Maison du Chocolat.)
Debauve & Gallais (30 rue des Saint-Pères, 7ème / 33 rue Vivienne, 2ème / debauve-et-gallais.com). Paris’s oldest chocolate maker retains a soft spot in my heart even though I prefer the other chocolatiers here—I love the interior of the rue des Saint-Pères shop, dating from 1800. The old-fashioned, though exquisite, selections and packaging make better gifts for more traditional palates.
La Chocolaterie de Jacques Genin (133 rue de Turenne, 3ème). Genin’s creations were praised by Mort Rosenblum in Chocolate as his favorite chocolates in the world.) Before Genin’s Marais shop opened in 2008, he supplied Alain Ducasse’s restaurants, hotels like the George V and Le Crillon, and shops like Hédiard. Anyone else who wanted to try his chocolates had to make an appointment at his fifteenth arrondissement lab and agree to purchase a minimum order of one kilogram. In an interview with Lennox Morrison for the Wall Street Journal, Genin described himself as a rebel. “I don’t even want to be called a master chocolate maker. I call myself a foundry man who works with chocolate because that is what I do. I melt down chocolate to create fresh products.” In 1991 he went to La Maison du Chocolat and worked as head pâtissier, then left five years later to go off on his own. I know I’m not alone in being grateful for the new shop. Many people rave about the caramels, but I myself am partial to the chestnut-flavored sucre d’or, and I love the JG-monogrammed silver boxes—very classy.

The Anatomy of Success
Rémi Flachard, International Specialist
in Vintage Cookbooks

NAOMI BARRY

I HAD NEVER heard of Rémi Flachard before I read this piece, and I cannot wait to visit his bookshop the next time I am in Paris. Only Naomi Barry would describe it as a “gallimaufry,” which sent me to the dictionary, where I learned it means a hodgepodge or jumble. Perfect! Just my kind of shop. Though I’m of course interested to look at the “uncharted sea of books,” I’m even more interested in the menus marking historic occasions.




 THE SUBJECT OF gastronomy, like the subject of love, has been the stuff of literature for thousands of years. To read about food is to extend the pleasure of actually eating it. To read the menu of an inspired meal is enough to set the taste buds quivering. The market expert in this mouthwatering domain of bibliophilia is Rémi Flachard, who for the past twenty years has been supplying collectors around the world with works pertaining to their passion.

Flachard’s headquarters is a modest bookshop at 9 rue du Bac in the seventh arrondissement of Paris. His little shop, furnished in False Gothic, is a gallimaufry of vintage cookbooks ranging from rare to rarissime, plus a selection of quality titles from the twentieth century. Those from earlier centuries are splendidly leather-bound and generously tooled in gold. An important section of the stock is devoted to wine and vineyard culture. Another group deals with bread and bread making. The collection of historic menus is exceptional.

Most of the books are in French, which is not surprising since for centuries French chefs headed the kitchens of most of the royal courts of Europe and managed to write down what was going on. Just as French was the lingua franca in the world of the diplomats, French was the lingua franca in the world of the summit cooks, a world unmarked by borders.

Flachard is an exceptionally tall, thin fellow who sports exquisite shoes, boots, and bottines; speaks in a measured vieille France manner; and rain or shine bicycles twenty minutes to work each morning across Paris from the seventeenth to the seventh arrondissement. His ivory-tower shop maintains an active mailing list reaching into eight countries, where the collectors are avid to grab Flachard’s latest finds. Flachard’s high-end finds are not kitchen home companions—one does not risk gravy on an 1823 edition of a work by the legendary Antonin Carême or a treatise on the economic viability of the potato by the agronomist and army apothecary Antoine-Augustin Parmentier.

The other day I dropped in on Flachard, a way stop I enjoy every few months because it feels like a trip into a literary Paris of Once Upon a Time that I happen to adore. He was hunched over a table piled with ledgers, papers, index cards, and other paraphernalia. If Dumas or Balzac had walked in we probably would have said hello without surprise. The crowded scene is deceptive. Although the narrow premises appear to be an uncharted sea of books, Flachard, who knows his stuff, can locate in an instant any requested volume even when it is hidden deep behind two others. Thoughtfully, he has spirited the most valuable items out of sight. Thus one can feel free to browse without succumbing to a wave of excessive temptation.

Flachard was finishing preparation on his catalog (Number 39), a lovingly produced illustrated booklet describing exceptional items currently available. He mails out several thousand of his catalogs twice a year. Requests to purchase the catalog are frequent. He turns them down, saying, “The catalog is not for sale. Buy a book and I give you the catalog for free.”

With books priced in the hundreds and thousands of euros, the response at first sounds disdainfully lofty. Actually it is not as high-handed as it first might seem. The shop offers a considerable selection of quality books more digestibly priced from twenty to sixty euros. Consequently, obtaining Flachard’s gift catalog is not completely beyond reach. Serious collectors keep the catalog on their shelves as a source of reference.

Flachard was excitedly poring over a recently acquired set of fifty-five official menus commemorating banquets, dinners, and receptions that had taken place between 1900 and 1960. The precious trove represented the private collection of Pierre de Fouquières, who had been the French foreign office’s chief of protocol during what obviously was a highly entertaining period. On many occasions it was Fouquières who represented France at the party.

The stunningly designed menus in the Fouquières collection that Flachard was cataloging evoked the social history of an era. The wedding of the crown prince of Iran to Fawzia, the ravishing sister of Farouk of Egypt, was a lavish affair. Fifteen elaborately illuminated menus attest to the fifteen banquets that celebrated the ceremony. Fawzia eventually was repudiated for having produced only a daughter.

The elegant Fouquières, who from his photo was the quintessence of Fifty Million Frenchmen Can’t Be Wrong, had impresarioed glorious official receptions for delegations of Italians, Swiss, Belgians, Americans, English, and Norwegians. In 1911, Fouquières was an official guest at the festive dinner at the Calcutta Club for the marriage of Tikka Sahib, the son of the maharajah of Kapurthala, the mythically rich family whose fief was one of the princely states of India. According to the menu, the Kapurthala wedding dinner was as dazzling as anything dreamed up by Bollywood decades later.

The Franco-Russian Alliance, 1893 to 1909, can be followed through Flachard’s fascinating series of eleven beautifully decorated menus of meals that punctuated its many events. It was party time much of the way. The excitement began on October 19, 1893, when the municipality of Paris honored the officers of the Russian squadron with a sumptuous banquet at the Hôtel de Ville. Luminaries among the 564 guests were the mayors of Lyon, Marseille, Bordeaux, Lille, Toulouse, Le Havre, Nantes, and Reims. The illustrious catering firm of Potel et Chabot was engaged to serve the luxurious banquet.

The menus read like a diary of an embassy attaché.

On October 5, 1896, at two p.m., the Russian imperial yacht Polar Star arrived in Cherbourg on a courtesy visit. Aboard were Tzar Nicholas II and Tzarina Alexandra Feodorovna. They were greeted by President Félix Faure, who that night hosted a dinner in their honor at the Préfecture Maritime.

Nicholas and Alexandra were back in France again on September 18, 1901, this time steaming into Dunkerque on the imperial yacht Standart. President Émile Loubet hosted the welcoming lunch. Two days later the French president and the Russian tzar cohosted a gala dinner at the Château de Compiègne. Escoffier, in his Livre des menus, cited the dinner at Compiègne as a model for a grand presidential reception.

The menus from the years of the Franco-Russian Alliance are a footnote of history. The relationship obviously was warm. On July 28, 1908, the tzar and tzarina had dinner on the French warship Vérité, anchored in the roadstead off Cherbourg. A year later they returned to Cherbourg aboard the imperial yacht Standart, and were greeted like old friends. On the night of July 31, 1909, dinner on the Vérité was an eighteen-course royal gala.

The fête continued. Lunch aboard the Vérité on August 1, 1909, had been scaled down to a happy informal family affair. The tzar and tzarina had brought their children along on the trip, the four young archduchesses Olga, Marie, Tatiana, and Anastasia.

In his specialized librairie, Flachard has for sale a few memorabilia with gastronomic connections. I was captivated by a pencil portrait of the endearing Édouard de Pomiane, scientist, gastronome, and author of several delightful books always in demand.

At tony dinner parties in nineteenth-century Paris, the menu was passed around in a handheld porte-menu. Flachard has two examples of these elegant little accessories. One with a frame and handle in sterling silver was by the firm Charles-Nicolas Odiot (ca. 1850–1860). The other, in silver plate and marked by the firm Christofale, dates from 1900. Either one would add a charming grace note to any dinner party today.

Cooking Classes
There are a number of cooking classes in Paris (and nearby) for students at all levels of comfort in the kitchen, including:
Ritz Escoffier School (click École Ritz Escoffier at ritz paris.com).
Patricia Wells (patriciawells.com); see interview this page for more details.
On Rue Tatin (onruetatin.com), in Normandy and in Paris with Susan Herrmann Loomis; see page 247 for more details.
Promenades Gourmandes (promenadesgourmandes.com) with Paule Caillat.
Le Cordon Bleu (cordonbleu.edu).
See the Shaw Guides (cookforfun.shawguides.com) for many more listings.
If you’ve ever harbored thoughts about taking cooking classes in Paris, you’ve probably seen Sabrina (the original, of course, with Audrey Hepburn), and you’ll also likely devour The Sharper Your Knife, the Less You Cry by Kathleen Flinn (Viking, 2007), a book I very much love about the author’s bold decision to earn a full cuisine diploma from Le Cordon Bleu. On Flinn’s second day of the course, she looks at her bloodstained apron, “gray bits still clinging to parts of it. This isn’t like Sabrina at all. Audrey Hepburn would never have ended up covered in fish guts.” I laughed out loud, got teary-eyed, and cheered all the way for Flinn, and now I don’t have any desire to attend classes at Le Cordon Bleu, because it’s really hard, as Flinn will tell you. Anyone who completes a Cordon Bleu course deserves our praise and admiration. She includes many recipes from her course in the book, but to me these are quite secondary to her own story—about Paris, about cooking school, about friendship, love, and life.

Why We Love French Wine
PETER HELLMAN

I DON’T KNOW all the reasons that other people love French wine, but I know why I love it: in comparison to similar wines from other countries, French wine is almost always, over 95 percent of the time, better, in any type of vessel from which it’s drunk.

PETER HELLMAN is a journalist who has written for Wine Spectator, New York, the New York Times, Atlantic Monthly, Food & Wine, and other publications. He wrote the “Urban Vintage” wine and food column for the New York Sun until 2008, and is the author of The American Wine Handbook (Ballantine, 1987) and When Courage Was Stronger Than Fear: Remarkable Stories of Christians and Muslims Who Saved Jews from the Holocaust (Marlowe & Company, 2004).

 THE FRENCH INSIST that the unique glory of their wines originates in the soil—le terroir. For once, these rather immodest people are shortchanging themselves. The true source of French wines issues from their very own heads, hearts, and finicky palates. Otherwise, any batch of happy peasants could have invented Champagne, or determined that it takes thirteen different grapes to make a proper Châteauneuf-du-Pape, or managed to classify the great red wines of Burgundy (all made from the same Pinot Noir grape, mind you) into more than 250 grands crus and premiers crus.

This last fact struck home years ago as I drove along a tiny country road that hugged the vine-draped Côte de Nuits—a first pilgrimage to the region of my favorite wine. A sign marked the spot where the commune of Morey-Saint-Denis ended and Chambolle-Musigny began, fabled names to anyone who adores red Burgundy. The wine map in my head told me that the vines sloping gently upward to my right had to be the grand cru of Bonnes-Mares, a thirty-seven-acre appellation that straddles the two communes. (Full yet delicate, meaty yet refined, a well-aged Bonnes-Mares is my dream of red Burgundy.)

A woman was pruning vines near the road. I pulled over. “This must be Bonnes-Mares,” I said to her confidently.

Mais non, monsieur,” she said reproachfully. “This is only plain commune wine.”

I told her about the wine map in my head.

“Bonnes-Mares is not here,” she repeated firmly. “It’s over there.”

She pointed to a spot no more than half a dozen rows away. No undulation, dip, or break of any kind that I could see separated the vines of the grand cru of Bonnes-Mares from the communal stuff. Yet one wine fetches triple the price of the other. If you are lucky enough to drink a twenty-year-old bottle of Bonnes-Mares from a good vintage, I’ll lay odds that you won’t find it overpriced.

How serious are the French about le terroir? It’s said that the members of the INAO (Institut National des Appellations d’Origine des Vins et Eaux-de-Vie), entrusted with dividing the Côte d’Or into appellations as small as two acres (La Romanée), wouldn’t hesitate to actually taste the soil. How else to detect subtle differences between similar-appearing plots? Perhaps such differences accounted for the otherwise undetectable boundary between Bonnes-Mares and the lesser stuff.

Burgundy is the extreme example of the French compulsion to divide up territory. There are hundreds of appellations and an astounding number of place names. Charles de Gaulle once noted how difficult it is to govern a country that has a different cheese for every day of the year. How about a choice of wines for every cheese, mon cher général?

You’d think that so many wines would be a source of rampant confusion for the poor consumer. Actually, there’s comfort in the rigidly monitored appellation system. That’s because the French—an individualistic people in some ways—don’t try to create an individual statement with their wines the way so many New World winemakers do. They are best satisfied when they make a wine that conforms to the standards of their appellation. On the Médoc peninsula of Bordeaux, for example, wines from the southernmost commune of Margaux are typically highly perfumed and delicate. Wines from Saint-Estèphe, at the Médoc’s northern end, tend to be hard edged and meaty. You might say that Margaux draws curves and Saint-Estèphe right angles.

Here in Bordeaux, as in Burgundy, lines are sharply drawn in the soil. Just beyond the priceless vineyards of Château Lafite Rothschild in the commune of Paulliac, for instance, is land where no grapes deserving of the name Bordeaux may be grown. It’s only a stone’s throw from the most esteemed vineyard land in the world to the domain of reeds and bullfrogs.

If all French wines, Bordeaux in particular, were born beautiful, they’d be less wondrous when they come of age. In fact, there’s nothing meaner in the mouth than young Bordeaux from a strong vintage. In my own cellar is a cru bourgeois called Château Marsac-Séguineau, from the intense 1975 vintage, bought when it was young. A brilliant royal purple, it ripped my gums with its tannin—the vinous equivalent of an assault rifle. The wine stayed that way for more than a decade, and I gave up hope that it would ever mellow. But then, after a long hiatus, I gingerly tried another bottle. Eureka! That snarl had turned to silk. Well, almost. At sixteen years of age, the wine was still angular enough to provide the classic contrast to the rich taste of roast leg of lamb.

As we get older, there’s something deeply affirmative about the progress of well-aged Bordeaux. We hope that as the sap of our youth is left behind, we will show greater depth of character, soften our sharp edges, and become more interesting people. In short, we want to believe that with age we can still bloom. That’s precisely the path of a fine claret from youth to the fullness of age. We drink it overtly for pleasure. But we also drink it as a reminder that we can get not just older but better.

Usually it’s red wines and such sweet wines as Sauternes that we save for aging. A very few dry white wines can also improve with age. My memory settles on a dusty case of 1964 Corton-Charlemagne, a grand cru Burgundy from the esteemed shipper Robert Drouhin, that a friend and I found forgotten in the back of a wine shop in 1977. The proprietor, happy to get rid of wine he presumed to be over the hill after thirteen years, sold us the case at a bargain. We’d planned to hold off until dinner before trying a bottle, knowing that the wine might indeed be over the hill. Instead, on the way home, we pulled over to a shaded roadside picnic table. Out of the glove compartment came clear plastic cups and a corkscrew.

The smell of that wine mingled oak, freshly toasted country bread, and an elusive tang of lime. In the mouth came a rush of flavors and a texture that was simultaneously stony and unctuous. I’d be more specific, except that it is better to marvel at a great old white Burgundy—or red, for that matter—than to dissect it.

A year or so later, during a visit to Burgundy, I mentioned this marvelously youthful Corton-Charlemagne to a winemaker working in the Roman-era cellars of Drouhin located in Beaune. We were only a few miles from the hill of Corton.

His eyes lit up. “Ah, yes,” he exclaimed. “In 1964, you know, the secondary aromas never really gave way to the tertiaries. It was most unusual.”

The winemaker was alluding to the three phases into which French enologists divide a wine’s evolution—as perceived by le nez. Primary aromas are those of the fresh juice of the grape. Secondary aromas develop with fermentation, the smell of young wine. The best wines go on to develop a bouquet in which multiple scents perform a dance as complex and as evanescent as a Balanchine ballet.

You needn’t speak wine techno-talk to appreciate a wine like that ’64 Corton-Charlemagne. But the precise terminology does drive home a point: the best French wines are not produced by happy little peasants. They are an expression of the unique French blend of sensuality and science. It wasn’t by chance that fermentation was demystified by a wine-loving Frenchman named Pasteur.

We think of formal meals as the only way to properly honor a great wine in its prime. But that’s not necessarily so. I once carried home from Paris a single magnificent bottle of Burgundy, a 1961 Musigny from the Comte de Vogüé. I don’t mind saying that I have never, before or since, paid so much for a single bottle of wine. It awaited only a suitably lofty occasion to open it. For a long time, that opportunity never presented itself.

Then, for a birthday dinner, my wife prepared a favorite dish, potato and salt-cod purée, or what the French call brandade de morue. Its smell flowed from the oven and filled the house. As it came out of the oven, I heard a crash. Dashing in from the dining room, I found our beautiful old oval ceramic dish on the floor in shards, the brandade splashed everywhere and my wife in tears.

“This calls for the best bottle in the house,” I said as we cleaned up.

Our abbreviated birthday dinner consisted of a salad, some good country bread, a wedge of Gruyère—and that Musigny. It gave me the greatest pleasure of any wine I’d ever uncorked. Except, perhaps, for that Corton-Charlemagne drunk at roadside from a plastic cup.

Radishes
I love radishes, especially the long and slender kind known as French breakfast radishes, which are a little less sharp than the regular variety. I love radishes with a big blob of tapenade; I also like them alongside hard-boiled eggs, aioli, and slices of pumpernickel; I like them thinly sliced on a buttered baguette as a sort of tartine; and I even like them sautéed. But my favorite way to eat radishes is to dip chunks in softened, unsalted butter (preferably French) and then in flakes of fleur de sel—wow.
Molly Wizenberg loves radishes, too, as anyone who’s read A Homemade Life already knows, and recently I was happy to discover that Kate McDonough, editor of one of my favorite Web sites, the City Cook (thecitycook.com), and author of The City Cook (Simon & Schuster, 2010), does as well. After I read McDonough’s essay “Spring Cooking” on her site, I asked her if she would permit me to share it with readers of this book. She kindly agreed:
While radishes may not be the first ingredient you think of when it comes to spring cooking, they are for me.
On my first trip to Italy, a trip filled with memory-searing experiences, I tasted my first risotto. It was in Florence, at a small ristorante located alongside the Arno, about two bridges down from the Ponte Vecchio. The chef had spent a few years living in California and loved to guide Americans through his menu, and he convinced me to try a spring radish risotto. About thirty minutes later (every risotto was cooked to order; none of this half-cooked-then-finished-later risotto done by most U.S. restaurants) the waiter brought me a plate filled with almost soupy, pale pink rice. Its flavor combined the sweetness of butter and garlic with Parmesan’s salt and the pepper of spring radishes. The pink, of course, was from the radishes’ red skins. And the tender rice, combined with the crunchy cooked radish, was the chef’s genius.
A few years later my now husband and I were again traveling, this time to the Normandy region of France. We had rented a car to drive the coastal towns where the Battle of Normandy was fought and where, nearly nine hundred years earlier, plans were laid for the Battle of Hastings depicted in the extraordinary Bayeux Tapestry. Today Normandy is home to some of the best apple groves and dairy farms in all of Europe, a kind of bucolic disconnect from the area’s violent past; it is common to see cows roaming among the remains of concrete artillery pillboxes in the grass-covered hills over Omaha Beach.
We arrived in Bayeux just in time for lunch and spotted its weekly farmers’ market under way in a parking lot not far from the Bayeux Tapestry museum. Since we always traveled with basic picnic tools, we headed to the market with a corkscrew and a Swiss army knife. We spread our lunch on the hood of our rented Peugeot, making sandwiches from pieces torn from a just-baked baguette, a smear of sweet butter (could any other butter taste as wonderful as one sold by a Normandy dairy farmer at his local market?), and white-tipped spring radishes that we had rinsed with bottled water. Dessert was a wedge of an apple tart cut crudely with the knife’s small blade. No meal has ever tasted better.
I’ve long promised to try to make that pink risotto. I never have. I suspect I don’t want to disrupt the remembrance of that dinner along the Arno with my then boyfriend, now dear husband.
But as for that radish sandwich—it is a favorite that I crave every spring and summer. A baguette is perfect but radishes will stand up to any bread you like, including a whole grain. Spread the bread with good sweet butter, maybe an imported Irish or French butter because they usually have a higher butterfat content than those made in the U.S. For the radish, the slightly sweeter, elongated white-tipped radish is a great choice, but these can be difficult to find, even at farmers’ markets. So select round, firm red radishes that have a little waxy shine to their surface and minus any signs that they may have spent the last few weeks in a warehouse. Snip off the stems and roots, give a rinse, and cut each into thick slices. Arrange the slices—be generous—on the buttered bread and add a tiny pinch of your best salt (this is a time to use a precious fleur de sel if you have it).
Add a glass of cold, chalky Sancerre and it’s a perfect lunch or first course of a spring dinner.

RECOMMENDED READING

ABOUT FRENCH CUISINE

At Home in France: Eating and Entertaining with the French, Christopher Petkanas with photographs by Jean-Bernard Naudin (Phoenix, 1999). Four of the tables and maisons featured in this lovely book are in northern France—two in Paris, one in Beaujolais, and another in Brittany.
Between Meals: An Appetite for Paris, A. J. Liebling (North Point, 1986). This is one of those books that had reached legendary proportions in my mind before I even read it. It seemed to be mentioned in nearly everything I read about Paris. Predisposed as I was to like this book, it exceeded my expectations. With Liebling as a guide, I can taste the wine, hear the cutlery clanking, smell the Gitanes, and believe I’m sitting in a cane wicker chair at a Paris café.
The Cooking of Provincial France, M. F. K. Fisher with Julia Child (Time-Life, 1968). The collaborative effort to produce this book, one of the volumes in the Foods of the World series, was extraordinary, the likes of which we’ll probably never see again. (For a fascinating behind-the-scenes look at the series, see “Viola, the Soufflé!,” Gourmet, January 2006.) Though long out of print, this and other Foods of the World editions turn up regularly at yard sales, in used-book stores, and on the Web.
Culinaria France, André Domine (HF Ullmann/Tandem Verlag, 2008). This thick volume is one in the very good Culinaria series, great for travelers: each book is filled with beautiful color photographs and the culinary specialties of each region are presented in depth, so that visitors will know what to expect to see at markets and on local menus. One chapter is devoted to Paris and the Île-de-France, covering such topics as Les Halles, Parisian breakfast, Jewish breads and other specialties, and everyday Parisian fare, while others focus on the surrounding areas of Champagne, Lorraine, Alsace, Nord-Pas-de-Calais, Picardy, Normandy, Brittany, the Loire Valley, and Burgundy. Some recipes are included, but the Culinaria books are more informational than practical.
The Food of France, Waverley Root (Knopf, 1958; Vintage, 1992). “Eating habits,” says Root in the first chapter, “are part of our social habits, part of our culture, part of the environment, mental and physical, in which we live.” If your only vision of “French” food is limited to heavy sauces and butter, this definitive volume will open your eyes to the true diversity of France’s culinary map. There are separate chapters on the Île-de-France, Normandy, and Burgundy, where much of the food and wine served in Paris restaurants and offered in shops originates.
French Country Cooking, Elizabeth David (John Lehmann, 1951; various reissues available). The combination of David’s text and the beautiful color reproductions of artworks depicting food by Bonnard, Gauguin, Chardin, Signac, Monet, Renoir, and others makes this one of my most treasured volumes.
French Lessons: Adventures with Knife, Fork, and Corkscrew, Peter Mayle (Knopf, 2001). Mayle claims he can’t pretend to have done more than scratch the surface of French gastronomy, but the surface he did scratch is enlightening and entertaining. For this culinary journey Mayle traveled to all corners of France to attend the sort of wonderful gastronomic fêtes et foires that make visiting France so rewarding. He was surprised about “the high level of enthusiasm for any event, however bizarre, that sought to turn eating and drinking into a celebration. The amount of effort put in by the organizers, the stall holders, and the general public (who, in some cases, had traveled halfway across France) was astonishing. I cannot imagine any other race prepared to devote an entire weekend to frogs’ legs or snails or the critical assessment of chickens.” Four events are within two hours of Paris: Les Glorieuses, the most important chicken event of the year; the Foire aux Escargots in Martigny-les-Bains; Les Trois Glorieuses, a wine auction held every November in Beaune; and the boudin festival in Monthureux, north of Dijon. Best of all for travelers is the final chapter, “Last Course,” a detailed list of all the fairs, festivals, restaurants, and places featured, with contact information for each.
The Physiology of Taste, or Meditations on Transcendental Gastronomy, Jean-Anthelme Brillat-Savarin, translated by M. F. K. Fisher and with illustrations by Wayne Thiebaud (Counterpoint, 1994; originally published by Heritage Press, 1949; available in a new Everyman’s Library edition, 2009). Physiology is also available in several other editions, but this illustrated hardcover from Counterpoint is the edition to have (if you can find it). Brillat-Savarin (1755–1826) is right up there with Apicius as one of the world’s greatest gastronomes, and he is the one we have to thank for such observations as “The discovery of a new dish does more for human happiness than the discovery of a new star.” (Or, to quote Mort Rosenblum in A Goose in Toulouse, “Great human events are fine, Anthelme Brillat-Savarin observed, but let’s not forget lunch.”) I will surely be condemned for admitting that I’m a bit bored by some of the essays, but overall this is a masterpiece.
A Special Ensemble
Two books that I treasure and that I feel deserve to be noted separately are Bouquet de France: An Epicurean Tour of the French Provinces by Samuel Chamberlain with recipes translated and adapted by Narcissa Chamberlain (Gourmet Books, 1952) and Gourmet’s Paris (Gourmet Books, no copyright date appears anywhere in the volume I own, but I believe the book dates from the late 1970s or early 1980s).
Bouquet de France is a guidebook, restaurant directory, and cookbook, and even though the restaurant listings are obviously out of date (though a few are still open!) this is a terrific read. The Chamberlains lived for more than twelve years in pre–World War II France, and they contributed many articles to Gourmet. Narcissa’s passion was gastronomy while Samuel’s was illustration, and the illustrations in this book are what really set it apart.
Gourmet’s Paris does not feature illustrations but rather color photographs and a number of contributions from several writers, notably Naomi Barry, who opens her very good and still apropos essay with the observation that “everybody—consciously or subconsciously—comes to Paris looking for an extension of himself, for a talent not yet fully expressed, for a romance not yet realized, for a new way to look, a joie de vivre with vitamins plus, a heightened sense of identity, and sometimes just for Fun. Unless you are an ascetic by conviction, part of the fun will be eating, because Paris has a greater density of good restaurants than any other place on earth.” Like Bouquet de France, this is also a guidebook and a cookbook, a collection of love letters from a journey through “this best garden of the world.”

COOKBOOKS

I have long felt that you cannot separate the history of food from the history of a city or a country—they are intertwined, especially in France. Consider: Henri IV’s famous pronouncement that every family in his realm should be able to afford stewed chicken—poule au pot—every Sunday; the fate of chef François Vatel, who supposedly invented crème chantilly for a banquet in honor of Louis XIV at the Château de Chantilly, but then, after several mishaps including a late fish delivery, committed suicide before the crème was ever served; or the origin of the word “bistro,” possibly derived from Russian soldiers (occupying Paris in 1814 after the defeat of Napoléon) who felt food service was too slow, so they pounded their fists on tables and shouted, “Bistro!” meaning “Hurry!” Really great cookbooks—the kind with both authentic, tried-and-true recipes and detailed commentary on food traditions and unique ingredients—are just as essential to travel as guidebooks. The books below are my favorites for French and/or Parisian recipes. All I really need to note about them is that I turn to these often—I consider most to be as worthy as classic novels.

60-Minute Gourmet (Times Books, 1979) and More 60-Minute Gourmet (Ballantine, 1986), both by Pierre Franey. Franey’s column for the New York Times, featuring recipes that would take less than an hour to prepare, was a nationwide sensation when it appeared in 1975. Franey ushered in a new era of American cooking, but in the French style: all these recipes are French inspired, with titles in French, and all are reliable winners—many suited to weeknight cooking—for serving to family and friends.
Barefoot in Paris, Ina Garten (Clarkson Potter, 2004).
Bistro Cooking, Patricia Wells (Workman, 1989).
The Cook and the Gardener: A Year of Recipes and Writings from the French Countryside, Amanda Hesser (Norton, 1999). Hesser cooked for Anne Willan, founder of L’École de Cuisine La Varenne, for a year in Burgundy. (The school [lavarenne.com] is now located in California.) Hesser reminds readers that the stuff of a garden should never be very far away from a kitchen.
French Cooking en Famille, Jacques Burdick (Ballantine, 1989).
Mastering the Art of French Cooking, Volume I by Julia Child, Louisette Bertholle, and Simone Beck (1961) and Volume II by Julia Child and Simone Beck (1970), both published by Knopf. When I want to make the most classic of French dishes, I turn repeatedly to this set. I have never, ever been disappointed, though unlike the spirited Julie Powell (of Julie and Julia fame), I have not cooked every single recipe in these two exemplary volumes.
Saveur Cooks Authentic French, the editors of Saveur magazine (Chronicle, 1999). “French food,” as noted in the introduction, “is rich, its flavors concentrated, but it can satisfy in small amounts. No one eats cassoulet every day, and none but the most voracious have a second helping. But that one serving, once in a while, is a treasure house of flavors resonant of good living; it feeds the soul as well as the body.” This book is also valuable for “Our French Restaurants,” a great province-by-province guide to favorite places throughout the country.
The Taste of France, Robert Freson (Stewart, Tabori & Chang, 1983). This is that rare volume, one hundred great recipes paired with 375 fabulous photographs by Freson, plus outstanding contributions by Anne Willan, Alan Davidson, Jill Norman, and Richard Olney. A twenty-fifth anniversary edition was published in 2007.
Baking
I became a home baker because I was so inspired by the French art of pâtissier, but also because it seemed that every time I was invited to someone’s house for dinner, dessert was always an afterthought, some preservative-laden cake or pie purchased from the freezer section of a supermarket. I couldn’t understand why such attention was placed on the appetizer, the main course, and the wine, but not the dessert—so I started making them myself, and I might say I am now quite accomplished. Perhaps some of my favorite baking books will become favorites of yours:
The Cake Bible (William Morrow, 1988) and The Pie and Pastry Bible (Scribner, 1998), Rose Levy Berenbaum. The use of the word “bible” is not misplaced here as these are the most definitive books on the subject. For novices and seasoned bakers alike, featuring many cakes, pies, and tarts in the French tradition.
Great Pies & Tarts (1998) and Great Cakes (1999), both by Carole Walter and published by Clarkson Potter. The pies and tarts volume has more recipes for French-style creations than the cakes volume, but both are excellent.
La Maison du Chocolat, Robert Linxe (Rizzoli, 2001). I’m intimidated by some of these recipes from the legendary Paris chocolatier, but the Moist Chocolate Almond Cake and the Chocolate Almond Macarons are not complicated and wildly delicious.
Martha Stewart’s Pies & Tarts (Clarkson Potter, 1985). I plowed through this in much the same way that Julie Powell steadfastly made her way through Mastering the Art of French Cooking. (Okay, I can’t take quite as much credit as Julie, as there are three recipes I just never made.) Martha’s recipes for pâte brisée and pâte sucrée crusts are the ones I turn to still, and her recipe for tarte tatin is flawless.
Paris Boulangerie-Pâtisserie, Linda Dannenberg (Clarkson Potter, 1994). This fine book features recipes from thirteen legendary Paris bakeries; the pain d’épices honey cake from Pâtisserie Lerch is a staple at my house. The directory of mail-order sources in the United States and restaurant supply stores in Paris is great.
Ready for Dessert: My Best Recipes, David Lebovitz (Ten Speed, 2010). A revision of his Room for Dessert—which was an International Association of Culinary Professionals award nominee—and with a dozen new recipes, this wonderful book is filled with many French-inspired treats.

SINGLE-SUBJECT CULINARY BOOKS

I love to delve into books devoted to one culinary specialty, and here’s an assortment of some on specialties near and dear to the French:

Absinthe: History in a Bottle, Barnaby Conrad III (Chronicle, 1988). This is an alluring history of the infamous anise-flavored libation also known as la fée verte (the green fairy). The production, distribution, and sale of absinthe was banned in France on March 16, 1915, as it was believed to be the cause of alcoholism, suicide, general insanity, and epilepsy. Wormwood and its essence, thujone, was the ruinous and dangerous ingredient. Absinthe had its supporters, but they had no sway over the army: absinthe promoted drunkenness among soldiers, and it was crucial for the troops to be sober and united against Germany. In 1922, the government allowed the sale of wormwood-free absinthe, known today as pastis, available from producers such as Pernod and Ricard.
Cheese: A Connoisseur’s Guide to the World’s Best, Max McCalman (Clarkson Potter, 2005). This beautifully photographed and useful book features cheeses from around the world, but, naturally, many of them are French. I like it especially for the wine-pairing tips; the book makes a great gift when accompanied by selected cheeses and the recommended paired wines.
The Joy of Coffee: The Essential Guide to Buying, Brewing and Enjoying, Corby Kummer (Houghton Mifflin, 1995; revised 2003). A comment I often hear from people who visit France is that the coffee is so much better there. I believe it’s not the coffee that’s better but the quality of the preparation and the dairy products. (Coffee, after all, does not grow in France, and good-quality beans are available to coffee roasters around the world.) Coffee lovers will find this book enlightening as it addresses plantations, cupping, roasting, grinding, and storing (the best place for storing, if you drink it every day, is not in the freezer, as many people mistakenly believe). But even better are the recipes for baked goods that pair particularly well with coffee. I’ve made almost all of them and can vouch that they are especially yummy; the Unbeatable Biscotti are just that.

Photo Credit 22.2

Olives: The Life and Lore of a Noble Fruit, Mort Rosenblum (North Point, 1996). Rosenblum tackled olives before he got to chocolate, and for those of us who love olives this is an essential read. Olives symbolize “everything happy and holy in the Mediterranean,” and though there is nary an olive tree growing around Paris, it matters not. “Next time the sun is bright and the tomatoes are ripe,” Rosenblum advises us, “take a hunk of bread, sprinkle it with fresh thyme, and think about where to dunk it. I rest my case.”
Salt: A World History, Mark Kurlansky (Walker, 2002). Did you know that salt makes ice cream freeze, removes rust, seals cracks, cleans bamboo furniture, kills poison ivy, and treats dyspepsia, sprains, sore throats, and earaches? Salt is believed by Muslims and Jews alike to ward off the evil eye, and bringing bread and salt to a new home is a Jewish tradition dating back to the Middle Ages. I was humbled to learn that the La Baleine sea salt I’ve been buying for years is owned by Morton, and I was surprised to learn that most of the salt mined today is destined for deicing roads in cold-weather places around the world. (Readers interested in more myriad uses for salt should get the nifty Solve It with Salt: 110 Surprising and Ingenious Household Uses for Table Salt by Patty Moosbrugger.)
Wine Box
True wine lovers want to know about all the wines of the world, even if they may prefer French wines over others. The following books are all good general resources for wine and include sections on French wine. (And wine in a box, by the way, is decent if not good in France. Though I have yet to try an American boxed wine that’s a match for any of the French brands—if you come across one, please let me know.)
Great Wines Made Simple: Straight Talk from a Master Sommelier, Andrea Immer Robinson (Broadway, 2005, revised edition).
Jancis Robinson’s Wine Course: A Guide to the World of Wine (Abbeville, 2006, revised edition).
Michael Broadbent’s Vintage Wine: Fifty Years of Tasting Three Centuries of Wine (Harcourt, 2002).
The Oxford Companion to Wine, Jancis Robinson (Oxford University Press, 2006, third edition).
The Pleasures of Wine (2002) and Vineyard Tales (1996), both by Gerald Asher, wine editor at Gourmet for more than thirty years, and published by Chronicle.
What to Drink with What You Eat: The Definitive Guide to Pairing Food with Wine, Beer, Spirits, Coffee, Tea—Even Water—Based on Expert Advice from America’s Best Sommeliers, Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page (Bulfinch, 2006).
Windows on the World Complete Wine Course, Kevin Zraly (Sterling, 2009, updated edition).
The Wine Bible, Karen MacNeil (Workman, 2001).
Wine People, Stephen Brook (Vendome, 2001). This is a unique collection of forty portraits of individuals involved in all aspects of wine production and consumption. The profiles are not limited to proprietors and producers, but also include wine merchants and traders, wine writers, a collector, an auctioneer, and a sommelier—and the majority are French. Brook reminds us that wine is a fascinating subject, “a culture that binds together the aristocrat and the peasant, the producer wedded to his soil and the sharp-eyed city merchant, the cautious grower and the extravagant consumer. It is a major source of conviviality. A raised glass can bring down, if only temporarily, national boundaries.”
The World Atlas of Wine, Hugh Johnson and Jancis Robinson (Mitchell Beazley, 2007).

ABOUT FRENCH WINE

Adventures on the Wine Route: A Wine Buyer’s Tour of France, Kermit Lynch (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1988). Lynch, a wine merchant based in Berkeley, California, has earned a reputation for championing very good wines from smaller, sometimes eccentric producers that might never be found in the United States were it not for his efforts to import them. Lynch’s journeys around France, on routes and in cellars, are truly fascinating, as are the men and women who make the wine he loves. The late noted food and wine writer Richard Olney has it exactly right when he opines in the preface, “No book on wine and the people who make it has ever been written that remotely resembles Adventures on the Wine Route.” Regions near Paris that Lynch visits include the Loire, Beaujolais, Côte-d’Or, Chablis, and Mâconnais-Chalonnais. This book was the winner of the Veuve Clicquot Wine Book of the Year award.
Alexis Lichine’s Guide to the Wines and Vineyards of France (Knopf, 1989, fourth edition). Lichine, a former wine exporter, grower, and winemaker (Château Prieuré-Lichine), notes that “from time immemorial, the world’s greatest wines have come from France. Though not large in size, for the diversity and quantity of wine it produces France could be a continent.… There is hardly a corner of the country that does not offer its own distinctive wines and cuisine, history and scenery, in almost equal measure.” Though this wonderful book is out of print, it can still be found and is still very much worth reading for context.
Hachette Atlas of French Wines & Vineyards, edited by Pascal Ribéreau-Gayon (Hachette, 2000). I defer to Robert Parker in his foreword for the best endorsement of this fine book: “This comprehensive book splendidly chronicles and describes the wines of France. It is to be applauded loudly by anyone with a fondness for that country’s diverse and dynamic viticulture.”
Reflections of a Wine Merchant: On a Lifetime in the Vineyards of France and Italy, Neal Rosenthal (North Point, 2008). Rosenthal began working in the wine business in 1978, and with his partner, Kerry Madigan, formed Rosenthal Wine Merchant and Mad Rose Group (madrose.com), an “umbrella for a close-knit group of people who understand that wine is an agricultural product and that in its best and purest form wine must reflect a specific sense of place.” Terroir, then, is of the utmost importance to Rosenthal. He notes on his Web site the two rules that guide Rosenthal Wine Merchant: “Ninety percent of the ultimate wine is created in the vineyard, and the role of the winemaker is to let the wine make itself.” Today Rosenthal’s company represents approximately seventy-five producers, and he shares stories about some of them in this engaging book.

Rosenthal endeared himself to me when I read, “I am curious about the new and different, but I am most at home with the tried and true. Ultimately, my portfolio of growers and their wines reflects my search for wines that are part of classical tradition. As a result, we may be out of the mainstream.” I feel the same way about the wines I prefer. I also like his answer to this interview question on WineLibrary.com: “What advice would you give a novice wine drinker to help him or her deepen his/her appreciation of wine?” Rosenthal’s advice is to “find a wonderful, passionate, generous retail merchant who is willing to share his/her knowledge. Then, most important of all, be a curious consumer.” Rosenthal Wine Merchant represents producers throughout France, and profiles of them are available on the Mad Rose Web site.

Wine and War: The French, the Nazis, and the Battle for France’s Greatest Treasure, Don and Petie Kladstrup (Broadway, 2001). Journalists Don and Petie Kladstrup made a fascinating discovery while working on a story about the French government’s plan to dig a tunnel through the Loire Valley for the high-speed TGV train network. In the course of their interview with Vouvray vintner Gaston Huet, who opposed the plan, the Kladstrups learned “one of the most amazing stories we have ever heard, a story about courage, loneliness, despair and, in the end, how a tiny bit of wine helped Huet and his fellow POWs survive five years of imprisonment.” The writers met other winemakers and heard other stories, and quickly realized that they deserved to be shared and remembered in a book. Some readers may not be aware that the Germans drew the demarcation line between France’s occupied and unoccupied zones quite deliberately: the prized vineyards of Bordeaux, Champagne, and Burgundy were not by accident part of the occupied zone. The Kladstrups reveal some truly extraordinary tales about the resourcefulness of wine producers and the villainy of collaborators. Three years of research and interviews aided the Kladstrups in unraveling this previously untold chapter of history, which often reads like a thriller and which I highly recommend.
  
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The Wines of France: The Essential Guide for Savvy Shoppers, Jacqueline Friedrich (Ten Speed, 2006). Friedrich’s “Norman Rockwell block” in South Orange, New Jersey, was wine-free when she was growing up, and her first wine loves were Riunite Lambrusco, Lancers, and Mateus. But Friedrich has since become a wine maven, and she is really passionate about French wine. She’s not afraid to assert that “France is the greatest winemaking country in the world. And it always will be, at least in our lifetime.” (I agree.) This is a hugely helpful book both for visitors to France and wine-buying readers at home.

INTERVIEW


Kermit Lynch

Kermit Lynch, author of Adventures on the Wine Route (noted above), opened a retail wine shop in Berkeley, California, in 1972 and later began importing and distributing wines nationwide. Among the noteworthy wines he imports is Domaine Tempier Bandol, which I discovered by reading Adventures and is now one of my favorite wines on earth (a bottle is even featured on the cover of my previous book on Provence, the Côte d’Azur, and Monaco).

“Wine is, above all, pleasure,” notes Lynch, and this tenet is abundantly clear in his writing. Though I’ve not yet met him, I believe his enthusiasm for wine is infectious; when his talented staff members write about wine in the store newsletters, they, too, enthuse with unrestrained pleasure in their tasting notes. The store’s online newsletter, by the way, is fantastic, educational, and somewhat legendary—if you like wine, you will want to subscribe (kermitlynch.com), but you can also read Lynch’s Inspiring Thirst: Vintage Selections from the Kermit Lynch Wine Brochure (Ten Speed, 2004). Nearly all the notes make me want to run out and buy a bottle faster than I can say vin. For example, of the 2007 Château Roûmieu-Lacoste Sauternes Cuvée André, the review states, “I believe that if you don’t drink some of this monumental Sauternes—well, only a masochist would miss the experience this wine provides. It is one of the great bottles of the past few years—an essence of peach, apricot, and orange peel, one of the most delicious things your mouth will ever have the pleasure to contain. A work of art, I say, noble rot and noble sweetness.” And of a 2009 Régis Minet Pouilly-Fumé from the Loire: “You’ll rarely see rounder, plumper Sauvignon Blanc. Thankfully there is freshness and nerve to keep it standing up straight and you have the best of both worlds. This is not quaffin’ Sauv Blanc, it is serious food wine.”

In 1998, Lynch was honored with a Chevalier de l’Ordre du Mérite Agricole; in 2000 he was named Wine Professional of the Year by the James Beard Foundation; and in 2005 he received the Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur. In 1998 Lynch purchased Domaine Les Pallières—founded in the fifteenth century and remaining in the Roux family for nearly six hundred years—in Gigondas, Provence, with the Brunier family of Vieux Télégraphe. He and his family live part of the year in Provence, “near enough to Domaine Tempier that I can fill up the trunk of my car whenever I need to.”

Q: When did you first visit France, and what did you find inspiring?
A: My first trip was in 1971. I spent time in Paris and Cassis, and also a lot of time in Salzburg and Barcelona. In all three countries I admired the food and wine cultures.

  

  

Q: You often cite your visit to Jean-Baptiste Chaudet’s wine shop in Paris on a trip to France in 1974 as “enlightening.” At the time you had a French vocabulary of about twenty words. How was Chaudet helpful to you, and is his shop still in business?
A: Chaudet’s store is closed, unfortunately, but he taught me that there were great wines in the little-known AOCs (Appellation d’Origine Contrôlée, the French system of designating, controlling, and protecting the geography and quality of wines, liquors, and foods, notably cheese).
Q: What are some Loire and Chablis wineries that you recommend for visitors, and are reservations necessary?
A: A lot of wineries in Chablis receive visitors. It is best to go and knock on the door. Most will be welcoming, but not Bernard at Domaine Raveneau. He’s closed to the public. In the Loire, same story, but all my producers there will receive visitors. My staff can help, or people can just call or have their hotel arrange for a visit.
Q: Do you often get invited for meals at the homes of winemakers?
A: I am often invited to dine at my producers’ homes and have known some great home cooks like Lulu Peyraud of Domaine Tempier, Gérard Chave, Maguey Brunier, and many others. Some particularly memorable pairings have included bouillabaisse with a cool young red Bandol, leg of lamb with a red Châteauneuf-du-Pape, asparagus with Cheverny, and oysters and grilled sausages with Chablis.
Q: What’s considered your “house wine” at your home, wine that you pour for everyday drinking?
A: I drink white Burgundy often: Pouilly-Fuissé from Domaine Robert-Denogent is a recent favorite around the house. My wife always looks for a glass of Bandol rosé as an apéritif. We drink a lot from my winery, Domaine Les Pallières in Gigondas, which I make to my own taste: a full-bodied red but not heavy, oaky, or aggressive.

Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant is located at 1605 San Pablo Avenue in Berkeley (510 524 1524). Browse the Web site (kermitlynch.com) to search the newsletter archive and to learn more about the wines represented.

INTERVIEW


Ina Garten

Readers who may have met Ina Garten at one of her many book signings know that she is as gracious and enthusiastic in person as she appears on her Food Network show, Barefoot Contessa. I feel fortunate to know her, and I can confirm that her warm personality isn’t just confined to her work: Ina is a real down-to-earth, thoughtful, fun-loving person. Plus, she’s gaga for Paris! In her seven bestselling cookbooks (all published by Clarkson Potter), she has boosted the confidence of many home cooks to tackle dishes they might otherwise never have tried, and she firmly believes cooks should have fun at their own parties. Her book Barefoot in Paris (2004) is devoted to simplified versions—but without loss of flavor—of many classic French dishes. Note that even if you don’t cook, you should take a look at her list of recommended Parisian places at the back of the book.

I recently caught up with Ina by telephone as she was in the final stages of completing her most recent book, How Easy Is That? (2010).

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Q: When did you first know you wanted to visit Paris?
A: When I was three years old, my grandparents brought me back a dress they’d bought in Paris. I loved that dress, which I always referred to as my Paris dress, even though I had no concept of what Paris was—I’m not sure I even knew it was a city. I just knew it had to be a special place.
Q: When did you finally get to Paris?
A: When I was growing up, my parents thought that traveling to Europe was something you had to do in your life. But, according to my father, it was something you did only with a husband, along with acquiring cashmere and pearls. I was twenty-three when I married Jeffrey, and during the first week we were married he gave me pearls and cashmere. A year later we went on an American Express tour to Rome, Paris, and London. Recently, I discovered a box of letters Jeffrey wrote to me in high school—I met him when I was fifteen. He wrote one letter in particular that neither of us remembered. In it, he wrote, “Someday I’d like to take you to Paris. We won’t have much money at first, and we’ll have to rough it, but maybe one day we could stay in a nice hotel. And maybe one day we could buy an apartment there.” It was really a wonderful surprise to find this letter.
Q: The wonderful cities of Rome and London aside, what did you think of Paris when you got there?
A: How can you go to Paris and not think it’s the most fantastic place you’ve ever been? I don’t remember a lot of specific details about that first trip, though I do remember going to the outdoor food markets, which I loved. I remember going to the Poilâne boulangerie. I think I loved to cook—that’s another thing I never did until I married. But clearly that’s what I was interested in, even though in college, at Syracuse University, I started out in fashion design and I also studied business.
Q: You bought an apartment in Paris in 2000. What arrondissement is it in, and what are some of your favorite things about your quartier?
A: I was very specific about where I wanted to live in Paris. I told several real estate agents that I wanted an apartment that was within walking distance of the boulevard Raspail market, the cheese purveyor Barthélémy (51 rue de Grenelle), La Grande Épicerie in the Bon Marché department store (38 rue de Sèvres), and Poilâne (8 rue du Cherche-Midi). I went to Paris for one week per month for a year to look at apartments. There was one agent that I just knew was going to find the right apartment—he didn’t forget about me after I left, and one day he called me in New York and said, “I have the apartment for you. It’s in the seventh arrondissement. Come see it.” I asked Jeffrey, “What should I do?” and he said, “Go quickly!” So I flew to Paris that night. I remember that I only had a handbag with me. I looked at the apartment, and it was the most god-awful apartment I’d ever seen in my life. The kitchen was gray and pink. I really couldn’t see myself living there, so I told the agent I was sorry but I couldn’t possibly buy this apartment. He suggested we go have lunch and then come back and see the apartment again. He probably thought it would look better after a big bottle of wine. But it didn’t—it was dreadful. So I left Paris, but I dreamt about the apartment on the plane flight home. I just couldn’t decide. It needed major renovation. But a friend said to me, “You can fix the apartment but not the location.” And that was it. The price was reasonable (the franc was low then) and so I bought it and have never looked back. Jeffrey never saw the “before”—we had an implicit deal: I could do whatever I wanted with the apartment as long as he didn’t have to be involved with the renovation. So we walked in together when it was all finished and it was so exciting.
In my neighborhood I love to have a picnic in the Luxembourg Gardens, I love going to the movies, and I love an omelette and a glass of Champagne at Flore. There’s a wonderful Italian restaurant called Marco Polo (8 rue de Condé) and another one called Le Cherche Midi (22 rue du Cherche-Midi). [Note to readers: this is a favorite restaurant of mine as well!] Also, the Café de la Croix-Rouge (Carrefour de la Croix-Rouge, near Saint-Sulpice) is a favorite. The Village Voice (6 rue Princesse) is my local bookstore and it’s great. I’m lucky to live near the most extraordinary florist, Marianne Robic (39 rue de Babylone). Her shop is so amazing! She creates unexpected bouquets, like pairing big bunches of fresh mint with white roses—she’s a genius. New to the neighborhood is Pâtisserie des Rêves (93 rue du Bac)—my taste goes more toward Poilâne, but Rêves is really lovely.
Q: How often do you get to Paris?
A: Four times a year.
Q: When you have guests, what are some things you recommend they add to their itineraries?
A: Most of my guests have been to Paris before, so I don’t recommend the Louvre, for example, or a lot of the well-known highlights. Most of the things I know everybody knows, but I do love the Musée Nissim de Camondo (63 rue de Monceau, 8ème). The kitchen there is amazing. It was renovated by Shoré Dupuy, who was the head designer for the prestigious La Cornue stove company, founded by Albert Dupuy in 1908 (she also renovated my kitchen). The dining room—with the table all set—is also great, and the museum really gives you a sense of how people lived in the early to mid-1900s.
Q: Now that you’ve been in Paris for ten-plus years and have seen all the major sites, how do you most like to spend your time?
A: In the beginning we used to just wander around our neighborhood. We felt then, and still do, that the thing about Paris is that it’s the world: you can go just about everywhere in the world and never leave the sixth and seventh arrondissements! We’re terrible tourists—though I do go to Belgium quite a bit and take some overnight trips to London and Milan, we pretty much stay close to home. For us Paris is really vacation time. We have a lot of really good friends who live there, and we spend time with them and we go to the park and read books. Recently, I did see an Yves Saint Laurent exhibit at the Petit Palais, which was one of the greatest shows of all time, but that was more an exception than the rule.
Q: Do you take trips outside of Paris, and if so where do you go?
A: We’re really just starting to explore the rest of France. Near Paris, the Champagne district is fabulous. I’m a huge Veuve Clicquot fan—we had lunch there with a winemaker, and every course was paired with a different sparkling wine, including a demi-sec Champagne that I’d never had before. It was sweet and was paired with a choclate cake. The history of Veuve Clicquot is fascinating, and Madame Clicquot was too: she was widowed at the age of twenty-seven with no experience in business of any kind, as she came from a wealthy ancien régime family. In her private life she was conservative and conventional, but she was willing to take risks in the vineyard and she was a brilliant businesswoman. We’ve also enjoyed visiting Normandy, where we have a friend who has a château on the coast with an incredible garden. And we’ve traveled a lot in the south, throughout Provence and to Nice on the Côte d’Azur. I do anticipate that we’ll plan more travels within France.
Q: How do you incorporate Paris into your life here in New York?
A: Actually, I deliberately don’t. It would be very easy to bring back, say, Mariage Frères teas and Poilâne bread, but I like to leave them in Paris so that they’re special for the times when I’m there. In New York, I frequent La Maison du Chocolat (1018 Madison Avenue, 30 Rockefeller Center, and 63 Wall Street), and I do enjoy a nice treat from Hermès (691 Madison Avenue and other locations). I’m so happy that Frédéric Malle has just opened here in New York (898 Madison Avenue). It’s a fabulous space—in a beautiful Art Deco building with 1930s French art and furniture from his own collection—and the Malle fragrance I wear is Une Fleur de Cassie.

  

  

Q: What do you miss when you’re away from Paris?
A: I miss the way French people entertain. When they entertain it’s really special. Every time you get invited for dinner the meal is incredible and everyone talks about interesting things, and everyone stays up until two in the morning (somehow, in Paris, you just do it) and I love sleeping in until ten. I also miss the more leisurely pace of French life, which is completely different from here. But I think the thing I miss the most there is that people really appreciate the food. The food here in the States has been so altered, and everything you taste is so watered down, with no true flavor. When you taste a strawberry in France—which of course, at the outdoor markets, would be available only in the spring—you’re reminded more of strawberry jam. It’s bursting with true strawberry flavor and tastes like the best strawberry you’ve ever had, because it is. There is also more than one variety of strawberry. Take raspberries as another example—they’re available year-round in North America, so they’re not special, and also they have no taste. There’s a real sense of the seasons in France.
Q: When I was working on my travel journal En Route (Potter Style, 2007), you were one of several travelers I asked about what books inspired your wanderlust over the years. Like me, you said that you always read books based on the place you’re going, and for you this is mostly France. At the time, you mentioned your favorites were Paris to the Moon by Adam Gopnik, A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway, The World at Night by Alan Furst, Mastering the Art of French Cooking by Julia Child, and The Wirtz Gardens by Patrick Taylor (which is about the Belgian landscape gardener Jacques Wirtz, who believes very strongly in preserving the spirit of a place in his work). What books might you add to the list today?
A: I also love all of Janet Flanner’s writing about Paris and The Flâneur by Edmund White.
Q: You have such a busy schedule, yet you seem to balance everything really well. Have you picked up any tips about organizing from the time you spend in Paris?
A: I haven’t picked up any tips in France, but I’m very disciplined about how I spend my time. It’s very easy to get carried away with all the things people want you to do. We plan our trips a year in advance, and France is like the circuit breaker. It’s inviolate, to the point where, for example, a friend of ours had a bar mitzvah and we flew home for it and we flew right back. Paris equals time off for me. It’s a really important part of my really busy life.

Fear of food, indulgences, and small helpings. Because of media hype and woefully inadequate information, too many people nowadays are deathly afraid of their food, and what does fear of food do to the digestive system? I am sure that an unhappy or suspicious stomach, constricted and uneasy with worry, cannot digest properly. And if digestion is poor, the whole body politic suffers.… The pleasures of the table—that lovely old-fashioned phrase—depict food as an art form, as a delightful part of civilized life. In spite of food fads, fitness programs, and health concerns, we must never lose sight of a beautifully conceived meal.

—Julia Child, The Way to Cook

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À TABLE!

I can hear the glass door of the café grate on the sand as I open it. I can recall the smell of every hour. In the morning that of eggs frizzling in butter, the pungent cigarette, coffee and bad cognac; at five o’clock the fragrant odor of absinthe; and soon after the steaming soup ascends from the kitchen; and as the evening advances, the mingled smells of cigarettes, coffee, and weak beer.
—GEORGE MOORE,
Confessions of a Young Man
There’s no city in the world where you eat better. Period.
—ALEXANDER LOBRANO,
Hungry for Paris

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A Clean, Well-Lighted Café in Montparnasse
ADAIR LARA

I HAVE BEEN a fan of this essay since its original appearance in the San Francisco Chronicle in 1991, and it continues to bring a big smile to my face.

ADAIR LARA wrote a popular (and often very funny) twice-weekly column for the Chronicle for twelve years, and her award-winning columns have been published in several collections: Welcome to Earth, Mom: Tales of a Single Mother (Chronicle, 1992), At Adair’s House: More Columns by America’s Formerly Single Mom (Chronicle, 1995), and Slowing Down in a Speeded-Up World (Conari, 1994). Lara is also the author of Naked, Drunk, and Writing (Ten Speed, 2010), You Know You’re a Writer When … (Chronicle, 2007), Hold Me Close, Let Me Go (Broadway, 2001), The Granny Diaries (Chronicle, 2007), and Normal Is Just a Setting on the Dryer and Other Lessons from the Real, Real World (Chronicle, 2003), among others. She has contributed to numerous magazines, including Cosmopolitan, Departures, Glamour, Redbook, Ladies’ Home Journal, and Good Housekeeping. San Francisco mayor Willie Brown declared May 17, 2002, Adair Lara Day.

 PARIS—IT was a pleasant café in Montparnasse, the famous artists’ quarter of Paris. An American sat at a small table, took out a yellow pad, and began to write. A cup of coffee steamed at her elbow. It was good to sit in a café and watch the people go in and out.

Before coming to Paris, she had read A Moveable Feast by Ernest Hemingway, who lived here in the 1920s and wrote in the cafés. Her friend Bill had hated the book, in which Hemingway wrote terrible things about people who were nice to him in Paris but had the poor timing to die before he did. Bill was afraid she would start stringing all her sentences together with and too, but it was Paris in the warm summer, and she did not care what Bill said. He had gone to the American Library without her and would stay carefully away all morning to let her write.

She had chosen her café after some deliberation. It was a clean, well-lighted place on the Avenue du Général-Leclerc, near where Hemingway had penned his short stories at the Closerie des Lilas, where F. Scott Fitzgerald had written at the Dôme, and where stacks of other authors had written at the Deux Magots.

All the writers had horrid cheap flats—that’s why they went to cafés. The American and her friend had a cheap flat too, owned by a depressed Frenchwoman named Marie-Claude, who nailed all the shutters closed, turned off the gas, took the TV, and told a friend to rent it if he could.

So conditions were perfect to nudge the American with the very overdue novel and the tiny, dark flat into the cafés, where, she thought, if she sat where Hemingway sat and drank what he drank (though it seemed a tad early for a rum Saint James), she might write a novel too.

She would sip the good Parisian coffee and watch the French hurry to the Métro to work, and write about the way the ladybugs had swarmed on the bush in the sea-damped hollows of Lagunitas when she was eight and afraid of her father.

“Write one true sentence,” Hemingway said, and the American thought, then wrote, “I hate that kind of advice.”

She liked better what Steinbeck said: “Don’t start by trying to make the book chronological. Just take a period. Then try to remember it so clearly that you can see things: what colors and how warm or cold and how you got there. Then try to remember people. And then just tell what happened. It is important to tell what people looked like, how they walked, what they wore, what they ate.”

Next to her an elegant young couple were chatting and smoking. The French know that smoking is bad for you, but they don’t care. The American, temporarily at a standstill with the ladybugs, wrote down everything they were wearing, her shiny black flats and his pink tie, and everything they ate and drank. Then she nibbled the end of her pen.

After a while the American put away her yellow pad. She was tired and sad and happy, as she always was after trying to write, and though she felt she had done some very bad writing indeed, she would not know how bad until she read it over the next day.

She sipped her cold coffee and looked around. Mozart and jazz played softly in the background, and a good cup of coffee cost four francs, and they left you alone, not even coming to wipe the table, but maybe it was not the right place for inspiration to come. She frowned. What was wrong?

It was pleasant. It was clean. It was in the heart of Montparnasse. It was McDonald’s.

The Art of Eating
One of my favorite food magazines is the Art of Eating, an excellent, critical, superbly written quarterly newsletter by Edward Behr. It’s been referred to as “the must-have foodie quarterly” by National Public Radio, and by me as one of the best publications of any kind, ever. I can’t resist sharing some other accolades it has received: “A publication of great class and pedigree. It is worth every dollar” (World Class Wines); “He could care less about cover notes, entertaining his readers, or providing vicarious thrills to make them renew. If you want an in-depth look, it’s one-of-a-kind stuff. He’s not pandering to anybody but [only to] his own curiosity” (Chris Kimball, quoted in the Boston Globe); and “I’m a devoted reader” (Corby Kummer, Atlantic Monthly).
Behr founded the quarterly in 1986, and although it’s not exclusively about France, over the years Behr has devoted several issues to various aspects of French food and restaurants, each of them worth the effort to special order. All of these below are still available for purchase, and don’t let the fact that some of them are more than a decade old deter you: this is top-notch food writing and is still very much relevant.
Paris (Again) (Number 60, Winter 2002) features a fantastic and interesting annotated address book that covers Paris and examines French food, land, culture, the parable of the sauce spoon, the advantages of fashion, bread, charcuterie, cheese, chocolate, kitchen tools, meat, open-air markets, pastry, restaurants formal and informal, spices, and wine—with an in-depth look at croissants.
In Paris (or What is French Food?), Part I: Posing the Question and the Classic Parisian Baguette (Number 45, Winter 1998), Behr asks, “What today remains distinctly French about the food in Paris?” and he embarks on a search for real French bread. Part II: More Answers and Places that Are Truly French (Number 46, Spring 1998) offers recommendations for some good food-related addresses in Paris and poses a final question: “How long will French food last?”
Check out the Art of Eating Web site (artofeating.com) to learn more about interesting topics such as dark chocolate in Paris, new Paris bistros, wines of the Loire and of Anjou, Champagne, and foie gras, and more. A subscription is the best way to regularly get the magazine, but copies are sold at some retail stores, such as Whole Foods and Kitchen Arts & Letters.
“If you’re an oyster eater, the first thing to do is head for Huîtrerie Régis. It’s at 3 rue Montfaucon in the sixth arrondissement, a short walk from the Mabillon Métro station. Paris is filled with restaurants and cafés selling oysters, but this one is special. It’s tiny, decorated in all white, and dead serious: the minimum order allowed is a dozen oysters per person. Whether you walk in the door liking oysters or loving them, you will walk out feeling like you understand them. They’re impeccable here, fat and shiny with a flavor that rings in your mouth like a bell.
“After you eat your oysters, if it’s nice outside, take a walk. I love the smell of Paris, and walking is the best way to catch it. It changes from season to season, but it’s particularly fine in late spring, before the heat comes, when the air is light and quick. The city smells then like a mix of croissants in mid-bake, car exhaust, new grass, and roses, the ones waiting on the sidewalk outside every flower shop. It’s not a perfect smell, and sometimes it’s not even a good smell, but it’s resolutely Paris. It’s the first thing I notice when I arrive and the thing I miss the most when I leave.”
—Molly Wizenberg, food writer, author of A Homemade Life, columnist for Bon Appétit, and co-owner of the restaurant Delancey, in Seattle
David Lebovitz
As mentioned earlier, David Lebovitz’s award-winning blog (davidlebovitz.com) is a great resource for travelers to Paris, especially those with culinary interests. Lebovitz is a former pastry chef at Chez Panisse in Berkeley and the author of The Great Book of Chocolate (2004), The Perfect Scoop (2007), and Ready for Dessert (2010), all published by Ten Speed Press, and The Sweet Life in Paris (Broadway, 2009). His blog includes listings for his favorite places to eat in Paris as well as his favorite dining and travel guides; even better, he offers some excellent essays that I highly recommend (type these into the search feature): “10 Common Ordering Mistakes People Make in Paris,” “10 Insanely Delicious Things You Shouldn’t Miss in Paris,” “Tipping in France and Paris,” “Romantic Restaurants in Paris,” “Where Is the Best Duck Confit in Paris?” and “Tips for Vegetarian Dining in Paris.” Lebovitz also conducts chocolate and gastronomy tours in Paris, which sell out immediately (or so it seems). I wish he offered these more frequently; if you’ve been fortunate enough to secure a reservation, I’m sure you’ll agree!

Counter Culture
The Success of Breaking the Rules

NAOMI BARRY

NAOMI BARRY WAS Gourmet’s first resident correspondent in Paris, and in Remembrance of Things Paris, Ruth Reichl opines that Barry “may be the most underappreciated restaurant writer of all time.” Reichl continues by saying, “Reading fifty-year-old restaurant reviews would not normally be much fun; it takes a writer of extraordinary abilities to make you care about meals that you will never be able to eat. But with each review Barry offers up such a rich slice of life that you feel you are sitting at the next table, eavesdropping on your neighbors chatting with the chef.”
I completely agree with Reichl’s remarks, and I feel I am one of the luckiest people on the planet to know Barry, who still lives in Paris, in the seventh arrondissement. She has kindly invited me to her beautiful apartment on two occasions—once with my daughter, Alyssa, and once with my friend Amy—and good food, laughter, and great conversation were in abundance each time.
Barry wrote the piece below for the newsletter of the Chef Culinary Network, which provides legal support and business development services for entrepreneurial chefs, top restaurants, and luxury hotels in the gourmet culinary market. The restaurant she reviews here, L’Atelier de Joël Robuchon (5 rue de Montalembert, 7ème / +33 01 42 22 56 56 / joel-robuchon.net), has been described by the Louis Vuitton City Guide as “an experience you must not miss.… Absolutely everything is excellent and exquisitely refined.”

 AFTER EIGHT YEARS, Joël Robuchon’s trailblazing l’Atelier is still the most sought-after restaurant in Paris. There have to be reasons why. In 2003 Robuchon’s return from retirement was awaited with the interest of Mlle Chanel’s return from retirement two decades before. Curiosity was intense but the buzz was mostly negative.

“He won’t last two months” was the prediction.

One day in August, feeling lonesome because all my friends were out of town, I decided to treat myself to lunch at l’Atelier, which operates full steam seven days a week, twelve months a year. Incredible, in a town where vacation is sacred.

Paris in August is wonderful or awful. Business is down to a flutter. Butcher, baker, and most of the neighborhood restaurants are en vacances until September. In the shuttered, quasi-abandoned city, l’Atelier was blessedly open and full as usual: hep visitors from half the world and the odd Parisian in town for one reason or another. The atmosphere was a relaxed We Happy Few. The place was packed.

“Amazing,” I said to Éric Lecerf, one of the chef-partners who was at the helm that day. “I thought nobody was in Paris. What is your secret formula?”

“Our figures are 15 percent higher than this time last year. In fact our figures have been going up steadily since the beginning. Before we opened we were nervous. It was a risk. We had staked our entire savings and our future on this radical concept.” Lecerf sounded gratefully surprised.

The success of the pioneer team has led to the string of Ateliers Robuchon has since opened on three continents.

Philippe Braun, Robuchon’s trusted lieutenant, leaves Paris from time to time to analyze and to control the details of each new Robuchon property. After we spoke he would soon be off to Taipei for a final look at the latest in the group.

Under the Robuchon umbrella, the Paris Atelier is a working partnership of four members of the brigade at Robuchon’s former restaurant, Jamin. The quartet—Philippe Braun, Éric Lecerf, Éric Bouchenoir, Antonio Hernandes—had earned its stripes. Working at Jamin had been tough as a marine boot camp. At l’Atelier, one of them is always on active service, ensuring there is never a lapse in performance. The customer does not detect it, but the discipline is almost military. These days the group has added another chef to its galaxy, the talented, rosy-cheeked young Axel Manes.

Today the public has accepted everything that the gloom-and-doom prophets of 2003 had predicted they would never accept.

 
  1. You still can’t walk into l’Atelier unless someone opens the door for you from the inside, a technique reminiscent of Manhattan’s speakeasy era.
  2. No reservations. The howl was so great the house compromised. You can now reserve for the eleven-thirty a.m. lunch service and the six-thirty p.m. supper service. Otherwise you have to take your chances. Let’s face it. Being a regular does help, whenever there is a possibility.
  3. Whether you are feeble or fat, you have no choice but to perch on a high stool (there are forty-one of them), elbows on the counter. There are no tables.

More people than not accept the game plan. The quality of the food has won out. Every plate placed before you on the counter is a summit of haute gastronomie.

“We have the products,” said Philippe in partial explanation of what is so special about this particular Atelier. “France has everything, if we look for it.”

Baby lamb chops from a breed discovered in the Pyrénées are an exquisite staple on the Paris bill of fare. They are unlike any I have ever tasted … tender and subtly flavored with thyme from mountain meadows: the tiny chops are dainty enough for a party hosted by Alice in Wonderland.

“Part of our secret lies with our network of suppliers,” said Éric Lecerf. “Over the years I have built a list of over two hundred. In the morning I can phone a fisherman on the coast and ask for fifty sea perch. That evening I will have my fifty sea perch, fresh from the sea. Our customers know that never do we serve a fish that has been farm raised.”

Guests and staff, face-to-face on either side of a counter, have undergone an altered humanized relationship. The waiter is no longer an anonymous servitor but a key figure in the ritual between kitchen and client. The waiters, an exceptionally appealing bunch, admit to loving the chance for brief conversation with the customers. You may not notice that surreptitiously everyone is giving a wipe and a polish. The high maintenance is part of the rigorous discipline.

In a limited way, the Paris Atelier tries to emulate the ethic of the traditional Japanese inn, the ryokan, which aims to satisfy the desire of the guest before the guest has had the chance to even voice his desire.

Recently a waitress overheard a trio of regulars discussing the imminent birthday plans of one of their number. She alerted the pastry kitchen. At the meal’s end a surprise birthday cake was presented before the trio.

Clients, thawed by the affable atmosphere, frequently chat with the strangers sitting next to them. “A couple of nights later,” said Éric, “I’ve seen these same strangers back again together—this time as friends.”

French fries are an icon of France. Some frites are good, some are better, some are terrible. The very very best have a maximum of crusty exterior. L’Atelier wanted to produce a superlative French fry to serve with its steak tartare.

The solution turned up in the drawer of a farmhouse kitchen cabinet in Poitou. Someone remembered the purpose of the housewifely gadget of corrugated tin, which resembled a toy-size Pipes of Pan.

“I saw my grandmother use one,” he said. “She would press it into the sides of a large potato. The potato became a mass of spirals, doubling the surface of a conventional French fry.”

The naive kitchen aid probably sold for next to nothing during the thirties. Armed with the prototype, the Atelier team located an artisan willing to reproduce it by hand.

“We need ten of them,” said Philippe. “The gadgets cost us one hundred euros each. More than one thousand euros for a few platters of pommes frites as we like them.”

You have to be crazy.

“We’re crazy,” said Philippe with an irresistible smile.

Simplicity at l’Atelier in Paris is the simplicity of Marie Antoinette playing elegant milkmaid at Versailles. The luxury is still there but stripped of its more elaborate trappings. The charm is in the paradox.

My lunch at l’Atelier was a jolly affair. I had a giant prawn clasped in a delicate, paper-thin crust presented like a jewel on a rectangular plate of artistically troubled glass, accompanied by a small pool of emerald-green basil sauce. There were three of the irresistible baby lamb chops and a little iron pot of Robuchon’s signature mashed potatoes.

I talked with a pair of chocolatiers from Belgium on my left and a couple from Ireland on my right. The Belgians offered me a glass of Champagne. Giovanni, the sommelier who looks as if he stepped out of a painting by Veronese, filled it half again. I couldn’t have had a better time.

NOTES ON EATING OUT

In North America, we don’t have very strict definitions for places to eat—besides specific categories like diners, drive-ins, fast-food places, and seafood shacks, every eating establishment is really a restaurant, whether modest or elaborate. The restaurant may specialize in a single type of cuisine or feature a variety of foods, but the name of a place doesn’t always indicate how expensive it is or what diners will find there. In France, there is a basic understanding of what diners can expect whether at a café, brasserie, salon de thé, bar à vin, and so forth, and visitors who don’t already know these differences may find them very helpful, not only for the price ranges but for the types of food on offer. Here’s a brief list of what you’ll find in Paris:

Bar à vin: Wine bars are numerous in Paris, and I love them. For me, they are almost always where I prefer to eat because I can try many great wines by the glass that I can’t afford by the bottle and eat light fare chosen specifically to pair well with the wine. Most wine bars are casual, though a few offer actual meals, and are generally inexpensive to moderately priced.

Bistro: Traditionally un bistro is a small, casual restaurant that’s family owned and operated. The menu selections change daily, though only a few dishes are offered, and wine comes in one red and one white variety, usually by the carafe. Prices tend to be modest. However, note that other bistros are quite fancy establishments, with prices to match.

Boulangerie: Though of course a boulangerie stocks bread, many also bake savory items filled with cheese, herbs, olives, slices of ham, or pâté that are terrific for eating en plein air (outdoors), so don’t overlook a boulangerie—or a pâtisserie for that matter. Though known primarily for desserts, pâtisseries often also bake savory items that are easily transported to a picnic blanket or park bench.

Brasserie: The word brasserie derives from brasseur (brewer), so you can be sure beer will be on the menu. It’s typically offered as une pression (on tap) or un demi (about a third of a liter), but you may also find un formidable, a very large glass like those served at the Hofbräuhaus in Munich. Most Parisian brasseries also serve specialties from the region of Alsace, which means you’ll find lots of sausages, wursts, sauerkraut, and delicious Alsatian white wine.

Café: Daniel Young, in The Paris Café Cookbook, defines a café as “any establishment where you can stop in for nothing more than a beverage and stay for as long as you like.” This is why both a bistro and a brasserie may also be considered cafés. It is worth repeating that you can order nothing more than a coffee or a glass of beer or wine and sit at a café for many hours and no one will hurry you along. (Though your waiter may ask you to settle the bill if he or she is going off duty.) Light fare, such as sandwiches, omelettes, salads, and baked goods in the morning, is what to generally expect at a café.

Charcuterie: Like a boulangerie, fromagerie (cheese shop), or pâtisserie, a charcuterie—which offers prepared foods—is good to remember for putting together a pique-nique or any meal on the go. A typical charcuterie might have an assortment of cooked hams, sausages, duck confit, and pâté as well as breads, cheeses, smoked fish, quiche, pizza, salads, and terrines. Most everything may be eaten at room temperature, or you can ask them to heat it up.

Restaurant: Though a bistro can sometimes be a restaurant, and a good restaurant can be inexpensive, generally un restaurant is a fancier establishment with a printed menu (as opposed to one handwritten on a chalkboard) and usually costs more. Some Parisian restaurants specialize in seafood or vegetarian cuisine, or the cooking from a particular region of France, or simply a style that is creative and contemporary.

Salon de thé: Tea salons in Paris bear only a slight resemblance to those in England. As Patricia Wells has noted: “Parisians don’t fool around with frail cucumber sandwiches and dry currant buns—they get right to the heart of the matter, dessert.” A few lunch or dinner selections may be offered at tea salons, but they are light, and may not be nearly as good as the sweet selections.

And some tips to remember:

* At many cafés and casual places to eat, the price for food and drink is different depending on where you sit. If you stand at the bar (known as a comptoir or zinc) the price is cheaper than if you sit in the salle (dining room), which is cheaper than à la terrasse, the prime people-watching spot outside on a sidewalk, garden, or place.

* Haute cuisine is, to my mind, not simply a dining experience; it’s nothing less than an elaborate stage production of the highest caliber. True, it’s very expensive, but properly executed, the experience is sublime and unforgettable—and worth every euro. Ruth Reichl, during her tenure as restaurant critic for the New York Times, frequently reminded readers to keep several points in mind when considering the price of fine dining in France: haute cuisine is extremely labor intensive and requires enormously expensive ingredients; you never have to wait for a table in France because you effectively “buy” a table for the afternoon or evening; economically speaking, French restaurants are completely different from American restaurants, which concentrate on turning as many tables as possible during mealtimes; and prices on French menus include tax and tip, both of which add up to a hefty sum for a nice meal.

* In October 1998, Wine Spectator devoted one entire issue to Paris, and though this was some time ago, I still think the edition included some of the best advice for Americans dining in France today. It remains true that Americans are welcome at the great restaurants of France—as long as they are small in number. The writer explained, “The maître d’ at one three-star restaurant told me, ‘When an American calls, I put him on the waiting list until I see how the reservations are balanced. The French don’t like to eat in a dining room full of Americans, and neither do the Americans.’ ” Americans are often seated at the worst tables, and as many of us are unlikely to return to a particular gastronomic temple and it’s presumed we don’t know much about food, we remain low on many restaurants’ priority list. It helps to know all this, but as the writer reminds us, “Don’t be intimidated; remember who’s paying the bill.”

* If you’re not comfortable making a restaurant reservation by telephone, why not stop in and do it in person? This way, you will be certain that the details are all correct, you’ll have the opportunity to see the restaurant and take a look at the menu, and you’ll establish an early relationship with the staff.

* Odd as it may seem to our capitalist sensibility, many restaurants in Paris, including some high temples of gastronomy, are closed on Saturday for lunch and/or dinner and on Sunday. Be sure to plan accordingly if there is a particular restaurant you have your heart set on visiting. Note, also, that many eating establishments of any type are closed for part or all of August.

* Under the category of “knew it but forgot” is tipping: nearly every bill you receive anywhere in France at any type of eating establishment will include the tip, which is indicated by the words service compris. If you feel you have received exceptional service and you want to tip extra, it is customary to leave no more than a few euros, or 5 percent of the bill’s total. At bars, cafés, and elsewhere, it is also customary to round up your bill to the next euro. Note that if you are paying with a credit card, usually the bill will be brought to you with the total already filled in with no opportunity to leave a tip. If you must put the tip on your card, tell your waiter in advance that you’d like to add a tip to the total, but otherwise just leave the tip in cash. (I once had to leave a wine bar, search for an ATM, and return with the tip, which I felt was necessary because the waiter had really been terrific. The beam on his face when I returned was worth the twenty minutes it took to retrieve the cash.)

* As noted in the introduction, mealtimes in France—whether at restaurants or in food shops—are generally well established and adhered to, even in Paris. Other than at cafés and brasseries, which typically serve food and drink continuously, by two in the afternoon lunch service is over and patrons will not be admitted (or if they are, there won’t be much food left to offer). This is easy enough to grasp, but less clear is when lunchtime officially begins. Mark Greenside, in I’ll Never Be French (No Matter What I Do), recounts the following: “At 12:00 virtually every French person not serving food in Gare Montparnasse stops whatever he or she is doing and starts to eat. By 12:05 not a single chair, table, bench, or horizontal surface is empty. There are lines—actually wedges, the French don’t make lines—thirty and forty people deep waiting to buy a sandwich or a Coke or their ubiquitous bottle of water.… At 11:55 we could have sat anywhere and bought anything. By 12:05 there’s no place to go. I haven’t seen anything like it since the piranha tank at the Brooklyn Aquarium.” This is not unique to France—I’ve had very similar and more stark experiences in Greece, for example—but is nonetheless worth noting.

A Passion for Pâtisseries
When I was a student, I established a Sunday routine that I loved: go to the Louvre at opening time (it was free on Sundays), stay for about three hours, and go to a pâtisserie, preferably a different one each week. As I couldn’t afford to eat both lunch and dessert, on Sundays I would eschew lunch for the full pâtisserie experience, which for me was a café crème and a treat (or sometimes two) of my choice. My only rule was that I couldn’t repeat the treat I ordered for at least one month, which ensured I would try all the pâtisserie classics: Paris-Brest, religieuses, macarons, croissants, brioches, profiteroles, financiers, éclairs, kugelhopf, Napoléons, etc. (I felt it was important that I be familiar with the classics, since at that time the only French pastries I’d ever heard of, or eaten, were éclairs, which of course everyone back home pronounced with a long e.) I often think longingly of this Sunday tradition, and though at my age now I’m no longer able to enjoy pâtisserie treats so frequently, I usually try to sample a pâtisserie a day when I visit Paris—by eating sensibly, this is really not a weight-gaining indulgence.
The pastries at even the most humble pâtisseries in Paris are an art. Even if you use your waistline as an excuse not to indulge at all (such a shame, I say), at least admire the pastry creations in the windows. And don’t forget that most of these pâtisseries all have beautifully packaged treats that make great gifts (just be careful what you choose in the hot summer months). I find many pâtisseries to be truly intoxicating, and I am equally fond of legendary places and less exalted pastry shops. I seek these out and incorporate them into my daily itineraries the same way I plan visits to restaurants and cafés. You’ll make your own discoveries, of course, but for a good selection of memorable pâtisseries in one source, I think the best book is Paris Pâtisseries: History, Shops, Recipes (Flammarion, 2010)—I use the word “best” because, as the editor notes, “in this book we only show the best, the truly exceptional.” And so you’ll find Pâtisserie Stohrer, Pain du Sucre, Fauchon, Ladurée, Gérard Mulot, Lenôtre, Laurent Duchêne, Dalloyau, Du Pain et des Idées, Blé Sucré, Pierre Hermé, and others. The book includes the history of each bakery, up-close photographs of some desserts that give the word “mouthwatering” new meaning, and the pâtisseries’ specialties, ranging from classics to newfangled favorites destined to become classics; plus there are twenty-five recipes and other favorite addresses. “The stories conveyed by desserts,” the editor notes, “are stories of nostalgic affection that become part of family lore.… Parisians are always ready to cross the city from one end to the other to fetch the cake whose mere mention makes their mouths water.”
I have completely filled a little notebook I’ve dutifully kept for many years with my notes from all of the pâtisseries I’ve ever visited in Paris. As you might imagine, it’s quite extensive, and sharing all the lengthy descriptions with you here is not my intent. I have too much difficulty paring down my list of favorite pâtisseries to only a few, so instead, I will share only two that are rather new to Paris. I’m really excited about them and they are completely different from the city’s classic, Old World pâtisseries (but by coincidence happen to be in the same arrondissement).
Photo Credit 26.1
Pâtisserie des Rêves (93 rue du Bac, 7ème, and 111 rue de Longchamp, 16ème / lapatisseriedesreves.com). Chef and cookbook author Philippe Conticini, who was also chef de cuisine at Petrossian in New York, is the créateur behind this bakery, which is definitely the stuff of rêves—dreams. This is a far cry from a homespun bake shop; it’s beyond sophisticated, hip and bright. Though plenty of classic pastries are on offer, it’s the ré-créations and gâteaux de saison that are really eye-popping. The créations gourmandes are featured under glass domes—I like to refer to them as cloches (bells)—on a two-tiered circular display table in the center of the boutique, and when you want one a staff member brings you a fresh one from the kitchen in the back. In addition, there are nicely packaged tins of nuts, cocoa, and brown sugar, as well as a wonderful boxed set of gorgeous paperback recipe books—they all make great gifts.
Hugo & Victor (40 boulevard Raspail, 7ème / hugovictor.com). Hugues Pouget, who worked as pastry chef for Guy Savoy for six years and was honored as Champion of Desserts of France in 2003, is the founder of this extraordinary shop, along with his partner, Sylvain Blanc. Though descriptions of pâtisseries often characterize the treats as rare gems in a jewelry store, nowhere is this more true than here at Hugo & Victor. Everything is too dazzling to eat! But eat you must from this cabinet de curiosités sucrées (cabinet of sweet curiosities), and I really don’t believe anything would be a disappointment. I am partial to the pétales de pamplemousse tart (grapefruit) and le bonbon chocolat demi-sphère, but I still have ten flavors of macarons to try, fourteen chocolates, and some wonderful concoctions that look like colored shards of glass called “the five seasons of Hugo & Victor.” When asked in an interview if he would share a pastry-making trick, Pouget replied, “Use sugar as seasoning rather than ingredient, as you do with salt. In my pastries, there is on average 5 percent sugar rather than the usual 15 percent.” Asked if he considered creating pastries an art form, he replied, “Oui. When creating a pastry you think about the flavor combinations, color, texture, volume; there is a feeling, an emotion, and a creation”—all of which is on lavish display when you walk into Hugo & Victor.
A Few of My Favorites
Here are some places to eat a meal or a snack that I have particularly enjoyed in recent years—but it is by no means a complete list of every place I’ve enjoyed eating at in Paris. The establishments that appear below have been among my favorites for the past five years.
* Au 35 (35 rue Jacob, 6ème / +33 01 42 60 23 24). Au 35 is a small—only about a dozen tables, plus a few upstairs reached by a narrow staircase—neighborhood place that turns out very good, uncomplicated dishes seven days a week for satisfied diners, who happen to be mostly locals. Daily choices are limited, but they’re seasonal and prepared with care; the staff members are very gentil and full of smiles.
* Berthillon (31 rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île / +33 01 43 54 31 61 / berthillon.fr). Founded in 1954, this legendary glacier (ice cream shop) on the Île Saint-Louis is noteworthy for its luscious, truly memorable flavors, as well as for the long lines of people waiting to order—the wait is worth it—and for the fact that it’s closed for the month of August (and on Mondays and Tuesdays as well). Plan accordingly!
* Bistrot Melac (42 rue Léon-Frot, 11ème / +33 01 43 70 59 27 / melac.fr). Named after the owner, Jacques Melac, this wine bar is a favorite of many locals and tourists and is “a place where people can meet, eat, and drink wine.” Indeed, a sign hanging from the ceiling notes, “L’eau est ici reservée pour faire cuire les pommes de terre” (The water here is reserved for cooking potatoes). Melac is from the Aveyron and most of the food served here is from that region, while most of the wines poured are little-known varieties from Languedoc and the Loire. It’s hard not to make new friends here as most of the tables are communal style.
* Cafés Verlet (256 rue Saint-Honoré, 1er / +33 01 42 60 67 39 / cafesverlet.com). The Verlet is good to know about for purchasing excellent coffee beans, loose tea, candied fruit, cakes, confiture, peppercorns, vanilla, and more, but sitting down and enjoying a cup or something to eat is a great pleasure. Verlet was founded in 1880, and in 1995 Éric Duchossoy purchased the business from Pierre Verlet, grandson of the founder. In an interview, Duchossoy noted, “You should know I was born in a coffee bean,” referring to the fact that his father and grandfather were in the coffee-roasting business, and his father still roasts at the family business in Le Havre. Duchossoy travels frequently and meets the farmers who supply the company’s beans. At Verlet there are four house blends and twenty single-origin coffees—all of which are roasted fresh daily—as well as nearly fifty different kinds of tea. My friend Lorraine and I enjoyed cups of cappuccino here that were outstanding, served in beautiful olive-green stoneware mugs on leaf-shaped saucers and with a little square of Paul Hévin chocolate on the side. Whether you sit downstairs or upstairs, the café is cozy and filled with lots of Parisians. And though it’s on a chic street, the prices are quite reasonable.
  
  
* Ladurée (21 rue Bonaparte, 6ème / +33 01 44 07 64 87 / laduree.fr). There is no question that the older Ladurée outposts in the eighth arrondissement (16 rue Royale and 75 avenue des Champs-Élysées) are more grand and more beautiful than the smaller boutique in the sixth, but I prefer it, both for its smaller scale and for the fact that the neighborhood doesn’t have any other place quite like it. After some serious retail activity at the enticing shops on rue Bonaparte near the cross street rue Jacob, it is nice to know you can relax in Ladurée’s pretty tea salon. My favorite items to buy in the shop are the guimauves (marshmallows), cocoa powder in that distinctive pale green and gold tin, and jars of caramel au beurre salé, which usually ends up being consumed with a spoon right out of the jar.
* L’Absinthe (24 place du Marché Saint-Honoré, 1er / +33 01 49 26 90 04 / restaurantabsinthe.com). This modern French bistro has a great, animated atmosphere and really good food to match. The kitchen is under the direction of Caroline Rostang, daughter of noted chef Michel, and dishes are solidly classic but with some updated, not to say wildly creative, touches. The upstairs room is a little quieter than downstairs, and in warm weather tables spill out onto the place. The wine list is good and, yes, there are a number of absinthe options on the menu.
* L’As du Fallafel (34 rue des Rosiers, 4ème / +33 01 48 87 63 60). I’ve eaten and cooked my fair share of falafel, so I can say with some authority that the falafel here is truly “ace,” as its name purports. Many people have told me that the best falafel in the world is found in Israel, but as I haven’t been there yet to investigate the claim, I just tell everyone who will listen that the best falafel is here in Paris. It is truly a gastronomic delight that puts any other falafel you’ve ever had to shame. Clotilde Dusoulier, in Edible Adventures in Paris, advises that if the line is too long at L’As, head down the street to Mi-Va-Mi, at 23 rue des Rosiers, for a falafel she describes as “just as good as that of their celebrity neighbor.” Duly noted!
* Le Grand Véfour (17 rue de Beaujolais, 1er / +33 01 42 96 56 27 / grand-vefour.com). This beautiful, beautiful restaurant, set in the arcades of the Palais Royal, opened as the Café de Chartres in 1784 and was bought by one Jean Véfour in 1820. Guests have been illustrious: Napoléon and Joséphine, Voltaire, Dumas, Fragonard, and Simone de Beauvoir and Jean-Paul Sartre, to name a few. The restaurant was closed from 1905 to 1947; after the liberation of Paris it was bought by the owner of Maxim’s and reopened in 1948 under the direction of chef Raymond Oliver (Jean Cocteau designed the reopening menu). Today Le Grand Véfour is a Michelin-starred establishment, a member of the Relais & Chateaux group, and owned by the Taittinger Champagne family. The chef is Guy Martin, also the author of a number of cookbooks, and though some say the food lacks sparkle, the lunch I had there with my friends Amy and Arlene was very, very good. (My only complaint was the exorbitant price for glasses of Taittinger, which we were not informed of in advance!) The three and a half hours I spent there were among the most memorable I’ve ever had in Paris.
* Le Pré aux Clercs (30 rue Bonaparte, 6ème / +33 01 43 54 41 73). This is the kind of neighborhood place, with consistently good but not amazing food, that has long been common in France but not so in the States. On my last visit I went three times. The owner, who seems to know a great number of his patrons—he gives nearly everyone who enters two kisses and a hug—is incredibly friendly and welcoming, and the staff is equally friendly and efficient. The overall vibe of the place is one of great conviviality, with eclectic and appealing music playing.
* Le Train Bleu (20 boulevard Diderot, Gare de Lyon, 12ème / +33 01 43 43 03 06 / le-train-bleu.com). Listed as a national historical monument in 1972 after its restoration in 1968, this special restaurant was created by the Paris-Lyon-Mediterranée Company and opened in 1900 on the occasion of the Exposition Universelle in Paris. Originally called the Buffet de la Gare de Lyon, it was renamed Le Train Bleu in 1963 as a tribute to the legendary train service from Paris to the south. The reason to come here is really not for the food, which is average, but for one of the most atmospheric dining spaces in the world. The forty-one paintings which cover all the walls and ceilings feature the sunny Provençal and Côte d’Azur destinations of the original train bleu, as well as some of the Alps. On my short list of goals in life is to have dinner at Le Train Bleu and then stroll down to the tracks to board a night train for Menton. I just know it will be splendid.
* Paul chain of bakeries (approximately forty locations in Paris / paul.fr). Founded in Lille by a family of bakers dating back four generations to 1889, Paul celebrated its 120th anniversary in 2009. In 1958, after his father passed away, Francis Holder and his mother took over the family bakery and expanded it. Today there are 360 outlets in France alone and some in numerous other countries (in the United States, there are a handful of bakeries, only in Florida). Such growth doesn’t normally appeal to me, but what I like about Paul is that I can get a nice salad, better than decent bread, and a glass of wine for a reasonable price within a short period of time and be on my way. I’m not positive I would frequent Paul if it were in New York, but the truth is, this chain is far better than any American food chain. I’d welcome it here, and I like knowing it’s an option when I’m in France.
* Willi’s Wine Bar (13 rue des Petits-Champs, 1er / +33 01 42 61 05 09 / williswinebar.com). I will always have a warm spot in my heart reserved for Willi’s, named after William Foster Simpson Browning III, the basset hound of owner Mark Williamson (the much-loved dog passed away in the mid-eighties). Williamson specializes in Côtes-du-Rhône wines, which are paired with a great range of dishes small and large—I’ve really enjoyed everything I’ve eaten here. There are tables in the back, but I prefer the seats at the long bar in front, which is where I had my special Willi’s moment: On a fall day in 1995 I was the only person at the bar at about five p.m., so I had the privilege of talking to the bartender with no distractions and could listen in on his conversations with other staff members. There was a lot of anxious chatter because it was Williamson’s birthday (or maybe it was his partner’s; my memory of this detail isn’t entirely clear, but it doesn’t really matter). The staff had arranged for T-shirts to be imprinted marking the occasion, and I was shown one and asked for my opinion (it was great!). Everything about the birthday was a surprise, so there was lots of whispering and numerous calls placed between Willi’s and nearby Juvéniles (47 rue de Richelieu), owned at the time by Williamson and then-partner Tim Johnston (and still a good place for tapas and wine). I had this insider’s view for only about an hour and a half, because by that time the seats at the bar started to fill up. I had to leave, but the staff members sent me on my way with a warm farewell and hugs all around. Willi’s never disappoints, and its limited-edition posters make fine souvenirs. Note: Macéo (15 rue des Petits-Champs) is Williamson’s other venture, a contemporary restaurant named after saxophonist Maceo Parker, which I also very much like.
* Ziryab (on the top floor of L’Institut du Monde Arabe, 1 rue des Fossés-Saint-Bernard, 5ème / +33 01 53 10 10 20). I’ve never actually eaten a meal at Ziryab, which specializes in mostly Lebanese cuisine that I hear is quite good. But I have sipped delicious thé a la menthe on the outdoor terrace, where I looked out at the fabulous view and felt I was in one of the best spots on earth.
French Restaurant and Food Guides
If you are a real culinary nut, you may like to review a number of sources to find places to eat, drink, and buy provisions. Let me stress that all these guides are fairly subjective, so if you determine you trust a particular author or team of writers, that seems as sure a guide as any to lead you to places that won’t let you down, be it a modest eatery or a Michelin-starred temple. I generally eat and drink well when I’m in France, if not always fabulously. You will, too, by following trusted advice, understanding the difference between the varieties of French eateries (detailed previously), and reading about regional specialties. You’ll also undoubtedly discover some good places on your own that I hope you’ll share with me!
Regarding the well-known Guide Michelin and Pudlo Paris, I like consulting both. (Though there is a Zagat edition devoted to Paris, I am not generally a fan of Zagat, as I feel the descriptions are not thorough enough, and I concur with Art of Eating publisher Edward Behr, who remarked that Zagat “has all the defects of democracy. It’s a poll. It’s like an average. It’s too smoothed out.… I would prefer to hear a little more in-depth from someone with one point of view.”)
The mighty Michelin has battled some criticism over the last few years, and though it may not be as scrupulously unbiased as the staff likes to claim, I think it has emerged relatively unscathed. For me, the best reason to consult the Red Guide (not to be confused with the Green Guides, which are for touring) is for the Bib Gourmand places, which are awarded this accolade for serving very good food at a reasonable price. Peter Mayle has described these places as not very fashionable and rarely eulogized by the guidebooks. “But they have something about them that I—not to mention a few hundred thousand French customers—find irresistible. A very distinct character, the comforting feeling that you and your appetite couldn’t possibly be in better hands.”
Le Guide Pudlo, compiled by Gilles Pudlowski, restaurant critic and journalist for the French weekly newsmagazine Le Point, is very comprehensive and only recently available in English (distributed by Little Bookroom). It’s organized by arrondissement and features not only the grandes tables but also hundreds of recommendations for specialty gourmet shops, bars, cafés, wine bars, and tea salons. Additionally, the Pudlo includes a number of places with the best value for money or best foreign cuisine, and listings for places open on Sundays and others that are open past eleven p.m. Note that there are also separate Pudlo guides for Alsace; Normandy and Brittany; and Provence, Côte d’Azur, and Monaco.
Other guides I frequently consult include:
Authentic Bistros of Paris, François Thomazeau and Sylvain Ageorges (Little Bookroom, 2005). The authors quote some lyrics from the song “Le Bistro” by Georges Brassens: “On a run-down old square / In a poor part of Paris / Some angel took this dive / And made it / A palace.” Each of the fifty-one bistros profiled in this handy little book (about the size of an old Baedeker’s guide) is indeed a palace of sorts. Though it’s true that Parisian bistros are facing possible extinction, there are enough of them left to warm the hearts of locals and visitors alike. The authors’ criteria in making their selections included testing the classic ham sandwich, le jambon-beurre. “It was an arbitrary decision,” they note, “but it turned out to be revelatory. Good bars make a good jambon-beurre. That’s just the way it is. And their beers are the right temperature. And the espresso is neither too hot nor too cold, no matter what time you order it. And the house red is never harsh.” Interestingly, they also discovered that a large number of the establishments featured are or were owned by natives of the Auvergne region. Only a few of these favorite bistros appear in other books, and I had the opportunity a few autumns ago to discover some new places, including the bar in the film Amélie and the Charbon Escalier, the last café-charbon of Paris (charbon is French for coal and signifies that a café is heated by a coal stove and not gas or electricity).
Clotilde’s Edible Adventures in Paris, Clotilde Dusoulier (Broadway, 2008). I echo Nach Waxman and Matt Sartwell’s enthusiasm for this book (see this page), and I will add something else that’s appealing about Clotilde: she is a self-described “enthusiastic list-maker” and keeps lists of books she wants to read, places she wants to visit, stories to write, and projects to tackle. This great read is a window onto Clotilde’s Paris that can be yours, too.
The Food Lover’s Guide to the Gourmet Secrets of Paris, Kate Whiteman (Universe, 2006). Organized by neighborhood in nine chapters, this fully illustrated volume is not only lovely to look at but is great for planning neighborhood itineraries that are filled with lots of culinary stops (plus there are forty recipes). Restaurants, cafés, markets, and specialty shops are noted side by side with each quartier’s landmarks, museums, and sights, making this a great planning guide and souvenir.
Gourmet Paris: What You Want to Eat, Where, Dish by Dish, Emmanuel Rubin (Flammarion, 2002, revised edition). Here’s a guide “for dipping into, buffet style” and it’s quite unlike any other: it’s organized by type of food—andouillette, crème brûlée, foie gras, fondues, game, potatoes, rum baba, snails, and tajines, for example—and offers readers a selection of good places to find these specific foods. Additionally, there are recommendations for places in museums, along the Seine, with a view, or with terraces, as well as good bets for dining solo, in a large group, or with children.
Gourmet Shops of Paris: An Epicurean Tour, Pierre Rival with photographs by Christian Sarramon (Flammarion, 2005). I love this book because it’s organized by chapters entitled “Sweet Paris,” “Savory Paris,” “Paris in a Glass,” and “Paris on the Go,” with both longtime well-known addresses and trendy, but worthwhile, new ones. The photographs are enticing and the six-page “Gourmet’s Notebook”—covering confectionery and chocolates, cakes large and small, ice cream and sorbet, bread and cheese, fine food stores, wine shops (and one for whiskey), and cafés and sandwich shops—is an estimable epicurean guide.
The Historic Restaurants of Paris: A Guide to Century-Old Cafés, Bistros and Gourmet Food Shops, Ellen Williams (Little Bookroom, 2001). Perhaps not surprisingly, Williams notes, “Paris abounds in restaurants and gourmet shops that have been in business for more than a hundred years,” and this is a perfect little guide for seeking out these unique establishments. This is a hardcover volume but is small enough to bring along.
“I think one thing that I appreciate the most when I go to Paris is renting an apartment. You look it up on the Internet and you see pictures of rooms and make all the arrangements, and it’s like walking into a novel—an Anne Tyler novel: What would happen if …?—and suddenly you become Madame Jones on rue Hachette or something like that—you just take on the French life. I like it particularly, of course, because you can do some of your own cooking, and it’s such fun to go to the markets and buy things—it’s not enough just to go and look. You live kind of an enchanted life, and for me it takes me back to the years I lived in Paris, from 1948 to 1951. I had my first job at Doubleday as an assistant editor and I went to Europe for a three-week vacation, to Italy and the Côte d’Azur and then to Paris. After three weeks I just couldn’t bear to come back home, so I got my vacation extended for another three or four weeks. Then literally the day before I was to go home I was sitting in the Tuileries Gardens and I was watching the sun set over the city and it was so beautiful and I thought, ‘What am I doing going home? This is where I belong!’ And then I got up and walked away, leaving my purse hanging on the bench. I’m sure Freud would say this was not an accident. When I got around the corner, I realized that my passport, my passage home, my whole identity was in that purse. And it was all gone. When I went back to my hotel I decided it was an act of fate and I’m supposed to be here. So instead of crying to my mama begging for a ticket home, I stayed in Paris and tried to get a job.
“Eventually I picked various things up—that’s a long story that I tell in my book—and then I met Evan, my future husband, who was there because he started a weekend magazine with Stars and Stripes after the war. These were wonderful years, particularly in the beginning, when the French loved us so. We were their saviors, after all. It was so touching to watch this country still recovering from the war and the occupation … some of the shame, some of the pride, and all of these things. One example I think of was the time I was in a boulangerie and we were all standing in line to get a fresh baguette and a man up front cracked open a baguette and cried out, then passed the loaf all around and people started shouting and clapping. I asked someone what this was all about and he exclaimed, “The flour is white!” To me that just tells you multitudes about the French people, their love of food, their pride in it, the time they will take to make a meal. I’ve seen people wearing carpet slippers buying three times the amount of pâté that I could afford! It just was such a priority in their lives. I must have some French genes hidden in me because I always respond to that. And it’s sensible eating, you know. You eat at least three courses and they’re small amounts, you linger and you spend at least an hour and a half at the table instead of this grab-a-bite-and-run that is the American philosophy.
“So, I sort of feel that my soul, or my tummy, needs that refreshment every year. I try to go to Paris almost every year for a few weeks. I find a little apartment and live a totally different life. A few times I will change the arrondissement I rent in, particularly if someone like Claudia Roden is staying at her apartment in the rue Saint-Dominique and I want to be close by there. Recently I’ve found that the old Saint-Germain district—fun as it is to go and have a drink there—is so touristy. You don’t find the wonderful little shops—the little fromagerie and the little boulangerie—that you do in the more family-oriented neighborhoods, particularly around the area of the rue Cler, where there’s a market on the weekends that I love.”
—Judith Jones, editor to Julia Child, Edna Lewis, Claudia Roden, Penelope Casas, and Marion Cunningham, among others, and author of The Tenth Muse: My Life in Food (Knopf, 2007) and The Pleasures of Cooking for One (Knopf, 2009)
Dorie Greenspan
Cookbook author Dorie Greenspan—whose books include Paris Sweets: Great Desserts from the City’s Best Pastry Shops (Broadway, 2002), Baking: From My Home to Yours (Houghton Mifflin, 2006), Desserts by Pierre Hermé (Little, Brown, 1998), and Around My French Table: More Than 300 Recipes from My Home to Yours (Houghton Mifflin, 2010)—has lived in Paris part-time for over twelve years. She maintains an excellent blog, In the Kitchen and On the Road with Dorie (doriegreenspan.com), which is a worthwhile resource for travelers. Greenspan writes very clearly and passionately and cares deeply about getting the details right.
One memorable post from her is “The Paris Ten: Must-Tastes,” a list of ten iconic foods of Paris, “the tastes a visitor, perhaps a first-timer, shouldn’t miss in the city.” In another post, about Hugues Pouget and the bakery Hugo & Victor (see this page), she writes, “I think I know a little about what makes chefs great. There’s their talent, that’s almost a given; there’s their energy—they’re built with superchargers that aren’t standard equipment among us ordinary mortals; there’s their skill at organization and production (not a glam quality, but a really important one); and there’s their intelligence, a kind of intelligence that includes creativity, but that also includes the ability to express, share, explain that creativity, and, in doing that, inspire and teach others.” Log on and subscribe to Greenspan’s monthly newsletter!

Thanksgiving in Paris
LAURA CHAMARET

CHAMARET WORKS IN book publishing in New York, and I feel fortunate to know her because she’s as crazy for Paris, and France, as I am. But it wasn’t always so: she was smitten with Italy and Spain (she spoke both Italian and Spanish) and had never studied French nor set foot in France. “I never had a care in the world to know anything about France,” she told me, “until the night I went to a bar with my best friend on West Fifty-first Street and I met a French man at the bar, and married him not long after.” Chamaret’s husband, Sébastien, is from a very small town in the département of Mayenne in the Loire Valley next to Normandy, where his family has lived on the same farm for four generations. When he first brought Chamaret there, she related, “It was one of the most foreign cultural experiences of my life. I’m very adaptable—I was born overseas, I’ve lived in a number of different places, and I’m pretty good at adapting to my surroundings—but I’ve never felt so much like a fish out of water. Me, a New York City girl in the middle of nowhere in France where things don’t get done the way they get done here, and Sébastien’s parents don’t speak a word of English. They were so welcoming, so inviting, and just incredibly lovely. Everything we ate was grown or made right there on the farm, from the pâté to the pears and everything in between. The house was simple and clean and it didn’t matter that it hadn’t been redecorated in many, many years—the chairs were the same ones they’d had for fifty years. It was a whole different kind of thing and couldn’t have been further from my life up to that point.”

Laura and Sébastien never had any intention of living in Paris, but on a trip around France to see where they did want to live, they ended up stranded in Paris on September 11, 2001. A good friend offered to stay at his girlfriend’s and gave them his apartment until they could get home, which wasn’t until a week later. “We fell in love with the city,” says Chamaret. “And I’m sure some of that love was due to the situation, our emotions, and how wonderful the Parisians were to us, but we knew we were staying for at least a few years.” And they did. (Though they eventually returned to New York to start a family, they plan to move back to France one day.)

Trips and sojourns in France over the intervening twelve years have led many friends and colleagues to seek the travel advice of the Chamarets. “You have no idea how many people ask my husband and me for advice on what to do when they’re going to France,” Chamaret told me. “I assume that they have read a guidebook or two, and I tell them what my three favorite museums are—the Musée d’Orsay, the Centre Georges Pompidou, and the Orangerie. A lot of people don’t know that at the Pompidou there’s a restaurant with a beautiful terrace on top that has one of the most lovely views of Paris you’ve ever seen—the food’s not great but it’s a great place to go for a drink after you’ve seen the fabulous collection.” But she adds, “No one realizes how much work goes into requests like these, because you have to consider what people hope to get out of their trip, you have to think of what things to recommend for first-time visitors versus those who’re visiting again, you have to know how familiar they are with the language and culture, and you have to create an itinerary—it’s time-consuming and it’s work, which is why the services of a good travel consultant are so valuable!”

LAURA CHAMARET, who is not a writer by profession, won first prize for this piece in a 2006 Food & Wine essay contest entitled Tell Us About Your Most Memorable Thanksgiving. She kindly edited her essay slightly for this book. Her husband, former chef de cuisine at Manhattan’s legendary La Goulue and pastry chef at Orsay, is co-owner, with Adrien Angelvy, of the new restaurant Le Comptoir (251 Grand Street / 718 486 3300 / lecomptoirny.com) in the Williamsburg neighborhood of Brooklyn.

 MY FATHER’S BIRTHDAY always fell near or on Thanksgiving. So while I was growing up, it was considered an important holiday for our family. It was a time that, no matter where my parents or siblings were on the globe, we would reunite at one table and break bread. It was an enjoyable time that gave me a fleeting notion of stability that I longed for.

At the end of my twenties, I still had a globe-trotting lifestyle and in 2002, I moved to Paris with Sébastien, my French boyfriend—now husband. He became a chef at an early age and was the executive chef at Perry Bistro (since closed) in New York City when we met in 1999. We moved to the City of Light so I could learn to speak French fluently. His parents were milk farmers in the countryside and didn’t speak a word of English. If this relationship was going to continue, it was high time I could have a conversation with them. When we made the leap, we didn’t have much money, so we found a one-bedroom apartment in a seventh-floor walk-up. We didn’t care because it had a terrace, and who needs an elevator when you have a terrace to dine on and a view of the rooftops of Paris? It was in the nineteenth arrondissement, in the northeast section of the city by the mystical Canal Saint-Martin.

We made fast friends with people Sébastien knew through the New York restaurant scene. Our friend’s brother Louis didn’t live far from our quartier, and his girlfriend, Virginie, became my best friend. Our network grew and when autumn came I missed the simple yet crucial event of carving a turkey with family—and with my father now gone, my childhood tradition had become a memory. But these people over time had become my family—a strong support so far from home. When I told Virginie how much I longed for Thanksgiving, she was fascinated, and she wanted to know what this holiday was all about. Many Parisians had heard of it and wondered about it, she told me. We should plan our “French Thanksgiving,” she said, and as she’s gregarious, she told all our friends. What began as a dinner for eight turned into a banquet for twenty-eight like wildfire. Some of our friends weren’t French but were, like me, expatriates from other parts of the world who were attracted to Paris and all it had to offer. They, too, had wondered about this Thanksgiving phenomenon.

A week before Thanksgiving, Sébastien informed me we needed to order the turkey from the butcher now. I thought this was absurd. Surely if people were this curious about our holiday, turkeys would be everywhere in anticipation of a stray American in their neighborhood—ethnocentric thinking indeed. As instructed, I went to our butcher—a kind, large, jolly man who we came to know well during our time living on avenue Secrétan. I asked him for a ten- or twelve-kilo dinde and he laughed in my face. Surely I was joking. That would be nearly impossible to find in time for my dinner next week. It’s simply not the time for turkeys, he informed me. Could he get me a goose instead? Then he stopped and remembered vaguely about that American tradition of killing turkeys in the middle of November, and could I explain why we do this? At every turn, I found myself recounting a quick version of American history and how Thanksgiving has transformed into a time for food and family more than anything else. He was happy to go above and beyond and get my dinde. It would be here by Tuesday.

Two days before Thanksgiving, our friends were over for apéritifs and we looked around our 650-square-foot apartment trying to figure out exactly how we were going to fit twenty-eight people for dinner—and at one table, no less. The one table we had could seat six at most. They called themselves into action immediately, determined to make the dinner a success. Louis would bring two extra tables from his parents’ house and folding chairs. We would move the armoire and couch out of the living room and line the table up diagonally through the center of the room to fit everyone together. Lionel would bring at least twenty plates; Virginie would ask Alona and Thérèse to bring extra silverware. We would go out tomorrow morning together to buy cheap wine glasses from the catchall five-and-dime shop down the street. We were all quite thankful that the liquor store was only across the street!

The hard part was getting all the food. The French apartment lifestyle has yet to incorporate a Sub-Zero. Our apartment didn’t come with an oven, either. We only had a large tabletop rotisserie oven in which to make turkey, popovers, and stuffing in. The timing had to be perfect. We had a tiny two-shelf fridge under our counter. Everything that needed to be refrigerated would have to be bought Thursday morning. Thankfully it was a chilly November, because the turkey would have to live on the terrace in the small shed for a while to keep cold. Wednesday was spent prepping vegetables, as well as making pain surprise for the apéritifs and, of course, the pies—two pumpkin and two of grandma’s apple pies.

You might be asking yourself what a pain surprise is. Quite simply, hollow out the bread, make a mix of sandwich flavors, and put them back in! I made salted cucumber with chive crème fraîche, jambon de Serrano with olive tapenade, brandade de morue (a spreadable codfish concoction that is quite delicious), and mousse of duck foie gras with sea salt and fig jam. It’s a surprise because you don’t know what sandwich you will get—a terrible plan for an American party of picky eaters, but the French don’t seem to have that in their blood.

PAIN SURPRISE

Cut off the top of a large round bread loaf, or boule. For this dish, pain de mie is the best bread option.
Cut a circle inside the crust sides and very strategically cut out the bottom to lift out the bread.
Slice those into sandwich-size pieces and make various flavors of small tea sandwiches.

As I prepped away, various people climbed up and down seven flights of stairs with supplies or stuffed our bedroom with the living room furniture to make extra room. They were literally working for their meal. It was grand. Everyone was having a fantastic time and making Thanksgiving possible. It had become a quest.

The morning of Thanksgiving, our fridge decided not to cooperate and the door fell off. I called Sébastien at the restaurant where he worked not knowing what to do, and he assured me that everything would be fine. He got the evening off and would fix it when he returned home. In the meantime, he told me, “Improvise.” Hadn’t I been doing that all along? Well, when you are already dealing with the size of a fridge I had, the challenge was keeping everything cold. To make matters worse, when I took the turkey out of the little porch shed, I knew it wouldn’t be enough meat for the size of our group, so I ran to the butcher and got three turkey roulades—basically, breasts rolled and tied by the butcher. I was panicked because I had no idea how I would fit them into the fridge or the cooking schedule. Things were packed in the fridge as it was (crème fraîche, butter, cheese, herbs, leeks, sausage … to name a few), so my biggest obstacles were keeping everything from spilling out and finding a good place to put the door while I awaited technical assistance!

Timing the cooking order to make this whole thing possible was a multitasking achievement. The morning of our big event, the turkey was the first thing to go in, at about eight-thirty a.m. It would take at least six to seven hours on the highest setting, better known as number 8 on French ovens, to cook. It’s an everyday challenge figuring out the conversion temperatures when you have the American ones in your head. This time, eight was easy! The sausage and chestnut stuffing was the next to cook, taking about an hour and a half to two hours. The potatoes and haricots verts were done on the stove top, lightening up the oven schedule considerably. You may be asking yourself how so many hours were possible before a Thanksgiving meal but it is not a holiday in France, so we weren’t going to sit down much before seven o’clock in the evening. The tough part was toward the late afternoon. You have to make the popovers last (they deflate, and who wants to eat a cold popover?) and I had three turkey roulades to roast. What I ended up doing was roasting them once everyone had arrived. They baked through the cocktail hour(s) and the beginning of dinner. They were meant to serve as seconds to everyone, so the timing was great. Sure enough, everything worked out. I managed to have centerpieces, flowers, candles, and enough wine to make it complete.

When all was said and done, we sat down with twenty-three of our friends and shared our first real Thanksgiving overseas. Although it’s an American tradition, I tried to incorporate tastes of my new homeland. We feasted on herbs de Provence turkey, sausage and chestnut stuffing, leek and crème fraîche mashed potatoes, haricots verts amandine, and Roquefort popovers. In turn, they were served with true Americana authenticities like cranberry sauce and grandma’s apple pie. Unlike our other typical meals in France, we stuffed ourselves, as is the custom after all. I told stories about the origins of Thanksgiving and realized in the middle of all this that the people at my table represented a multitude of places: France, England, Russia, Sweden, Norway, South Korea, and others. They had gathered together and made the effort to make it special. These were my overseas brothers and sisters. I experienced not only a wonderful Thanksgiving Day so many miles from home in Paris, but the feeling of home and stability that I’d missed.

Salons de Thé
As popular as coffee is in Paris, tea has become very au courant over the last twenty years or so, and there are many more salons de thé than there once were. As Sebastian Beckwith, a cofounder of my favorite tea company, In Pursuit of Tea (inpursuitoftea.com), mentioned to me, “Paris is a city that respects tea. Compared to England, where tea is really comfort food, France elevates tea to a higher level—the French are masters at scenting and flavoring tea, adding flavors and oils and herbs to make their blends. And I like that salons de thé offer a meeting place for Parisians as well as travelers.”
Among the most venerable salons is Mariage Frères, notably its outpost at 30 rue du Bourg-Tibourg in the Marais (+33 01 42 72 28 11 / mariagefreres.com). There are other Mariage Frères outposts and tea counters in Paris—as well as in other French cities, in Germany, and in Japan—but none of them, in my opinion, are as grand and Old World as this one. It’s quite an impressive space, and you really feel like you’ve stepped into another world, which in fact you have. As Alain Stella describes it in Mariage Frères French Tea: Three Centuries of Savoir-Faire (Flammarion, 2003): “Open the door of the Mariage Frères tea house, and a mysterious fragrance slyly declares itself. This fragrance comes forward first to greet you, then embrace you.… You might be tempted to say, like everyone else who vainly attempts to describe it, that it’s the scent of paradise. To a certain extent, this fragrance incarnates the spirit of Mariage Frères. The French tea merchant launches you on a sensual voyage to a dreamlike place, unique in the world, full of endless delights. Mariage Frères invites you to discover its wealth of five hundred teas, each of which, on being served, yields up a few molecules of scent certain to surprise and charm you.”
Founded as a tea and vanilla import firm in 1854, Mariage Frères remained a family business until 1982, when it was sold to Richard Bueno and Kitti Cha Sangmanee. Marthe Cottin, the only family member who was still with the company at the time, shared her knowledge of the tea trade (which was considerable) with Bueno and Sangmanee, as well as her “priceless asset—an extraordinary address book rich with one hundred years of suppliers as well as clients.” Franck Desains, who created the company’s distinctive black and pale yellow packaging, joined the company in 1987, and he continues guiding the company with Sangmanee (Bueno passed away in 1995). (The family name Mariage has nothing to do with marriage or nuptials: the word comes from the old French verb maréier, “to run the seas.” In a nautical context, a maréage referred to a sailor’s contract for the run, a set wage for a voyage no matter how long it lasted. Before 1650 the family name was spelled in several different ways, but after 1650 Mariage was adopted as its official spelling.)
At the time Bueno and Sangmanee came to Mariage Frères, tea was barely noticed in France. But even when Sangmanee visited England to learn more about tea, he discovered that tea there was mostly sold in tea bags found in supermarkets. At fancy hotels that offered proper afternoon tea service the selection of teas was limited to five or six varieties, and Sangmanee realized that the quality and variety of tea he and Bueno were offering was far greater than that commonly found in England. Tea was woven into the fabric of British life but it was not considered a fine, high-quality product. Sangmanee realized then that the future of Mariage Frères lay in a “gourmet” direction: offering a large range of teas and seeking out the very best leaves and harvests in the world.
If Mariage Frères has since become somewhat ubiquitous (you can buy Mariage Frères tea at a number of stores in New York alone, for example), its rue du Bourg-Tibourg shop remains distinctive, not only for its interior but for its Musée du Thé, upstairs, which is filled with exquisite objets. Fans both of tea in general and of Mariage Frères in particular will want to immediately obtain a copy of the book noted above—it’s a gorgeously produced volume in its own slipcase, and its author Alain Stella, is “an enthusiastic connoisseur of the everyday pleasures that define cultures and civilizations.” (Don’t you just love that?)
Cafés
“Cafés are central to Parisian life,” writes Noël Riley Fitch in Paris Café: The Select Crowd (Soft Skull, 2007), which is a wonderful read both about the famous Select café of Montparnasse—in the immediate vicinity of Paris’s other legendary cafés, Le Dôme, La Coupole, and La Rotonde—and about the role of cafés in French life. “They have been called the salons of democracy because we are all free to choose our own café. Once you have cast your lot with a particular café, you in a sense ‘own’ the café (and it owns you!). Loyalty binds. ‘It is easier to change one’s mind,’ as one wag said, ‘than it is to change one’s café.’ ” Fitch and the illustrator of the book, Rick Tulka, are so fond of Le Select because it remains the least changed and has retained its authenticity by not becoming a restaurant and not catering to tour buses. All reasons, they believe (and I agree), that Le Select is not often frequented by tourists.
The Paris Café Cookbook: Rendezvous and Recipes from 50 Best Cafés (William Morrow, 1998) and The Bistros, Brasseries, and Wine Bars of Paris: Everyday Recipes from the Real Paris (William Morrow, 2006), both by Daniel Young, are two books I really like, along with Young’s more recent Coffee Love: 50 Ways to Drink Your Java (Wiley, 2009), a photo- and fact-filled little book with fifty recipes for a wide variety of coffee drinks worldwide. Young is no stranger to the culinary world—he’s also the author of Made in Marseille: Food and Flavors from France’s Mediterranean Seaport (William Morrow, 2002) and he served as food critic and columnist for the New York Daily News from 1985 to 1996. He also maintains a great Web site, Young & Foodish (youngandfoodish.com). Young obviously really knows his cafés, both the kind you drink and the kind you frequent. I highly recommend readers note Young’s list of “Café Do’s and Don’t’s” in The Paris Café Cookbook, a few of which are: “Don’t assume a café that carries pain Poilâne has good food. Do ask for pain Poilâne when you order a croque-monsieur” (though note that you will pay a premium for it); “Don’t plan a café lunch for noon. Do plan a lunch at a popular café for 12:55” (despite Mark Greenside’s observation on this page, one o’clock is a popular time for lunch, and the best way to snag a table among locals is to show up just before office workers fill up the best cafés); and “Don’t order a café au lait at any Parisian café, brasserie, bistro, or tabac. Do order a café crème or, better yet, a petit crème” (at some point in the early nineties, café au lait became café crème, and if you order a café au lait you will immediately be identified as a tourist who is about thirty years behind the times).
To Young’s guide to Parisian café decorum, I would add the following reminders: waiters command respect in France, even at cafés, and men and women typically have serving jobs as a profession. Consult the menu posted outside the café before you sit down; Parisians usually know what they want before they take a seat. Cafés (and many restaurants) may have three seating areas, each commanding a different price: at the bar (or au comptoir), where there might be seats but customers usually stand (least expensive); indoor tables (more expensive than the bar); and outside tables, known as à la terrasse (most expensive). If you see tables set with napkins and silverware, don’t sit at one unless you plan on eating a meal. Don’t expect service rapide; allow at least thirty to forty-five minutes to place your order, eat or drink, and pay. If you’re really in a hurry, stand at the bar, where it will be faster and cheaper. If your waiter asks you to pay the bill before you’ve finished, it’s because he or she is going off duty and is required to settle the bill first. Finally, don’t complain about the price of your thimble-sized cup of espresso. You’re in Paris, after all, and you’re paying for the pleasant privilege of obtaining a seat at a table where you can linger—even if your tiny cup is long depleted—for hours.
Though cafés may no longer hold quite the central place in the lives of the French as they once did—according to Harriet Welty Rochefort in an article she wrote for France Today, the number of cafés in France has fallen from two hundred thousand in 1960 to little more than forty thousand today—they are by no means out of fashion. If you frequent the same café on a string of mornings, you may find, as I have, that you see the same people in it, usually sitting in the same spots. As André Aciman notes in Entréz: Signs of France, “Cozy, snug, warm, and secure, a café is not only a second home in a country where homes are always too small, or where being alone is unthinkable; it is a place where one draws closer to others. In La Bohème, everyone would sooner go to a cabaret than stay at home, for one is more comfortable out than in.”

RECOMMENDED READING

Beginning with my Tuscany and Umbria book, I invited Nach Waxman and Matt Sartwell, of New York’s Kitchen Arts & Letters, to recommend cookbooks and culinary titles to Collected Traveler readers. Kitchen Arts opened in 1983 and is the largest store in the United States devoted exclusively to books on food and wine, with more than thirteen thousand titles in English and other languages. I previously spent two sessions with Nach and Matt and filled up three hours on my tape recorder, which proved to be great for my Tuscany and Umbria book but hugely time-consuming for Nach and Matt. So for this Paris edition, they took a different tack and came up with a list they’ve entitled “Ten Great Ways to Prepare for a Trip to Paris.” Their excellent picks are as follows:

The Food of France, Waverley Root (Knopf, 1958; Vintage, 1992). Root puts French cooking into historical context and tells readers what the culinary specialties are in each region of France. He says, this is what they eat in this place, and therefore this is what you want to look for when you’re in local restaurants. And since everything in France ends up in Paris in one way or another, this book is eminently helpful.

Marling Menu Master for France, William Marling (Altarinda, 1971). This is perfect for the traveler who wants a quick and easy, get-me-out-of-trouble, what-am-I-eating book. It’s arranged by course and it provides handy descriptions of items you’d find on a menu.
The A–Z of French Food, edited by Geneviève de Temmerman (Scribo Editions, 1995) is for the more ambitious culinary traveler. This slender guide is the most comprehensive French-to-English food dictionary we’ve ever seen. In addition to menu items, it covers cooking terminology, which is especially helpful if you’re having a conversation with a waiter or chef or even a home cook. We always keep on hand a standard English–French dictionary, but it just doesn’t cover a significant number of food words. This A to Z guide is very popular with American cooks who are going to work in French kitchens.
Clotilde’s Edible Adventures in Paris, Clotilde Dusoulier (Broadway, 2008). The advantage with this book is that Clotilde is Parisian but she lived in the United States for some years, so she understands Paris the way an American might see it. She’s both realistic and serious in her approach. And though she covers some of the standard places, she also treats the neighborhood places that a Parisian would know but that are not likely to turn up in a guidebook.
The Brasseries of Paris, François Thomazeau and Sylvain Ageorges (Little Bookroom, 2007). The brasserie is the kind of more casual experience that we think most Americans are looking for when they come to Paris, and this modestly sized portable book is filled with attractive profiles of appealing places for every type of traveler.
The Ethnic Paris Cookbook, Charlotte Puckette and Olivia Kiang-Snaije (Dorling Kindersley, 2007). This book is unlike any other we’ve seen and it brings together the full range of France’s former colonies and beyond. The French have touched the whole world, after all, and it’s natural that all of these cuisines are to be found in Paris. Organized by the ethnic communities in Paris, with chapters on North Africa, Southeast Asia, sub-Saharan Africa, the Middle East, and Japan, it contains recipes, of course, but it is also a guide to some terrific restaurants, corner shops, and ethnic markets. The kinds of ethnic foods on offer in Paris aren’t the same as those to be found in the States, so this is a good book to read before you depart.
Paris Pâtisseries: History, Shops, Recipes (Flammarion, 2010). With this book you have complete fantasy fulfillment! It’s very dangerous to page through, and if you’re wondering about whether it’s worth going to Paris, it could change your mind. Legendary pâtissier Pierre Hermé wrote the foreword, and as each chapter is devoted to a type of pâtisserie—chocolate, contemporary, viennoiseries, cakes from childhood—it’s easy to find something in particular you might be craving. There are some recipes included in the last chapter, but the addresses of the pâtisseries and the stories behind the sweet creations are much more valuable.
Paris in a Basket: Markets—The Food and the People, Nicolle Aimee Meyer and Amanda Pilar Smith, with a foreword by Paul Bocuse (Könemann, 2000). The focus of this book is on outdoor food markets and it’s organized by arrondissement, so you can really see what everyday food shopping is like in each neighborhood. Paris just has so many more markets than we do here in the States, and there is a detailed market guide (indicating the days of the week the markets are set up) at the back of the book. This is especially helpful to those travelers who may be renting an apartment or who are staying in a place with a little kitchen.
Parisian Home Cooking: Conversations, Recipes, and Tips from the Cooks and Food Merchants of Paris, Michael Roberts (William Morrow, 1999). This is Nach’s favorite French cookbook, written by a former American chef and restaurant consultant who moved to Paris. It’s basically a book about what French people eat when they come home from work, everyday cooking by people who are not professional chefs but who share the French love of very good food. The recipes are for weeknight cooking, and this is the book for anyone who comes away from Paris vowing to make a difference in the way they cook. Roberts will help remind them how simple it is to cook ordinary French food.
Related Culinary Books of Interest
A Meal Observed, Andrew Todhunter (Knopf, 2004). This wonderful little book is a seductive account of a long, luxurious dinner at Paris’s celebrated Michelin-starred restaurant Taillevent (named after the cook to Charles V and Charles VI, alias Guillaume Tirel, who allegedly wrote the first French cookbook, Le Viandier) and an account of what went on in the restaurant’s kitchen. Todhunter was in the enviable role of apprenctice-cum-reporter and spent several months working in the kitchen, which, though highly orchestrated, was “less an atelier than a gun deck on a ship of war, a place of shouts and fire.” He is a likable guide and a fair observer. Whether a traveler has the good fortune to dine at Taillevent or another Michelin temple, this book is a superb insider’s introduction to haute cuisine in France. (And the single recipe included, for Marquise au Chocolat et à la Pistache, is delicious!)
Au Revoir to All That: Food, Wine, and the End of France, Michael Steinberger (Bloomsbury, 2009). In 1997, Steinberger believed that “nothing left me feeling more in love with life than a sensational meal in Paris. I refused to entertain the possibility that French cuisine had run aground.” He knew that “it was now pretty easy to find bad food in France if you went looking for it,” but as far as he was concerned, “France remained the first nation of food, and anyone suggesting otherwise either was being willfully contrarian or was eating in the wrong places.” But just after the turn of the millennium he reached the same conclusion as Adam Gopnik, who suggested in “Is There a Crisis in French Cooking?” (The New Yorker, April 28, 1997) that “the muse of cooking” had moved on to restaurants in New York, San Francisco, Sydney, and London, and that it was increasingly difficult to find places to eat in Paris that exuded the same dynamism. In chapters detailing a brief history of French cuisine, the enormous bureaucracy involved in owning a restaurant in France, the meteoric rise of Spanish cuisine (in 2008 the fabulous seaside town of San Sebastián boasted eighteen Michelin-starred restaurants—more per capita than any other city in the world)—the suicide of Burgundy chef Bernard Loiseau, the dining guides and ratings, fast food, cheese and wine, Alain Ducasse, the lack of multicultural staff, and more, Steinberger has written a convincing and eye-opening account of the decline of French cuisine. There were, and are, bright spots, however, in his tale, which is very much worth reading by anyone with an interest in cuisine.

INTERVIEW


Alexander Lobrano

Travel and food writer Alec Lobrano likes to say he has a “bipolar food background,” which he explains by the fact that his parents hail from Boston and New Orleans, two American cities with two very different food traditions. Growing up in Connecticut and spending summers with two great-aunts in New Orleans provided him with a very broad gastronomic background, but this didn’t prepare him for Paris, which he first visited in 1972. He’d just spent six weeks elsewhere in Europe, and he, his mother, and two brothers were meeting his father and sister in Paris. The family had more than one meal at the noteworthy restaurant Androuët, which specializes in cheese, and were even taken down into the cheese cellar by flashlight, an experience he says “hit me right over the head like a hammer.” When, on his last night in the city, he ate boeuf bourguignon and onion soup at a little subterranean place in the Latin Quarter, he savored every drop and craved more. And as he notes in Hungry for Paris, “Little did I know then that this addiction would become the compass by which I would live my life.” Not surprisingly, Alec burst into tears when his family left Paris on that first trip.

Thirty-eight years later, Alec no longer has to wonder when he’ll be back in Paris or plan elaborate schemes to get himself there, as he’s been living in the city since 1986. He served as Gourmet’s European correspondent for ten years and was an editor of the Zagat Paris Restaurants guide, and he feels he sees Paris from the level of the tabletop. In 2008 the first edition of Hungry for Paris was published (Random House), and in 2010 an updated edition was issued. In utter honesty, I can’t imagine anyone visiting Paris, for the first or fiftieth time, and not consulting this guide. It is discriminating without being haughty or ruthless; it is well written, interesting, fun to read, practical, and indispensable. As Alec informs us, he tries a half dozen new restaurants and returns to old favorites each week, and all the restaurants he recommends are places he’s frequented many times. Though this obviously isn’t a guarantee for the visitor—anyone can try a place on an off night, and tastes do differ—he vouches for the “seriousness, reliability, and quality of their cooking.” In addition to the reviews, I especially like the essays, notably “The French Foreign Legion: The Parisian Passion for North African Cooking,” “Table for One,” and “The Rise and Fall of the Parisian Brasserie.” It’s equally valuable to read the section “But What About? Or Why Certain Famous Restaurants Aren’t Included in This Book,” and the section listing places open all or part of the weekend is perhaps alone worth the price of the book. Whether you use the book to search for modest establishments or grand Michelin-starred temples, you will find, as Alec does, “singularly spectacular eating” in the City of Light.

  

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After some years of corresponding only by e-mail, I finally met Alec, in Paris, on an overcast, drizzly day at a café called Le Nemrod. We sat outside on the covered terrace, but after the raindrops began to fall on our table and my notebook was getting wet, I asked if there was another culinary haunt in the area that Alec particularly liked where we could go and take a few photos. As luck would have it, Alec said there was a new pâtisserie that had recently opened that he’d only briefly seen and wanted to revisit, so we walked a short distance to La Pâtisserie des Rêves (see this page). And, yes, for me at least, it most definitely is a pâtisserie worthy of rêves. The photos here of Alec inside the bakery are in black and white, so you’ll have to use your imagination to envision the bright and airy interior and the mod colors of hot pink, lime green, and orange. Rêves is the creation of chef and cookbook author Philippe Conticini, and it is without doubt one of the most creative pâtisseries anywhere in the world. Alec and I found time to chat in between my many oohs and ahhs.

Q: The subtitle of your book is The Ultimate Guide to the City’s 102 Best Restaurants. Why 102?
A: The original number was 101, but that sounded too much like a college intro course, so I added another one. I arrived at the choice of a hundred restaurants because I wanted to offer a broad selection of excellent tables in all parts of the city and in all different restaurant classes and categories without becoming encyclopedic. When I look at a restaurant book with a thousand restaurants, I always find myself wondering, “But which ones are really good?” In Hungry for Paris, they’re all really good—these are the places I’d send close friends who love good food.
Q: I understand that you only replaced about a dozen restaurants for the second edition of your book, which seems to me to be a statement about the consistent quality of places to eat in Paris—after all, it’s possible that you could have had to replace many more. Do you find that the level of quality is generally higher, and that places don’t open and close with such rapidity as often happens in the States?
A: There are fifteen new or revised restaurants in the updated edition of Hungry for Paris, which is indeed a reflection of the fact that the Paris restaurant scene is less novelty driven than that in other major cities on the one hand, and also a reflection of the fact that the best-quality restaurants in Paris are much more enduring than similar tables in, say, London or New York.
Q: When you first moved to Paris, in 1986, you bought three restaurant guidebooks. Which ones were they, and what were their shortcomings?
A: I bought Patricia Wells’s The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris, the Michelin guide, and the Gault Millau guide. The one I used the most was Patricia Wells’s book, because it offered a complete portrait of every restaurant in terms of cuisine, history, décor, and clientele and had a friendly, reliable tone. The Michelin guide in those days was still a sphinx (this was before they started adding a few tag lines of copy) so it wasn’t very helpful, and I found Gault Millau rather too Gaullist and self-congratulatory in tone. I travel a great deal for my work as a food and travel writer, and so I often avail myself of guidebooks, Web sites, etc., as a consumer. With this experience, I wrote the Paris restaurant book I’d be hoping to find if I were visiting Paris as an adventurous and intrepid food lover, or looking for a subjective survey of the city’s best restaurants with write-ups that would fully prepare me for the experience I’d have if I chose this place—Where is it? What’s the atmosphere like? Who goes there? And so on. I want all of this information in addition to an erudite judgment of the kitchen, and if I’m going to carry a pound or two of paper with me on a trip these days, I also want something that will be fun to read.
Q: Is there a food guide to another city in the world that you thought was well done and that might have inspired you for your own book?
A: The restaurant guide that first made me aware of the literary possibilities of restaurant guides was Seymour Britchky’s The Restaurants of New York (1977), which offered witty, amusing, useful portraits of a constellation of New York City restaurants that this author, a very good writer, liked. It was published by Random House and the editor was Joe Fox.
Q: When you were growing up, what were some books or movies that inspired a love of travel? And similarly, what have been some of your favorite books about Paris or France that you treasure as an adult?
A: My love of travel began as soon as I learned to walk, a curiosity that was profoundly nourished by my paternal grandmother, Jean, who was one of the most intrepid travelers I’ve ever known and who fanned the flames with black-and-white postcards from Egypt, India, Persia, Peru, and many other places. As soon as I learned to read, I devoured a series of books called The Land and the People of … that I found at the Westport, Connecticut, public library. These nonfiction books presented the history, geography, etc., of a variety of different countries and I couldn’t get enough of them. I also had an aunt who worked as an editor for a New York publisher, and she gave me a series of books that were the portraits of the lives of a little boy and a little girl in a variety of different European countries. I read the French book so many times it fell apart, but still remember it vividly—the kids lived in Paris but went to Nice to visit their grandparents, who owned a hotel. Their grandmother put a vase of mimosa on the night table in their room and fed them petits farcis. I was desperately jealous. Since reading, eating, and traveling are my compass points, it’s hard to think of a book that hasn’t inspired me, but I especially love Henry James, Proust, Cervantes, and Thomas Hardy, all of whom provoked a fierce desire to inhabit the worlds they described, and I also love Elizabeth David, A. J. Liebling, M. F. K. Fisher, Richard Olney, and Julia Child, in terms of falling in love with French food. I’d also tip my hat to The Cuisine of the Sun (Random House, 1976), a wonderful Niçoise cookbook by Mireille Johnston, and The Belly of Paris by Émile Zola, in the new translation by Mark Kurlansky (Modern Library, 2009), which is still the best gastronomic pornography I’ve ever come across.
Q: As there are quite a number of American expatriates living in Paris, do you see them often, or get together for, say, Thanksgiving?
A: The American community in Paris is smaller now than it once was, because Paris is an expensive city in terms of housing and Asia seems to be attracting a lot of those footloose young types who want to experience another culture these days. Since my partner is French, I live a more French life than many of my expat American friends, some of whom have a tendency to stick together. Thanksgiving is one occasion that we Yanks will get together, and not one of them goes by without a grateful discussion as to why French turkeys are so much better than American ones—they’re not overbred and are raised free-range on a healthy diet that does not include antibiotics or growth hormones. Most American turkey is pretty terrifying. Most American foods are available in Paris these days, but there are still some things I lug back with me from any trip to the United States, including chipotles in adobo sauce, fire-roasted jalapeño peppers, California raisins, cornmeal, and Lipton onion soup mix (for dip).
Q: Which arrondissement do you call home, and if forced to name your favorite café or bistro du coin, what would it be?
A: I live in the ninth arrondissement between the church of La Trinité and Saint-Georges, and the best little bistro in the area is the wonderful Chez Georgette (29 rue Saint-Georges / +33 01 42 80 39 13), a friendly place that does wonderful French home cooking and is very reasonably priced. The café I go to most often is the Café La Rotonde (2 place d’Estienne d’Orves), because it’s just downstairs, the people watching is terrific, and the staff is nice. My two favorite cafés are Le Nemrod (51 rue du Cherche-Midi, in the sixth—they do superb croques-monsieur and -madame, great steak tartare, and their Morgon Vieille Vignes is one of my favorite wines—and the Le Nemours (Place Colette, in the first), because it has a great terrace, good coffee, and is right next to the gorgeous gardens of the Palais Royal.
Q: How often do you cook at home, and what are the cookbooks you use most often?
A: I love to cook and don’t see how anyone can write about food without being a passionate cook. The cookbooks I refer to most often include La Cuisine du marché by Paul Bocuse, Marcella Hazan’s two Italian cookbooks, and James Beard’s American Cookery.
Q: What are some of your favorite day-trip destinations outside of Paris?
A: The medieval city of Troyes, which has the most spectacular collection of stained glass in France, is a superb overnight trip from Paris, and it also has two truly delightful hotels: Le Champ des Oiseaux (champdesoiseaux.com) and La Maison de Rhodes (maisonderhodes.com). La Mignardise in Troyes (lamignardise.net) is a very good contemporary French bistro, too. As long as it’s not high season, when it gets too crowded, I also love Barbizon in the Seine-et-Marne region south of Paris. The brasserie at Les Pléiades hotel (hotel-les-pleiades.com) is excellent, and the Boucherie de l’Angélus (64 Grande Rue, Barbizon, / +33 01 60 66 40 27) is one of the best all-purpose grocers in France—their meat is superb, they have a terrific assortment of cheese and charcuterie, a small but good selection of vegetables, and even a nicely stocked wine department. When I crave a quick trip to the seaside, I head for Le Touquet on the English Channel in Picardy. The Hôtel Westminster (westminster.fr) is a polite, affordable old-fashioned hotel, and I love the fish soup at Perard (restaurantperard.com), a popular long-running fish house there. I also never miss a meal at La Grenouillère (lagrenouillere.fr) in nearby Madeleine-sous-Montreuil—Alexandre Gauthier is one of the most interesting young chefs in France, and I can’t think about his poached lobster tail served in a smoldering juniper branch (for the perfume) without my mouth watering.

  

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Q: Do you envision expanding Hungry for Paris to include other culinary-related favorites such as pâtisseries, boulangeries, charcuteries, ice cream shops, coffee and tea salons, chocolate purveyors, bookstores, street markets, florists, and tabletop stores?
A: Since I don’t want to make Hungry for Paris too much of an armload, I am planning to expand my Web site (hungryforparis.com) to include write-ups and listings of my favorite cafés, charcuteries, tea shops, etc. In my experience, most people only go to one or two of these places—whereas they’ll go to many restaurants—so I’d rather offer this information online and let people cut and paste from my site before they travel.
Q: At the risk of becoming outdated, what are some restau-rants you’ve recently discovered that you’re particularly impressed by?
A: In Paris, I love Frenchie, La Cave Beauvau, Jadis, and Yam’Tcha, all of which I include in the updated version of Hungry for Paris. Outside of Paris, the best meal I’ve had recently was at Sa.Qua.Na in Honfleur—superb fish cookery in a really charming Zen-style dining room. During a recent trip to Istanbul, I fell head over heels for Çiya—I had no idea that the Turkish kitchen was so brilliantly diverse, and I loved some of the sour-savory tastes of the dishes I tasted there.
Q: When you’re not thinking about or writing about food in Paris, what are some of your favorite ways to spend time in the city?
A: Whenever I have a few minutes free, I head for the Louvre, the Musée d’Orsay, or one of the city’s many other wonderful museums—and always by foot, since Paris is one of the world’s great walking cities. I love walking along the stone-paved banks of the Seine, and I love strolling through the city’s food markets, too. And there’s no better way to spend a sunny afternoon than to head for the Jardin du Luxembourg, the world’s most perfect urban park, with a good book. For me, the Jardin du Luxembourg offers the ultimate unself-conscious display of European civilization, with all of its grandeur, beauty, endearing flaws, and petty hidebound codes.

You got very hungry when you did not eat enough in Paris because all the bakery shops had such good things in the windows and people ate outside at tables on the sidewalk so that you saw and smelled the food.

—Ernest Hemingway,
A Moveable Feast

MUSEUMS, MONUMENTS,
AND GARDENS

I threw myself on a bench and began to wonder if there was anything better in the world worth doing than to sit in an alley of clipped limes smoking, thinking of Paris and of myself.
—GEORGE MOORE,
“IN THE LUXEMBOURG GARDENS,”
Memoirs of My Dead Life
I stand for a long time on the Place de la Concorde, where there is as much sky as in a Russian rye field or a corn field in Kansas.
—NINA BERBEROVA, The Italics Are Mine
In Paris the past is always with you: you look at it, walk over it, sit on it. I had to stop myself from grabbing Gwendal’s arm as we walked up the narrow passage to the entrance: Pardon me, sir, I couldn’t help but notice; the cobblestones outside your door are older than my country.
—ELIZABETH BARD, Lunch in Paris
I had never really wanted a photograph of a picture before I saw Millet’s Man with the Hoe. I was about twelve or thirteen years old, I had read Eugénie Grandet of Balzac, and I did have some feelings about what French country was like but The Man with the Hoe made it different, it made it ground not country, and France has been that to me ever since.
—GERTRUDE STEIN, Paris France

The Walls of Paris
MARY MCAULIFFE

AS READERS OF my previous books may recall, I love stone walls. I don’t remember when I became consciously aware that I loved stone walls, but I know I have admired them for a long time. Actually, I love stone in general—whether smooth or rough; whether a building, walkway, tower, stairway, archway, bridge, aqueduct, whatever.

Paris is not necessarily a city that immediately comes to mind when thinking about walls, but in fact the city has had several walls built around it—to keep invaders out, to hold the plague at bay, and to foil tax evaders. I’m especially fascinated by the fifty-five barrières (tollhouses) conceived in 1784 by the fermiers généraux, or independent contractors who collected taxes for the king. The barrières were designed by Claude-Nicolas Ledoux, and according to an article by Stephen Costello that appeared in the New York Times (June 11, 1995), were meant to be rather modest customs offices. Ledoux, however, “imagined a monumental system of gateways worthy of ancient Babylon or Memphis. Audaciously, he called these barrières Les Propylées de Paris, from Propylaea, the monumental entrance at the west end of the Acropolis in Athens.” Ledoux apparently constructed more buildings than any other architect of his time (though most of his work has since been destroyed) and the barrières “would be his most extensive and costly.”

Readers especially interested in Ledoux may want to know about the Saline Royale—royal salt works—located about three hours from Paris in Arc-et-Senans, in the Franche-Comté region. The complex was built in a unique semicircle per Ledoux’s plans, and it became a Unesco World Heritage Site in 1963. All of Ledoux’s models for the Paris barrières are displayed in a museum dedicated to him there, the Institut Claude-Nicolas Ledoux.

MARY MCAULIFFE was a regular contributor for more than a decade to Paris Notes and is the author of Paris Discovered: Explorations in the City of Light (Princeton Book Company, 2006), where this piece, adapted from a Paris Notes article, originally appeared. She holds a PhD in history and is working on a book about the dawn of the Belle Époque in Paris, including Monet, Zola, Bernhardt, Eiffel, Debussy, Clemenceau, and their friends.

 IT MAY SEEM ODD, but not all that many years ago, Paris did indeed have walls—real, working walls, meant to keep out an enemy. And although it may seem strange to think of the City of Light enveloped by bristling defenses, this has been exactly the case for much of its long history.

In fact, Paris has had many walls, each encircling the city like so many rings on a tree. Just as rings tell the story of a tree’s growth, these walls tell the story of a city’s growth. For Paris’s walls, or series of walls, have given the city its distinctive shape—not only the outwardly spiraling outline of its arrondissements, but the arch of its Grands Boulevards, the curvature of its No. 2 and No. 6 Métro lines (circling Paris from the Arc de Triomphe to the Place de la Nation), and the familiar path of its beltway, the Périphérique.

The earliest of this long string of fortifications dates from almost two millennia ago, the third century AD, when the Romans forged a stout set of defenses to protect Gallo-Roman Paris (Lutetia) from barbarian attacks. Erecting sturdy walls around the Île de la Cité as well as their nearby forum, the Romans turned the entire town into a military outpost.

Nothing remains aboveground of the forum or its defensive walls, which encompassed the entire Left Bank area from rue Soufflot to rue Cujas, between rue Saint-Jacques and boulevard Saint-Michel (5th). But a visit to the Crypte Archéologique, beneath the Place du Parvis that fronts Notre-Dame, brings you face-to-face with the remains of the third-century Gallo-Roman wall that once encircled the Île de la Cité. (Remember that the Cité was a far smaller and lower place two millennia ago, before Seine silt and human landfill did their work.) You can find another trace of Roman wall at 6 rue de la Colombe, on the Cité’s northern side.

Centuries after the Romans, when Paris was struggling with yet another onslaught—this time from the Norse—Eudes, Count of Paris, built a wooden precursor to Louis VI’s Châtelet at the entrance to the wooden bridge linking the Right Bank to the Île de la Cité. (Eudes wisely built a similar defense on the Left Bank as well.) Not only did this Châtelet and its stone successor protect the Cité, but by the twelfth century it anchored a wooden stockade that some historians believe encircled a portion of the Right Bank, which by then was emerging as the city’s commercial quarter.

Nothing remains of this stockade, of course, although you can find hints of its former presence. Its eastern gate, Porte Baudoyer, bestowed its name on Place Baudoyer (4th). Winding its way across the quarter, rue François-Miron follows the path of an ancient road that entered the stockade through Porte Baudoyer, linking Paris to the east.

Wooden defenses and the crumbling remains of Roman walls seemed to have done the job for a while, but by the late twelfth century a new threat—this time from the king of England—set the French to building a far sturdier set of fortifications. Philip II (later called Philip Augustus) responded vigorously to the fact that the English monarch (the famed Richard the Lionheart) was also the duke of Normandy and half of France besides. Philip surrounded Paris with stone ramparts ten feet wide and thirty feet high, punctuated by a battery of towers and reinforced with a deep ditch. He also erected a formidable riverside castle, the Louvre, to the immediate west of these fortifications, providing extra muscle in the direction from which the enemy was expected to attack.

Neither Lionheart nor his immediate successors put Philip’s fortifications to the test, but you can still see this fortress’s massive foundations, recently excavated and now dramatically displayed beneath the Louvre’s Cour Carrée.

You can also find fragments of Philip’s eight-hundred-year-old wall. The best known of these are the section near the Panthéon (rue Clovis at rue du Cardinal-Lemoine, 5th) and the impressive tower-to-tower stretch along rue des Jardins-Saint-Paul (4th).

There are other lesser-known remnants of this ancient fortification, some of which turn up in surprising places. On the Right Bank, for example, take a look at the stunning fifteenth-century Tour Jean-sans-Peur (now open to the public at 20 rue Étienne-Marcel in the second), which incorporates a portion of Philip’s wall, including the base of one of its many towers. On nearby rue des Francs-Bourgeois (4th), Crédit Municipal’s inner courtyard contains a splendid tower base (with newer top) plus an outline of the diagonal course the wall took through these parts, en route to the river.

On the Left Bank, at 4 cour du Commerce Saint-André (6th), the Catalonian tourist office has preserved a magnificent three-story tower from Philip’s wall, incorporating it into a chic renovation. Closer to the river, at 27 rue Mazarine (adjoining Passage Dauphine, 6th), you will find a beautifully restored wall section plus a tower base on the first and second subterranean levels of a parking garage.

Once you get the hang of it, you’ll know where to look. Philip repeated his monumental towers every sixty meters along the wall, which extended from the Louvre and a matching Left Bank tower on the west to the rue des Jardins-Saint-Paul segment and its Left Bank counterpart to the east. The Tour Jean-sans-Peur portion stands close to the wall’s northernmost point, while the piece near the Panthéon is about as far south as the fortifications got before curving back toward the river (the Place de la Contrescarpe, in the fifth, marked the southern point of the counterscarp, or sloping outer side of the ditch surrounding the wall). Also remember that any nearby street incorporating the word fossé (moat or ditch) in its name is a good clue to follow. Rue Mazarine, by the way, was once called rue des Fossés-de-Nesle, while rue Monsieur-le-Prince was once rue des Fossés-Monsieur-le-Prince.

Having completed his massive fortification, Philip is said to have embraced his architect and announced, “There is now a king, and a France.” Unquestionably Paris was now far more secure, and it was not until almost two centuries later, after major hostilities once again broke out between France and England, that a French king decided to update his capital’s defenses.

By this time (the late fourteenth century), the burgeoning city had grown into a cramped metropolis that was pushing hard against the confines of Philip’s outdated wall. Given England’s crushing victories on French soil, France’s king Charles V determined to do something about the antiquated ramparts that so indifferently defended—and so grievously constrained—his people.

His solution was to build a new wall, encircling a far larger area. But unlike Philip, he chose to place this bristling new fortification around only the commercial Right Bank, which by this time had far outstripped the university-centered Left Bank in growth and prosperity. Leaving the Left Bank to whatever protection Philip’s ramparts could still provide, Charles flung his bulwarks in a wide arc from approximately the site of the present Place du Carrousel (in the midst of today’s Louvre) in the west to his formidable new fortress, the Bastille, in the east.

Photo Credit 30.1

Moving the old city gates outward along such major thoroughfares as rue Saint-Denis and rue Saint-Martin to the north, and rue Saint-Antoine and rue Saint-Honoré to the east and west, he in effect created a new and larger shell for the prospering Right Bank city within. He also provided protection for the new royal palace at the Hôtel Saint-Paul (the site now bounded by rue Saint-Paul, rue Saint-Antoine, and rue du Petit-Musc in the fourth, near the Bastille) and the Louvre, which he now converted into a royal residence.

Some two centuries later, as religious and civil warfare engulfed France, yet another Charles (Charles IX) and a Louis (Louis XIII) extended this wall in an arc from the Saint-Denis gate westward, to encompass the city’s growing Right Bank. The wall now stretched from the Bastille in the east to a point ending between the present-day Place de la Concorde and the Tuileries in the west.

Remnants of this wall unexpectedly came to light during recent renovations of the Musée de l’Orangerie (Place de la Concorde, 1st), where a lengthy section has now been preserved. You can also find vestiges of the Bastille’s counterscarp (in the Bastille station of the No. 5 Métro line) as well as the site of Charles V’s Saint-Honoré gate, marked by a bas-relief of Jeanne d’Arc’s head (161–163 rue Saint-Honoré, 1st).

Most importantly, though, you can still trace the course of Louis XIII’s wall as you stroll down the Grands Boulevards, from the Place de la Madeleine (8th) in the west all the way to the Place de la Bastille in the east, for the Sun King himself, Louis XIV, laid out these most Parisian of all promenades along the course of his father’s defensive wall, which he pulled down in the wake of satisfying victories over all his enemies. The word “boulevard” itself, historians remind us, derives from an old Germanic word for “bulwark.”

Louis XIV, who never did things by halves, also demolished the old fortified entry gates of Saint-Martin and Saint-Denis, erecting in their place the triumphal arches that still remain (bordering the tenth). These arches framed ceremonial entries into the city until the nineteenth century, when the Arc de Triomphe took their place.

Until the Sun King sent out his demolition crews, the successive walls of Paris had served for centuries to keep out danger, whether enemy troops or—as in the case of the Hôpital Saint-Louis, built just outside city walls—the plague. (Now a greatly expanded full-time hospital, Hôpital Saint-Louis still retains its seventeenth-century core, at 2 place du Docteur-Alfred-Fournier, in the 10th.)

But since Philip’s time, the walls of Paris had also served the king in quite another capacity—that of foiling smugglers intent on evading the traditionally steep royal tariffs on incoming goods. The disappearance of Louis XIII’s wall left the royal tax collectors in the lurch, giving resourceful Parisians a major assist in bypassing the tollgates.

The royal solution was simple and dramatic: a new wall around Paris, this time one whose sole purpose was to buttress the royal tax collectors, or tax farmers, called the fermiers généraux. This wall, known as the Fermiers Généraux wall, went up in a hurry in the 1780s, ringing Paris with more than fifty tollhouses linked by a wall ten feet high and more than fifteen miles in circumference. Much of Paris’s population was devastated by this turn of events, which sent prices soaring.

Oddly, those responsible for the wall seemed to think that Parisians would find their new constraint more acceptable—even a matter of pride—if it appeared to be a magnificent work of art, a kind of “garland” around Paris. They could not have been more mistaken. Instead, the very grandness of the numerous neoclassical tollhouses designed by Claude-Nicolas Ledoux, one of the foremost architects of his day, stirred up an extraordinary degree of anger and resentment. Even aficionados of neoclassical architecture, such as Thomas Jefferson (who served as American minister to France during the 1780s), heartily despised them. Not surprisingly, the people of Paris destroyed many of these hated “temples of commerce” during the opening clashes of the Revolution.

Only four of these controversial tollhouses have survived. On the Left Bank, twin buildings—the remains of the old tollgate the Barrière d’Enfer—still stand at Place Denfert-Rochereau (14th), where one now serves as an entrance to the Catacombs. On the Right Bank, a small rotunda (capped by a nineteenth-century dome) graces the northern entrance to Parc Monceau (8th), marking what once was the Monceau toll barrier. Far to the east, in the Place de la Nation (11th and 12th), two columns dramatically mark the old Barrière du Trône tollgate. (The statues that top these columns, added later, are of Philip Augustus and Saint-Louis.) Twin buildings flanking these columns once served as offices and lodgings.

Most striking by far is the Rotonde de la Villette (19th), at the foot of the Bassin de la Villette by Place de la Bataille-de-Stalingrad. The largest of the surviving tollhouses and the centerpiece of the misjudged “garland” that Ledoux cast around Paris, this massive rotunda (based on Palladio’s Villa Rotonda) guarded a convergence of northern routes into Paris, including the old Roman road to the sea. A strange relic of the ancien régime in this working-class neighborhood, the rotunda—set in a pleasant park—survives the indignities of the nearby Métro (which here streams past aboveground), just as it somehow managed to survive the revolutionary mobs two centuries ago.

The Fermiers Généraux wall itself managed to survive for many years, owing to the fact that Napoléon Bonaparte and subsequent regimes found both it—and the income it collected—useful. But in 1860 the government at last took it down, leaving only the boulevards that had run beside it and, eventually, the No. 2 and No. 6 Métro lines to mark its course.

By this time Paris had continued its surge outward into areas such as Passy, Montmartre, and Belleville. Reflecting this new ring of growth, the government had already enclosed Paris within yet a larger and more bristling wall. Named after France’s then premier Adolphe Thiers, the Thiers fortifications (built from 1841 to 1845) eventually marked Baron Haussmann’s administrative limits for Paris, complete with the arrondissements as they exist today. In time, the Thiers wall also replaced the Fermiers Généraux wall as a tax barrier. But from the outset its chief function was defensive, reflecting concern for Paris’s security in the post-Napoleonic world.

The enemy no longer was England but Prussia and a reunited Germany. Yet the Thiers fortifications did little to stop the Germans during the 1870 Franco-Prussian War, and never saw action during World War I. One of the first things the French did to inaugurate the peace in 1919 was to pull down these outdated ramparts.

Originally, in addition to the unlamented wall, the Thiers fortifications included sixteen forts built outside the wall’s perimeter. Despite heavy bombardment and destruction during the Franco-Prussian War and the subsequent Commune uprising, many of these forts still survive and now serve as nuclei for more modern military installations.

Little else of the Thiers fortifications now remains except for the names of its many gates. But you can easily trace the wall’s general course by driving the Périphérique. Defining Paris’s current city limits (with the exception of the adjacent Bois de Boulogne and Bois de Vincennes), the Périphérique provides yet another shell around a city that has outgrown and cast off a remarkable series of ever-larger shells.

Perhaps you will remember this the next time you inch your way through bumper-to-bumper Périphérique traffic. You may indeed be gridlocked, but you are also following—albeit slowly—the latest in a succession of rings marking two grand millennia of growth for this remarkable city.

Affordable Gothic Thrills
ANNE PRAH-PEROCHON

“HOW TO LOOK at a Gothic Cathedral” would be a good subtitle for this piece. For the uninitiated, the three major elements of Gothic architecture are l’arc brisé (pointed arch), la voûte sur croisées d’ogives (vaulted arches which cross diagonally), and les arcs-boutants (flying buttresses).

If you read a little French and have a passion for architecture, look for the Grammaire des Styles series in Latin Quarter bookshops. (Gibert Jeune, gibertjeune.fr, is the best known, with eight locations around the Place Saint-Michel—the general-interest bookstore is at 5 place Saint-Michel—and one in the Grands Boulevards neighborhood.) The series, published by Flammarion and popular among students, covers architectural styles from all over the world; the three most useful titles for France are L’Art roman, L’Art gothique, and La Renaissance française. Each volume is an inexpensive, slender paperback featuring black-and-white photos and drawings.

ANNE PRAH-PEROCHON is an art historian, lecturer, and former editor in chief of France Today, where this piece originally appeared. She has been decorated by the French government as a Chevalier de la Légion d’Honneur and Officier des Palmes Académiques. She also writes the history section of France-Amérique: Le Journal français des Etats-Unis, a monthly founded in 1943 by World War II France Libre exiles that became the international weekly edition of Le Figaro in the 1960s. In 2007, France-Amérique was bought by Journal français, the largest French-language journal published in America since 1978.

 THE SHEER NUMBER of major churches that rose in France between 1170 and 1270 (six hundred of them!) is awe-inspiring. Even more impressive is the fact that they are still standing to this day, through numerous wars and hundreds of years. It is impossible to visit France without stumbling upon these lofty monuments in which you can appreciate, for free, masterpieces of just about any art form.

However, you might sometimes be perplexed about the best way to visit these awesome buildings. I hope the following tips and recommendations, based on personal experience, will contribute to your enjoyment.

Take along warm clothing—even in the middle of summer, a cathedral is usually chilly and drafty (the crypts are particularly icy). Also, wear comfortable shoes, because you will probably be doing a lot of pacing in one spot as you admire your surroundings. Inside the church, beware of uneven flagstones, worn over many centuries by millions of feet. Because you walk most of the time with your eyes up, it is easy to make a misstep or even twist your ankle.

If you are tempted to climb the stairs leading to the towers or the steeple to enjoy a panoramic view, remember that there are hundreds of them—narrow, hollowed in the center, very steep, and in spirals. Climbing cathedral steps is not for the weak of heart; Notre-Dame de Paris, for one, counts 387 steps in its northern tower!

Sunlight streaming through the verrières (stained-glass windows) of large cathedrals such as Chartres, Amiens, and Bourges offers a kaleidoscopic effect, so select a sunny day for your visit if possible. If not, try to visit each cathedral at its optimal time of day. For example, Notre-Dame de Paris is very dark inside, so if you must visit on an overcast day, do so at midday. Chartres and Amiens, on the other hand, are naturally bright, so you can visit them later in the day. Different parts of the churches—all oriented the same way—are also best seen at particular moments of the day: the light through the windows of the apse (behind the altar) is at its most joyous in the morning, whereas the sunset light creates very dramatic effects on the rose windows of the western façade.

Even if you are not religious, you will have an enriching experience if you attend high mass on Sunday mornings, because a cathedral is fully alive during mass. Attend a service to experience the organ music, the vapors of the incense, the flowers, and the liturgical chants. Times are posted at the entrance or marked in your guidebook. In summer, large cathedrals offer free concerts of sacred music on Sunday afternoons. Until his death a few years ago, the celebrated organist Cochereau was often found rehearsing or performing in Notre-Dame de Paris.

A guided tour is only as interesting as its guide. If you spot a priest or a monk explaining the details of the church, follow him! They are the best guides, because they live on the premises, take part in local excavations, and often have authored scholarly books on their church; in short, they are passionately in love with their topic. In the absence of a tour guide, a region-specific Michelin guidebook (with the green cover) offers a good balance of explanations and useful tips.

Before entering the cathedral, walk around it to appreciate its architecture and the relationship of the steeple and the towers to the rest of the building. Remember that builders always started with the choir (where the altar stands), because without a choir the church was useless. Because it often took several generations to build, a cathedral could become a stylistic hodgepodge as architects of different eras came and went. The average building time was about eighty years and life expectancy was thirty years, so a child born in Reims around 1210, when its cathedral was begun, could hardly have hoped to see it finished. This privilege was reserved for the child’s great-grandchildren. This hodgepodge effect can be seen in Chartres cathedral, although it was built remarkably fast. On the north portal of Chartres, the statues have stylized hieratic heads seemingly stuck on stiff candlelike bodies, whereas the statues of the Royal Portal are graceful and free, representative of a later style.

When looking at a Gothic cathedral, you are at a disadvantage over your medieval counterpart, who, upon entering a church, automatically knew where to find a symbolic scene and the reason for its placement. Keep in mind that all cathedrals, at least until the sixteenth century, were enormous compasses oriented from the rising to the setting sun, a custom dating from early Christian days. It was customary to enter from the western side, which is where sculptors lavished their creativity, particularly on the tympanum above the main portal. Medieval theologians and artists confused the meaning of the word occidens (the western side) with the verb occidere, meaning “to kill,” so it seemed natural to them to represent the end of the world on the western façade (the western façades of many cathedrals, including Notre-Dame de Paris, La Sainte-Chapelle, Bourges, and Chartres depict Last Judgment or Apocalypse scenes).

Once inside, look at the relationship between the length of the church, the height of its ceiling vault, and the dominating presence of windows. Before looking at the numerous details of the interior, take a quick tour of the cathedral, following the bas-côté (right aisle) all the way to the abside (apse) and then come back to the main portal by the left aisle. Stop at the croisée du transept (transept crossing), where the north-south and east-west axes meet. This is the best place from which to evaluate the daring of the medieval engineers and architects, who erected vaults up to 140 feet high. Leaning against one of the four angle pillars, look up to the vault or the tower in the transept. It is dizzying, especially in Bourges or Amiens. Try to imagine the cathedral as it looked originally, when every inch of space was covered with color—paint, tapestry, embroidery, Byzantine brocades, or Oriental rugs.

Depending on the time you have and the interest you feel for details of architecture and iconography, you may want to tour the cathedral again, this time following the description of Michelin or a more specialized book. To better appreciate the beauty and picturesque details of the pillars and tall stained-glass windows, bring a pair of binoculars. Without them, you might not realize that the beautiful stained-glass windows are not just displays of color, but long narrations that usually can be read from bottom to top and from left to right. In Chartres, the famous Charlemagne window (on the left in the ambulatory, behind the main altar) traces Charlemagne’s story from the vision of Emperor Constantine to Charlemagne’s deliverance of Jerusalem through Roland’s battle with the Infidels and subsequent death.

Chartres’s windows also reflect the wide range of donors, those individuals with sufficient power and wealth to make donations independently of the ecclesiastical authorities. A full panorama of medieval society (some four thousand royalty, nobility, tradesmen, and craftsmen) is shown in figurative medallions depicting seventy guilds or corporations (bakers, shoemakers, water carriers, butchers, money changers, wine merchants, and tailors, among others) hard at work.

The Charlemagne window was paid for by the corporation of fur merchants, whose “signature” stands at the bottom, where a merchant shows a fur-lined cloak to his customer. Some signatures were displayed in prominent locations (the medieval equivalent of advertising): the newly baked bread of the bakers who donated the window of the Prodigal Son can be seen in the central window of the central chapel, whereas the portrait of another donor, Thibault, Count of Chartres, was put in a dark corner next to the Notre-Dame de la Belle Verrière window to the right of the choir.

The art of identifying seemingly anonymous characters or saints in stained-glass windows or other art forms lies in the recognition of their distinctive emblems, used in art since the sixth century CE. These clear and expressive images enabled even illiterate people to understand abstract ideas. Not only do we recognize them because of their appropriate dress (bishops in robes, kings crowned and robed, soldiers in armor) but also by the instrument of their death (the wheel for Saint Catherine, the knife for Saint Bartholomew, stones for Saint Stephen, arrows for Saint Sebastian …).

Equally important is the relative position of the saints in relation to Christ, because the closer to God, the saintlier the character is assumed to be. On the portal of the Last Judgment in Notre-Dame de Paris, the saints are presented in orderly concentric bands below the patriarchs, prophets, confessors, martyrs, and virgins surrounding the figure of Christ.

Symmetry was also regarded as the expression of heaven’s inner harmony, so artists juxtaposed the twelve patriarchs of the Old Testament with the twelve apostles of the New Testament (each with the emblem of his former occupation, such as the fish for Peter, the fisherman, and a purse for Matthew, the tax gatherer), and the four major prophets (Isaiah, Ezekiel, Daniel, and Jeremiah) with the four evangelists (Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John). In the saintly hierarchy, next came the four archangels. Naturally, Mary held the prime location, very close to Christ on the right-hand side.

Once you have identified the carved scenes in one cathedral, you will be able to apply this knowledge to most churches, because no medieval artist would be rash enough to modify the appearance of figures and the arrangement of the great scenes from the Gospels or to group figures according to individual fancy. Similarly, you won’t need long to identify the church iconography and to recognize many characters and scenes, even if you weren’t born into the Christian religion. King David is always shown playing the harp, and the three magi are invariably wearing crowns, even while they sleep! Seeing a tiny naked child, you will recognize the image of a soul; seeing a mature woman clasping a young girl, you’ll know it is Anne, holding her daughter, the Virgin Mary.

Now, after arming yourself with the appropriate clothing, a good guidebook, binoculars, and a little knowledge and endurance, you can fully appreciate this free and edifying pastime of visiting cathedrals.

TO REFRESH YOUR MEMORY

So many great books have been written about Gothic cathedrals that they form an inexhaustible supply. Two of the oldest studies remain the best:

Mont-Saint-Michel and Chartres, Henry Adams (Houghton Mifflin, 1933).

Notre-Dame de Paris, Allan Temko (Viking, 1959).

THE ROAD TO DISCOVERY

Paris

Notre-Dame de Paris (Place du Parvis Notre-Dame, 4ème / notredamedeparis.fr). Open every day 8 a.m.–6:45 p.m.

Crypt of Notre-Dame de Paris. Open April to September daily 10 a.m.–6:30 p.m.; October to March, 10 a.m.–5:30 p.m. The crypt contains vestiges of two-thousand-year-old houses.

Musée de Notre-Dame de Paris (10 rue du Cloître Notre-Dame, 4ème). This museum retraces the great moments in the history of the cathedral.

La Sainte-Chapelle (4 boulevard du Palais, 4ème / sainte-chapelle.monuments-nationaux.fr). Open March to October, 9:30 a.m.–6 p.m.; November to February 9 a.m.–5 p.m.

Amiens (Somme)

Cathédrale Notre-Dame (Place Notre-Dame / cathedrale-amiens.monuments-nationaux.fr). Open April to October, 8:30 a.m.–noon, 2–7 p.m.; November to March, 8:30 a.m.–noon, 2–5 p.m. Its nave rises 138 feet with the support of 126 slender pillars.

Beauvais (Oise)

Cathédrale Saint-Pierre (rue Saint-Pierre / cathedrale-beauvais.fr).

Bourges (Cher)

Cathédrale Saint-Étienne (Place Étienne Dolet / cathedrale-bourges.monuments-nationaux.fr). This is the widest Gothic French cathedral and the most similar to Notre-Dame de Paris. Its western façade has five sculpted portals. Beautiful stained-glass windows.

Chartres (Eure-et-Loir)

Cathédrale Notre-Dame (Place de la Cathédrale / diocesechartres.com/cathedrale).

Reims (Marne)

Cathédrale Notre-Dame (Place du Cardinal Luçon / cathedrale-reims.com). Open 7:30 a.m.–7 p.m.; closed November 1–March 14. This cathedral has been the backdrop of French kings’ coronations from medieval times to 1825 (King Charles X). Its western façade has two thousand statues. In its apse, there is a lovely Chagall window showing the Crucifixion and the sacrifice of Isaac.

Rouen (Seine-Maritime)

Cathédrale Notre-Dame (Place de la Cathédrale / cathedrale-rouen.net). This Gothic masterpiece was painted thirty times by Monet in the 1890s; several of the paintings are in the Musée d’Orsay in Paris.

Steven Barclay
Steven Barclay is the author of one of my favorite books, A Place in the World Called Paris, with a foreword by Susan Sontag and illustrations by Miles Hyman (Chronicle, 1994). Here Barclay has gathered wonderful excerpts from twentieth-century fiction, poems, essays, and memoirs and organized them under such compelling categories as “Conditions of Its Greatness,” “Presence of the Past,” “Seasons, Rain, Light,” “Means of Transport,” “Love and Solace,” and “A City to Die In.” Among the writers included are Patric Kuh, V. S. Pritchett, Djuna Barnes, Henry Miller, Maya Angelou, Ludwig Bemelmans, Mavis Gallant, James Wright, Ned Rorem, Cyril Connolly, Jean Rhys, Nina Berberova, and Françoise Gilot. For those who want a book of short passages to be picked up at random, this is the livre for you!
Barclay holds dual French and American citizenship—he was born in Los Angeles, but when he was four, his father, who worked for Bank of America, was transferred to Europe and the family landed in Paris in 1965. His maternal grandmother was French, and his mother now lives in Paris year-round. (Barclay lives in San Francisco but owns a place in Paris that happens to have the address of the original Shakespeare and Company bookstore.) “France was always home,” he told me, “and today I go to Paris every two months and I stay for ten days or so, and then I go in the summer and stay a month.”
Working on his book enabled Barclay to reconstruct his Paris. When he reached adolescence, he read “anything and everything to do with Paris. I read authors who had travel essays about Paris, diaries and memoirs, everything. And I collected them all. I photocopied them and I would reread them and I put them all in a box. And so the contents of that box became a book. Just as I tend to avoid books on the bestseller lists, I tried to find writings that hadn’t become clichéd. The book was the purest form of Paris for me—it’s the Paris that exists in your head and you can have it at any moment when you turn the pages of my book.”
I asked Barclay to share some of his Paris favorites. He loves “the Deux Magots at seven a.m., when there are no Americans there. You can read the Trib or Le Monde and it’s wonderful. I love it. The same four people wait on you. Give me pavement and a café any day! I do not long for a park or a forest or a beach. The Place des Vosges at eight in the morning is also nice, because there’s no one there.”
But Barclay’s favorite Parisian spot is the Musée Albert-Kahn and its garden, in a suburb just west of the city (14 rue du Port, Boulogne-Billancourt / albert-kahn.fr). “I can’t remember how I first heard about it, but I’m always interested in anything new. I was stunned by its beauty, and I have an affinity for small museums that used to be private residences. Kahn was a wealthy banker who lost everything in 1929, but for ten to fifteen years preceding that, he had, with his money, enabled young people—not professional photographers—to use his state-of-the-art equipment to create a color photographic record of, and for, the people of the world. He wanted to show the French people that we were all the same. The photos are now considered to be the most important collection of early color photographs in the world, and the gardens are beautiful and well maintained. It’s a complete secret—no one really seems to know about it, even the French. People say things like, ‘My aunt took me there when I was ten—what’s it like now?’ ”

A Tale of Two Artists
CATHARINE REYNOLDS

HERE’S A GOOD piece on two artists, Eugène Delacroix and Aristide Maillol, and their eponymous museums in Paris. Neither museum is ever especially crowded, but each is rewarding. I am an especially big fan of Maillol’s 1905 La Méditerranée bronze in the Musée Maillol. Happily you can also see this sculpture in the Musée d’Orsay, which has both a marble version (a copy made during Maillol’s lifetime) and a bronze (a recent cast). The original limestone statue is in Switzerland.

CATHARINE REYNOLDS, introduced previously, was a contributing editor at Gourmet, where this piece originally appeared. Reynolds recently wrote to give me a great recommendation for a restaurant near both museums profiled here: Café Varenne (36 rue de Varenne, 7ème / +33 01 45 48 62 72). “Diane Johnson has been spotted there more than once, alongside all the pols from the Matignon. The food’s the best of home and the regional wines well chosen and sometimes surprising.”

 EVEN THE MOST devoted art connoisseurs can find the Grand Louvre and its ilk just that: big, not to say exhausting. Paris’s small museums—often devoted to the works of a single artist—come as a welcome antidote, offering a keyhole view of creators and their creations.

For me, none is more evocative than the Musée National Eugène Delacroix, tucked in the square on the leafy rue de Furstenberg, a backwater of the sixth arrondissement north of the Église Saint-Germain. Visitors quickly recognize it as the location chosen by director Martin Scorsese for the final, bittersweet scene in The Age of Innocence.

The setting admirably suited Eugène Delacroix, that prolific Romantic giant of mid-nineteenth-century painting, whom Théophile Gautier lauded as a fiery, savage, passionate artist who “depicted the anxieties and aspirations of our period.” Delacroix lived the last five years of his life behind the green gates in the northwest corner of the square.

Delacroix’s color merchant, Étienne-François Haro, had in 1857 located the apartment, with its parade of six rooms caught between an eighteenth-century inner courtyard and a pretty back garden shaded by a chestnut tree. The land had once belonged to the nearby abbey church. It provided a “hermitage” of monastic quiet yet was only a few blocks from the work that had episodically absorbed much of the painter’s creative energy since 1849: the Chapelle des Saints-Anges at the Église Saint-Sulpice. At the side of the garden the landlord had built a pretty studio with a north-facing skylight and lofty walls to the artist’s specifications.

When he moved from the Right Bank into his new abode after Christmas 1857, the ailing fifty-nine-year-old painter found it “decidedly charming,” writing in his Journal that “the view of my small garden and the cheerful appearance of my studio inspire elation.”

The forty thousand annual visitors to the recently spruced-up museum share that response. Although not very many of the furnishings were Delacroix’s own, his spirit pervades the peaceful, domestic-scale rooms. Drawings, small oil sketches—mostly on loan from the Louvre—and holograph letters line the walls and vitrines of the square sage green salon and the adjacent library and bedroom, illustrating the threads of his life: his friendships with George Sand and Gautier; his fashionable philhellenism; and his taste for Shakespeare, Byron, and Sir Walter Scott. His self-portrait in the guise of Ravenswood, hero of The Bride of Lammermoor, exemplifies Romanticism as well as any other image, revealing the twinkling eyes that Odilon Redon claimed “seemed to outshine chandeliers.”

The library’s four hundred volumes were dispersed. Delacroix’s delightful Journal—chockablock with thoughtful musings and extracts from his interests—demonstrates the breadth of his interests and literary gifts that rival his painterly talents. He was an enormously likable man: acute, analytical, affectionate, handsome, wry, courageous, intense, and loyal.

The airy garden studio, with its tall easel and his palettes and paint tables alongside bowls and leather goods he brought back from Morocco, Algeria, and Spain, inspires fantasies. Delacroix had been the rallying point for an art more passionate than David’s and Ingres’s neoclassicism. He exalted imagination. The classical, literary, and biblical vocabulary of his works is today less familiar to many of us and the colors in which he gloried have often proved unstable, yet the sweep and gusto that caused him to break with the era’s prevailing academic canon leave us captivated.

Later in his life, a self-appointed cerberus—a sensible Breton named Jenny Le Guillou—dominated Delacroix’s domestic life. Her portrait, painted shortly after she became his housekeeper in the mid-1830s, today hangs in the bedroom, looking out with keen, thoughtful eyes. At once mother and confidante, Jenny was devoted to his genius, massaging his confidence and providing an unruffled influence, a contrast to the erratic attentions of his worldly mistresses and flirtatious models. Jenny even accompanied him to the seaside and to museums, where Charles Baudelaire once observed them, “he, so elegant, refined and learned,” though not one to disdain explaining “the mysteries of Assyrian sculpture to this excellent woman.”

The Musée Delacroix faithfully evokes these personalities but possesses none of the artist’s great canvases. A half hour’s wandering through its rooms serves as an aide-mémoire, inspiring one to track Delacroix’s paintings across Paris, the museum’s map in hand: from La Barque de Dante, which made his name at the 1822 Salon, to the flamboyant ceiling in the Galerie d’Apollon, both at the Louvre, to the canvases at the Musée d’Orsay; from the Musée Carnavalet to the Petit Palais. Of course, one should see the lyrical yet austere wall paintings at Saint-Sulpice. Their power is apparent, in spite of bad lighting and damage from damp. Take the time to seek out the splendid if troubling Pietà at Saint-Denys-du-Saint-Sacrement in the Marais and to venture an hour’s tour of the Assemblée Nationale to admire the magnificent décors of the Salon du Roi (located off the left side of the debating chamber and therefore, ironically, the principal writing room for French Socialist deputies) and the Bibliothèque.

The art critic Robert Pincus-Witten writes, “Aristide Maillol’s place among the great sculptors has been secure for nearly a century.” Others who are less aesthetically attuned dismiss this nineteenth-century artist’s work with “Seen one, seen ’em all.” Whatever your predispositions, you should plan a visit to the Fondation Dina Vierny–Musée Maillol. You can’t help but walk away convinced of the genius of this man whose oeuvre focused almost exclusively on the female form but who found in it the means of expressing endless near-abstract reflections.

The museum nestles discreetly beside a ninety-foot-wide fountain created by one of the eighteenth century’s leading sculptors, Edme Bouchardon. Little matter that the rue de Grenelle is only sixteen feet wide. The pure theatricality of the grand Fontaine des Quatre-Saisons endears it to Parisians.

First-time visitors to the Musée Maillol determined to gain insight into the artist’s work should head directly upstairs, and seek out the early paintings. For, to the surprise of many, Aristide Maillol came to sculpture via painting and tapestry design.

Born in 1861, this son of a cloth salesman had passed a lonely childhood in Banyuls-sur-Mer—a coastal town not far from the Spanish border in what is called French Catalonia—first distinguishing himself in art at secondary school. At twenty he prevailed on his impoverished family to assure him a twenty-franc monthly stipend and took off for Paris. Initial rejection by the Académie des Beaux-Arts discouraged but did not defeat him. He eventually gained admittance, but the courses proved disappointing, providing little more than technical grounding.

Maillol was more shaped by the friends he made, among them members of the Nabis, a group whose name means “Prophets” in Hebrew. These Neoplatonic artists, who included Maurice Denis, Édouard Vuillard, and Pierre Bonnard, sought to express “Ideas” through their creations, lending substance to their interior visions. Georges Seurat’s color theories also appealed to Maillol, but the artist’s greatest single inspiration seems to have been Paul Gauguin. The museum’s early Maillol canvases, L’Enfant couronné and Le Portrait de Tante Lucie, which date from 1890, glow with backgrounds of Gauguin’s much-favored cadmium yellow.

A chance visit to the Musée de Cluny sparked Maillol’s interest in tapestry. Two years’ feverish tapestry design—the handsome products of which are arrayed at the museum—wrought mayhem with the artist’s eyesight, so he turned to wood carving and then to monumental sculpture.

At the time, Rodin still dominated the latter field. Unlike most of his contemporaries, the Catalan consciously avoided the master’s studio, convinced, in the words of Constantin Brancusi, that “nothing grows in the shade of great trees.” Which is not to suggest that the two did not respect one another; indeed, Rodin actively promoted Maillol’s career.

Paralleling Cézanne’s growth as a painter toward abstraction through simplified volumes, Maillol predicated his sculpture on geometry. He cast aside the nineteenth-century lexicon of classical allegory and symbolism (and the exaggerated sentiment it sustained), seeking to express abstract truths through distilled mass, specifically, the female body. Already in 1896 a bronze such as La Vague reveals the characteristic sumptuous reserve that would mark Maillol’s subsequent work.

The Salon of 1905 proved a turning point in Maillol’s career. Amid the sensation created by the Fauves, Maillol’s La Méditerranée garnered André Gide’s praise and announced the themes that forty years’ work would amplify. Examples of many of Maillol’s monumental sculptures occupy a room on the south end of the museum’s second story. The artist called on the female figure to express a whole range of human thought: the fecundity of Pomone; grief for the dead of World War I; and homage to men as disparate as Cézanne, Debussy, and a French revolutionary, Auguste Blanqui. No Kate Mosses here; sturdy limbs and apple breasts characterize Maillol’s earthy women.

The most familiar face within the museum is also its creator, Dina Vierny. In 1934, the fifteen-year-old Russian-born Ms. Vierny became Maillol’s model and Egeria, inspiring a final decade of creativity: bronzes, sanguines, and oils—some of which are on view in the museum. Still others were produced by Maillol’s friends, for he was in the habit of lending Dina to them, as in the spring of 1941, when he sent her to his lifelong friend Matisse with the message: “I am lending you the inspiration for my work, you will render her in a single line.” The resultant drawings still hang in the museum. His gift for friendship indirectly cost him his life, when, at the age of eighty-three, he set off from Banyuls to visit Raoul Dufy. The car veered off the road, and Maillol died a few weeks later of his injuries.

The Musée Maillol’s very existence is a tribute to his model’s tenacity. As the residual legatee of the Maillol estate, Ms. Vierny set up the foundation, assembled the buildings to house the museum, and installed the works, orchestrating every detail down to the (exquisite) doorknobs and the (brilliantly conceived) lighting and framing.

Ms. Vierny is an unapologetic collector. The museum exhibits some of her French primitives and works by a number of Soviet painters—many of them artists her rue Jacob gallery represented in the postwar period. The rooms are also sprinkled with Degases, Redons, Picassos, and Duchamps.

In the mid-sixties Dina Vierny, not a woman to be gainsaid, gave the state eighteen of Maillol’s monumental sculptures to be displayed in the Jardin du Carrousel west of the Louvre. The area—only ten minutes’ walk away—has recently been replanted to great effect.

Musée National Eugène Delacroix

(6 rue de Furstenberg, 6ème / +33 01 44 41 86 50 / musee-delacroix.fr). Open daily 9:30 a.m. to 5 p.m. except Tuesdays.

Fondation Dina Vierny—Musée Maillol

(59–61 rue de Grenelle, 7ème / +33 01 42 22 59 58 / museemaillol.com). Open daily 11 a.m. to 6 p.m. except Tuesdays.

Saint-Denys-Du-Saint-Sacrement

(68 bis rue de Turenne, 3ème / +33 01 44 54 35 88).

Assemblée Nationale

(33 bis quai d’Orsay, 7ème / +33 01 40 63 99 99 / assemblee-nationale.fr).

Of Cobbles, Bikes, and Bobos
DAVID DOWNIE

AFTER MY RECENT profession of my fondness for stone, it should come as no surprise that I love the cobblestones of Paris. And as this piece attests, cobblestones are as much a part of Paris’s identity as the Eiffel Tower; old as the city itself, they are also a sign of change.

DAVID DOWNIE lives in Paris with his wife, the talented photographer Alison Harris. Together, they have collaborated on a number of books, including Paris, Paris: Journey into the City of Light (Broadway, 2011) and several Little Bookroom Terroir Guides, such as Food Wine: Burgundy (2010), Food Wine: The Italian Riviera & Genoa (2008), and Food Wine: Rome (2009). Downie is also the author of Quiet Corners of Paris (Little Bookroom, 2007) and Paris, City of Night (MEP Foreign, 2009), and he wrote for many years for the former Paris Notes, where this piece first appeared (see interview with Downie on this page).
Sous les pavés, la plage.
Under the paving stones lies a beach.

—Slogan of Paris student rioters in 1968

 WHAT CITY’S STREETS are paved with dreams and peacock-tail mosaics—thousands of them? No prize if you guessed. The classic Paris cobble is an eight- or tencentimeter granite cube, a pavé mosaïque, laid down in patterns road builders call queues de paön. Many of the capital’s 5,993 streets—totaling over one thousand miles—are cobbled, and cover a quarter of Paris’s surface area. That translates to millions of cobbles, often unseen under the asphalt, and always unsung.

Cobblestones are as much a part of Paris’s identity as the Eiffel Tower. Read a classic from Anatole France to Émile Zola, find a riot or revolution, and cobbles will star in the show. The pavements rose in righteous wrath in 1789, 1830, 1848, 1870–71, and again in 1944, when the Nazis decamped. There’s nothing better than cobbles for barricade building or shot-putting. Aux barricades, camarades! And there lies the irony. Cobbles did not disappear when Paris streets were widened, paved, and modernized. Modernization—“Haussmannization”—aimed to rid Paris of medieval alleys, where rioters could ambush troops. The cobbles merely went underground—under the asphalt.

Sound like ancient history? Click forward to times recent enough for hoary fiftysomethings like me to remember. Behind the cobblestone barricades of 1968, rioters shouted not only Aux barricades but also Sous les pavés, la plage—under the paving stones lies a beach. The cryptic chant egged on students to tear up stones as their forebears had, but also hinted at a different world, a beach in the big city.

In reality that “beach” was the sandy layer the cobbles are embedded in—or were. Nowadays sand is mixed with mortar, and joints between cobbles are grouted. Rioters would be hard-pressed to pry them out. That’s telling of our times. So, too, is the current positive value attached to the humble cobblestone, at least for those with green credentials, meaning green politics or a swelling wallet full of greenbacks.

The sometimes idealistic Soixante-huitards of ’68 are as dead today as the barricade builders of rue Royale in 1848. Everyone but commuters, it seems, is embracing cobbles and their petrified relatives as heralds of low-carbon prosperity. Wherever the peacock’s tail is laid down anew or exposed by débitumation—the stripping of bitumen, meaning asphalt—real estate values soar. Neighborhoods are revolutionized not by rioters tearing up cobbles, but by cobble-prone developers, new-paradigm moguls, Greens, and bobos—Paris’s celebrated bohemian bourgeois.

“Cobbleification” is an integral part of pedestrianization and means that streets or neighborhoods are car-free or benefit from restricted traffic flow. In Paris, these areas go by the designations zone piétonnière, aire piétonne, quartier vert, and, most recently, Réseau Vert—a specific pedestrian-cyclist roadway network.

Like other attempts at social engineering through urban planning, Europe’s first and biggest pedestrian zone was created in the 1960s. The Strøget area turned historic Copenhagen into a giant mall, complete with fast-food joints, roughneck street fauna, men dressed as Vikings, and what boosters called “street entertainers”—musicians, performers, artists, jugglers, and fire-swallowers. They’ve become a permanent feature of pedestrian zones worldwide, and a powerful argument against building more of them.

Given the motor-mania of the sixties, Paris was slow to follow Denmark’s lead. The City of Light’s first—and still its largest—pedestrianized area was begun in the mid-1970s. It spread around the former wholesale markets at Les Halles, and the Centre Pompidou at Place Beaubourg. The idea was to redesign European cities such as Paris for cars, creating safe havens for tourists, especially shoppers, in traffic-clogged historic neighborhoods. After the Les Halles/Beaubourg experiment came the Saint-Séverin/Saint-Michel precinct and its wall-to-wall couscous joints and Greek tavernas, an object lesson in how not to master plan a city.

Mallification continued under pro-automobile mayor Jacques Chirac, and the policy only began to morph during the reign of his successor, Jean Tiberi. But with traffic, noise, and air pollution untenable, instead of beginning the process of limiting cars throughout town, Tiberi initiated more refuges. These weren’t the malls of the seventies and eighties, but they maintained the fiction that Paris and cars could live together. The Les Halles/Beaubourg enclave grew, and more were planned and built.

Throughout the late eighties and nineties near rue Montorgueil, northwest of Les Halles, the barricades against traffic went up, creating a fortified city-within-the-city, this time with cobbled streets in white Carrara marble. On the periphery, pneumatically activated telescopic piston bollards—called bornes télescopiques—do today what drawbridges did in the past. They’re linked via audio and video to a remote police squad in a centralized poste de contrôle security HQ, with a 24/7 maintenance crew. Only residents, delivery trucks, and emergency vehicles are allowed into the citadel.

In recent years, the Montorgueil zone has spread to rue Saint-Denis and abutting streets, extending as far as rue Montmartre. Running across it is the first section of Réseau Vert, an experimental linear network of semi-pedestrianized, partly cobbled streets with limited car access. To slow traffic, cobbles also mark intersections and pedestrian crossings elsewhere. For now, Réseau Vert runs from Châtelet to Canal Saint-Martin. It may well prove the twenty-first-century answer to twentieth-century citadel pedestrianization.

Though invented by Green Party planners nearly twenty years ago, Réseau Vert is a weapon in Socialist mayor Bertrand Delanoë’s anti-vehicular arsenal. The days of denial are over. The mayor’s “de-Haussmannization” campaign to keep cars out of town means pain to drivers will increase until they switch to public transportation, bicycles, and walking.

Aptly, a few hundred yards west of the Les Halles/Beaubourg/Montorgueil/Saint-Denis pedestrian zone–cum–Réseau Vert, in rue du Louvre, is Paris’s Direction de la Voirie et des Déplacements. The roadworks department is on the front line in the war against automotive oppression. Here I met architect Yann Le Toumelin, in charge of the Réseau Vert. Mild-mannered, Le Toumelin is too young to remember Les Halles before the wholesale market became a mall. For Parisians under fifty, Les Halles and the Saint-Séverin/Saint-Michel pedestrian zone “have always been there.”

Longevity isn’t always a measure of success. The mistakes of past pedestrianization—lack of access, increased street noise from cafés and musicians, radical demographic shifts, aggravated congestion on perimeter streets—are being studied from the ground up. “Starting with the cobbles,” said Le Toumelin mildly. “Nothing makes a pedestrian area look and feel more seedy than broken or missing paving stones.”

Some stones crack under the weight of a single delivery truck, he explained, adjusting his frameless designer glasses. While sketching on an A3 sheet, he described the various cobbles and flagstones found in Paris. There are the classic pavés mosaïques in peacock-tail patterns. The best are granite—other stones wear too fast. Second most popular is the pavé échantillon, shaped like a bread loaf in a variety—a Whitman’s Sampler—of colors. They’re rectangular, measuring 20 × 14 × 14 centimeters, and laid out side by side. The dalle is a flat, rectangular flagstone and varies widely in size. Usually gray, heavy, and expensive, dalles are used not only on streets but also on sidewalks, such as those of rue de Rivoli or the Île Saint-Louis. A novelty is the dallette, a smaller flagstone measuring 20 × 30 × 15 centimeters. “They’re tricky to keep in place,” Le Toumelin admitted, citing recent problems in the Marais’s rue Saint-Antoine, fronting the celebrated Baroque church of Saint-Paul.

I left the affable architect’s office having learned a new vocabulary, from débitumer and dépoteletisation to axes civilisés, rallentisseur, dos d’ânes, and gendarme endormie. Whether stripping bitumen off cobbles and removing poles from sidewalks, trying to teach civility to Parisian drivers, or installing cobbled speed bumps and sleeping policemen, Le Toumelin and his department have their work cut out. They can design a pedestrian-friendly world with low sidewalks, handsome paving, ingenious one-ways, and dead ends, plus limited, snail’s pace traffic, but the city of Paris lacks police authority to enforce driving and parking regulations. That’s the job of the Préfecture, which controls the Police d’État, often at odds with the mayor. Paris is the only city in France without its own police force.

The oddity of the situation continues: a major source of revenue for the French government is the tax on gasoline. It varies with petroleum prices and exchange rates, but generally yields about a euro per liter, meaning four to six dollars per gallon. So how much does the government really want to reduce car use? Bankruptcy would probably follow if green policies were ever adopted. On the other hand, the city of Paris depends on revenues from parking violations, so the anti-car war the mayor is waging is not only virtuous, it’s profitable.

Curiouser still, city planners have yet to commission studies to determine whether residents in pedestrianized areas are satisfied and whether, as anecdotal evidence clearly suggests, cobbles lead to gentrification—meaning higher real estate prices and radical shifts in resident profiles, street-level business, and noise problems. Once a policy has been adopted on high, the man in the street either adapts or moves out. Why are there no statistics showing how the demographics of cobbled neighborhoods shift? It’s hard to get eye-witness reports before and after cobbling, for a simple reason: locals of pre-cobble days disappear.

At the top of rue Montorgueil near the Sentier Métro station, the date 1991 is spelled out in cobbles. I remember watching the road workers laying them down, and wondering what Carrara marble had to do with Paris. Back then Alison and I used a ragtag gym in a tumbledown building off this street. Reportedly it was the oldest gym in Paris. We wagered ourselves how long it would be before the bobos showed up. We’ve lived in Paris for decades, in the Marais for over twenty-five years, and have witnessed the changes cobbles bring.

As I strolled down rue Montorgueil on a recent visit, heading toward Les Halles, I couldn’t help being impressed by the chain store bakeries and cafés, designer boutiques, and trendy restaurants, not to mention the offices of Web consultants, artists’ studios, and real estate agencies, most on side streets. Never mind that the Carrara marble pavements wouldn’t stick, and have been replaced by classic cobbles.

It was reassuring to find a handful of traditional places—among them the landmark pastry shop Stohrer, at 51 rue Montorgueil, with a nineteenth-century storefront and painted ceilings. They invented the baba au rhum and puits d’amour. I always bought sweets here after a workout—the gym was next door. The gym is no longer. A luxury apartment complex has replaced it.

The landmark oyster eatery from the mid-1800s, Au Rocher de Cancale (at no. 78), still has its wonderful murals of birds and boozers, and carved wooden oyster decorations outside. Lounging on sidewalk tables, thirtysomethings half hidden by cigarette smoke pecked at their laptops, hooked up via Wi-Fi. Indoors a couple of codgers rustled newspapers and looked distinctly out of place.

The totally un-PC façade of Au Beau Noir (no. 59) is still around, and new neighborhood regulars I buttonholed find the establishment’s dry-cleaning services handy. Further down the road, historic restaurant L’Escargot Montorgueil appears little changed, with its private dining rooms and cozy décor, though most of the snails are imported from eastern Europe nowadays, and the longtime clientele is gone.

For better or worse, the feel of the neighborhood has changed, utterly. As one curmudgeonly butcher told me, Montorgueil has gone from a rough-and-ready “authentic” market street to a certified bobo playground, preferred, it’s claimed, by the gauche caviar. It’s a fact that the Socialist party’s local HQ is on the corner of rues Montorgueil and Léopold-Bellan, but, ironically, given the rents, you have to wonder how much longer the PS will be able to afford it. Real estate sells for 7,500 euros per square meter in the Montorgueil citadel, up tenfold since pre-cobble days, and a thousand euros a month to rent a closet-size studio is typical, among Paris’s highest. There’s no question of chicken or egg. As with Les Halles/Beaubourg/Saint-Denis, the cobbles came first.

Closer to home, I toured the Marais’s newest pocket-size pedestrianized areas, my eyes on the peacocks’ tails and Whitman’s Samplers of cobblestones, not to mention the dalles and dallettes. Most of the Marais was gentrified in the 1980s and ’90s without the help of cobbleification—exception made for streets and squares like Place du Marché Sainte-Catherine. But it took the recent repaving and semi-pedestrianization of the old Jewish neighborhood on and around rue des Rosiers, and on rue Saint-Antoine, to complete the process. The boutiques stand cheek by jowl and real estate prices have spiraled up, apparently unaffected by the Great Recession of 2008–10. So far, some longtime residents have held on, anchored by religion, family, and culture. More walkers and bikers than ever crowd in, yet complaints about increased noise are few: the street has always been chaotic.

After months of jackhammering and snarled traffic, another semi-pedestrianized zone was born in 2008 on rue Saint-Antoine, fronting Saint-Paul. If Yann Le Toumelin is right, rues des Rosiers and Saint-Antoine are the way of the future. They’re part of Réseau Vert. Instead of a citadel with piston bollards—which often malfunction, damaging vehicles—other means will be used. They include easy and cheap traffic signals, 15 kph signage, cobbles, and traffic cops to bar the unauthorized. Sidewalks have been widened and lowered, and the poles that keep cars at bay—but hinder strolling—have been removed. No parking is allowed—in theory. Civic sense is key and plainly doesn’t always work. The Saint-Paul experiment and the Réseau Vert in general often feel like war zones, with frustrated drivers facing outraged bikers and pedestrians. Perhaps war is part of the process.

New-generation cobbled areas can only work in tandem with car-hostile roads flanking them, and bikes are essential. The Vélib rental scheme—in which riders pick up and drop off bikes at dozens of parking areas—is astonishingly popular, peaking at over one hundred thousand users a day. With armies of walkers and bikers, drivers will have to yield—or so the theory goes. War? Aux barricades, camarades!

Cobbled, semi-pedestrianized areas continue to crop up around town, from rue Cler in the seventh arrondissement to rue de la Forge-Royale in the eleventh and rue Cavallotti in the eighteenth. If—a big “if”—it is fully implemented, the Réseau Vert roadway network will link these green islands. Much depends on who sits in the mayor’s office. Another irony is, were the whole of Paris to be de-Haussmannized as Mayor Delanoë plans, the first generation of pedestrian citadels might morph back toward normality. They would be absorbed into a saner, gentler, less car-clogged cityscape. No one expects real estate prices to go down within them, or bobos to move out. Once the old-timers have left, they do not return. Meanwhile, investors are watching to see where the cobbles—and bike lanes—are headed next.

Perfection Squared
ANDRÉ ACIMAN

LIKE THE AUTHOR, I, too, think the Place des Vosges may be the world’s most harmonious urban spot. It is also a spot where I recommend first-time visitors go on their first day in Paris, combined with a visit to the nearby Musée Carnavalet, the official museum of the history of Paris. Though the place was originally called Place Royale, it acquired the name Vosges after the first French département to pay its taxes.

The best ways to enjoy the place are to walk all around it under the arcades and to sit for a while on one of the benches—both methods are, in fact, essential to grasping the rhythm of the space, as each reveals different aspects. After you’ve strolled and sat, then you may eat, shop, and browse. I have enjoyed many happy hours at Ma Bourgogne under the arcades (no credit cards accepted; ma-bourgogne.fr), I love the Maison de Victor Hugo (at 6 place des Vosges, and there is never anyone else there), and I have parted with many euros at the Librairie du Patrimoine in the Hôtel de Sully (reached from the southwest corner of the place and filled with unique items, cards, and books about Paris, France, and beyond).

ANDRÉ ACIMAN is a professor of literature and the author of many books, including the novels Eight White Nights (2010) and Call Me by Your Name (2007), the memoir Out of Egypt (1994), and False Papers: Essays on Exile and Memory (2000), all published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux. He edited Letters of Transit: Reflections on Exile, Identity, Language, and Loss (New Press, 1999) and contributed to Condé Nast Traveler’s Room with a View (Assouline, 2010).

 EVEN TODAY, AFTER many years, there are moments when your eyes could almost be fooled—when they’ll still believe that however you wandered into this huge quadrangle called the Place des Vosges, you’ll never find your way out. Wherever you turn your gaze, this mini-Paris in the heart of old Paris, and perhaps the most beautiful urban spot in the world, seems to turn its back not just on the rest of the world but on the rest of Paris as well. You step in—and time stops.

At night, when the Place des Vosges grows quiet and traffic comes to a halt, the arched entrances under the Pavillons du Roi and de la Reine blend into the darkness, as do the two narrow side streets tucked to the northeast and northwest of the Place, the rue des Francs-Bourgeois and the rue du Pas-de-la-Mule. With no apparent means out, it is impossible not to feel that you are indeed back in this self-contained, self-sufficient seventeenth-century enclave, just as the original founders of the square, four hundred years ago, wished to be locked in a Paris of their own devising—a Paris that had the very best of Paris, a Paris that hadn’t quite been invented yet and of which this was a promise. Recent restoration has been so successful that the Place looks better today than it has in three centuries and gives a very good picture of the Paris its ancien régime founders envisioned.

On the Place des Vosges, you can almost touch old Paris. At midnight, upon leaving L’Ambroisie (at no. 9)—among the best and most expensive restaurants in Paris, in the building where Louis XIII stayed during the 1612 inauguration of the square—you don’t just step into seventeenth-century Paris but into a Paris where the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries are superimposed over earlier and later times no less beguilingly than Atget’s vieux Paris photos can still cast albuminous sepia tones over Y2K Paris. The footsteps heard along the dark arcades may not even belong to a living soul but to shadows from the past—say, Victor Hugo, who lived at 6 place des Vosges between 1832 and 1848, or Cardinal Richelieu, who two centuries earlier lived diagonally across the square (at no. 21), or the occasional ruffian who would turn up in this affluent enclave and terrorize the ladies. Turn around and you might just as easily spot the fleeting silhouette of the notorious seventeenth-century courtesan Marion Delorme (at no. 11), heading home under the cover of the arcades; or of France’s most illustrious preacher, Bossuet (at no. 17); or of Madame de Rambouillet (at no. 15), whose salon was a who’s who of seventeenth-century France. Marion had been Cardinal Richelieu’s mistress once but was now accompanied by Cardinal de Retz, one of France’s most devoted ladies’ men. An habitué of the Place des Vosges, Retz, the turbulent antimonarchist, had been the lover of both Marie-Charlotte de Balzac d’Entragues (at no. 23) and the Princesse de Guéméné (at no. 6).

Many aristocratic ladies who lived on the square and around the Marais were known as précieuses: women who adopted an overrefined, highly conceited form of speech that, despite their cultivated delicacy in attitude and taste, by no means entailed an equally cultivated sense of morality. They frequently had several lovers, and the Princesse de Guéméné was no exception. She loved the unruly Count of Montmorency-Boutteville, who had also been the lover of Madame de Sablé (at no. 5) and who, following a terrible duel à six in 1627 in front of no. 21, the home of Cardinal Richelieu (who had made dueling a capital offense in France), was subsequently captured and beheaded. Such would be the fate of two of the Princesse’s other lovers.

Nothing better illustrates these crisscrossed, overlapping, and at times simultaneous passions than the loves of another précieuse, Marguerite de Béthune (at no. 18). She was the daughter of the Duc de Sully, King Henry IV’s superintendent of finances, who was instrumental in planning the Place des Vosges (his Hôtel de Sully still feeds into the Place through a tiny, near-inconspicuous door at no. 7). Marguerite had been the mistress of both the Duc de Candale (at no. 12) and the Marquis d’Aumont (at no. 13). Since the even numbers on the Place des Vosges are located to the east of the Pavillon du Roi, and the odd to the west, it is possible to suppose that when she was with one she could easily manage to think of, if not spy on, the other.

Throughout its history, the very thought of the Place des Vosges has instantly conjured images of grand passion and grand intrigue. The importance that the Place des Vosges has in the French imagination, like that of Versailles, may explain why French literature, from the seventeenth century on, has never quite been able to disentangle love from its surrogate, double-dealing, or courtship from diplomacy, underscored as they all are by the cruelest and crudest form of self-interest. Such irony escaped no one, and certainly not the disabused courtiers of précieux society.

Few of them had anything kind to say about love or about the women they loved. Cardinal de Retz’s racy and tempestuous Mémoires were most exquisitely vicious in this regard. (Of his ex-mistress Madame de Montbazon, he wrote, “I have never known anyone who, in her vices, managed to have so little regard for virtue.”) And yet his Mémoires are dedicated to one of the précieux world’s busiest writers, his good friend Madame de Sévigné, born at 1 bis place des Vosges. Sévigné was herself a very close friend of the Duchesse de Longueville, Madame de Sablé, the Duc de La Rochefoucauld, and Madame de La Fayette, the author of Europe’s first modern novel, La Princesse de Clèves. To show how intricately interwoven this world was, one has only to recall that La Rochefoucauld may have had a platonic relationship with La Fayette but he most certainly did not with the Duchesse de Longueville, with whom he had a son and for whom the disillusioned and embittered La Rochefoucauld probably continued to ache until the very end of his days. Known as one of the most beautiful women of the period, the fair-haired Duchesse led as blustery a life as Cardinal de Retz—first as a lover, then as a warrior, and finally as a religious woman. It was because of her bitter feud with her rival, Madame de Montbazon, that another duel took place on the square, between descendants of the Guise and the Coligny families. Each man may have gallantly taken the side of one of the two women, but after about a century of feuding between the Catholic Guises and the Protestant Colignys there was enough gall for another duel. It took Coligny almost five months to die of his wounds.

It is said that the Duchesse de Longueville watched the duel from the windows of 18 place des Vosges, the home of Marguerite de Béthune, the woman whose lovers’ pavilions faced each other. The quarrel between the Duchesse de Longueville and Madame de Montbazon reads like a novel filled with slander, malice, jealousy, and spite. Scandalmongering was a favorite occupation, and the preferred weapon was not so much the sword as the letter: dropped, intercepted, recopied, falsely attributed, and purloined letters were ferried back and forth, leaving a trail that invariably led to the loss of reputations and, just as frequently, of life—Coligny’s in this instance—and ultimately to civil unrest. At the risk of oversimplifying, tensions mounted to such a pitch that many of those who had anything to do with the Place des Vosges before the middle of the seventeenth century eventually joined the Fronde, the antimonarchist aristocratic campaign of 1648–53. It was the last aristocratic revolt against the monarchy, and Louis XIV, the Sun King, never forgot it. To ensure that the aristocracy never again rose against him, he made certain that almost every one of its members moved to Versailles.

Like its storied residents, the Place des Vosges remains a tangle of the most capricious twists in urban memory. Known initially as the Place Royale in 1605, it became the Place des Fédérés after the Revolution in 1792; the Place de l’Indivisibilité in 1793; and then the Place des Vosges in 1800, under Napoléon. It resumed its first name in 1814, after the restoration of the monarchy, and lost it once more to the Place des Vosges in 1831. After yet another revolution, it became once again the Place Royale in 1852, and finally the Place des Vosges in 1870. The Place teemed with intellectuals, writers, aristocrats, salons, and courtesans. It witnessed generations of schemes, rivalries, and duels, the most famous of these being the duel of 1614, known as “the night of the torches,” between the Marquis de Rouillac and Philippe Hurault, each flanked by his second, everyone wielding a sword in one hand and a blazing torch in the other. Three were killed; Rouillac alone survived, and lived thereafter at 2 place des Vosges.

I come to the Place des Vosges to make believe that I belong, that this could easily become my home. Paris is too large a city, and time is too scarce for me to ever become a full resident—but this square is just right. After a few days, I am at home. I know every corner, every restaurant, and every grocer and bookstore beyond the square. Even faces grow familiar, as does the repertoire of the high-end street entertainers and singers who come to perform under the arcades every Saturday: the pair singing duets by Mozart, the tango and fox-trot dancers, the Baroque ensembles, the pseudo-Django jazz guitarist, and the eeriest countertenor–mock castrato bel canto singer I’ve ever heard, each standing behind stacks of their own CDs.

For lunch, I’ve grown to like La Mule du Pape on the rue du Pas-de-la-Mule, scarcely off the square: light fare, fresh salads, excellent desserts. And early in the morning, I like to come to Ma Bourgogne, on the northwest corner of the square, and have breakfast outside, under the arcades. I’ve been here three times already, and I am always among the first to sit down. I think I have my table now, and the waiter knows I like café crème and a buttered baguette with today’s jam. I even get here before the bread arrives from the baker’s. I sit at the corner of this empty square and watch schoolboys plod their way diagonally across the park, one after the other, sometimes in pairs or clusters, each carrying a heavy satchel or a briefcase strapped around his shoulders. I can easily see my sons doing this. Yes, it does feel right.

Then, just as I am getting used to the square and am busily making it my home—tarts, salads, fresh produce, baguette, jam, coffee—I look up, spot the imposing row of redbrick pavilions with their large French windows and slate roofs, and realize that this, as I always knew but had managed to forget, is the most beautiful spot in the civilized world.

Parisians, of course, have always known this, and during the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries routinely overwhelmed foreign dignitaries by escorting them to the Place before returning them to the business of their visit. What must have struck these foreigners was something perhaps more dazzling and arresting than French magnificence or French architecture. For the Place des Vosges is not magnificent in the way, say, Versailles, or the Louvre, or the Palais Royal are magnificent. And the thirty-six cloned, slate-roofed, redbrick and white-stone “row house” pavilions—with the interconnecting arcades, or promenoir, running the length of all four sidewalks of a square no larger than the size of a Manhattan city block—can by no stretch of the imagination be called a miracle of seventeenth-century architecture. As with any cour carrée, what is striking is not necessarily each unit but the repetition thirty-six times of the same unit, many of which already boast a small square courtyard within. It is the symmetry of the square that casts a spell, not each segment—except that here the symmetry is projected on so grand a scale that it ends up being as disorienting and as humbling as quadratic symmetry is in Descartes or contrapuntal harmonies are in Bach. If the French have nursed an unflagging fondness for Cartesian models, it is not because they thought nature was framed in quadrants but, rather, because their desire to fathom it, to harness it, and ultimately to explain it as best they could led them to chop up everything into pairs and units of two. Drawing and quartering may have been one of the worst forms of execution, but the French mania for symmetry has also given us palaces and gardens and the most spectacular urban planning imaginable, the way it gave us something that the French have treasured since long before the Enlightenment and of which they are still unable to divest themselves even when they pretend to try: a passion for clarity.

It is hard to think of anyone who lived on or around the Place des Vosges during the first half of the seventeenth century who didn’t treasure this one passion above all others. Even in their loves—hapless and tumultuous and so profoundly tragic as they almost always turned out to be—the French displayed intense levelheadedness when they came to write about them. They had to dissect what they felt, or what they remembered feeling, or what they feared others thought about their feelings. They were intellectuals in the purest—and perhaps coarsest—sense of the word. It was not what they saw that was clear; human passions seldom are. It was how they expressed what they saw that was so fiercely lucid. In the end, they preferred dissecting human foibles to doing anything about them. They chatted their way from one salon to the next, and on the Place des Vosges this was not difficult to do. Almost every pavilion on the square had a précieuse eager to host her little salon, or ruelle, in her bedroom. It is difficult to know whether there was more action than talk in these intimate ruelles. What is known is that everyone excelled at turning everything into talk. They intellectualized everything.

And it shows everywhere. Charles Le Brun, an ardent disciple of Descartes, remains one of the principal decorators of the Place des Vosges. His style is frequently considered Baroque; yet few would argue that if anything was alien to the Baroque sensibility it was Cartesian thinking. On the Place des Vosges, the dominance of intellect over excess is never hard to detect. Yet there are still telltale signs of sublimated trouble. The street level and first and second floors of every pavilion may have been the picture of architectural harmony and were built according to very strict specification; there were to be no deviations from the model supplied by King Henry IV’s designers (often thought to be Androuet du Cerceau and Claude Chastillon). But the dormer windows on the top floors do not always match; they are each builder’s tiny insurrection against the master plan.

Henry IV, who favored the building of the Place, remains the most beloved French king: le bon roi or le vert galant (the ladies’ man), as he is traditionally called, famous for his wit, good cheer, sound judgment, and all-around hearty appetite. Every French peasant, he said, would have a chicken in his pot each Sunday. When told that he could become a French king provided he converted from Protestantism to Catholicism, he did not bat an eyelash. Paris, he declared, was well worth a Mass. Like the Place Dauphine, the square’s cousin on Île de la Cité, the Place des Vosges is built in a style that is recognizably Henry IV: all brick and stone facings, brick being, like the personality of Henry IV, down-to-earth, practical, basic, made for all times and all seasons. Though the Place des Vosges is elegant and posh, and is hardly spare, there is nothing palatial here. It also reflects the spirit of the high-ranking officials, entrepreneurs, and financiers to whom the king and his finance minister, Sully, had parceled out the land in 1605 on condition that each build a home, at his own expense, according to a predetermined design. Some of them were born rich; others had made vast fortunes and, no doubt, intended both to keep them and to flaunt them. But like their king, they were neither garish nor gaudy; wealth hadn’t gone to their heads, just as power hadn’t gone to their king’s. Both forms of intoxication were due to happen, of course, but in another generation and under a very different monarch: Henry IV’s grandson Louis XIV, the Sun King.

The grounds on which Henry IV decided to build the new square had once been the site of the Hôtel des Tournelles, famous for its turrets, where King Henry II had died in 1559 as a result of a wound inflicted during a friendly joust with a man bearing the rather foreign-sounding name of Gabriel de Montgomery. Following Henry II’s death, his wife, Catherine de Médicis, had the Hôtel des Tournelles razed. To this day, Catherine is regarded as a mean, cunning, and vindictive queen, whose ugliest deed was the St. Bartholomew’s Day Massacre of 1572, during which hundreds of French Protestants were put to the sword. It is another one of those ironies of history that the Protestant Henry IV, who had hoped to placate French Catholics by marrying Catherine and Henry II’s daughter Queen Margot, was not only unable to forestall the massacre, which erupted immediately after his wedding, but would himself be felled by a religious fanatic forty years later, a few blocks from where Henry II had died. He thus did not live to see his square completed.

Henry IV and Sully were far too practical to be called visionaries, but surely there must have been something of the visionary in each. They had originally intended the arcades to house common tradesmen, cloth manufacturers, and skilled foreign workers, most likely subsidized by the government. The idea was a good one, since Sully, like France’s other finance ministers, had had the wisdom to attract foreign workers to help France produce domestically and ultimately export what it would otherwise have had to purchase abroad. But in this case it proved too impractical. This, after all, was prime real estate. It was so exclusive an area that, rather than design a square whose buildings would boast façades looking out on the rest of Paris, the planners turned these elegant forefronts in on themselves—as though the enjoyment of façades were reserved not for the passerby, who might never even suspect the existence of this secluded Place, but strictly for the happy few.

The Place des Vosges has all the makings of a luxurious inner courtyard turned outside in, which is exactly what Corneille saw in his comedy La Place Royale. Everyone lives close together, everyone moves in the same circles, and everyone knows everyone else’s business. Look out your window and you’ll spy everyone’s dirty laundry. And yet don’t be so sure, either: as Madame de La Fayette said of life at court, here nothing is ever as it seems. The Place des Vosges was, as Corneille had instantly guessed, not just the ideal gold coast but the ideal stage.

None of the residents, however, had any doubt that they belonged at the center of the universe. They were prickly, caustic, arrogant, querulous, spiteful, frivolous, urbane, and, above all things, as self-centered as they ultimately turned out to be self-hating. Like the square itself, this world was so turned in on itself that if it was consumed by artifice, it was just as driven by the most corrosive and disquieting forms of introspection. No society, not even the ancient Greeks, had ever sliced itself open so neatly, so squarely, to peek into the mouth of the volcano, and then stood there frozen, gaping at its worst chimeras. They may have frolicked in public, but most were pessimists through and through. The irony that they shot at the world was nothing compared with that which they saved for themselves.

La Rochefoucauld, who wrote in the most chiseled sentences known to history, expressed this better than any of his contemporaries. His maxims are short, penetrating, and damning. “Our virtues are most frequently nothing but vices disguised.” “We always like those who admire us; we do not always like those whom we admire.” “If we had no faults, we would not take so much pleasure in noticing them in others.” “We only confess our little faults to conceal our larger ones.” “In the misfortune of our best friends, we find something that is not unpleasing.”

It is hard to hear the echo of so much pessimism or intrigue on the square today. Art galleries, shops, restaurants, and even a tiny synagogue and a nursery school line the arcades. Access to the Place des Vosges is no longer restricted to those who possess a key—which used to be the case. Now, on a warm summer afternoon, one of the four manicured lawns—French gardens are always divided into four parts—is made available to the public, and here, lovers and parents with strollers can lounge about on the green in a manner that is still not quite characteristically Parisian. The Place lies at the heart of cultural activity in the Marais. Two blocks away is the Bastille Opéra; a few blocks west is the Musée Carnavalet; to the north, the Jewish Museum and the Picasso Museum. The rue Vieille-du-Temple, one of the most picturesque streets in the Marais, crosses what is still a Jewish neighborhood.

In the evening, the square teems with people who remind me that the SoHo look is either originally French or the latest export from New York. In either case, it suggests that everything is instantly globalized in today’s world. And yet, scratch the surface … and it’s still all there.

Which is why I wait until night. For then, sitting at one of the tables at the restaurant Coconnas, under the quiet arcades of the Pavillon du Roi, one can watch the whole square slip back a few centuries. Everyone comes alive—all the great men and women who walked the same pavement: Marion Delorme, Cardinal de Retz, the Duchesse de Longueville, and especially La Rochefoucauld, who would arrive at the Place des Vosges in the evening, his gouty body trundling ever so cautiously under the arcades as he headed toward no. 5 to visit Madame de Sablé. No doubt his gaze wandered to no. 18, where more than a decade earlier his former mistress, the Duchesse de Longueville, had watched from her window as Coligny championed her cause and then died for it. He and Cardinal de Retz and the Duchesse de Longueville had joined the Fronde in their younger days, only to end up writing lacerating character assassinations of one another. Now the most defeated and disenchanted man in the world—putting up a front, calling his mask a mask, which is how he hid his sorrows in love, in politics, and in everything else—La Rochefoucauld would arrive here to try to put a less sinister spin on his tragic view of life by chiseling maxim after maxim in the company of friends. “True love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen.” “If we judge love by the majority of its consequences, it is more like hatred than like friendship.” “No disguise can forever hide love when it exists, or simulate it when it doesn’t.”

I think I hear the clatter of horses’ hooves bringing salon guests in their carriage, the brawling and catcalling of hooligans wandering into the square, the yelp of stray dogs, the squeak of doors opened halfway and then just as swiftly shut. I can see lights behind the French windows. Then I must imagine these lights going out, one by one, followed by the sound of doors and of footsteps and carriage wheels on the cobblestones again, not everyone eager to run into anyone else, yet everyone forced to exchange perfunctory pleasantries under the arcades, as some head home two or three doors away or pretend to head home but head elsewhere instead.

An hour later the square is quiet.

On my last evening in Paris, I drop by L’Ambroisie. It’s almost closing time. I have come to inquire about the name of the dessert whiskey they had offered us at the end of our previous evening’s meal. The waiter does not recall.

He summons the sommelier, who appears, like an actor, from behind a thick curtain. The man seems pleased by the question. The whiskey’s name is Poit Dhubh, aged twenty-one years. Before I know it he brings out two bottles, pours a generous amount from one, and then asks me to sample the other. These, it occurs to me, are the best things I’ve drunk during a week in France. I find it strange, I say, that I should end my visit by discovering something Scottish and not French. One of the waiters standing nearby comes forward and says it is not entirely surprising. Why so, I ask? “Had it not been for the Scotsman Montgomery, who by accident killed Henry II during a joust, the Hôtel des Tournelles would never have been leveled and therefore the Place des Vosges would never have been built!”

I leave the restaurant. There are people awaiting taxis outside. Everyone is speaking English. Suddenly, from nowhere, four youths appear on skateboards, speeding along the gallery, yelling at one another amid the deafening rattle of their wheels, mindless of everyone and everything in their path as they course through the arcades. As though on cue, all bend their knees at the same time and, with their palms outstretched like surfers about to take a dangerously high wave, they tip their skateboards, jumping over the curb and onto the street, riding all the way past the cruel Rouillac’s house, past the bend around Victor Hugo’s, finally disappearing into the night.

Only then can I imagine the sound of another group of young men. They are shouting—some cursing, some urging one another on, still others hastily ganging up for the kill. I can hear the ring of rapiers being drawn, the yells of the frightened, everyone on the Place suddenly alert, peering out their windows, petrified. I look out and try to imagine how the torches of the four swordsmen must have swung in pitch darkness on that cold night in January 1614. How very, very long ago it all seems, and yet—as I look at the lights across the park—it feels like yesterday. And like all visitors to the Place des Vosges, I wonder whether this is an instance of the present intruding on the past or of the past forever repeated in the present. But then, it occurs to me, this is also why one comes to stay here for a week: not to forget the present, or to restore the past, but to forget that they are so profoundly different.

Solar-Powered Timekeeping in Paris
SUSAN ALLPORT

JUST AS MUCH as I love stone, I also love sundials and I love that the author of this piece went in search of some with her husband in Paris. I’ve seen two that she mentions, and I intend to track down the others, but not mentioned here is one of my favorites, at 19 rue du Cherche-Midi. It is actually a stone bas-relief of a man with a beard holding a tablet of a sundial. On the other side of the tablet, helping to hold it up, is a cupid. The man’s right hand has come to rest at a spot where the line for noon and the figure XII are missing, and the inscription below this reads, “Je Cherche Midi” (I seek noon). One description I’ve read explains that this is a reference to the Italian hours, which were once counted from sunset to sunset, and an allusion to the phrase “chercher midi à quatorze heures.” The phrase implies that to waste time in a ridiculous venture is to seek the impossible: though the hour of noon might fall at sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen o’clock depending on the hour of sunset and the time of year, it could never be at fourteen in Paris due to its northern latitude. The rue du Cherche-Midi has had this name since 1595, likely due to the sundial.

SUSAN ALLPORT is the author of The Primal Feast: Food, Sex, Foraging, and Love (Crown, 2000), A Natural History of Parenting (Harmony, 1997), and Sermons in Stone: the Stone Walls of New England and New York (Norton, 1990), among others. She contributed this piece to the travel section of the New York Times.

 I CAN’T IMAGINE that the Musée Carnavalet in Paris sells too many copies of the book Cadrans solaires de Paris—Sundials of Paris—an inventory of more than one hundred of the city’s sundials. But when it sold one to my husband, David, he was immediately hooked. And so David and I began tracking down these timekeepers of old when we celebrated our twentyfifth wedding anniversary in February 2002, continuing the mission in January the following year.

There are many ways to look at Paris—through its architecture, history, museums, cafés, or street life. Sundials are one of the most esoteric. But somehow it was fitting to be thinking about time on an anniversary that few would ever count on celebrating. Moreover, searching for sundials required skills of each of us: my husband’s excellent sense of direction and my high school French, which allowed us to make sense of the tome that was our guide.

As I discovered when I sallied out alone to revisit a nearby sundial and found myself walking in confused circles—or as David discovered when he arrived at the location of a sundial to learn that access required written authorization—we both were absolutely necessary for this hunt, a mutual dependence that is reflective (but that we often chafe at!) of the rest of our life.

And a hunt it was, a citywide scavenger hunt, taking us to places we would not otherwise have gone: a corner of the Jardin des Plantes, the botanical garden in the fifth arrondissement where the architect, Edme Verniquet, had placed a folly of a sundial within a maze on top of a hill; or the center of the Place de la Concorde, where we saw from the bronze lines radiating out into the busy roundabout and from the numerals embedded into the sidewalks that the obelisk, transported from Egypt in 1833, had been transformed by the French into the gnomon of a giant sundial, a project that was started in 1939, then abandoned during the war and never completed.

David loved this part of the business, finding our quarry, in which I felt like a small, obedient child, clueless as to where I was heading. But even I was taken by the Alice in Wonderland aspect of the sundial at the Hôtel de Sully in the Marais, examined on our second visit. We entered the building, the home of the Ancient Monuments and Historic Buildings Commission, from the busy rue Saint-Antoine and walked through one courtyard into a quieter, interior courtyard with a lovely parterre garden. Then, after viewing the simple sundial on the handsome seventeenth-century rear façade, we popped into the Place des Vosges through a small door in the garden’s outside wall. Without this excuse of a sundial, we might never have discovered this delightful shortcut through the Marais.

Without question, however, the sundials themselves are fascinating, and many are inscribed with such apt reflections on the nature of time that they were worth seeking out for those snippets of truth alone. One might already be familiar with the inscription on top of the recently regilded sundial in the center court of the Sorbonne, Sicut Umbra Dies Nostri—Our Days Pass Like a Shadow—but standing below that dial as the shadow of its style moves slowly from one Roman numeral to the next really does give one that feeling.

The afternoon dial on the Convent of Mercy on the rue des Archives in the third arrondissement advises Utere Dum Lyceat, to make the most of your time. And at the Palais de Justice, on the side of the building on the Quai des Orfèvres, a bas-relief of Time with his scythe and Justice with her sword and scales proclaims Hora Fugit Stat Jus—The Hour Flees; Justice Stays—a reminder of both the strength and the fragility of the law, given the sham trials that occurred inside this same building during the French Revolution.

Not all the inscriptions are somber. A whimsical blue chicken on a sundial at 4 rue de l’Abreuvoir in Montmartre clucks, “Quand tu sonneras, je chanteray”—“When you ring, I sing,” a humorous reference to the time when chickens were alarm clocks. Sundials ask us to contemplate not only time and its passage, but also when and why humans began to divide time into hours, a development that was not, at first, universally embraced, as the Roman comic playwright Plautus (circa 200 BC) made clear, condemning the man who set up a sundial in the marketplace “to cut and hack my day so wretchedly into small pieces.”

Yet surely it was inevitable that humans would associate the movement of shadows with the passing of time, then use those shadows both to understand the earth’s place in the universe (some sundials show the signs of the zodiac and the months of the year) and mark the hours. And inevitable, too, that those who knew the time (the word “gnomon” is derived from a Greek word meaning “one who knows”) would use that knowledge to control the actions of others.

In Paris, the earliest sundials are on churches, where they have long enabled passersby to know the time of prayers. One of the simplest but most dramatic is the noon mark on the fifteenth-century Église Saint-Étienne-du-Mont on the rue Clovis in the Latin Quarter. On one of the church’s flying buttresses, it falls like a plumb line from the gargoyle above.

  

  

What I found most interesting about sundials, though, came to me only gradually as David and I crisscrossed the city this January. First, there is the fact that it is mighty hard to tell time this way. (And not just because sundials are useless at night.) Three out of four of our days in Paris were cloudy, so no shadows were cast. And many sundials are, by necessity of their locations, either morning or afternoon dials. So even when we had successfully found a dial—and were blessed with the sun—it was often the wrong dial for that time of day.

I don’t know what the Parisians of old did when they happened upon a sundial that was actually “ringing” the hour, but when my husband and I had our first sighting, at the Sorbonne, where an obliging guard had allowed us into the courtyard, we celebrated with a long lunch of céleri rémoulade and steak frites nearby at Le Balzar. We missed out on more sightings that afternoon, but Paris is, after all, much more than the sum of its dials.

Clouds are one reason clocks quickly replaced sundials once clocks became reliable (for hundreds of years the two coexisted because sundials were necessary to check and reset mechanical timepieces). But there’s another, far subtler reason that has to do with accuracy. Sundials, as it turns out, are too accurate for human affairs. They tell the true time, the exact time, as the sun passes overhead. This sounds like a virtue, and it was until people began to travel greater and greater distances in shorter and shorter amounts of time. Then they needed a less exact time, a mean or moyen time, where noon is noon for an entire city or country. Later, they needed a daylight saving time to get the most out of summer’s long days. Clocks and watches can tell these fictional times, inventions of humans for humans, but sundials can’t.

The last sundial we saw on these esoteric visits, perfect for two individuals who hadn’t quite settled yet on a moyen time, was one of our favorites. It was a bas-relief of a girl’s face placed on the side of a building near the Sorbonne at 27 rue Saint-Jacques by Salvador Dalí in 1968. At first, we walked right by this blue-eyed girl with her flaming eyebrows and simple gnomon, but then we remembered to lever le nez, as our book says—look up—and this charming face told us her time.

Station to Station
BARBARA DINERMAN

I PREFER TRAVELING by train above all other modes of transportation, and arriving in or departing from a grand train station is much more exciting to me than any airport. A tour of Paris’s train stations is also a tour of the city in the years around the turn of the twentieth century. If you have time to see only one, you won’t be disappointed in choosing the Gare de Lyon, home of the beautiful and evocative Le Train Bleu restaurant.

BARBARA DINERMAN is a former resident of Paris and returns frequently. She has written regularly on interior design, travel, and art for Veranda, Robb Report, and Art & Antiques. In 1997, she won an annual journalism award from the American Society of Interior Designers. Dinerman is also the author of award-winning short stories and a novel, H (iUniverse, 2007). The following piece was originally published in 1999.

 WE DON’T USUALLY think of such utilitarian buildings as train stations when we plan our explorations of Paris. But the six great stations extant today are certainly worth our inspection. They’re as much a history lesson as the noted monuments, as rewarding an architectural study as Baron Georges-Eugène Haussmann’s façades of the Grands Boulevards, and as much fun as a visit to any of the flower-laden parks.

With the exception of the Gare Montparnasse, which soars eighteen stories in its familiar late-twentieth-century structural form, Paris’s train stations reflect the exuberant faith in industrial progress that marked the end of the nineteenth century. The great architects of the day conceived these remarkable structures, and Impressionist artists such as Édouard Manet, Claude Monet, Gustave Caillebotte, Jean Beraud, and Norbert Goeneutte competed to properly record the dramatic impact of the stations on the Parisian landscape and its citizenry.

Just three years after the Paris Salon of 1874 (where Manet’s The Railway, now known as The Gare Saint-Lazare, brought down a storm of ridicule), Émile Zola took up the cause. “That is where painting is today,” he wrote in defense of new paintings by Monet. “Our artists have to find the poetry in train stations, the way their fathers found the poetry in forests and rivers.”

In fact, Monet’s group of eleven works depicting the Gare Saint-Lazare became the basis for an art exhibition titled Manet, Monet, and the Gare Saint-Lazare at the Musée d’Orsay last spring. The successful exhibition then moved to the National Gallery in Washington, D.C. For modern-day audiences, these artistic efforts are powerful reminders that the trains, along with the cuttings and tracks that transformed their neighborhoods, were nothing less than a wondrous symbol of change.

As the stations made grand architectural statements, we can admire them today as a glimpse back at the turn of that century, and for what they still are today. Enter any station, and the crowds—not to mention the restaurant facilities and even the poster art—will amaze you. This dazzling network of railways is alive and well, despite the preponderance of air travel. Compare the SNCF (Société Nationale des Chemins de Fer) with Amtrak: not exactly a contest.

Of course, the sense of nostalgia is strong, and marketing efforts have been surprisingly aggressive. Having adopted the slogan À nous de vous faire préférer le train (We’ll make you want to take the train) on its brochures, schedules, and ubiquitous ads, the company’s officials are aware of the sentimental value of rail travel. Vintage posters show the legendary trains such as the 1925 Sud Express steaming out of the Gare de Lyon for the Riviera, and the Boîte à Sel delivering elegantly dressed and coiffed passengers to the Gare d’Austerlitz from Biarritz.

With the stations recently cleaned up and vigorously updating their amenities, it can be richly rewarding to devote a few days to them. Think of them as a historical collection, a phenomenon unleashed by industrialization, and particularly as a glamorous symbol of mobility. For the first time, people could hop a train and ride in comfort to the south of France, the southwest, the north, the east. The possibilities seemed endless, and the opportunity to house these revolutionary steam railways gave architects a bold new form of expression.

At first, architects balked at the new engineering techniques, such as using iron beams or vaults to create the broad spans needed to construct the ticket halls and train sheds. As Anthony Sutcliffe notes in Paris: An Architectural History, an entirely new kind of structure was needed in nineteenth-century Paris—one that would accommodate “large-scale manufacturing, steam railways and high-volume commerce. These buildings started to appear in and around Paris in about 1840.”

Iron and glass were becoming less expensive, but architects feared that aesthetic appeal might suffer. Respected names such as Labrouste, who designed the Sainte-Geneviève Library in 1842, made efforts to build with the new materials. In the 1850s, the Les Halles food market area (designed by eminent architect Baltard) pleased the emperor with its extensive system of roofs and clerestories. Still, the first two railway stations—Gare d’Orléans (1840), now Gare d’Austerlitz, and Gare du Nord (1846)—used modest railway architects. The Gare du Nord was originally an arcaded classical design “reflecting the horizontality of the trains and looking like orangeries or market buildings in the pre-Baltard style,” notes Sutcliffe. But as the more fashionable architects showed that the new materials could be applied to fine architecture, the stations began to look like showplaces.

GARE DU NORD

After the Gare du Nord’s modest beginning as a railway-company design in a then remote area of the city, railway chairman Baron James de Rothschild took another look at the neoclassical structures that dotted the city—notably Jakob Ignaz Hittorff’s nearby church of Saint-Vincent-de-Paul. Rothschild commissioned the German-born architect to give the Gare du Nord a facelift in 1859. Hittorff created a neoclassical frontage with giant Ionic pilasters that define the central pavilion; the gables on the end pavilions reflect the wide pitched roof of the train shed. Huge statues stand on the façade, so that the structure “combined a practical design for a railway station and the classical features of a self-conscious Parisian public monument.”

The interior is considered cathedral-like in its vastness, the original green columns supporting the roof of the train shed. Hittorff complained about a lack of “monumental street access,” though Haussmann supplied two short approach streets. Access has further improved with the recent addition of a service road and drop-off area at the front entrance. From the upper level, you can see the bullet-shaped TGV trains to northern towns and the Thalys line to Belgium, Holland, and Germany waiting to speed away.

The Gare du Nord is also the starting point for Eurostar, the Channel Tunnel (Chunnel) line, and the upper level has been transformed into a plush service-area-cum-waiting lounge. To inaugurate the Euro Tunnel in May 1994, François Mitterrand commissioned a sculpture. Europa Operanda’s futuristic bronze figures of an adult and child dominate the parapet overlooking the Grandes Lignes.

GARE DE L’EST

Built three years after the original Gare du Nord, this station inspired all the others. As Sutcliffe notes, the stations “offered the chance to create completely new spaces and circulation systems, using iron and glass in a more creative way than was normally possible in Parisian architecture.” Stations also had “monumental potential at the head of the approach streets.” Architect F. A. Duquesney emphasized the semicircular vault of the train shed, “which sprang above an arcaded frontage and was flanked by two three-story pavilions, topped by a balustrade, in the formal style of railway offices of the day.” The large, glazed arch had radiating iron tracery and glass that formed a striking wheel symbol. As in the Gare du Nord, statues graced the façade, each representing a town served by the network.

The boulevard de Strasbourg, linking the Gare de l’Est and the Grands Boulevards, would not be completed until the early 1850s, but Duquesney designed the structure with the future vista in mind. Although—or perhaps because—the immediate neighborhood today is a bit down-at-the-heel, the station makes an imposing sight as it dominates Place Napoléon III.

What is perhaps most striking about the Gare de l’Est, however, is its haunting history as the point of departure for the Nazi concentration camps of World War II. If you don’t have this history in mind at first (as you contemplate such eastern destinations as Strasbourg and Bâle, plus the newly completed TGV line to Strasbourg and Germany), you will soon be reminded by at least four large plaques. “N’oublions jamais,” the plaques implore visitors. “De cette gare partirent des milliers des patriotes français pour le tragique voyage.” Let us never forget …

GARE SAINT-LAZARE

Farther west and serving the western region of the country, including Normandy as well as extensive Paris suburbs, this more centrally located station didn’t stand at the head of a great vista. Sutcliffe dismisses the Gare Saint-Lazare as “a conforming Parisian façade architecture, virtually unrecognizable as a station.” However, in its newly sandblasted state, connected by a blue filigreed skywalk from the Hôtel Concorde Saint-Lazare, this mid-nineteenth-century structure has a definite glamour; its neighbors include the splendid Second Empire department stores Printemps and Galeries Lafayette.

The Gare Saint-Lazare was redesigned in the 1860s as the Second Empire made its mark under Napoléon III. Haussmann’s street improvements were in full swing, and the Hôtel Terminus (now the Concorde Saint-Lazare) coincided with the remodeling of the station. Today, this bustling area is entertaining. The 1895 seafood restaurant Mollard is across the street, decorated with fabulous mosaic murals, and the posh 1889 Paul boulangerie is located at boulevard Haussmann and rue Tronchet (where lines form for turtle-shaped loaves and gourmet sandwiches).

The most striking feature of the Gare Saint-Lazare is the range of its amenities. On the ground floor is the vast Galerie Marchande. This ultra-mall sells everything from fresh vegetables to Swarovski crystal. You can get your umbrella repaired at Maroquinerie à la Pierrette. (“Même les plus malades,” a sign promises—even the worst of them.) And when was the last time you were in a station that had an antiques shop? Oh, yes, you can get glasses in an hour and your photos developed at the same time.

The Galerie Marchande has undergone a massive renovation. This is also now the site of the new RER Haussmann-Saint-Lazare commuter rail station. Up the escalator to the main ticket hall, two huge brasseries are doing a brisk business, and the hot-dog-shaped stainless-steel stands on rubber tires—a whimsical presence in every station—serve all sorts of refreshments to go. Meanwhile signs boast of on-time performance and wagons-lits posters exhort us to “discover the new cuisine on board—for the pleasure of the taste and the trip.”

GARE D’AUSTERLITZ

After our virtual journeys to the north, east, and west from these Right Bank stations, let’s move south to the Left Bank for the southern routes. If the Gare Saint-Lazare and its environs recall city life in the late nineteenth century, the Gare d’Austerlitz reflects the era of travel to the posh watering holes of the southwest, notably Biarritz and Saint-Jean-de-Luz.

Though the station itself is rather nondescript due to its early origins, it offers a fine glimpse into a leisurely era, when travelers disported themselves in the formal restaurant upstairs, seen from outside as a row of bright blue awnings over flowered window boxes. In the restaurant, Le Grenadier, you will be given its history (named for a neighborhood soldier in Napoléon’s army) and a daily changing menu offered with private-label wine. Salons display paintings of the campaigns.

In the ticket hall, banners announce a new link with the city of Bourges. Travelers can buy packages that include guided visits to the Cathédrale Saint-Étienne and other sights; in the early 1990s, Jacques Chirac launched the Seine-Rive-Gauche project, a pleasant riverside strip that runs southeast from the station.

Many Parisians dismiss the Gare d’Austerlitz as architecturally dull. However, the sight of the Métro trains entering on an overpass (the huge archway on the upper level of the station) is compelling, like watching a train disappear into a mountain.

GARE DE LYON

Just across the Seine (technically the Right Bank), the station’s fanciful clock tower dominates the rue de Bercy area, which has been revitalized, particularly with the opening of the new Bibliothèque Nationale de France in the late nineties. But when the Gare de Lyon was being built, in 1902, the area was poor and the site awkward.

The Paris Exposition of 1900 had created a climate for change. Railway companies felt “a strong obligation to enhance the cityscape,” notes Sutcliffe. Both the Gare de Lyon and the Gare d’Orsay (now the Musée d’Orsay) were “variants of the classical style, though the Gare de Lyon, standing at the gateway to the east end, was more daring, using symbolism, the picturesque, expressionism and height.… [It] epitomizes public architecture in Paris at the height of the Belle Époque.”

Architect Marius Toudoire created, says Sutcliffe, “languorous sculpture springing directly from the walls, and the colorful decoration recalled the architecture of luxury hotels and casinos on the Côte d’Azur.” For present-day visitors, the legendary Train Bleu restaurant is “the world’s most palatial station restaurant in a lush neo-rococo.” Lunch or dinner is a feast for the senses, and though reviews of the cuisine vary, I found the food to be delicious, and the service elegant (pommes gaufrettes served in a silver bowl, for example.) My rack of lamb arrived on a Christofle slicing trolley, which had a hood of embossed silver.

Le Train Bleu’s fabulous murals of high society enjoying themselves in Lyon and the Riviera, its richly carved moldings, crystal chandeliers, and velvet drapes make even a cup of coffee memorable in the adjoining bar, Le Club Américain. The restaurant is listed as a historic site. In an elegant glass case are mementos, from the signature china to the Train Bleu watch.

GARE MONTPARNASSE

This startlingly modern station on boulevard Montparnasse was rebuilt to serve the TGV to the Atlantic coast, including Nantes and Quimper as of 1990. It forms a glass and concrete complex with the 1973 Tour Montparnasse, which soars to fifty-nine stories over the once-Bohemian district. Sutcliffe calls the Gare Montparnasse nothing more than a “modest practicality,” but it appeals with its broad arched views of the surrounding area, its restaurants judiciously placed on the perimeter of the upper level.

Whether or not the charms and unexpected comforts of the train stations persuade you to “préférer le train,” you can savor the pleasures of the journey—past and present—simply by visiting the stations themselves.

Streets of Desire
VIVIAN THOMAS

AS VIVIAN THOMAS notes below, “Anyone who’s been to Paris knows that it’s possible to fall in love with a street.” By extension, I am absolutely in love with this piece. And as you might guess, few other pleasures are as wonderful to me as accidentally discovering an old book (especially one in a series) with as much detail in it as the one Thomas describes. I have complete book envy! In an online search, I have found a variety of paperback and hardcover editions of Évocation du vieux Paris, and it is just a matter of choosing which one I prefer before a copy comes into my possession.

VIVIAN THOMAS is assistant editor of France Today. She also contributed numerous articles to the former Paris Notes, where this piece originally appeared.

 SOMETIMES OPENING A book is like opening a door. For me, the door to the streets of Paris was opened by my friend Charles, a professor in the south of France. Scanning his bookshelves one day when I was visiting, he pulled down a slightly tattered copy of Jacques Hillairet’s Évocation du vieux Paris.

“Here’s a book you’d like. You can keep this one—I have another copy.”

Although published in 1953, the book looked older, with yellowed, brittle pages. Too bulky to be a guidebook, it was the second volume (Les Faubourgs) of a three-volume set. But leafing through it, I found myself mentally walking through Paris, street by street and house by house, looking at it through the eyes of a historian who seemed to know not just every building, but every balcony, courtyard, and doorknocker.

I couldn’t wait to get back to Paris and start walking with Hillairet as my guide. Now, many years later, I’ve walked most of Paris with him. I found an abridged one-volume edition called Connaissance du vieux Paris in a secondhand bookstore, and although it’s even heavier, I happily lug it with me as I explore unfamiliar streets and learn new stories about old favorites.

Anyone who’s been to Paris knows that it’s possible to fall in love with a street. It may be a tiny impasse or a spacious boulevard, but it’s so full of history, beauty, sweet memories, or pure Parisian charm that it becomes “your” street. It’s the one you head for first when you arrive, the one you dream about when you’re away from the city too long, the one you imagine yourself living on when you let your fantasies run wild. These are a few of mine.

RUE MOUFFETARD

I first walked down the rue Mouffetard just before Christmas when Paris was mostly unknown to me. It was early evening, dark and cold, but festive shop windows and groups of scurrying pedestrians enticed me all the way to the end of the street where a brightly lit market spilled into the street. Suddenly hungry, I was overwhelmed by the aroma of spit-roasted chickens stuffed with rosemary and the sight of a hundred cheeses with names new to me, vegetables arranged like Byzantine mosaics, and heaps of glittering fish so fresh they still smelled of the sea. The pièce de résistance was lying in state on a table in front of the boucherie: a huge bearlike animal that was, I was told, a sanglier, or wild boar.

Since that first eye-opening walk, I must have strolled down the Mouffe’ hundreds of times, always finding it the very essence of Paris. This is at once the youngest and oldest of streets. Youngest because, close to the Sorbonne, it’s full of students who make a cheap dinner from the panini or crêpes sold on the street, and linger with their friends for hours of discussion over one beer in the Place de la Contrescarpe. Oldest because the street itself goes back to Roman times.

Once the start of the main road that led from Paris to Italy, the rue Mouffetard was also the main street of the village of Saint-Médard, clustered around the church that still stands near the rue Censier. From the bank of the Bièvre River, the village grew until it reached the walls of Paris in the fourteenth century and was annexed in 1724.

The Bièvre was eventually polluted by wastes dumped by the weavers and tanners who lined its banks, and some historians claim that the name Mouffetard came from the stench that lingered here—mouffette means skunk.

The Bièvre now runs underground and the smell is history, but relics of the past remain. At the top of the street, the Place de la Contrescarpe has been a popular meeting place since Rabelais and his friends frequented the Pomme de Pin cabaret, whose carved sign remains, now above a butcher shop. Today the place is ringed with cafés like the Delmas, once La Chope, a favorite of Hemingway, who lived around the corner.

The street is lined with mansard-roofed houses, one of which contained a real buried treasure. When a house at no. 53 was demolished in 1938, workmen found over three thousand gold coins stamped with the image of Louis XV, along with a note stating that Louis Nivelle, a royal counselor, left them to his daughter. The money went to his descendants, the city of Paris, and the lucky workmen.

A sculpted oak tree decorates the façade of a tavern at no. 69—Le Vieux Chêne was the meeting place of a revolutionary group in 1848. And down the hill at no. 122, À la Bonne Source has the street’s oldest sign, a classified monument from the late 1500s showing water carriers at a well.

The market, which has operated since 1350, teems with basket-toting Parisians every day but Monday. And although the church of Saint-Médard is now an oasis of calm in the tumult, it was once the scene of religious hysteria so frenzied that the king was forced to intervene. When the death of a pious young deacon named François de Paris was followed by seemingly miraculous cures, unruly crowds mobbed the cemetery until Louis XV ordered it closed. The locked gates carried a stern message: “By order of the King, God is forbidden to perform miracles in this place.”

COUR DU COMMERCE SAINT-ANDRÉ

A wide arch at 130 boulevard Saint-Germain flanked by figures of Hermes and Hephaestus is the gateway to a time warp, the Cour du Commerce Saint-André.

This cobblestone passage is steeped in history. At no. 8, Marat ran a printing press that produced his revolutionary tabloid L’Ami du peuple. Standing in the narrow rue piétonne, I wonder if his press was loud enough to drown out the thumps coming from no. 9, where a carpenter was using sheep to test a new device he had built for its inventor, Dr. Ignace Guillotin. A year after Charlotte Corday murdered Marat in his bath, the guillotine would end the days of another famous resident. Danton, who moved into no. 20 in 1789, was arrested there in 1794 and executed six days later.

Benjamin Franklin and Thomas Jefferson frequented this street as patrons of the Café Procope, where Parisians first tasted coffee. Opened in 1686 by Sicilian Francesco Procopio dei Coltelli (and still open today), Le Procope was also a haunt of the Encyclopédistes—you’ll see some of their portraits in the windows. The restaurant’s A-list literary clientele has included everyone from La Fontaine and Voltaire to Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir.

Today’s cour is half as long as it was before Haussmann created the boulevard Saint-Germain in 1866; Danton’s home stood roughly where his statue now stands, on the boulevard across from the entrance to the cour.

Although short, this street is full of lovely secrets. It originally followed the contrescarpe of Philippe Auguste’s wall, part of which still exists at no. 4. Inside the Catalonia tourist office’s gift shop are the impressive remains of a round tower, one of many that once studded the twelfth-century wall.

Another hidden treasure is the Cour de Rohan. This series of vine-draped courtyards linking the cour with the rue du Jardinet is where the bishops of Rouen once had their Parisian pied-à-terre. Its entrance is across from Le Procope.

No sleepy backwater, the cour is lively by day with shoppers and lunchers and by night with restaurants catering to the movie-going crowd of the Odéon quartier.

HAMEAU BOILEAU

Paris est pour un riche un pays de Cocagne:
Sans sortir de la ville, il trouve la campagne.

—Boileau

In one of my favorite fantasies, the one where I can live wherever I like and money is no object, I head straight for the sixteenth arrondissement and pick out a house in the Hameau Boileau. Not really a street, the hameau is a cluster of quiet, leafy cul-de-sacs full of butterflies and birds, where pretty homes nestle in gardens far from traffic but close to upscale amenities.

Back when Auteuil was a country village, poet Nicolas Boileau- Despréaux bought property here, seeking relief from the city he considered too crowded, noisy, and dangerous (in the seventeenth century!). Describing it caustically in Les Embarras de Paris, quoted above, he complains that the rich can buy peace and quiet in the city:

Mais moi, grâce au destin, qui n’ai ni feu ni lieu,
Je me loge où je puis, et comme il plaît à Dieu.

When that was written in 1660, Boileau had not yet attained literary fame, although it was not quite true that he had “neither hearth nor home,” having inherited a small fortune from his solidly bourgeois father.

Twenty-five years later, when he was received into the Académie, he bought his long-desired sanctuary—a little country house picturesquely covered in vines, with gardens stretching to the hameau’s present-day entrance at 38 rue Boileau. He frequently entertained guests here, and Racine, a frequent visitor, wrote, “He’s happy as a king in his solitude, or rather in his inn at Auteuil.”

In the early nineteenth century, when financial speculators discovered Auteuil, Boileau’s former property was subdivided. Today’s houses, in a private community surrounded by woods, range from neoclassic to Art Deco in style, but most have the look of luxurious country homes. The most striking one is a turreted Gothic-style fantasy that dominates the avenue Despréaux.

Strolling along those tranquil roads under massive chestnut trees, I found it hard to believe that a short walk would take me to the Michel-Ange-Molitor Métro stop. The cynical Boileau would not be surprised to learn that, over three hundred years later, money still buys country calm in the city.

RUE LEPIC

The magic of Montmartre is easy to miss. It disappears in the traffic and tourist traps, especially in the Place du Tertre. But the butte has old, romantic streets that are well worth seeing, and rue Lepic brings together all that is characteristic and captivating in this former village.

Before this street was built, Montmartre was a leafy hill covered in vineyards and topped with windmills. A hamlet at the top clustered around the place and its church—not Sacré-Coeur, but the much older Saint-Pierre—and thatched cottages on narrow lanes housed millers, workmen, artists, and quarry workers who dug the gypsum that made plaster of Paris.

One steep road, today’s rue Ravignan, linked the village to Paris for centuries, until the day in 1809 when Napoléon I rode out to inspect a new telegraph apparatus. Forced to dismount halfway up the hill and continue on foot, the emperor was not amused. Construction soon began on the rue de l’Empereur (now rue Lepic), which climbs the hill in a gentle curve.

It starts down at the Place Blanche, named for the permanent blanket of white powder left by plaster carts. Just off the place stands the famous Montmartre institution called the Moulin Rouge, where high-kicking dancers displayed petticoat ruffles, shapely legs, and occasionally a total lack of underwear.

Opened in 1889 (and still kicking, with several shows nightly), the Moulin Rouge in its glory days is shown on a mural near the theater’s entrance at 82 boulevard de Clichy. Toulouse-Lautrec sits at his usual table sketching dancers including slender Valentin le Désossé (the Boneless) and chubby Louise Weber, nicknamed La Goulue (the Glutton).

From Place Blanche, rue Lepic climbs through a lively market into a residential quartier where another artist once lived. Vincent van Gogh spent two years at no. 54 with his brother Theo, an art dealer who introduced him to Toulouse-Lautrec, Pissarro, and Gauguin. Under their influence his palette evolved from somber neutrals to brighter colors before he left for Arles in 1888. Artists’ studios still stand on rue Lepic and neighboring streets like rue de l’Armée-d’Orient—look for buildings with large north-facing windows and skylights.

Van Gogh may have climbed this same stretch of rue Lepic when he was painting Le Moulin à Montmartre. At no. 77, I find his model. An arched gateway carries the name Moulin de la Galette, and looking up through the trees I see the windmill, tantalizingly inaccessible since it is now on private property. Of all the sites in Montmartre, this may be the one most loaded with history.

By the Middle Ages, Paris’s highest hill, where the Romans once had a temple to Mars, supported some thirty windmills. This one, built in 1621, stands on the site of a thirteenth-century predecessor. So famous were these mills that in 1570 the Italian poet Tasso wrote that two things struck him most about Paris: the stained-glass windows of Notre-Dame and the windmills of Montmartre.

Although carts usually lumbered up the hill loaded with wheat to be ground into flour or grapes to be pressed for wine, some wagons brought grimmer burdens. Montmartre’s height made it a strategic point whenever the city was attacked, and cannons mounted here fired on the Russians in 1814 and the Prussians during the Commune of 1871.

Peace restored, the Moulin de la Galette became a popular guinguette. Parisians loved Sunday promenades to the butte, where millers and their wives offered fresh milk and galettes, or cakes, made from their flour. Now they could spend the afternoon at an outdoor dance hall. In 1876, Renoir immortalized the moulin in his joyous painting of Parisians in their Sunday best, dancing and flirting in the dappled sunshine.

The guinguette is gone now—replaced by an apartment building. And of Montmartre’s many mills, just one other remains—you’ll pass the Moulin Radet at the next corner, several blocks before rue Lepic ends at the Place Jean-Baptiste-Clément.

Paul Verlaine, who knew both the glory and misery of the city’s streets, described them poetically in La Bonne chanson:

    Le bruit des cabarets, la fange des trottoirs,
    Les platanes déchus s’effeuillant dans l’air,
    Toits qui dégouttent, murs suintants, pavé qui glisse,
    Bitume défoncé, ruisseaux comblant l’égout,
    Voilà ma route, avec le paradis au bout.

With Verlaine’s verse in mind and Hillairet in hand, I look forward to discovering many more streets of desire.

Paint the Town
PARIS MUSE

THIS TERRIFIC PIECE—about three paintings that tell the story of Paris in three episodes: Regency, Revolution, and Republic—is adapted from two tours, the History of Paris in Paintings at the Louvre, and the Age of the Impressionists at the Musée d’Orsay, offered by Paris Muse. This unique company offers private tours in Paris museums that have been described as “small and delicious” as opposed to “an all-you-can-eat buffet.” Founded in 2002, Paris Muse is the complete opposite of a large-group tour operator, never booking more than four people to a museum tour (but larger walking tours are also available). Guides, who are trained and experienced art historians, are native English speakers living in Paris doing graduate work or preparing publications related to art history. Tours are offered in about a dozen Paris museums, and there are two great tours for families. Visit the Paris Muse Web site, parismuse.com, for more details and to sign up for its Quoi de Neuf? newsletter. I subscribe and really enjoy it.




 THE HISTORY OF Paris is often told as a story of rulers, the monuments they built, and the wars that knocked them down. In the painted visions of its artists, there is another, subtler version of that history. Before the late nineteenth century, very few Paris painters turned their eye on the actual city itself. They painted their cultural moment instead, capturing the spirit and ideas of their age in much the same way movies or popular novels do today. That’s why, when we visit the city’s museums today, if we are not always looking at paintings of Paris, we are often looking at paintings about Paris. The gilded frames that hang in the Louvre and Musée d’Orsay are windows into the minds of its past residents. With a little background we can begin to read them, to see how three paintings in particular speak to the preoccupations and desires of Parisians who lived during key episodes in the city’s history: Regency, Revolution, and Republic.

At first blush nothing could seem further removed from eighteenth-century Paris than the idyllic country setting in Jean-Antoine Watteau’s Pilgrimage to the Island of Cythera (1717, Louvre, Sully Wing, 2nd floor, Gallery 36). Eight couples are making their way to a gilded boat that readies for sail. Each pair enacts a stage in the progress of seduction, their bodies forming an undulating ribbon across the surface of Watteau’s luminous landscape. At one end, a man in a blue cape strenuously woos his partner, who gazes away at her fan, feigning indifference. Another suitor gently tugs his lover down the hill to the shore. She looks back over her shoulder wistfully. Closer to the boat, the women no longer need to be cajoled. These maidens cling exuberantly to their suitors’ arms. The discreet eroticism of this flirtation is underscored by chubby “putti” soaring high above the couples, some of them engaged in suggestive, even risqué, gymnastics.

The scene may have been conjured by Watteau’s imagination, but it reflects a real form of elite entertainment enjoyed by the ancien régime. A fête galante—an elaborate outdoor party involving role-playing and theater performances—allowed courtiers to try out new identities and gallant seductions. This party is taking place on the island of Cythera, however, believed to be the sacred birthplace of Aphrodite, the ancient Greek goddess of love. That’s why we also see a statue of her, festooned with roses (her signature flower), watching over the couples. Her son Cupid is here, too. His arrows have been laid to rest, his mission accomplished.

Watteau came to painting by way of eighteenth-century Parisian theater, where this theme of a mythic voyage to Cythera was already very popular, especially in the opera-ballet. It’s no accident that his carefully choreographed couples appear to be performing some kind of minuet. A “pilgrimage to Cythera” was also contemporary slang for a trip to the suburb of Saint-Cloud, where on the extensive grounds of the royal palace there (destroyed in 1870), Parisian lovers enjoyed many a fresh-air Sunday outing. A boat departed for Saint-Cloud from the present-day Samaritaine department store (recently closed). Because eighteenth-century subversive writers used Cythera as a phony publication locale, Venus’s mythical isle also became synonymous with the underground libertine press.

That’s why, despite the otherworldly mood of amorous reverie in Watteau’s painting, it was later understood to literally document the degeneracy of a morally bankrupt elite, a class whose most pressing concern appeared to be how long the party would last. In the aftermath of the 1789 Revolution, Watteau’s seemingly apolitical painting looked both reactionary and royal, sparking such an outrage that the Louvre’s curator placed it in storage.

Back in 1717, however, Watteau’s Cythera was a new kind of painting for a new age. Louis XIV’s long absolutist reign had come to a close just two years before. His nephew, Philippe II, was now ruling as regent for the child-king Louis XV. A well-read, tolerant ruler, Philippe reversed many of his uncle’s absolutist policies, ending his wars and closing the worst of the Parisian prisons. Censored books that had once been banned were now in print. Around Philippe’s primary residence at the Palais Royal a more relaxed court life set in, once again in Paris after a long Versailles exile.

His regency’s cultural détente blew fresh air into Watteau’s vaporous painting, which shows people enjoying themselves informally, not following some strict court ritual. That’s also evident in the intermingling of classes. Eighteenth-century peasant blouses and straw hats mix freely with shimmering, aristocratic silks. These textures and delicately colored details are intended to be savored up close, with a relaxed and roving eye. Watteau’s intimate painting is more at home in a Parisian hôtel particulier than in some grand hallway at Versailles.

In stunning contrast, the massive scale of Jacques-Louis David’s The Lictors Bring to Brutus the Bodies of His Sons (1789—over ten by thirteen feet!—Louvre, Denon Wing, 1st floor, Gallery 75) commands our attention more urgently. Like Watteau, David took his story from the Parisian stage, specifically Voltaire’s Brutus, first performed in 1730. But the two works’ similarities end there. In place of pleasure, we have a tragic story told in a style more cerebral than sensual. This suited the stern moral climate of Paris during the last days of the ancien régime.

David transports us to the home of Junius Brutus, first consul of Rome, who had rid the republic of its last king, Tarquin. Shrouded in metaphorical darkness, Brutus turns his back on the horrible sight of his two dead sons, executed for their involvement in a treasonous plot to restore the very monarchy Brutus had brought down. David believed that painting should ask its viewers tough ethical questions. Is Brutus above humanity, for his personal sacrifice to the republic, or below it, for allowing his own sons to be killed?

The painting received rave reviews at the Louvre’s annual Salon, opening just weeks within the 1789 storming of the Bastille. In the months that followed, its main theme—of measuring the interests of a society against those of an individual—was no longer a remote concern for ancient Roman leaders. Parisians subsequently adopted David’s Brutus as a heroic antiroyalist, the kind of dutiful father to the nation that France needed. It is doubtful, however, that David’s original client for the painting, the king himself, saw Brutus the same way. It was one of Louis XVI’s last acquisitions before the entire royal collection was seized by the new government.

David’s technique was by far the most Revolutionary aspect of his painting. He developed an austere neoclassical style that could be grasped immediately by the throngs visiting the Salon, held in the Louvre’s still-crowded Salon Carré. The grace and delicacy of Watteau might be lost in this shuffle, but David’s crisp lines guaranteed his painting maximum visibility. His figures’ pantomime of gestures—Brutus’s tight clutch on the letter revealing his sons’ treachery versus his wife’s mournfully extended arm—magnifies their emotional conflict across the space of a noisy gallery (the effect still works today). David wanted his paintings to speak directly to a motley Parisian public. It was, arguably, an audience that painters were thinking about for the very first time in history.

Parisian women were soon emulating Roman fashion, wearing the same corset-free looser shifts with high-waisted belts as the women in Brutus. David’s nearby Portrait of Madame Récamier (1800) is an excellent example of this Parisian fashion à l’antique. Brutus helped launch a taste for Roman-inspired furniture, too. Jacob Frères began their careers by creating historical replicas for David to paint (he was a stickler for accurate interiors in his paintings). Later, they would produce similar Empire-style furniture for Napoléon I.

David was not just setting fashion and decorating trends in Paris, however. He played an active role in the new government. As elected deputy to the Convention, he voted for the execution of his former royal patron. Since his radical ideas had failed to win him many friends at the Royal Academy of Painting, when the new government put him in charge of it, he had it abolished. He organized more egalitarian salons open to submission from all artists. David was also given the job of glorifying Revolutionary martyrs in paint, and organizing government-sponsored pageants—like the Festival of the Supreme Being in 1794—which transformed Paris into a stage set of patriotic spectacle.

All of this Revolutionary handiwork got him into serious trouble during the post-Terror crackdown. David was arrested and briefly imprisoned at the Palais du Luxembourg. While in his prison room, he painted a self-portrait, which the Louvre now owns as well. Although promising to follow principles rather than men from now on in, David began painting for Napoléon in 1798, just a year shy of the coup d’état that would make him, like Brutus, first consul of France. The work that now draws David’s biggest crowds at the Louvre is his Coronation, a marvelous piece of Napoleonic propaganda that signals both the end of David’s radical challenges to his audience and the return of absolutist power to Paris.

One can imagine why later generations of Parisian artists might want to steer clear of politics and power, and focus more on the act of painting itself. By Auguste Renoir’s time, the Impressionists weren’t interested in reaching the Parisian public—le peuple—as David had tried to do. Paris was now a teeming metropolis with many different publics, each with their own idea of what French art should look like. Renoir’s Bal du Moulin de la Galette (1876) was shown in what we might now call an “alternative art space” because his work was banished from the mainstream Salon (David’s egalitarian policies didn’t last too long).

Today, there’s usually a crowd in front of Renoir’s painting at the Musée d’Orsay (Level 5, Gallery 32), but in 1877 most Parisians weren’t ready to accept that contemporary scenes from their daily life were worthy enough for something as lasting and high-minded as fine art. Renoir felt differently. He painted his boyhood friends, sipping their grenadine, on a scale normally reserved for heroes. Instead of to a Roman interior, we are transported to a recognizable locale in Paris, the Moulin de la Galette guinguette at the foot of the Montmartre mill that gave it its name.

Although the merrymakers are relaxed, the painting itself is a complex piece of craft, a large composition with several figures moving under changing conditions of light, filtered through the courtyard’s acacia trees. While David used light to help tell his story (Brutus in darkness, his wife and daughters in the harsh light of reality), for Renoir light is the story. And in place of David’s clearly outlined figures, Renoir’s softly fuse with one another and their surroundings.

The impression of ease and spontaneity this new technique created was hard won. It took Renoir over a summer, working in his nearby atelier on rue Cortot, to finish the painting. His friends later claimed that Renoir painted the whole thing right there at the Moulin de la Galette, but in view of its large dimensions that’s unlikely. Plus, he also had a fair amount of editing to do back at the studio. During Renoir’s time, Montmartre was outside the official city limits, so it was an especially freewheeling, some might say seedy, place. The Moulin de la Galette in particular was not exactly respectable, which was precisely its attraction for bourgeois Parisians who went up there to “slum” on the weekends. Besides struggling artists, it was frequented by pimps, prostitutes, and local toughs. Renoir’s idealized vision hints at none of that. He’s more interested in the pleasurable surfaces of things, not their complicated substances.

When the painting was exhibited in 1877 Paris was not as peaceful as Renoir’s painting would have us believe. In an effort to revive the monarchy that year, President MacMahon dismissed his Republican-minded prime minister and put a monarchist in charge. He then dissolved the parliament. His constitutional coup d’état, known as le seize mai after the date on which it happened, nearly brought the rocky Third Republic down for good, just seven years into its existence. Renoir remained focused on light and color throughout. “For me, a picture should be something likable, joyous, and pretty—yes, pretty,” he said. “There are enough ugly things in life for us not to add to them.”

Like Renoir himself, the urbane figures in his painting are turning away, taking a day off from the ugly hassles of modern life. This form of escapist leisure for the masses was born in Renoir’s Paris. But most of it was taking place in new glitzy attractions on the boulevards. By 1877 the Moulin de la Galette was the last remaining guinguette in Paris. Visitors to the Orsay tend to get nostalgic over Renoir’s painting now, but there was already a good deal of nostalgia—for the simple life that once was—when it was painted.

Eventually Renoir became a successful, even wealthy painter in his old age. He and his Impressionist friends were the first generation of artists who managed to do this from the bohemian margins, without ascending the traditional hierarchy of the Parisian art world. Unlike Watteau and David, for example, Renoir did not have lengthy academic training. He went to the École des Beaux-Arts (what the Royal Academy became after the Revolution), but he didn’t stay for long. Copying plaster casts of antique sculpture bored him; he was anxious to start painting outdoors. While this new path for the arts may represent a triumph of innovation over tradition (no more Greeks and Romans!), Renoir was looking to the past, specifically to Watteau. His Bal is an Impressionist update of the fête galante theme, with its animated couples acting out the stages of seduction, drawing us back into the space of the picture. Renoir rediscovers Watteau’s mythic Island of Cythera right here in his own city.

Future generations of Parisian artists will continue to keep the past greats in mind, too, but the good ones will always try to capture what defines their moment.

Passages
CATHARINE REYNOLDS

IF THE REMAINING few passages in Paris are said to be predecessors of our shopping malls of today, we have much to be thankful for in that there are at least some left, but much to lament in that their modern versions are such poor imitations.

I find it fascinating to visit these old passages, beautiful shopping arcades built of iron and glass in the mid-1800s. Each one has its own character—no two are alike—and I’ve found some of the contemporary shops in them to be among the most enticing in Paris. (Visitors may also recognize the passage known as the Galerie Vivienne from Luis Buñuel’s film That Obscure Object of Desire.) Try to include a walk through at least one passage as you explore Paris—we really do not have the architectural equivalent in North America. Some of the places mentioned in this article may no longer exist; as always, if you have your heart set on visiting a particular restaurant or shop, check ahead of time that it is still open.

CATHARINE REYNOLDS, introduced previously, went to live in Paris as a student in 1964 and has lived and traveled there off and on ever since. This piece appeared in the January 1988 issue of Gourmet.

 “WINTER WILL COME, and then Paris is the devil,” lamented the Irish poet Thomas Moore in 1820. His moan remains relevant: last winter brought ample evidence of just how filthy January weather in Paris could get—it took the army, equipped with trench spades, to dig the city out of the snow. Yet for visitors and residents all is not forlorn if the weather turns nasty. No need to lock oneself in, deprived of the city’s pleasures. Clearly Moore didn’t, for he went on to write:

    Where shall I begin with the endless delights
    Of this Eden of milliners, monkies and sights
    This dear busy place, where there’s nothing transacting
    But dressing and dinnering, dancing and acting?

Together with affluent Parisians of his time, Moore would have taken refuge from the weather in the passages that were lacing together Restoration Paris. The Petit Larousse tells us that a passage is “a covered walkway where only pedestrians go,” a definition that disregards the narrow boutiques that have traditionally lined the passages of Paris and excludes the glazed roofs that were and are essential to the enchantment of Paris’s passages.

Paris is hardly alone in possessing such glassed-in commercial walkways. Milan and Naples have their gallerie, London has its arcades, Brussels has its galeries; so do Leningrad and Moscow. All are the ancestors of our modern shopping malls, but Paris’s nineteenth-century passages possess bags more charm.

The origins of the passages are not clear. The commercial success of Philippe-Égalité’s late-eighteenth-century wooden arcades in the Palais Royal no doubt attracted the attention of speculators. Inspiration may have come from descriptions of Oriental bazaars by veterans returning from Napoléon’s Egyptian campaign. Demand coincided with technology, for engineers had perfected systems that permitted economical overhead glazing of large, long areas.

The money-spinning appeals of the passages were obvious: post-Napoleonic France was reveling in the fruits of her belated industrial revolution. Her citizens were all too delighted to be able to spend their money in the dry warmth of the passages, sheltered from the hurly-burly of unwieldy carriages, fractious horses, and earthy odors. Developers were not slow to see the opportunities; between the battles of Waterloo and Sedan passages mushroomed in the area from the Palais Royal north to the Grands Boulevards.

In their heyday the passages were places to see and to be seen. Most were located near coach transport depots and theaters. Mondaines hastened there to visit their glovemakers, engravers, milliners, and jewelers, and then to gush over their prizes at the nearby cafés and restaurants. As time went on the attractions were multiplied with the growth of the entertainments of the Boulevards. As John Russell says so aptly, “A hundred years ago … the Grands Boulevards were Cosmopolis itself,” and the passages functioned as a vital element in that sophistication. Where else were the boulevardier’s wife and mistress to buy their fripperies?

Then came the nearly fatal hiatus. In the intervening century the epicenter of the city moved west, and trains altered the transport habits of the capital, leaving the Boulevards to molder—often not very genteelly. Baron Haussmann mercilessly cut streets through some of the finest passages, like the Passage de l’Opéra. Fashionable Third Republicans deserted the small, specialized shops of the passages for the grands magasins.

Of the 137 passages enumerated by the Véritable conducteur parisien of 1828, only about twenty worthy of the name remain. Until just a few years ago even the handsomest of those were tenanted chiefly by sex shops, cut-rate clothes outlets, unpedigreed stamp dealers and numismatists, pedicurists, cobblers, printers, and a handful of old-fashioned deluxe commerçants, who were bravely determined to rise above the rainwater spilling through the broken panes of the skylights that had once been the glory of these very passages.

All that is changing. Demand for central Paris real estate has made it increasingly attractive to restore and refurbish many of the city’s nineteenth-century passages. Fueled by the prosperity of Paris’s born-again Bourse, renovation is rife, and the passages nearest the stock exchange have been the first to benefit. What with this pressure on central Paris real estate values, many of the city’s nineteenth-century passages are undergoing a resurrection—which is a boon to the nostalgic; the curious; students of urbanism; admirers of nineteenth-century cast-iron architecture; chronic lèche-vitrines, that is, those suffering from that most extreme, Gallic form of window shopping; and Parisian and visitor alike caught by winter’s weather. Rain or shine, an expedition, map in hand, through the three kilometers of Paris’s passages (which need not be undertaken of a piece!) offers a seasonable opportunity to see what’s old and new in Paris.

Just to the east of the Palais Royal, running off the tiny rue du Bouloi behind a tree-bedecked square, lies one of the lesser-known passages, the Galerie Véro-Dodat, developed in 1826 by a pair of savvy pork butchers who built opposite the terminus of the Messageries-Générales, the line of horse-drawn carriages that brought provincials to Paris from all of eastern France. Messrs. Véro and Dodat must have been tasteful butchers as well, for the identical mahogany shop fronts, with narrow brass-framed windows outlined with faux marbre columns topped with gilded bronze capitals and cherubs, are a model of grace and sobriety.

A dally along the diagonal black-and-white checkerboard-floored passage overhung with ivies dangling from the second-story window boxes can yield all manner of surprises. The bright, chic hats and trendy sweaters at Jean-Claude Brousseau catch the eye immediately. His is an address treasured by misses in search of a turban or an outrageously oversize velvet beret that will turn the heads of race-goers at Chantilly and Gauloises-puffing Breton fishermen alike. Il Bisonte at the other end of the galerie can provide the same misses with solid Florentine-made handbags and satchels. In between are the specialist antiquaires, dealers like Robert Capia, Paris’s leading expert on antique dolls and the very man to see for those in search of a doll marked Bru, Jumeau, Steiner, or Schmitt. M. Capia is equally pleased to take on repairs or simply to chat about the history of the passage. His neighbors, Alain Fassier, R. and F. Charles, Eric Philippe, and Bernard Gauguin, trade in nineteenth-century rustic furniture, stringed instruments, early-twentieth-century furniture, and books respectively. M. Gauguin has some particularly fine old cookbooks, which are said to attract Alain Senderens, who is forever on the lookout for new dishes for Lucas-Carton. Nor is the passage without its restaurant, Le Véro-Dodat, behind whose lace curtains chef Yannick Ouvrard serves up tempting fare.

A few blocks to the northeast a pair of linked passages runs off the rue des Petits-Champs. The Galerie Vivienne and the Galerie Colbert are perhaps the best-restored and most lively of Paris’s passages. They share neoclassical decors, though in fact the Vivienne was built in 1823, three years before the Colbert. Goddesses and nymphs disport themselves under the Vivienne’s arched roof and around its rotunda, while young models people its length below. They wander across the swirling pastel mosaics from shops like Catherine Vernoux, run by a former casting director with a penchant for colorful geometric knits; to Yuki Torii, a bold Japanese designer who seems to have broken away from the somber palette of most of his countrymen; to Camille Blin, a lady given to shapely jersey dresses and daring jewelry; to Jean-Paul Gaultier, whose clothes an exhibitionist can wear with confidence. The more domestic then tuck into Casa Lopez to ogle its splendid custom-made rugs or Si Tu Veux for a magician’s hat or an old-fashioned wooden pull toy for a godchild. Then they collapse into one of the wicker chairs spread before À Priori Thé, a tea shop started by three Americans, which explains the superiority of the brownies and pecan pie.

The more pensive can stop at the Librairie Petit-Siroux, founded in 1826 and still redolent of the provincial, timeless atmosphere that has long drawn writers to the passages. Surrealist Louis Aragon was a regular there and a great champion of the outright louche and secret aura of the passages, eloquently limning their spell in Le Paysan de Paris. Small wonder that this bookshop does a good business in volumes about Paris.

A door leads into the glittering rotunda of the Galerie Colbert, which has just undergone a total face-lift. The Bibliothèque Nationale owns the Colbert and has installed its comely Musée des Arts du Spectacle and the Musée Charles Cros between the faux marbre columns, along with the winning boutique Colbert, selling well-reproduced postcards and posters drawn from the library’s collection. The museums mount changing exhibits of posters and costumes related to theater, opera, and dance, and a dazzling collection of antique phonographs.

The Passage Choiseul stands five blocks down the rue des Petits-Champs. Restoration is more of an intention than a reality there, yet the Choiseul merits a visit. Betwixt the neon bedizenments, general sleaze, and shops selling unlabeled clothes purported to come from leading manufacturers, one can enjoy the graceful tribune supported on Ionic columns and savor what Paul Verlaine called “les passages Choiseul aux odeurs de jadis …”

This is the most literary of the passages, for here Alphonse Lemerre, the publishing genie of the Parnassiens, had his offices at nos. 27–31 from the 1860s onward. Paul Verlaine, Sully Prudhomme, Leconte de Lisle, and José-Maria de Heredia met in his shop regularly. Louis-Ferdinand Céline, author of Mort à crédit, lived there also. His mother kept a lace shop over which he spent sixteen years inhabiting “three rooms linked by a corkscrew.” The nineteenth-century atmosphere is extended by the captivating office and artists’ suppliers Lavrut, whose oaken drawers overflow with pastels and a bounteous selection of my favorite Clairefontaine notebooks with ultrasmooth paper designed for those who appreciate the pleasures of writing with a fountain pen. Not to break the spell, one can slip into the café au lait box called Pandora to sip some of Paul Corcellet’s ethereally flavored teas, perhaps accompanied by the house’s poppy-seed-studded quiche lorraine and a salad.

The Passage des Princes, running off the rue de Richelieu to the north, was another hangout of the Parnassiens, whose poetry magazine, the Revue fantaisiste, published works of Charles Baudelaire, Catulle Mendès, and others. Built in 1860, the elbow-shaped Passage des Princes is the last subsisting Second Empire passage, yet it looks very tired, which seems a terrible pity, especially when one reflects on the glitter its airy, lantern-hung coral arches once knew as the home of Peter’s restaurant. French gastronome Courtine credits the eponymous Pierre Fraysse, who had worked in Chicago, with naming homard à l’américaine, a variation on a lobster preparation of his native Sète, to flatter a table of late-arriving Americans.

Today the Passage des Princes’s most visitable shop is Sommer, a pipe-making concern five years older than the passage itself and long-standing supplier to serious smokers like Georges Simenon. Even the most dedicated antitobacco lobbyist cannot help but admire the workmanship in the antiques for sale or stand fascinated before the craftsmen creating small works of art in the window, using brier and the firm’s specialty, écume de mer, a silicate said to purify the noxious elements in tobacco.

Perhaps the most evocative if not the tidiest of Paris’s passages are the three spanning the boulevard Montmartre, the Passage des Panoramas, the Passage Jouffroy, and the Passage Verdeau. The oldest, the Panoramas, is named for the two giant panoramas that were installed to either side of its entrance by an American speculator named James Thayer. Thayer had purchased the French patent for painted perspectives, or panoramas, from countryman Robert Fulton, who used the proceeds to fund his experiments with steamboats. Meanwhile Thayer developed the passage to cash in on the crowds come to see the sixty-two-foot-high canvases of Paris and Toulon.

And his success was great. The Passage des Panoramas was a center of fashionable shopping right up to the fall of the Second Empire. Modistes vied with stylish cafés. Jean-Marie Farina perfumed the air with his véritable eau de Cologne. Marquis’s chocolate brought top-hatted dandies sprinting. There the antiquaire Susse sold Alexandre Dumas père Eugène Delacroix’s Le Tasse dans la prison des fous for six hundred francs, little suspecting that the wily Dumas would go on to sell it for fifty thousand.

The Passage des Panoramas was extended repeatedly, eventually providing access to the stage door of the Théâtre des Variétés, the theater where Zola’s Nana held men spellbound. Here is Zola’s description of the Panoramas, where poor Comte Muffat waited:

Under the glass panes, white with reflected light, the passage was brilliantly illuminated. A stream of light emanated from white globes, red lanterns, blue transparencies, lines of gas jets, and gigantic watches and fans outlined in flame, all burning in the open; and the splash of window displays, the gold of the jewelers, the crystal jars of the confectioners, the pale silks of the milliners, glittered in the shock of mirrored light behind the plate-glass windows.

However bogus Nana’s art, real talent was encouraged there after 1868, when the Académie Julian was installed in the Passage des Panoramas. The Académie tutored many painters, including Americans Childe Hassam and Charles Dana Gibson.

Today the Passage des Panoramas has more memories than glamour, but it seems to be bootstrapping its way up, led in no small part by Stern, the capital’s grandest graveur, which since 1840 has served a clientele of emperors, grandees, miscellaneous aristocrats, diplomats, and just plain folk with painstakingly engraved bristols (calling cards), bookplates, signet rings, invitations, and letterheads from its ravishing shop paneled with dark oak heavy with caryatids and curlicues.

The neighborhood is mixed. The less said about the Sauna Hamman Euro Men’s Club the better. The food shops are generally fast, though L’Arbre à Cannelle serves an amiable tea amid potted palms; the stamp dealers tout themselves as maisons de confiance, which always leaves me wondering; and the newer shops—like Maknorth, the outlet for a Cambodian designer of the bold school, and Trompe l’Oeil, the place for obelisks and for fruit not intended for eating—are signs that things are looking up.

Across the boulevard Montmartre the Passage Jouffroy, dating from 1845, beckons from beneath the weight of the Hôtel Ronceray. It has an Oriental flavor, thanks to two of its largest shops, the Palais Oriental and La Tour des Délices. The former is ideal if you have to cancel a trip to Marrakech, stocking almost everything to be found in the souks. The latter is full of delectable sweetmeats made of honey and almonds and coconut, which it serves up with mint tea.

France takes over farther down under the skylight with Pain d’Épice, a shop specializing in tiny, shiny toys to fill a stocking as well as the miniature batterie de cuisine and provisions for the larder of a dollhouse Cordon Bleu. Galerie 34 and Abel are treasure houses of parasols, umbrellas, walking sticks, and canes, dating from the seventeenth century to the end of World War II. And I never fail to stop at La Boîte à Joujoux at the bend of the passage opposite the exit of the Musée Grévin to select a fifteen-franc bag of bonbons à l’ail (garlic hard candies) from among the jokes.

The Librairie Vulin operates in a more serious vein, promising “toujours de belles occasions” (always good bargains). The shop’s bins of books line the passage, making Vulin a bouquiniste without the hazards of Seine-side rainstorms. Opposite stands Cinédoc, a mecca for film fanatics questing for posters, postcards, magazines, black-and-white studio stills, and books, including biographies of stars from Bud Abbott to Loretta Young.

Across the rue de la Grange-Batelière the Passage Verdeau entices from between Corinthian columns. Its skylights, divided into small squares, its peeling cream paint, and its stony floor make the passage seem more tenebrous and bleak, but its restaurant and specialist shops assure it a following. Most prominent among the boutiques is Photo Verdeau, the source for rare cameras. Its ample stock of nineteenth-century matériel—objects like stereopticons—is complemented by a selection of silent films starring Harold Lloyd and Charlie Chaplin. Cheek by jowl, two good bookstores, the Librairie Farfouille and the Librairie Le Comédien, offer delicious scents to the bookhound. Postcard collectors flock to La France Ancienne. A good postsearch lunch is available at either the Restaurant Martin Malburet (aka Drouot Verdeau) or Les Menus Plaisirs. The first is more ambitious, with its collection of enameled promotional signs spread over two stories. I spied one vaunting Brasseries du Katanga while enjoying the gigotin d’agneau en croûte (lamb in pastry) and the marquise au chocolat extra bitter et moka (dense bitter chocolate and mocha mousse).

Another day I sampled Les Menus Plaisirs, a restaurant name with a double entendre, referring to both the pleasures of the carte and the small pleasures enjoyed by a king when he ruled the land. In the case of this small restaurant the pleasures take the form of such offerings as good salads and pastas with smoked salmon, foie gras, basil, or garlic.

The fate of some of the other passages has been less happy. Some, like the Passage du Caire and the Passage du Havre, have capitulated to the worst excesses of commerce. In the case of the Passage du Caire this is a shame, for it is the oldest extant, with an exceptionally elegant, bright glass skylight. Its entrance on the rue du Caire still bears three stylized retour d’Egypte pharaohs. Unfortunately the wholesale garment district seized the neighborhood, and today the poor passage is hostage to neon-lit tenants who supply display wares, mannequins, and wrapping materials to small shops across France. I have long bought Christmas wrapping paper in hundred-meter rolls there. One need only brave the lack of service in this wholesale world; the shopkeepers always seem pleased enough to deal in cash if one is prepared to purchase in bulk.

The Passage du Havre, located near the Gare Saint-Lazare, is even more honky-tonk, with the three well-stocked boutiques of La Maison du Train its only redeeming features. Little boys of all ages journey there to purchase rolling stock and to obtain spare parts and repairs.

Sadder still are those passages, like the Brady and the Prado, that have been grossly misused and not maintained, their identities swallowed up by neighborhoods grown tacky around them. The Brady was truncated by the cutting of the boulevard de Sébastopol and never really recovered. Today its name is hardly discernible in the broken floor tiles, and holes in the glazing gush rainwater on the merchants of ginger and manioc. The only shop front worth a pause—for the young and brave—is Allô-stop, a unique organization that for a minimal fee introduces would-be hitchhikers to drivers who are bound in the same direction.

But there is hope. With the examples of the Galerie Colbert and the Galerie Vivienne to inspire them, Paris’s architectural watchdogs appear to have persuaded the Assistance Publique, which owns the boarded-up Passage du Grand Cerf, to restore this once lovely, airy passage located near the Forum des Halles. Its glass will be renewed and its aerial walkways under the skylights will again survey healthy commerces. Improvements in its neighbor, the Passage Bourg-l’Abbé, now chiefly devoted to wholesale underwear manufacture, will surely follow, because late-twentieth-century urbanists have awakened to the amenity value of the passage.

But beware! There are passages and passages. Paris’s contemporary property developers have appropriated the name but spurned the extravagance of the glazed roof. However glitzy the boutiques that line the passages and galeries of the Champs-Élysées, they cannot compete with the haunted and haunting charms of the nineteenth-century passages.

The Secret Shops of the Palais Royal
BARBARA WILDE

WHEN I LIVED in Paris as a student, I rarely set food in the Palais Royal. “Too formal, too quiet,” I sniffed, preferring instead the impromptu gatherings of guitar-playing young people in the little park next to Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre in the Latin Quarter. Returning to Paris over the years, however, I have come to prefer the Palais Royal, and it has earned an unequivocal favorite place in my heart.

I love equally the gardens and the arcades, especially the enormous glass lamps that hang from them, as well as the site-specific outdoor work created by Daniel Buren—black and white striped columns, of varying heights, are arranged in rows in front of a fountain filled with large silver spheres that reflect the surroundings. Les Deux plateaux, more often referred to as “Colonnes de Buren” (Buren’s Columns), met with some resistance when it was mounted, but I think it’s wonderful—the juxtaposition really works, and it’s a great place for picture-taking. In 2007, Buren threatened to dismantle the whole project, claiming that the city had allowed it to deteriorate, but happily, a complete restoration effort began in 2009.

If you did nothing else than stroll the arcades and visit the retail shops within, that would be satisfying enough. The collection of shops in the Palais Royal is superb, utterly unique; there is positively no danger of buying something here that anyone back home will have. I, too, am a big fan of Mary Beyer (32–33 Galerie de Montpensier / marybeyer.com), and in addition to the other shops mentioned here I also recommend stepping into Dugrenot, a very beautiful antiquaire-décorateur founded in 1856 (21–22 Galerie de Montpensier).

BARBARA WILDE, introduced previously, is founder of L’Atelier Vert and writes a Paris Postcard blog, where this piece originally appeared.

 FOR ABOUT A month now, I’ve been reading the complete novels of Colette, in French. At around seventeen hundred finely printed pages, this is quite an undertaking. But unlike some folks who groan or simply shy away from so many pages, I have the opposite reaction. If I find I like the author’s writing, I feel a shiver of anticipation that I still have seventeen hundred pages’ worth of discovery ahead of me. Plus, I feel a warm rush of being provided for, akin to what you might feel if you were socked in by a blizzard with a well-stocked larder and the firewood piled high and dry. A feeling of coziness and closeness—because nothing is going to come between me and that author for several weeks.

As part of my Colette obsession, I’ve recently spent a couple of afternoons drifting around the Palais Royal. Colette—born Sidonie Gabrielle Colette—lived in a number of houses during her life, as many as fifteen by some counts, almost all of them relatively humble dwellings chosen by the author for the beauty of their settings or gardens. When a journalist pointed out to her how many times she had moved, she replied that if she could only have an apartment in the Palais Royal, she would never move again. When a fan of hers read this article, he gave up his apartment in the Palais Royal to Colette, who stayed there until her death.

  

  

For me, Colette has always been an almost mystical figure of French literature. And now that I’m reading her in French, my fascination has only grown. So on my recent visits to the Palais Royal, I imagined Colette leaning out her window—as she so often describes in her novels—and observing the quiet ambience that is so particular to the gardens and arcades of the Palais Royal. And I imagine seeing the vast courtyard that is the garden of the Palais Royal through her great, wise gray eyes.

But it’s only relatively recently in its long history that the Palais Royal became tranquil. It was conceived tranquilly enough, between the years 1634 and 1639 by then minister Cardinal Richelieu, who wanted a residence near the Louvre where he could easily—by simply crossing his vast garden—minister to the royal family. The cardinal also had a pronounced taste for theater, and an entire wing of the palace was dedicated to theatrical productions. Louis IV, whose father inherited the palace from the cardinal, opened this theater to the public. It was in this theater that Molière acted all his plays and, in a sense, where he died, subsequent to losing consciousness while playing, ironically, Le Malade imaginaire. Today, the Théâtre du Palais Royal continues the tradition.

Subsequently, the palace was inhabited by various branches of the royal family and was the scene of many famously decadent parties. It was Philippe Égalité, the grandson of Philippe II of Orléans (regent after the death of Louis XIV), who gave the Palais Royal the atmosphere it still retains today. He lined the arcades with elite shops, which enraged the inhabitants of the palace, who no longer had a direct view of the gardens. He also, from 1786 to 1790, built the theater that became today’s Théâtre du Palais Royal.

Then began a long period of upheavals and even violence, during which the Palais Royal witnessed three revolutions and was even partially burned. Poor Philippe Égalité was beheaded in the Palais Royal, and its elegant quarters became a mixture of gambling dens and brothels. It was then seized by the state and for a time harbored the tribunal of commerce and the stock exchange. When King Louis XVIII was restored to power, he gave the Palais Royal to his cousin, Louis-Philippe, the duke of Orléans, who was also the eldest son of Philippe Égalité. The work he did on the palace gave it the façade we know today. In 1830, he became Louis-Philippe I, king of the French—a supposedly more democratic king, as distinguished from the former kings of France—and promptly moved to the Tuileries. Eighteen years later, the revolution of February 1848 sacked the Palais Royal and partly burned it. Finally, in 1854 Napoléon III claimed the Palais Royal and installed his uncle Jérôme in residence. After his death, Jérôme’s son, Prince Napoléon (known as “Plon-Plon”) lived in the palace with his wife, the princess Clothilde. That practically brings us up to the present day!

In 1986, Mitterrand’s minister of culture hired Daniel Buren to create a three-thousand-square-meter sculpture of black and white columns in the courtyard of honor of the Palais Royal (at the south end of the gardens). The superposition of this highly contemporary work on such a traditional backdrop still generates controversy today. I don’t mind it, actually, and children love playing among the columns.

So why have I bored you with this history lesson? Because I feel it is essential, as you walk under the arcades lining the gardens, to have a sense of the turbulent history of the place. And because it’s probably the one place in Paris where you can get a sense of what that quintessential Paris experience—shopping—was like a couple of hundred years ago.

So let’s stroll under these arcades, beginning with the entrance at the southwest end of the gardens.

One of the first shops you’ll find is Au Duc de Chartres, which carries antique heraldry, medals, and coins. A very appropriate shop for the Palais Royal, don’t you think? Just because its contents don’t interest me very much doesn’t mean this shop isn’t heaven for fanatics of such things. I, for one, still enjoy peering through its windows and imagining the sort of people who are passionate about medals from bygone wars!

Perhaps instead of heraldry, you are fascinated by amber—that ancient tree sap metamorphosed into shimmeringly transparent golden yellow stone that sometimes contains insects or other fragments of past life trapped millennia ago in the sticky. La Maison de l’Ambre is a shop devoted exclusively to amber jewelry, with many pieces at affordable prices. So don’t hesitate—walk right in!

Not long after La Maison de l’Ambre, you’ll find the first of several shops on both sides of the garden belonging to Didier Ludot, Paris’s number one purveyor of vintage designer clothing, shoes, bags, and other accessories. This isn’t just any old secondhand store—believe me! If you’re looking for a Chanel suit from the thirties or forties, this is your store. Or visit Ludot’s shop, on the other side of the garden, dedicated uniquely to the “little black dress.” You’ll see examples of the genre from every decade.

All of the Palais Royal shops have a secretive air about them. First, they’re inside a garden that is almost completely sealed off from the bustling Paris outside. Second, they’re under the arcades, with big windows just made for peering through. But perhaps one shop carries this confidential theme a bit far: a sign in the curtained window just says “Très confidentiel” and lists a phone number. I haven’t called it.

Just beyond it is a charming shop called L’Escalier d’Argent—the Silver Staircase. Now, just the name of this shop is enough to enchant me. The Silver Staircase offers small antiques and curios, as well as vests for men—very unusual, colorful vests, I might add. Now this is my idea of the perfect Palais Royal shop.

I also passed a shop specializing in antique pipes, both restoration and sales. Now, of course I don’t smoke, but I can’t help but appreciate that such an unusual shop exists.

The north end of the Palais Royal rectangle contains some jewels, the best known of which is Le Grand Véfour (apparently there used to be a Petit Véfour as well). Who can resist a restaurant that goes back to the late 1700s? Where Colette and Jean Cocteau rubbed elbows, where Sartre smoked and held forth, and before them, Bonaparte and Joséphine? The restaurant has one of the most beautiful interiors of any restaurant in Paris, resplendent with Belle Époque mosaics and frescoes. However many stars Chef Guy Martin may or may not have, according to the whims of the Seigneurs Michelin at the moment, the restaurant is worth an evening simply to soak in the ambience.

Continue along the northern boundary of the garden and you’ll come to a narrow passage leading to the street outside, where you’ll find two of my favorite three shops of the Palais Royal. First, there’s a boutique dedicated to music boxes—nothing but music boxes [at Anna Joliet’s]. I had a couple of music boxes as a child, and just catching the delicate strains of their music as someone enters the shop is enough to transport me back to my fascination with them.

Across from Anna Joliet’s music boxes is a store called simply the Boutique du Palais Royal—and which is nothing less than the toy store of your—or at least my—dreams. Not one electronic or battery-operated toy mars the array of French-made children’s playthings. Surely this is where Santa Claus does his shopping! The back of the store is crammed with beautiful dolls—I found just the baby doll to assuage my granddaughter Charlotte at the arrival of her new sibling, for example. (I’m just waiting to find out whether it’s going to be a brother or a sister so I can buy the appropriate doll!) But while I’m waiting for that momentous news, I saw no reason not to send Charlotte some of the other fabulous toys from this store, particularly some of the wondrously imaginative wooden playthings (again, made in France). I bought her two sets of wooden magnets, one of which consists of different flower parts—many-colored petals, stamens, leaves—so she can compose her own French garden.

Turn the corner to descend the east arcade of the Palais Royal, and you’ll come across at least two glove shops. I particularly love these shops because they hark back to a time when gloves were worn for elegance—and sex appeal. They were an intrinsic part of feminine mystique, and removing those beautiful, clinging gloves was more sensuous than any strip tease. The first of these shops is the Maison Mary Beyer. Here you’ll find gloves that are literally haute couture. For instance, check out the fingerless glove, its wrist cloaked in plumes—clearly, we’re talking gloves as pure fantasy here. And sorry, guys, this shop has only ladies’ gloves. (Although the fantasies are all yours.)

A bit farther along the arcade is the shop of the French glove manufacturer Fabre. While you can find Fabre gloves in the big Paris department stores, you’ll never find the full selection of this, their flagship boutique. Fabre makes gloves that are a bit more practical than Mary Beyer’s, but still very sexy and oh so French. No woolly mittens here, but sleek, supple leathers, each model with its own quixotic touch of French fantasy. The design diversity of Fabre gloves is such a relief from the shopping mall–ified sameness of “designer” labels, whose gloves—like their eyeglasses—are probably all made by the same manufacturer in some Asian country. In contrast, each pair of Fabre gloves seems to beckon to you, whispering, “Go on … express yourself!”

Now—drumroll.… I’ve saved the best for last. Like most gardener/cooks, I have a very sensitive nose and I love fragrances. That said, I find it nearly impossible to find a perfume that pleases me. The synthetic ingredients of today’s perfumes are far too aggressive and cloying for me, and my reaction to department store perfume counters is to gag and run away. But in the Palais Royal is the perfume shop of Serge Lutens. Shiseido, which bought the line, has had the wisdom not to interfere with it. These are perfumes as you would have been able to buy more than two hundred years ago—or almost. Rich, subtle blends of natural fragrances, with an accent on the vegetal. Names like Bois de Violette, Chêne—oak, my favorite, evocative of leaves and moss—and Mandarine-Mandarin. These are fragrances that even I love to wear. Most are sold in a single formulation—a glass-stoppered flacon priced at 110 euros each.

A couple of modern designer lines—Stella McCartney is one of them—have trampled on the tradition of the Palais Royal’s intimate shops by buying up several of them and converting them into one large space. But with those exceptions, the shops of the Palais Royal are a sort of living museum of the past. They evoke an era when “artisan” wasn’t a catchy marketing term but simply the norm, an era when refinement, elegance, subtlety, and even idiosyncrasy were the predominant values of commerce.

Then, after you’ve made your round of the shops, take a stroll out into the garden itself, sit down on a sunny bench, and look up at the blank windows of the apartments lining the garden. Try to imagine the lives past and present within them. Think what it would have been like to inhabit the gardened landscapes so carefully traced and ever present in the novels of Colette. And let your mind take wing on this quote from the period of her life when she lived in the Palais Royal and no longer had a garden of her own: “Vous n’avez pas de jardin? Moi non plus. Aimons celui que nous inventons.”—You don’t have a garden? Me either. So let’s love the one we imagine.

Paris/New York
“Between the world wars, no two cities engaged in a more fertile conversation than Paris, de facto capital of the nineteenth century, and New York, its twentieth-century rival.” So states Susan Henshaw Jones, president and director of the Museum of the City of New York, which in 2008–2009 organized a terrific exhibit, Paris/New York: Design, Fashion, Culture 1925–1940. An accompanying book by the same name and edited by Donald Albrecht (Monacelli, 2008) is a worthy guide to this fascinating relationship between the two cities. It’s filled with gorgeous color and black-and-white photographs, drawings, and reproductions of artworks; these include some wonderful period photos of Art Deco masterpieces in New York’s Bonwit Teller department store and in the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel, and (my favorite) one of Nelson Rockefeller’s apartment, complete with a fireplace mural by Fernand Léger. The Paris Exposition of 1925 and the New York World’s Fair of 1939 were enormously influential in linking the two cities.
Though the United States didn’t participate in the 1925 Paris Exposition, thousands of American tourists visited the fair during its six-month run. Additionally, then secretary of commerce Herbert Hoover named an official commission to inform him “of ideas that would be valuable to American manufacturers,” sending three commissioners and more than eighty delegates to represent American arts and architecture in Paris. The 1939 World’s Fair, whose theme was “The World of Tomorrow,” featured various pavilions and exhibitions celebrating America’s industrial and corporate might. France, in contrast, sent its great ocean liner Normandie to New York—referred to in the book as “France afloat”—and its pavilion featured a first-class restaurant on the top floor that “brought haute cuisine to New York and would prove to be the training ground for the city’s renowned post–World War II French restaurateurs.” When Paris was invaded by the Nazis not one year later, the close links between Paris and New York were severed. “The relationship between America and France, New York and Paris, had already shifted into a new phase as Paris’s role in world political and cultural affairs diminished and New York’s expanded.”

RECOMMENDED READING

ART DEALERS

As much as I enjoyed the many art history classes I took in college and the many art museums I continue to visit, I find in many cases that even more interesting than the lives of artists of years ago are those of the dealers that represented them. When you see a painting in a museum, for example, there is usually a brief description of the work that includes the date it was completed and perhaps a lengthier story about it. But visitors are not typically informed of the work’s provenance—who has owned it over the years since it was painted and how it came to be in the museum’s collection. I am utterly fascinated with the provenance of artworks, and dealers are of course a big part of an artwork’s journey. Just a few reads about legendary dealers are:

An Artful Life: A Biography of D. H. Kahnweiler, 1884–1979, Pierre Assouline (Grove/Atlantic, 1990). Daniel-Heinrich Kahnweiler formed the Bernheim-Jeune Gallery in Paris and represented, among others, Picasso, Braque, André Derain, and Maurice de Vlaminck. The twentieth century had more than one great art dealer, Assouline notes, “but of all those from Kahnweiler’s generation who launched themselves on this adventure, he remains the only one whose name is inseparable from a decisive moment in modern art, the ‘epic’ of Cubism. The most important painters are indebted to this man, the greatest art dealer of his day.”
Cézanne to Picasso: Ambroise Vollard, Patron of the Avant-Garde, edited by Rebecca Rainbow and published in conjunction with an exhibit of the same name at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, the Art Institute of Chicago, and the Musée d’Orsay (Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2006). Vollard (1866–1939), according to Philippe de Montebello in the foreword, “was without question the most influential art dealer in Paris at the turn of the twentieth century.” Vollard is also particularly interesting because he was an author and a publisher.

MUSEUM GUIDES AND COLLECTIONS

Art Treasures of the Louvre: One Hundred Reproductions in Full Color, René Huyghe with Milton Fox (Abrams, 1951). This is a volume in the Library of Great Museums series, which I love. While not meant to be comprehensive, it’s a special, selective collection of a variety of objects found at the Louvre. Though out of print, this and other editions in the series are readily found online and in used-book stores.
Artists in Residence: A Guide to the Homes and Studios of Eight 19th-Century Artists In and Around Paris, Dana Micucci with photographs by Marina Faust (Little Bookroom, 2001). This wonderful, must-have book comes in its own slipcase, but as it’s a slender paperback it can easily be packed and brought along. Micucci notes that to explore artists’ homes and studios is “to feel magically part of their history.… By visiting their homes, it is our privilege to meet them on terrain that nourishes a personal connection far beyond that afforded by an art museum.” In addition to the very informative summaries of each artist’s residence, Micucci has provided visitor information and suggestions for dining, accommodations, and short excursions.
A Fuller Understanding of the Paintings at Orsay, Françoise Bayle (Artlys, 2001). This great book, available at the Musée d’Orsay, is one of the best of its kind and I wish I had one just like it for about fifty other museums around the world. As Bayle states in the foreword, this publication “is not merely one more among the already numerous books” on the d’Orsay. “It takes a truly different, dual approach. It is a genuine guide that proposes both chronological pages and theme-based comparisons where the eyes of the various painters meet, sometimes glaringly.”

Knopf Guides: The Louvre (Knopf, 1995). This book is a little heavy, so it might not be a good candidate to bring along, but I definitely recommend taking a look at it before you depart. Sections include “The Louvre through Visitors’ Eyes” and “Origin of the Name Louvre” as well as many on the museum’s collections, which have made it the largest museum in the world. Useful chapters also include possible itineraries, maps, and other practical information such as tours, lectures, activities, shopping, and family-oriented options.
Little-Known Museums in and Around Paris, Rachel Kaplan (Harry N. Abrams, 1996). If you are a museumgoer, you’ll want and need this handy book. Some of the museums featured really are little known (and deserve to be better known) and the summaries are thorough and interesting. More than thirty museums—including six just outside of Paris, such as the wonderful Musée National de la Renaissance (Château d’Ecouen) and the Château de Monte Cristo—are highlighted and accompanied by ample color photographs.
Paintings in the Louvre, Lawrence Gowing (1994) and Paintings in the Musée d’Orsay, Robert Rosenblum (1989), both published by Stewart, Tabori & Chang. These gigantic companion volumes have no rivals when it comes to viewing the museums’ paintings in a single volume.

GENERAL ART REFERENCE

There are of course dozens, if not hundreds, of resources for general art surveys, so I’ll just share with you some of my favorites. I have consulted all of these below on many occasions.

Angels A to Z: A Who’s Who of the Heavenly Host, Matthew Bunson (Three Rivers, 1996). This is a fascinating and useful reference you’ll be glad to have, and it includes entries from Abaddon to Zutu’el with numerous black-and-white reproductions. Bunson gives several reasons for the popularity of angels, and explains, “Perhaps most important, throughout history one thought has proven powerfully constant and nearly universally accepted by Jewish writers, Christian saints, Muslim scholars, and followers of the New Age: The angel is one of the most beautiful expressions of the concern of God for all of his creations, an idea beautifully expressed by Tobias Palmer in An Angel in My House: ‘The very presence of an angel is a communication. Even when an angel crosses our path in silence, God has said to us, “I am here. I am present in your life.’ ”
Gods and Heroes in Art, Lucia Impelluso (2003), and Symbols and Allegories in Art, Matilde Battistini (2005), both published by Getty. These two editions in the Guide to Imagery series have color reproductions throughout and note literary sources. I consider them to be essential.
Janson’s Basic History of Western Art (Prentice Hall, 2008, eighth edition). Janson’s was known for many years on every college and university campus and is still a classic for your home library. The original author, Horst W. Janson, passed away in 1982; his son Anthony took over authorship until 2004, and the book now has a new team of authors. There is also a volume for younger readers that is equally worthy.
The Museum Companion: Understanding Western Art, Marcus Lodwick (Harry N. Abrams, 2003). This portable volume is a guide to the biblical and classical subjects found in Western art masterpieces. Entries are alphabetical by name.
The Story of Art, E. H. Gombrich (Phaidon, 1995, sixteenth edition). Although Sir Ernst Gombrich has authored numerous volumes on art, this is the one that really established his reputation. To quote from the jacket, “The Story of Art is one of the most famous and popular books on art ever published.… It has remained unrivalled as an introduction to the whole subject.” Though a comprehensive book, French artists and those who worked in France are well represented.
What Great Paintings Say, Rose-Marie Hagen and Rainer Hagen (Taschen, in three volumes). Taken from articles originally written for the magazine Art published in Hamburg, Germany, these books are gems. The author team doesn’t present overviews of schools or periods of art history; rather, each painting is introduced separately, almost as if no other existed. “Pictures are windows,” they believe, and “pictures offer adventure.… Those who return from a successful journey into a picture are enriched by the experience.” A great number of works by French artists are included throughout.

FRENCH STYLES AND MOVEMENTS

The Barbizon School and the Origins of Impressionism, Steven Adams (Phaidon, 1994). An important work highlighting some of the still relatively unknown painters who greatly influenced the Impressionists: Charles-Émile Jacque, Théodore Rousseau, Narcisse Díaz de la Peña, and Georges Michel, followed by Corot, Courbet, Daubigny, and Millet. These landscape painters had been going to Barbizon, a small village on the edge of the Forêt de Fontainebleau, where they forged a path for the movement nearly fifty years before the word Impressionniste was first uttered in Paris.
Dada: Zurich, Berlin, Hannover, Cologne, New York, Paris (National Gallery of Art, 2008). Published to accompany an exhibit of the same name, this is a definitive and leading work that highlights the cities in which the Dada movement excelled. Forty artists are covered, including André Breton, Marcel Duchamp, Man Ray, Tristan Tzara, and Kurt Schwitters.
French Art: Prehistory to the Middle Ages (1994), The Renaissance, 1430–1620 (1995), and The Ancien Régime: 1620–1775 (1996), all by André Chastel and published by Flammarion. Chastel was adviser to André Malraux, founder of the French Inventory of Historical Monuments, editor of the prestigious Revue de l’art et de l’archéologie, and a professor at the Sorbonne and the Collège de France. With more than four hundred exquisite color illustrations, these are simply the most detailed and most beautiful books on these periods of French art, unmatched in their thoroughness.
The History of Impressionism (1946) and Post-Impressionism: From Van Gogh to Gauguin (1956), both by John Rewald and published by the Museum of Modern Art. Rewald’s first book was published to universal acclaim, and he spent the rest of his life revising it in five subsequent editions. Post-Impressionism is widely acclaimed as well.

History of the Surrealist Movement, Gérard Durozoi (University of Chicago Press, 2002). This work is astounding in its depth and range, covering the years from 1919 to 1969, the year André Breton died, seen as the end of the movement.
The Judgement of Paris: The Revolutionary Decade That Gave the World Impressionism, Ross King (Walker, 2006). Fans of King’s Brunelleschi’s Dome will also like this in-depth look at the decade between the Salon des Refusés in 1863 and the first Impressionist exhibit in 1874. Though a number of artists are highlighted in this book, two in particular merit the most attention: Jean-Louis-Ernest Meissonier and Édouard Manet. King writes, “to overstate either Meissonier’s reputation or his fortune would have been difficult in the year 1863.” Meissonier’s signature was said to be worth that of the Bank of France. Delacroix declared him “the incontestable master of our epoch,” Alexandre Dumas fils called him “the painter of France,” and a newspaper referred to him as “the most renowned artist of our time.” But for all his renown and wealth, Meissonier was stuck in the eighteenth century, where he vastly preferred to be: Manet was about as opposite from Meissonier as imaginable. Though he, too, painted from the Old Masters in the Louvre and the Uffizi in Florence, with canvases such as The Absinthe Drinker and Le Bain he began to portray scenes of modern life. “More than a century after their deaths,” writes King, “Meissonier gathers dust in museum storerooms” while Manet maintains his stature among the greats. A fascinating look not only at the art world of the time but at France, especially Paris, during a time of immense change and progress.

ART BOOKS OF RELATED INTEREST

Antoine’s Alphabet: Watteau and His World, Jed Perl (Knopf, 2008). I love this little book because in many ways it reminds me of the A to Z Miscellany that appears in every volume of The Collected Traveler. Art critic Jed Perl covers items as varied as capriccio, fans, flirtation, London, Gérard de Nerval, and New York City, as well as ornament, party, qualities, religion, and youth, linking painter Jean-Antoine Watteau to each one. Perl brilliantly conveys how influential Watteau (1684–1721) was to numerous painters and writers, and “reaffirms the contemporary relevance of the greatest of all painters of young love and imperishable dreams.” After I read this I had a burning desire to stand in front of Watteau’s Gersaint’s Shopsign (in Charlottenburg Palace, Berlin) and The Holy Family (in the Hermitage in Saint Petersburg), neither of which I’ve managed to see yet, unfortunately. I also had a renewed interest in The Pilgrimage to the Isle of Cythera in the Louvre (see “Paint the Town,” this page). It took five years for Watteau to complete this magnificent painting, which he submitted to the Royal Academy of Painting and Sculpture as his reception piece. With this work he became known as the painter of fêtes galantes, which translates as “gallant parties” and refers to the pursuits of the wealthy that Watteau portrayed so well. The Greek island of Cythera, birthplace of Aphrodite, goddess of love, is the subject of a debate over whether the lovers in the painting are about to set sail for the island or if they are returning. The Louvre’s interpretative text panel notes that “without doubt, the mysterious hazy landscape in the distance is one of the most innovative features of the painting, reflecting the influence of the landscapes of Rubens and Leonardo da Vinci.”
The Artist in His Studio, Alexander Liberman (Random House, 1988). This unique book is a splendid record of Liberman’s visits to a number of artists—thirty-one of them, nearly all of whom were French or worked in France—in the 1940s after the war. He felt compelled to personally meet these artists and take photos in their studios because he feared, if he didn’t, there would be no trace of the remarkable flowering of painting and sculpture the first half of the twentieth century had witnessed. No doubt he was also moved to do so by World War II’s annihilation and destruction. Color and black-and-white photographs are paired with the text of Liberman’s conversations with each artist.
The Banquet Years: The Origins of the Avant-Garde in France, 1885 to World War I, Roger Shattuck (Vintage, 1968). An original and thoroughly fascinating book linking playwright Alfred Jarry, painter Henri Rousseau, musician Erik Satie, and poet Guillaume Apollinaire as a group of artists representing significant aspects of la Belle Époque, or as he refers to it, “the Banquet Years.” Shattuck believes that this group best reveals the period, and in this book he explores how the avant-garde took the arts into a period of “astonishingly varied renewal and accomplishment,” which would change after the First World War.
Baudelaire’s Voyages: The Poet and His Painters, Jeffrey Coven (Bulfinch, 1993). Companion volume to an exhibit of the same name mounted at the Heckscher Museum (Huntington, New York) and the Archer M. Huntington Gallery (University of Texas Austin), this is a unique package that allows for reading Baudelaire’s poetry and viewing the art of his contemporaries together. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen, for example, Matisse’s Luxe, calme et volupté side by side with Baudelaire’s “L’invitation au voyage.” With sixty-five color and forty-nine black-and-white reproductions featuring Manet, Seurat, Rodin, Gauguin, Daumier, Delacroix, Jongkind, Goya, Munch, Whistler, and others.
Pleasures of Paris: Daumier to Picasso, Barbara Stern Shapiro (Museum of Fine Arts, Boston/David R. Godine, 1991). Published to accompany an exhibit of the same name, which was organized to investigate the second half of the nineteenth century in Paris, famous as a time of frivolity and pleasure. But it was also a time of social injustice and political and military upheaval. The works of art included—by Manet, Daumier, Tissot, Toulouse-Lautrec, Degas, Renoir, Mucha, Vuillard, Cézanne, Pissarro, Bonnard, Picasso, and others—document both the more pleasant aspects of the period as well as some of its harsher realities.
Portrait of Dr. Gachet: The Story of a Van Gogh Masterpiece, Money, Politics, Collectors, Greed, and Loss, Cynthia Saltzman (Viking, 1998). A remarkable tale tracking the journey of one very famous painting and taking us behind the scenes of the art world and market. Although Portrait of Dr. Gachet is not the only work of art to have an interesting and many layered provenance, surely it has one of the most complex. The Portrait that hangs in the Musée d’Orsay, is not, as you might expect, the subject of this book. Van Gogh’s usual practice was to paint two versions of his portraits, and as the title of the book suggests, one copy has seen quite a life of its own. The Dr. Gachet canvas at the center of this book was sold from the artist’s estate in 1897, found homes with thirteen owners (one of whom was Hermann Göring, who had it for a brief time in 1938), and was eventually bought at auction in 1990 by Ryoei Saito of Tokyo for $82.5 million, the highest price ever paid at auction for a work of art to that point. Postcript: in August 1999, it was revealed that Portrait of Dr. Gachet had left Japan and may have been sold to an American investor.

SINGLE-ARTIST BOOKS

If there are hundreds of books published on general art surveys, there are thousands published on individual artists, and so very many of them are devoted to French artists. Due to the monumental volume of works, I can be of most help here by alerting you to particular series that are devoted to single artists. You may then easily research which artists you’re most interested in, whether stepping into the shallow end of the pool by dabbling here and there or taking a plunge into the deep end, searching for more authoritative volumes. The point, after all, is to inspire you to turn a few pages of art books “to become reacquainted with names other than those of the luminous giants,” to quote Kate Simon in Italy: The Places in Between.

Discoveries (Harry N. Abrams). Originally published in France by Gallimard, these colorful paperbacks are a terrific value. They’re jammed with information, the quality of the reproductions is good, they’re lightweight and easy to pack (approximately five by seven inches), and the price is right. Discoveries books offer a fairly detailed overview and there are more than one hundred titles in the series, many devoted to French art and artists.
Masters of Art (Harry N. Abrams). The Masters of Art series, with more than fifty titles, is great for readers who want a little more than Discoveries but not huge coffee-table tomes. Not all titles are still in print, but copies are generally available online. Note generally that Abrams, an early leader in the publication and distribution of art and illustrated books, has a number of quite comprehensive and scholarly titles, and readers who are serious about particular artists should browse its complete title list online (abramsbooks.com).
Pegasus Library (Prestel). Pegasus books are mostly hardcover and all beautifully produced. They’re a little more scholarly than others and tend to have focused themes, such as Edgar Degas: Dancers and Nudes, Renoir: Paris and the Belle Époque, and Picasso’s World of Children.
The Raft of the Medusa
In the winter of 1818, the Romantic painter Théodore Géricault began work on a large canvas (about twenty-three feet wide and sixteen feet high) that depicted what had by then become a thorn in the side of Louis XVIII and what remains today one of the uglier events in French history. After Napoléon was defeated at Waterloo, the British offered the new French king the port of Saint-Louis, on the coast of Senegal, considered to be an important trading post. A fleet of four ships was readied to take the new French governor of Senegal, Julien Schmaltz, and others—settlers, scientists, and some soldiers who had previously fought for Napoléon—to the port. The ships were the Loire, the Argus, the Echo, and lastly the Medusa, which was filled with nearly four hundred men, women, and children, including Schmaltz. The man appointed to lead this flotilla, Hugues Duroy de Chaumareys, had joined the English in the war against the revolutionaries in France and was awarded the post for his loyalty to the crown. He was, by all accounts, little prepared for this journey.
The Medusa proved to be the fastest ship, but it ran aground on July 2, 1816, on the Arguin Bank, off the coast of Senegal. Schmaltz suggested that they build lifeboats to transfer everyone to shore, but what transpired instead was that most of the “important” people were put on lifeboats, while almost everyone else (excepting those who elected to stay with the Medusa) was put on a crudely constructed raft. As the raft was so heavily overloaded and would overtake the lifeboats if it came close enough, De Chaumareys ordered that it be cut loose. What happened next was nothing short of a nightmare. “Horror after horror ensued,” Albert Alhadeff recounts in his excellent book The Raft of the Medusa: Géricault, Art, and Race (Prestel, 2002). “When they were rescued thirteen days later, the raft was littered with human flesh, limbs of their fellow mariners waiting to be devoured.”
Two survivors, Henri Savigny and Alexandre Corréard, both of whom appear in Géricault’s painting next to the mast with the torn sail, wrote Naufrage de la frégate la Méduse, which was published in November 1817, followed by an English translation, A Voyage to Senegal. Géricault was riveted by the story. He compiled a “véritable dossier” on the Medusa, “crammed with authentic papers, with documents of all sorts,” noted his biographer, Charles Clément. Géricault studied the contents of this file with the greatest care, with “the persistence and minutiae a judge would apply to his docket”; he re-created the story on canvas, which was then exhibited at the Paris Salon on August 25, 1819.
The work created a national embarrassment for the Bourbon dynasty, as Captain de Chaumareys was seen as being associated with the monarchy. French historian Jules Michelet, Alhadeff explains, “saw represented in the painting ‘the shipwreck of France.’ ” In Michelet’s words: “It is France itself, it is our whole society that he put to sea on the raft of the Medusa.” After the stir caused by the painting, France ultimately reconsidered its involvement in the slave trade, and Schmaltz was dismissed in the summer of 1820.
The Raft of the Medusa, now in the Louvre, is on my short list of the world’s most impressive paintings. If you visit the Père-Lachaise cemetery, you’ll also find a relief of the painting on Géricault’s tombstone. It was his magisterial work, largely synonymous with his name. Interestingly, Alhadeff notes that in 1997 the École Normale Supérieure des Beaux-Arts mounted an exhibition that included not only its numerous Géricault prints and drawings, but also a gigantic reconstruction of the raft. The replica rose more than two stories high and measured eight meters wide. This work was both a tribute to Géricault and a memorial to those lost in the tragedy.

MONUMENTS AND GARDENS

French Gardens: A Guide, Barbara Abbs with photographs by Deirdre Hall (Sagapress, 1994). The author divides this book geographically into four sections: north, the Paris region, the center, and the south; there are forty-one garden and park listings for Paris and the Île-de-France. Each entry includes directions with easy reference to the Michelin road atlas. Many private gardens are open to the public in June and sometimes during the first weekend of the month. These events—known as journées des portes d’ouvertes—are worth seeking out at local tourist offices or by using specific Web searches. Additionally, a day (or two) in September is reserved for the Fête des Jardins de Paris, allowing the public to access secluded gardens in the city that are normally closed.
The Garden Lover’s Guide to France, Patrick Taylor (Princeton Architectural Press, 1998). This book is undoubtedly a prettier package than French Gardens just above—the color photographs help present the beauty and unique highlights of the more than one hundred private and public gardens featured—though I don’t find it as detailed. Taylor has organized the gardens by five regions covering all of France, and Paris and the Île-de-France are well represented. A serviceable map is found at each chapter opener, and there is a glossary of French garden terms at the back of the book.

Notre-Dame of Paris: The Biography of a Cathedral, Allan Temko (Viking, 1952). “The road—every road—has led to this moment and this place. Paris in the thirteenth century was one of the main stopping points in history, like Athens in the fifth century before Christ, and Byzantium in the sixth century after. Each had a social and political lesson for the world; each made the world a gift of architecture: the Parthenon, Sancta Sophia, the western façade of Notre-Dame.” So opens one chapter in the most definitive book ever written on Paris’s most famous cathedral. With black-and-white photographs, a foldout of the cathedral’s plan, cross sections, and a great bibliography.

Doubtless you have your own Paris. It’s not geographical; it’s the place where life first came vividly to bloom for you, where you couldn’t believe the exquisite beauty of the buildings, or the clouds, or the sun that shone after the rain.

—Don George, “Paris on My Mind”

THE SEINE

The Seine, at Paris, is more than beautiful. Poets and neo-impressionists shift their attention to it as the mood strikes. But it is also the main character in the lives of eight million people. Three-quarters of Parisians’ drinking water comes from the river. And a lot of their industrial poison and raw sewage empties into it. You do not have to jump off a bridge to commit suicide, one engineer observed. The backstroke is enough.
—MORT ROSENBLUM, The Secret Life of the Seine
I could spend my whole life
Watching the Seine flow by …
It is a poem of Paris.
—BLAISE CENDRARS

Bridging the Seine
VIVIAN THOMAS

OF COURSE EVERY visitor to Paris notices the Seine, but not every visitor pays the river’s bridges the attention they deserve. Each Seine bridge is unique, and collectively the bridges are one of Paris’s greatest monuments. Not every bridge in Paris is “worth eulogizing,” as Eric Maisel aptly puts it in A Writer’s Paris—many are simply ordinary, no different from bridges back home, nothing more than a way to go. “But a few of Paris’s bridges are exceptional. They are worth the airfare and the languid hours I pray you devote to them. They are why you came.” I am partial to the Pont des Arts and the Pont Alexandre III, but you will undoubtedly have favorites of your own.

VIVIAN THOMAS, introduced previously, has been an editor at Where Paris and is now assistant editor of France Today. She contributed numerous articles to the former Paris Notes, where this piece originally appeared.

 MY HIGH SCHOOL French teacher changed my life one day by drawing a bird’s-eye view of a boat on the blackboard. Two more sweeping lines, and the boat was in a river. “Here,” she said, tapping her chalk on the boat, “is where Paris began. On the Île de la Cité.” As she explained, the top half of the blackboard became the Right Bank, the bottom half the Left. “And this,” she said, slicing a diagonal line straight through the boat’s sharp prow, from bank to bank, “is the Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris.” Her little drawing and the light that shone in her face as she talked about her favorite city planted the seeds of what would blossom into my lifelong passion for Paris.

Three years later I stood on that bridge, looking out over the island’s pointed prow. I had stepped right into her picture, and ever since, I’ve had a special attachment to the island and its bridges.

No one knows exactly when a Gallic tribe called the Parisii first settled on the wooded island that would become Paris. But by 52 BC, they had already built between the island and the left bank of the Seine a five-arched wooden bridge that Julius Caesar found as he traveled south, seeking the shortest route from today’s Amiens to Sens.

His decision to establish a camp in the village he called Lutetia Parisiorum reflected its strategic location, at the crossroads of the north-south trail he was traveling and the east-west water route of the Seine. The Parisii later fought the Romans but lost, and on fleeing the island burned the bridge behind them.

That first bridge, destroyed and rebuilt many times, became known as the Petit Pont when a second one, the Grand Pont, was built to the Right Bank, across the river’s larger channel. Paris would have two bridges for over thirteen hundred years.

During the Gallo-Roman period, the city spilled over onto the Left Bank, only to retreat to the island again during the barbarian invasions. But by the end of the Middle Ages, Paris was booming. The swampy Right Bank was drained and cultivated, monasteries and abbeys were flourishing, and the city boasted ten bridges by the mid-1600s.

Parisians were not only crossing those bridges, but they were living and working on them. Houses and shops lined most of them, while beneath several bridges the Seine turned both huge waterwheels that supplied the city’s water and noisy millstones that ground grain for its bread. Businesses flourished on bridges; first fishermen, tanners, and millers, later luxury merchants like jewelers, booksellers, and parfumeurs. A bridge address became the pinnacle of chic.

The ponts were also lucrative sources of revenue for their builders. Before Colbert created the Ponts et Chaussées in 1716, not all bridges were financed by the state (or by the city, as they are today). The Church built some, recovering construction costs and making a profit from tolls. And developers built others. For instance, Christophe Marie built the Pont Marie in exchange for the right to sell lots on what is now the Île Saint-Louis.

The nineteenth century saw some twenty-one bridges built or reconstructed, many as a result of Haussmann’s sweeping reconfiguration of the city. Today there are thirty-one ponts routiers and three passerelles, or footbridges (not counting Métro and railroad bridges), giving Paris one of the greatest densities of bridges in the world.

Every bridge in Paris has its own special charm. But some of my favorites are those that encircle the city’s historic heart. Linking the Île de la Cité and the Île Saint-Louis to the rest of Paris, each one offers views worth stopping for. A walk around the islands, an easy and enjoyable promenade, is a perfect way to make their acquaintance.

Anyone who has opened a guidebook knows that the Pont Neuf (New Bridge) is the city’s oldest. But when Henri IV inaugurated it in 1607, it was new in more ways than one. Its size was remarkable: the first bridge to straddle both branches of the Seine, it is still one of Paris’s largest bridges. It was also the only stone bridge from which you could actually see the water, since it was never lined with houses. And it delighted Parisians by giving them the city’s first sidewalks, separating them from the carriages and horsemen of the muddy roadway.

From the very beginning, the bridge became the heart of the city and the center of Paris street life. Part marketplace and part circus, it was the place to go to buy the latest ballad or bestseller, watch a medicine show, have a tooth pulled, or join the army. Each of the semicircular alcoves held a boutique; roving peddlers hawked their wares, musicians played and passed the hat, and purse-snatchers stalked the unwary in the noisy, colorful throng. Every so often, a royal procession would pass on the way from the Louvre to Saint-Germain.

Henri IV, who still reigns over the bridge in the form of a bronze equestrian statue facing the Place Dauphine, would doubtless be pleased to see the attention his bridge is getting today. A massive project to repair and strengthen it is at the same time artistically restoring this architectural treasure. It started with a nationwide search for materials, since the original sixteenth-century quarries are now closed. Once matching stones were found, master stonemasons began shaping and placing each stone, replacing worn and damaged sections. The 384 grotesque masks, nineteenth-century replacements for the originals, are also being cleaned and restored—no easy task, since no two mascarons are alike.

The result is resplendent. Now that the petit bras, or Left Bank segment, has been renovated, its gleaming white stone contrasts dramatically with the unfinished part, and the bridge looks new again. No wonder the bridge’s name has entered the French language as a simile for ageless vigor (How is your father these days? Solide comme le Pont Neuf!)

Crossing the bridge to the Right Bank and turning right on the Quai de la Mégisserie, you pass the spot where the original Grand Pont once stood. Its exact site is unclear: some historians place it at the site of the Pont au Change, others at the Pont Notre-Dame. Both bridges may have been called the Grand Pont at different times. But the name Grand Pont had disappeared by the fifteenth century.

The Pont au Change is named for the moneychangers of Paris, ordered by Louis VII in 1441 to conduct business on this bridge. On Sundays, the fowlers of Paris held their live-bird market on the bridge, and to pay for the privilege, released flocks of white pigeons to celebrate royal entries into the city.

By the fifteenth century, the Pont Notre-Dame was known for its booksellers and armorers. Here, the spirit of the Italian Re-naissance arrived when an architect from Verona built Paris’s first stone-arch bridge, an elegant affair lined with identical arcaded brick houses. A subsequent version of this bridge caused so many boat accidents that it earned the nickname “Pont du Diable.” Now one metal arch—flanked by two stone arches remaining from the 1853 bridge—spans the river.

Leading to the Place de l’Hôtel-de-Ville, the Pont d’Arcole is a serene-looking green iron bridge with a tumultuous history. It was built as a suspension footbridge in 1828, just in time for the 1830 Revolution. One story about its name is that a young revolutionary, under fire from the Hôtel de Ville, ran onto the bridge and planted the flag atop one of its towers, crying out before dying, “Remember, my friends, my name is Arcole!” A less romantic story is that it was named for Napoléon’s 1796 victory over the Austrians. Whichever is correct, the bridge’s destiny seems linked to war. It saw heavy fighting during the Commune in 1871 and, more happily, was the route the first troops of the Liberation took to the Hôtel de Ville in August 1944.

The Pont Louis-Philippe, named for the king who laid its first stone in 1833, leads to one of the loveliest spots in Paris, the Île Saint-Louis. Cross this bridge to the island, turning left onto the Quai de Bourbon, where splendid hôtels particuliers face the river.

First developed in the early seventeenth century by Christophe Marie, the largely residential Île Saint-Louis-boasts Paris’s second-oldest bridge, named the Pont Marie after its builder. Completed in 1635, the bridge looks much the same today as it did when Paris’s newly rich flocked here to build mansions that displayed their wealth. When part of it collapsed in 1658, twenty houses fell into the river and sixty lives were lost, a tragedy that led to the law banning all construction on the city’s bridges. The Pont Marie’s stone arches are decorated with empty niches complete with columns and pointed roofs, poignant reminders of the vanished houses.

Like the Pont Neuf, the Pont de Sully straddles both channels of the Seine. In the middle is a lovely garden, the last vestige of the former Hôtel de Bretonvilliers. This little park leads to the island’s tip and a view of the busy east end of the Seine. This same bridge also has a traffic light for boats. To see it, cross to the Left Bank, turn left onto the Quai Saint-Bernard, and look back at the bridge’s center arch. The Right Bank channel here is reserved for passenger craft; others must use the Left Bank side, and only at specific times. The light turns green for fifteen minutes every hour, from thirty-five to fifty minutes after the hour.

Retracing your steps, continue on the quai past the Pont de Sully to the next bridge, the Pont de la Tournelle. The original bridge, built in 1370, was the city’s third (after the Petit Pont and Grand Pont). It was named for a turret of the twelfth-century city wall that stood near it. Today’s graceful span dates from 1924, and its most notable feature is Paul Landowski’s soaring white statue of Sainte Geneviève, keeping watch over Paris as she did here in 451, when her prayers protected the city from Attila.

If you take the steps down from the Pont de la Tournelle behind Sainte Geneviève, you’ll find yourself at water level. From this wide quay, you can look between the islands to the bridge that joins them, the Pont Saint-Louis, a simple metal bridge that does not distract from the sight of Notre-Dame. But the best view of the cathedral is from the next bridge, the Pont de l’Archevêché; the classic view of its lovely curved nave and soaring flying buttresses.

The water-level promenade between the Pont de l’Archevêché and the Pont Saint-Michel is a magical place for bridge lovers. The traffic and energy of the city above seem very far away, the river is so narrow that the scale is very intimate, and your feet are almost in the water. Walking under the bridges gives you a new perspective—you can hear the soft splash of the river and feel its cool breath. And these bridges are so close together that at one point, the greenish copper arch of the Pont au Double frames the golden stone of the Petit Pont, which in turn reveals the Pont Saint-Michel’s pale arch.

The history of the Pont au Double is closely linked to that of the charity hospital, the Hôtel-Dieu. When that establishment had run out of space and patients were crowded four to a bed, it received permission to build a wing that spanned the river. A two-story structure was built, and when Parisians asked if they could use the hospital’s passageway to avoid the Petit Pont’s traffic jams, officials recognized a moneymaker and started charging a toll. Horsemen paid double, hence the bridge’s name. The hospital bridge and its replacement lasted until 1847, although the toll was abolished during the Revolution. Today’s metal span dates from 1883.

Small, of course, the Petit Pont is great in historical importance, since a bridge of the same name has stood on its site for at least two thousand years. It was here that Caesar found the bridge he described in his Commentary on the Gallic War. And although centuries of building have widened and raised the Île de la Cité (only the Square du Vert-Galant at its tip shows the original level), today’s Petit Pont is still, at 106 feet long, the shortest of Paris’s bridges.

The Pont Saint-Michel, first built by prison labor in 1387, is the last of the island bridge circuit. Bridges on this spot have been lost to floods, ice, and boat accidents. Today’s stone span dates from the Haussmann era, and as you pass under it the arch frames a lovely view of the sparkling new Pont Neuf.

The island bridges are just the first chapter in the saga of Parisian ponts. Beyond the Pont Neuf lie some of Paris’s most beautiful bridges. There may be no more romantic bridge in the world than the graceful Pont des Arts, especially in the soft golden light of evening. The seventeenth-century Pont Royal is a dignified monument historique, while for sheer theatricality there’s the Pont Alexandre III, its baroque splendor a fitting frame for the gilded dome of the Invalides.

And the bridge story is still being written. Jean Tiberi, the city’s mayor from 1995 to 2001, made the beautification of the Seine a special mission. His ambitious program produced the Passerelle Léopold-Sédar-Senghor (formerly known as Passerelle Solférino) in 1999, bridging the Tuileries Gardens with the Left Bank, and initiated the project for another footbridge, the Passerelle Simone-de-Beauvoir near the Bibliothèque Nationale, which was completed in 2006. He also launched the project for the Seine promenade, an uninterrupted seven-mile riverwalk that will eventually make the river, its banks, and its bridges more accessible than ever.

So the next time you’re in Paris, give the bridges more than a passing glance. Look at them, linger on them, lean on them a moment to watch the Seine roll by. This is where it all began, and there has never been a better time to discover, or rediscover, the bridges of Paris.

Boats
As the Seine flows right through the middle of Paris, it is impossible to avoid crossing over it, walking alongside it, viewing it from atop a monument or hill, or even riding upon it in a boat. To me, a Seine cruise is one of the most supreme pleasures of Paris, even if it’s just for a short commute (some lucky Parisians really do get to work each day by boat). The best known, and oldest, of the tourist boats are the long, flat Bateaux-Mouches. The origins of these curiously named vessels come not from Paris but Lyon. In the nineteenth century, small boats that carried passengers on the Rhône and the Saône rivers were built in a part of town popularly known as Mouche—apparently the first engines on these boats made a whining sound like flies, or mouches, so the name stuck. Today in Paris visitors may choose between the Bateaux-Mouches (bateaux-mouches.fr), Bateaux Parisiens (bateauxparisiens.com), and Batobus (batobus.com). Not all of them operate year-round, nor traverse the same route, so check the details in a current guidebook, at the Paris tourist office, or on the Internet. They also differ in price, the Bateaux-Mouches being the most expensive. I prefer nighttime trips, when all the monuments along the Seine are illuminated (generally until midnight during the week and a bit later on weekends). If possible, avoid the dinner cruises—the food tends to be mediocre and overpriced, and besides, these trips need no embellishment.
A Paris Afternoon
“No matter how many times you go to Paris, there is always something new to discover and savor. My husband, Lester, and I have been to Paris twenty, maybe twenty-five, times since our first visit in 1959. We often go during the last week in May to catch the first few days of the grand-slam French Open at Roland Garros stadium in the Bois de Boulogne. Last year, the two days we had tickets to the tennis tournament were broiling hot the first day and cold and rainy the second day. The next day we woke up to sunny blue skies. I felt like doing something outdoors and something that wouldn’t require much energy—I was still a little jet-lagged and feeling a bit under the weather. We decided to have a picnic on the Seine and just take it easy.
“We picked up a couple of ham and Gruyère sandwiches on baguettes, some fresh apricots and cherries, and a bottle of water near our hotel in the Marais. We contemplated buying a bottle of wine but decided it wouldn’t be a good idea with a Paris Opéra performance on the agenda for seven that evening. It was a short walk to the Île Saint-Louis and across to the Right Bank on the Pont de la Tournelle, from which the rear view of Notre-Dame with its magnificent flying buttresses and slender spire is one of my favorite sights in Paris.
“At the bottom of the ancient stone stair we walked along the river path in the direction of the next bridge, Pont de Sully, until we saw a grassy green knoll under a tree next to the retaining wall. We settled down there and had our picnic as we watched the Bateaux-Mouches and the working barges sail by, so close you felt like you could almost touch them. Suddenly two models, a bride and a groom, and a photographer with two assistants and various photographic equipment emerged from under the bridge and began posing and shooting the models with Notre-Dame in the background. They appeared to be Japanese, so we assumed the shoot was for a Japanese magazine. Then two young Parisians strolled by and stopped, as if on cue by the late street photographer Robert Doisneau, to entertain us with a passionate kiss. Meanwhile, as the afternoon wore on, our grassy picnic spot began attracting more than just us: A young woman reclined, I thought to take a nap, but she proceeded to carry on a long cell phone conversation, punctuated with many interjections of “Mais oui.” A family with a little boy made bubbles with a “magic” wand. A man arrived on his bicycle with a trumpet that he proceeded to play—jazz—and apparently for his own enjoyment, as when he finished he cycled off without passing his hat. A large family spread out their mouthwatering picnic treats on a stone bench and proceeded to gesticulate, shout, and eat all at once—no small feat. An elderly couple’s cocker spaniel found our tree especially attractive.
“Eventually I opened the International Herald Tribune and began doing the crossword puzzle, until I dozed off. When I woke, we strolled back to our hotel feeling we had just experienced a wonderful afternoon. And it was absolutely free.”
—Janet Schulman, former editor at large, Random House Children’s Books, and former publisher, Random House and Knopf Books for Young Readers

RECOMMENDED READING

Coming Down the Seine, Robert Gibbings (Dutton, 1953; Interlink, 2003). First published in 1953, this new edition includes Gibbings’s original black-and-white engravings of Seine scenes. This is noteworthy since “however good his writing was, Robert Gibbings was primarly an artist and he attached equal importance to the wood-engraved illustrations in his books,” Martin Andrews informs us in the 2003 foreword. Andrews believes Gibbings’s love for la France profonde—the France of small villages, cafés, and good food—“will be shared by many modern-day readers, and for this reason, as well as for its delightful illustrations, this book should be essential reading for travellers in France today.” I wholeheartedly agree, and I think you will share my opinion that this is a lyrical love letter to the river that has played a vital role in the history of France.
River of Light: Monet’s Impressions of the Seine, Douglas Skeggs (Knopf, 1987). In this beautiful and interesting book, Skeggs presents a portrait of Monet and his lifelong connection to the Seine, but this is as much a story of the river as it is of Monet. As Skeggs writes in an early chapter, “The river Seine was Monet’s landscape, his subject, and his home. The lessons that he learned from painting its water inadvertently altered the course of the arts. The vision that he imposed on it is still with us today.” Chapters focus on different geographic points along the river, such as Sainte-Adresse, Paris, La Grenouillère, Argenteuil, Vétheuil, and Giverny, with nearly 150 reproductions of Monet’s paintings and period photos.
The Secret Life of the Seine, Mort Rosenblum (Addison-Wesley, 1994). “There is not a river like it in the world,” writes Rosenblum of the Seine, and he reveals just how unique it really is in this truly marvelous and engaging book. Rosenblum spent many years as a journalist in Paris, starting out at the Associated Press and eventually becoming editor in chief of the International Herald Tribune. He’s written several other books on French-related topics that I’ve mentioned in these pages. Rosenblum’s expert reporting sense is abundantly clear as he traces the Seine from its source, in Burgundy, to its mouth, at Le Havre, providing us along the way with a historical and present-day perspective on the river and the communities it serves. The geographic term for a river that flows into a sea is fleuve, he notes, but for the people who live and work on the Seine the river has always been just la rivière, which technically refers to inland waterways. He should know, as he lives aboard a fifty-four-foot boat moored in the center of Paris—talk about a room with a view!
Sundays by the River, Willy Ronis (Smithsonian Institution Press, 1999). Strolling or picnicking near water—oceans, rivers, lakes, streams, tributaries of any length—is a time-honored tradition in France. Sunday mornings and afternoons are still often reserved for this pastime, by residents and visitors alike. This favored loisir (leisure activity) is captured in this book by noted documentary photographer Willy Ronis. The forty-eight duotone images featured span nearly half a century, and they’re reminiscent of scenes from Impressionist paintings.
Île de Chatou
When my friend Jay entered the room housing Renoir’s Déjeuner des canotiers (Luncheon of the Boating Party) at the Phillips Collection (phillipscollection.org) in Washington, D.C., he actually gasped: he was simply unprepared for the effect this wonderful painting would have when seen up close. It is wildly popular, and long one of my favorites as well. Its history, including its acquisition by Duncan Phillips, is rather interesting. According to Susan Vreeland in her wonderful novel Luncheon of the Boating Party (Viking, 2007), Renoir finished the painting in 1881 and soon after it was purchased by the noted art dealer Paul Durand-Ruel, a champion of the Impressionists. Durand-Ruel sold it to a Parisian collector, but then reacquired it in 1882. Though originally against Renoir’s wish, the painting was shown at the seventh Impressionist exhibition in March 1882, and also in London, Zurich, and New York, but was never shown at the Salon. In 1923, Duncan Phillips and his wife, Marjorie, were in Paris on an art-buying trip for what was then the Phillips Memorial Gallery. Duncan and Marjorie were invited to a lunch at the apartment of Joseph Durand-Ruel, son of Paul. According to the Phillips museum publication Duncan Phillips Collects: Paris Between the Wars, the couple, seated directly across the room from the painting, were so transfixed that the question of its purchase was not “if” but “how much.” Just how much was soon revealed to be $125,000, a record price, even though it far exceeded Duncan’s acquisitions account. But Duncan believed the painting would be a “cornerstone” of the museum and he bought it anyway. He explained to museum treasurer Dwight Clark that it was “one of the greatest paintings in the world … finer than any Rubens … as fine as any Titian or Giorgione. [It] will put us on the map as a collection of modern art second to none anywhere.”
I absolutely love books devoted to single works of art, so I was thrilled when Scala published Renoir: Luncheon of the Boating Party (2003) in its 4-Fold series, a great concept with pages that fold out vertically and horizontally. A who’s who of the figures in the painting reveals that painter Gustave Caillebotte is among the lively group on the terrace of the restaurant La Maison Fournaise, along with Charles Ephrussi, Baron Raoul Barbier, Aline Charigot—the seamstress Renoir met in 1880 and married ten years later—and Alphonsine and Alphonse Fournaise, daughter and son of the restaurateur, Alphonse Sr. The book refers to the work as “a clear attempt to match the achievement of some of the old masters Renoir admired in the Louvre”—notably Veronese’s Wedding at Cana and Watteau’s Pilgrimage to the Isle of Cythera—and “a fête champêtre set in a modern industrialized world.”
The Phillips Collection, Washington, D.C. (Photo Credit 43.1)
La Maison Fournaise began on the Île de Chatou, a small island in the Seine just west of Paris, in 1857, when Alphonse realized there was an opportunity to cater to all the visitors the expanded railroad had brought to Chatou, beginning twenty years earlier. The train enabled working-class Parisians, who worked a six-day workweek with only Sundays free, to buy an inexpensive round-trip ticket to the Seine suburbs of Chatou, Argenteuil, Asnières, and Bougival. Alphonse started by renting out small boats and added a restaurant and hotel in 1860. La Grenouillère, the restaurant and swimming establishment in Bougival (made famous in paint by both Monet and Renoir), by this time had begun to be too crowded. Visitors looked farther afield to Fournaise. In 1877 a terrace and balcony were added, and Alphonse Jr. took over its operation in 1890. By the time he passed away in 1900, bicycling had outpaced boating as an attraction, but Alphonsine continued to run the restaurant until 1906. She offered lodging until she died in 1937, leaving La Maison Fournaise to cousins. In 1953 the property was sold and became an apartment building; it fell into disrepair and was purchased by the town of Chatou in 1979. After a lengthy renovation, it reopened in 1990 and, somewhat remarkably perhaps, La Maison Fournaise remains much the same.
Chatou, which has been renamed the Île des Impressionnistes, is easy to reach by car, RER, bus, and river transport. Check out the Maison Fournaise Web site (restaurant-fournaise.fr) for directions and more about its history, and to compare before and after pictures of the restoration.

When crossing the Seine I repeat to myself: “My God, how beautiful Paris is!” as if I were the first one to say it. Beside Tarascon, I don’t know where else I could live!

—Inès de la Fressange, Paris

PERSONALITIES

God invented Parisians so that foreigners would be unable to understand the French.
—ALEXANDRE DUMAS
Actually, it was the people, the streets, the life that brought me back to the city of the Seine. Above all, the people. They make the streets; they make the life; they make Paris. It should be obvious, but it isn’t. “How,” Gertrude Stein once asked, “can foreigners say they like France but not the French? It’s the French who made the France they like—and keep it that way.”
—JOSEPH BARRY, The People of Paris

The Master of the Machine
JOHN RUSSELL

THE MUSÉE NATIONAL Fernand Léger (musee-fernandleger.fr), in Biot, on the Côte d’Azur, is an excellent museum I recommend highly. There aren’t a great number of works by Léger in Paris, but there are some to be found, notably at the Centre Pompidou (centrepompidou.fr), which holds a number of Léger works in its permanent collection. Not surprisingly, as Léger lived in exile in New York from 1940 to 1945, the Museum of Modern Art (moma.org) has some of Léger’s most significant paintings. Readers wanting to delve further into the works of Léger may be interested in Fernand Léger (Museum of Modern Art, 2002) by Carolyn Lanchner, a former curator of painting and sculpture at MoMA, whose text accompanies each of the book’s thirty-five color plates, and Fernand Léger: Paris–New York (Hatje Cantz, 2008) by Yve-Alain Bois and other contributors, which focuses on Léger’s influence on major American artists, includ-ing Jasper Johns, Ellsworth Kelly, Roy Lichtenstein, Robert Rauschenberg, Frank Stella, and Andy Warhol.

JOHN RUSSELL was art critic for the Sunday Times of London and chief art critic for the New York Times from 1982 to 1990. He was also the author of Paris (Harry N. Abrams, 1983, 1994), Reading Russell: Essays 1941–1988 on Ideas, Literature, Art, Theater, Music, Places, and Persons (Harry N. Abrams, 1989), a number of monographs on artists such as Georges Seurat, Francis Bacon, Henry Moore, and Max Ernst, as well as The Meanings of Modern Art (Icon, 1991, revised edition), among others. Russell was renowned for avoiding the scathing form of art criticism and preferred to simply share his enthusiasm with his readers. As he wrote in Reading Russell, “It has never seemed to me much of an ambition to go through life snarling and spewing.” His obituary in the New York Times in 2008 noted that art, for Russell, “remained a glorious love affair and a lifelong adventure. ‘When art is made new, we are made new with it,’ he wrote in the first volume of The Meanings of Modern Art. ‘We have a sense of solidarity with our own time, and of psychic energies shared and redoubled, which is just about the most satisfying thing that life has to offer.’ ”

 EVERY SO OFTEN there surfaces in art an image that is so compelling, so absolutely true to one particular moment in history, that it puts the historians out of business. One such image is evoked by The Mechanic, Fernand Léger’s painting of 1920 that fixes once and for all the idea that the life of the industrialized masses need not be without dignity, nor the individual mass- man turned into a disinherited cipher.

Léger believed this, with all his heart. If he makes us believe it, too, it is because he was not only a master of plain statement but a man to whom doubt and compromise and equivocation were abhorrent. He believed that the conveyor belt and the assembly line had changed life for the better, and that the industrialized working man would have his full share of the benefits of his hard work. It was a matter of faith with him that the mechanic was the New Man, the man for whom the machine was not a tyrant but the instrument of social liberation.

This could have led to a sententious, Stalin-type imagery of the Heroic Worker. But Léger’s mechanic is not at all like that, despite his bulging muscles. He is a man with a mind of his own. No faceless abstraction, he is distinctively a Frenchman of the 1920s, with his nautical tattoo, his sleeked-down hair and heavy mustache, his cigarette at the ready and rings on his well-fleshed finger. But there is also something very grand and quite timeless about him. Léger in 1919 had been in and out of the newly reopened Egyptian and Assyrian rooms in the Louvre, and he gave his mechanic a look of ancient art in the severe frontal pose of the torso and the right-angled turn of the head on the neck. The mechanic meets us both head-on and in profile, as he might in an Assyrian relief.

Behind him, in terms of geometric flat planes and brilliant color, is the ideal place of work: the factory that never was. Looking at the casquelike cut of his forehead and cheekbones, we see immediately that this man is at one with his machines and could wish for no greater fulfillment than to be in charge of them.

Léger himself was not of industrial origins, and he never in his life worked in a factory. The son of a cattle breeder, he was born in 1881 and grew up on his father’s farm in Normandy. His father was a giant of a man, and quick to come to blows when crossed. If he had not died suddenly while Fernand was still in school, there would never have been any question of his son being allowed to stray from the family business. Léger got started in Paris as an art student in 1903 and made a meager living as an architect’s draftsman, to begin with, and as a retoucher for a portrait photographer. He impressed his friends in Paris by the inherited solidity of his build; with his abundant red hair, his countrified freckles, and his general air of rude health and good spirits, he was very much the farmer’s son.

His was an accepting nature. He took change for granted, and welcomed it. That a new world should produce a new kind of art seemed to him not merely natural but axiomatic. Old-style aesthetes might wince to see red and yellow billboards set up among the halftones of the French countryside; Léger thought it was the best thing that could happen. New sights, new idioms, and new responses were what he lived by. “Modern man,” he said in 1914, “has to take in a hundred times as many impressions as came his way in the eighteenth century. Is it surprising that our language is full of diminutives and abbreviations? If modern paintings are highly condensed, and if the forms with them are taken apart and redistributed, it’s for the same reason.”

Léger by that time was a friend of poets like Apollinaire and Cendrars, and a friend and prized colleague of painters like Robert Delaunay and Le Douanier Rousseau. Like Picasso, Braque, Derain, Vlaminck, and Juan Gris, he showed his work in Paris at D. H. Kahnweiler’s little gallery near the Madeleine. He stood apart from the others, even so, in that when he tried his hand at a major work—the Nudes in the Forest of 1909–10—he instinctively chose a subject that involved people at work: naked woodsmen hacking away at tree trunks. It was a difficult, gloomy, almost monochromatic painting: the result of a long struggle, a “battle of volumes” as he said himself, to build the third dimension on flat canvas. “I wasn’t ready for color,” he said later.

Yet color was fundamental to modern life. The dynamic of that life, said Léger, was on the side of the poster in the street and the advertisement that lit up at night. “Post No Bills” was a ridiculous formula, well worthy of the society that sponsored it. “It’s the taste of the middle class that’s against posters,” he went on. “The peasant is made of stronger stuff. Look how he likes a strong contrast of color in his clothes! A man like that isn’t going to be scared by a billboard in a meadow.”

Machinery had new color, too. Léger never forgot how he went to a pioneer aviation show in Paris with Marcel Duchamp and Brancusi. As they walked among the prehistoric aircraft, with their exposed machinery and huge wooden propellers, Duchamp grew more and more silent. Suddenly he said: “Painting’s finished. How can we possibly compete with those propellers?” “I preferred the motors, myself,” Léger would say as he told the story, “but then I always preferred metal to wood.”

Léger had his fill of metal when he was drafted into the French army in 1914. Both as an artilleryman, from 1914 to 1916, and later as a stretcher bearer on the Verdun front, he saw as much as anyone of the horrors of war. But he never discussed them. What moved him was the human quality of his fellow soldiers and the immediate, unaffected beauty of the guns that he had to fire. He had been on the very edge, in 1912 and 1913, of a purely abstract art: an art based on contrasted forms that had no reference to the visible world. No sooner was he in the army than activity of that kind began to seem to him both petty and futile.

“There I was,” he said later, “on an equal footing with the totality of the French people. My new comrades were miners, laborers, metalworkers, woodcutters.… What faces they had! What a shrewd, lively, and completely down-to-earth understanding of everything that went on! They were true poets in their everyday speech, so vivid and so inventive in their slang. And then the sight of the open breech of a 75mm cannon! The magic of the light on that white metal! One taste of all that, and I forgot about abstract art.”

Léger was gassed at Verdun, and at the end of 1917 he was let out of the hospital and discharged from the army. But to the day of his death, in 1955, he never forgot the strength, the endurance, the total realism, the quick wit, and the uncomplaining good sense of his comrades-in-arms. Nor did he stop believing that civilian life would one day reward them for their offhand and undeceived heroism. If his paintings could bring that day nearer, or if they could indicate the conditions in which it would come about, so much the better. He was, however, very careful at the start not to sentimentalize the working man, or to assign him a more important place in the cities of the future than he would actually occupy.

In the great metropolitan paintings that Léger produced in 1919 and 1920—above all, in The City—human beings play a subordinate part. Objects among other objects, they are not individualized: individuality was kept for moments when, as in The Mechanic, the working man was off duty and could smoke a cigarette. But he was not diminished, in Léger’s eyes, by his objecthood. Rather, it raised him to the same level—that of a functional elegance, a stripped-down beauty without precedent—that was the mark of every other element in the new metropolitan scene.

Not everyone, of course, looked with such favor on the first machine age. In the early 1920s Karl Čapek’s R.U.R. was welcomed in theaters all over the world for its defeatist preview of robot society. In 1932 René Clair’s À nous la liberté was enormously popular for its portrait of the dehumanizing effect of industrialization. Chaplin’s Modern Times (1936) is a further and definitive example of this same disenchantment. But Léger did not stand alone in his optimistic approach to the problems of the postwar world. In the social strivings of the 1920s the machine had a fundamental, and it was hoped a benevolent, part to play.

Léger made new friends who agreed with him on these issues—especially the great architect Le Corbusier, who in 1925 gave him his first opportunity as a mural painter. Léger also involved himself in filmmaking, stage design, and book illustration. He had a sure instinct for the people with whom it would be most worthwhile to collaborate: Darius Milhaud in music, André Malraux as a beginner in literature, Abel Gance and Man Ray in the cinema. What he did in association with them reached, as often as not, only a small audience, but he never quite lost the expansionist dream—the notion of a world in which art would be for everyone and everyone would be for art.

By 1924, it seemed to him as though that world was almost in sight, if only people would acknowledge it. There was no limit to the potential of the machine as a creator of beauty. There was no reason why, not only the shopwindows and billboards, but the entire architecture of the city street should not be a carnival for the eye. The automobile shows of the mid-1920s would have emptied the museums and bankrupted the theaters, in Léger’s view, if it were not for what he called “the hierarchical prejudice.” “There are no hierarchies in art,” he said over and over again; it was for the skilled craftsman to realize that what he produced was more beautiful than most of what people went to see in the Louvre.

The role of color in all this was primordial, and Léger never lost an opportunity of listing the benefits that would follow from the liberation of color in everyday life. He told Trotsky about them, when he and Trotsky met in Montparnasse during World War I. He told his students about them, when he lectured at Yale in 1938. And, quite rightly, he took a great pride in the fact of his own influence in the matter. “In 1919, I painted The City with pure colors laid flat on the canvas. It was a revolutionary step. I proved that a painter could discard chiaroscuro and discard modulation and yet still have depth in the picture. The advertising agencies soon took my point. My pure blues and reds and yellows were lifted from The City and put to work in posters and store windows, and by the side of the road, and in signals of every kind. Color had been set free. It was a reality in itself. It could act in itself and by itself, independently of all the objects which had previously had to contain or to carry it.…”

Léger had been to the United States for the first time in 1931. By October 1940, when he arrived there as a refugee, he knew his way around. Adaptable by nature, he thoroughly enjoyed himself in New York, and in the country near Lake Champlain, and even at La Guardia Field, where he liked to watch the aircraft come and go. He was polite and constructive in all his comments on America, and he acknowledged that certain of his dreams for society as a whole had been fulfilled there: in the spectacle of New York by night, for example. But he was quick to get back to France, in the winter of 1945, and once there, he set about renewing his lifelong love match with the French working class. He also let it be known that he had joined the French Communist Party.

It would be difficult at the present time to find a more conservative body of men—one more dependent, that is, on the status quo—than the French Communist Party. (This was made particularly clear in May 1968, when it was palpable to all that the last thing the French Communists wanted was to get power.) But in 1945 Léger thought quite sincerely that his adherence to the Party might bring nearer the day when the working classes would have the leisure to develop the new style of life that was theirs for the asking—and, in fact, he remained a Party member for the rest of his life. It had been very disagreeable for Léger to stand up in front of working-class audiences at the time of the Popular Front, in 1936–37, and be greeted with shouts of “You only work for the rich! Who wants to listen to you?” (It was not, however, so traumatic as to cause him to refuse a commission from Nelson Rocke-feller the next year.) Perhaps in a changed France all that could be changed, too?

It never was, really. If he was booed, it was no longer, admittedly, by the working class. I well remember the uproar that broke out in the stalls when Léger appeared in 1949 on the stage of the Opéra in Paris at the first performance of Milhaud’s Bolivar, for which he had designed the scenery. Aesthetic prejudice no doubt played a part in this, but the basic sound was that of the propertied classes baying for the Party member’s blood. The big commissions, however, still came from traditional sources: the Roman Catholic Church, above all. (“Nobody else asked me,” he would say, when taxed with escapism, “and I did so want to make big decorations.”) When he made paintings on the scale of epics, it was for himself primarily; and in his seventies he completed two huge complementary paintings on working-class themes—The Constructors in 1950 and The Great Parade in 1954.

These paintings do honor to Léger as a man: for his energy, his ambition, his largeness of heart. Léger had loved the circus all his life, and he tried to sum up his feelings for it in The Great Parade; The Constructors is a last salute to the children and grandchildren of the men with whom he had served in World War I. But there is a great difference between a painting that corresponds to an urgent social need—to something that has to be said—and one that does not. The two late paintings relate to a France that had already passed into history. They are descriptive, and by implication sentimental, in a way that Léger would never have permitted himself thirty years earlier. The style aspires to grandeur, but without the radical invention that marked the Three Women of 1921. “I’m a painter,” Léger once said. “I’m not in the description business.”

If in these two late paintings he ended up in “the description business,” it was because that particular simplistic view of the working classes was no longer valid. The machine had not, after all, turned out to be the instrument of social liberation; and in just about every country in the world the hard-hat had become the henchman of reaction. Neither at work nor at play did the construction worker of the 1950s match up to the New Man Léger had put on canvas thirty years earlier. That specific impulse—and that specific art—had had its moment of validity in the 1920s. Art was the poorer for its disappearance; mankind, also.

The Message
JEANNETTE FERRARY

AS THE AUTHOR notes elsewhere in Out of the Kitchen: Adventures of a Food Writer, from which this piece is excerpted, there are enough recipes in the first volume of Mastering the Art of French Cooking “to keep a person occupied, not to mention two people, for a lifetime of dinner parties,” so she never expected to buy the second volume. And at the time (the early eighties), she had met writer Frances Mayes, who was still living in San Francisco and who had her own copy of the second volume, which she offered to lend (along with her charlotte mold) to Jeannette any time she wanted it.

Mayes and Ferrary signed up to join a cooking class taught by Simone Beck, one of the three original authors of Mastering, at her house in Provence, where they also had the opportunity to meet Julia Child at a cocktail party. “Julia greeted us with such embracing enthusiasm,” Ferrary writes, “there was no time to be awe-stricken, and no need. Meeting her felt like a reunion with someone I’d known but hadn’t quite met, a mere formality that had been overlooked until that moment.”

Of all the many interviews and articles written about Julia Child, I am partial to this story, a chapter in Out of the Kitchen (John Daniel & Company, 2004), a warm and wonderful book that deserves to be better known, and in which Ferrary shares stories of her Brooklyn childhood and recounts her beliefs and values (sometimes contradictory), all of them having to do with food.

JEANNETTE FERRARY teaches food writing at Stanford University and the University of California Berkeley, and has been a columnist for the New York Times and a book and restaurant reviewer for the San Francisco Chronicle. She is also the author of M. F. K. Fisher and Me (Thomas Dunne, 1998) and is coauthor, with Louise Fiszer, of six cookbooks, including A Good Day for Soup (Chronicle, 1996) and A Good Day for Salad (Chronicle, 1999).

 “YOU MADE WHAT for Julia Child’s lunch?”

I couldn’t believe my ears. The chef had been given the opportunity to prepare a box lunch for Julia Child. It was supposed to be casual and unfussy, just a little something before her afternoon appearance at Macy’s San Francisco. He packed it in a football-sized gift box tied with blue ribbons and was delivering it to the sort of backstage dressing room where Julia, her sister Dorothy, and I were waiting. I only hoped they hadn’t heard what he said. I took the boxes from him—there were three of them, one for each of us—and slid them onto a table by the door. Then I realized he was kidding; he must be kidding.

“Come on, tell me. What’s in them?”

He looked frazzled, an appropriate response for someone who had invested all his creative energies into the challenging but intimidating task of whipping up a box lunch for Julia Child. He also looked annoyed.

“I told you. Tuna fish sandwiches.”

Maybe he hadn’t realized which Julia Child he’d been asked to make lunch for. He’d slapped together a couple of sandwiches for some ordinary Julia Child, an earthling who hadn’t helped change the course of America’s eating habits in her twenty-five years—it was 1985—of cookbook writing and television cooking shows. Surely he knew not what he did—or didn’t do, as the case may be. Or perhaps the strain had been too much for him and he’d completely lost his mind. His eyes looked a bit jumpy, now that I peered more closely. Proof of his derangement surfaced almost immediately as Julia, attracted by the commotion, turned to greet him.

“Oh, hellooo, you’re the chef, aren’t you?” came the chortly tones, full of welcome and gratitude. The billowy abandon of her teal rayon blouse swarming with flickery white splotches contrasted with the workhorse immovability of a navy gabardine skirt. Cinnamon-orange hair, the same color as her lipstick, made thick, loopy curls across her forehead. She was smiling and talking, the metallic music of her voice pitched halfway between some kind of horn and a reed instrument not yet invented.

She shook the chef’s hand, commending him for going to all the trouble, advising him he shouldn’t have. She was right about the latter.

“I hope you like tuna fish sandwiches,” he blurted out with no shame or embarrassment, clearly out of touch with reality.

“Why, yes. We love tuna fish, don’t we, Dorothy?”

“Wonderful. I thought you would. Especially when I saw this magnificent specimen.” He went on to describe how he’d gone down to the fish market at dawn, poking and slapping a dozen different fish before deciding on the nice fat one he brought back to poach for these sandwiches.

I felt foolish for thinking any chef in his right mind would present Julia Child with a StarKist chicken of the sea. Meanwhile Julia never flinched. She’d already dived right in, unperturbed about whether her sandwich had begun with a can opener or a court bouillon. (I remembered M. F. K. Fisher telling me, in her unique mélange of praise and condemnation, “Julia will eat anything.”)

Over lunch, whenever I started to discuss the day’s program, the tuna kept getting in the way.

“Isn’t this just marvelous?” This a reference to the way the chef—“such a nice young man”—had cloaked the sweet chunks of fish with a creamy aioli that was “marvelously tart” and studded with chopped fennel instead of “ordinary old celery.” As for the sourdough, fire and smoke trapped in its crusty ridges and curves, he must have taken the loaves directly off the baking stones: that was the consensus. A lull between sandwich and dessert gave me my chance.

“Is there anything in particular you want me to say out there?”

No, she was sure whatever I said would be fine.

I felt surprisingly at ease myself about the day’s event, except for a disconcerting incident with the Macy’s PR person, who had just whispered an infuriating instruction that Julia didn’t know about. Whenever I interviewed Julia for an article, she always made it seem like we were friends, chatting. On a publicity tour for her previous book, Julia Child and More Company, she’d come to San Francisco to do a cooking demonstration and book signing, also at Macy’s. I joined the welcoming committee at seven in the morning at her hotel, the Huntington on Nob Hill. With an amused grin, she watched the parade of sleepy-eyed but fit-looking businessmen emerge from the elevator in shorts, look at her sheepishly—even MBAs recognize Julia Child—and trot across the street for their morning jog. At the store, Julia and her entourage had been led down an alley and into some sort of service-entrance back door, presided over by a neckless security guard who eyed Julia suspiciously.

“Who is that woman?” he asked, his eyes following her every move. I was tempted to answer, “Why, that’s the Lone Ranger,” but I wasn’t sure he’d see the humor in it, considering the hour.

One of Julia’s friends and assistants, Rosemary Manell, had already started pulling rabbits and onions out of grocery bags, assisted by Pam Henstell from Knopf, the book’s publisher. After taking a few pictures for my article, I offered to help, truly honored when Julia handed me a head of garlic and asked me to mince it finely. Determined to do an impeccable job, I carefully pried out two or three cloves. I rubbed them between my fingers in a massage-like motion, trying to coax off the papery covering. Instead of slipping off smoothly like a satin robe, it just crinkled and crumbled. What did come off glued itself onto my fingers; the rest of it didn’t budge. Using my fingernails, I scraped and clawed around the stubborn little cloves to no avail. Still attempting to appear unruffled and competent, I reached for a nearby paring knife and began carving the surface of the clove, finally whittling it down to the size of an olive pit. This I cut into three or four slices on the bias, not unimpressed with my own handiwork. I became aware that Julia was standing perfectly still, watching my every move. Play your cards right, Julia, I was thinking of saying, and I shall reveal my secrets of garlic sculpting.

“Jeannette?” she called out as if it were a question. “What are you doing?” There was a suggestion in her tone of voice that there was a right way to mince a garlic and this wasn’t it by an order of magnitude. I could protest that the method had definitely not been included in Simone Beck’s course at L’École des Trois Gourmands, but this wasn’t the time or the place.

Shaking her head as if in disbelief, she grabbed another clove and slammed down on it with the flat side of a giant saber, smashing it to a pulp. Then she worked the blade over it until it was practically liquid. As for the papery stuff, it lay on the chopping block in tatters.

“Thanks,” I said, gathering up the remaining cloves. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

She just laughed, unfazed by the crescendo of crowd-gathering sounds just outside the auditorium. Someone was adjusting the overhead mirrors so that those in the back could see her sautéing mushrooms and green onions and the garlic that Rosemary had kindly rescued me from. Once the doors were opened—the floodgates might be a more accurate term—people swarmed in. Most were women, all ages and descriptions, all with the same look of awe on their faces. As Julia’s first squawky words trilled their way across the reverently silent throng, the group complexion softened into smiles, then grins and wide, throaty laughs. They were eating out of the palm of her hand and they weren’t even eating.

After the demo, she signed about a million books and then she wanted to visit the cookware department. As we stepped into the elevator, a few people recognized her instantly. Hardly able to contain their excitement, they poked their friends or whoever was closest, rolling their eyes in Julia’s direction, mouthing their message: “That’s Julia Child.” When the elevator opened, Julia noticed an in-store post office, walked over, and stood in line. Her height alone made her a presence, so it wasn’t long before the person in front of her turned his head discreetly to take the mea-sure of whatever was looming over him. He immediately began to babble.

“Oh, it’s you. Oh my goodness. Julia Child. Please,” he said, stepping aside with a bit of a flourish, begging her to go ahead. Seconds later, all the others became aware of the stir and then each of them in turn stepped aside in a kind of domino effect. She would have none of it.

“No. I’m in no hurry. Absolutely not,” she protested, directing everyone back into line.

A few weeks after this event, she wrote me a postcard: “It was fun being with you that day, and I hope we can renew the experience with or without garlic!”

That wasn’t the only time I’d seen Julia since meeting her at Simca’s in 1978. I enjoyed writing about her gastrobatics, her jolly nature, and her contagious humor. She was eminently quotable: “If cooking is evanescent, well, so is the ballet”; men were often better cooks because they have a “what the hell attitude.” And her advice to cooks, perhaps even more relevant to writers: “Above all, have a good time,” she counseled, but “keep your knives sharp.”

I’d written an article about her appearance at a benefit for the Children’s Garden in San Francisco’s Palace of Fine Arts; I’d reported on the evening she and René Verdon cooked dinner at his San Francisco restaurant, Le Trianon, as a benefit for KQED, the public television station. I’d even interviewed her about her favorite San Francisco restaurants: “…  Once we went to Mike’s Chinese Cuisine on the advice of Jack Shelton. I think it was over on Geary. We thought it was extremely good.” She also mentioned, in passing, Campton Place, Le Trianon, L’Étoile, and Masa’s, which “we found very ethereal.”

For me, Julia embodied and resolved the enigma concerning women and food. She did so-called women’s work and she liked it. Not only that but she derived success and fame from it, maybe even fortune. She’d harnessed her interest in food into a viable career if not a full-fledged mythology, and at an age when most women, and especially most men, aren’t venturing into a new and extraordinarily public territory. She was almost fifty when Mastering was published, fifty-one when she first appeared on TV as the French Chef.

These accomplishments had seemed the perfect subject for an article for Ms. Magazine. Aware that there was a certain undeniable irony about Ms. Magazine honoring a woman’s achievements in the field of cookery, I was confident the editor would see this as an opportunity to say that true liberation means a woman can pursue any field she chooses, even cooking!

The editors didn’t see it that way. “Very nice but not particularly feminist” came the hand-scribbled verdict clipped to my returned manuscript. I was embarrassed by the Ms. rejection because, like so many women who greeted the very first issue, in 1971, with a sense of triumph and who had subscribed instantaneously, I considered the magazine my own. It spoke for me. It ranted and raved for me. It was strong enough and smart enough to counter all the demeaning and belittling and devaluing that went on in Playboy and Esquire and Penthouse put together. I couldn’t explain the editors’ appraisal, so I decided to send it to Julia, along with a copy of my review of her book, Julia Child and More Company, which had just been published in the San Francisco Bay Guardian. She wrote back that she “loved both those articles.… I thought the one rejected by Ms. was especially good and also very amusing. You certainly write well!”

And so, as Julia, Dorothy, and I sat there eating our tuna fish sandwiches, I was glad Macy’s had asked me to interview her that day. The event celebrated her newest venture, a series of videotapes in which she explained and demonstrated basic cooking techniques, garlic mincing undoubtedly among them.

Nestled beside me was my own newest venture, a copy of The California-American Cookbook, just published by Simon & Schuster. I had already autographed this copy to Julia Child and had been waiting for the auspicious moment. And then, a few moments before, there had been this nasty business with the rules-are-rules, scowl-infested Macy’s PR person. This was the same Macy’s PR person who had promised that if I did this interview, it would be worth more than mere money, a commodity she insisted was in short supply at Macy’s. I wasn’t too savvy in the ways of book promotion, but I assumed one could do worse than to introduce one’s new book in front of the Child-revering masses within buying distance of Macy’s bookstore. Just a few sentences, I’d been told, but enough to give the audience the flavor of the book. This moment in the sun would, she whined apologetically, more than make up for the paltry sum Macy’s was paying for doing the interview and might even result in the book’s first avalanche of sales. Visions of cookbook-ravenous women stampeding down the aisles to lay claim to a copy of The California-American Cookbook had just stopped dancing in my head.

“You are not to mention your book today,” the Macy’s PR person commanded in scolding tones, her brow a landscape of petrified frowns. “This event is about Julia Child’s new videotapes and we don’t want anything to detract from that.” When I protested that this was a breach of our agreement, she turned on her heel with a little smirk as if to say if I was dumb enough to trust Macy’s, I had only myself to blame. I was wondering if any jury would convict me if I murdered her there on the spot when I noticed the gleam in Julia’s eyes, her whole face in bloom. She was looking at my book.

“How beautiful!” she said, flipping through the pages. “You must be thrilled.”

“Oh, I, well, yes, actually, and we, my coauthor and I, we autographed this copy to you.”

“Thank you so much. Wonderful. Simon and Schuster, very good people. Tell me, how did you come to do the book?” I explained that I had not been enthusiastic when my agent first mentioned my writing a cookbook because, although I embraced any opportunity to write about food, I didn’t consider myself a cook who could whip up two hundred original recipes. Julia nodded an all-too-understanding nod, possibly recalling my garlic butchery of a few years before. I kept scanning her face for signs of incipient yawning as I related probably too many details about developing a book about California’s historical romance with food. As for the recipes, I’d chanced upon an article in the New York Times about a woman named Louise Fiszer who taught cooking in her own little cooking school/cookware shop in Menlo Park, about twenty minutes from me. I was captivated by the style and spirit of her recipes and the way they seemed to convey the kind of California message I wanted to write about.

I called Louise at her shop and she invited me over. We got along instantly, intrigued by the many parallels in our lives. We both came from Brooklyn, only miles from each other; we were two weeks apart in age; we both had recently bought a newfangled contraption called a computer that neither of us knew how to use.

Once we started to develop the book proposal, we worked beautifully together, dividing tasks, respecting each other’s opinions, resolving differences, of which there were incredibly few, if any, with no hurt feelings or wounded egos. We even learned, because it was essential to our project, how to work on the computer using the brain-straining word processing system called WordStar. Our agent received wildly enthusiastic responses to our proposal from several New York publishers—or more correctly put, he masterminded those responses by creating a bit of a frenzy and cultivating a bidding war mentality. To seal the deal, Simon & Schuster offered us a contract for $50,000. Not bad for 1983 and two unknown authors of their first book.

Strictly speaking, it was my third book proposal, the first being “The Last-Minute Epicure” with Frances Mayes. The second was a cookbook concept I developed with—or in spite of—Judy Rodgers, a young cook at the Union Hotel in the small Northern California town of Benicia. She insisted she had no time to work on the book proposal per se, so she gave me a sheaf of her menus which I used to create the table of contents. After I finished the proposal and began to receive enthusiastic responses from publishers, Judy decided she didn’t want to do the book after all. It was too American, too Californian. She was afraid that a book about contemporary cooking would typecast her, that she’d lose credibility as a French chef before she even had any. I was crushed at the time, although I realized that if the book proceeded as it had to date, it would be a one-sided coauthorship.

“And so,” Julia asked, bringing me out of this annoyingly vivid reverie, “is your collaboration with Louise a good one?”

“Yes. The best,” is all I said, with a smile prompted by recalling my friend Frances’s summing up of the situation: “The fact that it didn’t work out with JR almost makes you believe in God.”

“Well, this is a beautiful book indeed. You and Louise should be very proud.”

A few minutes later, we walked onto Macy’s makeshift stage greeted by the thunderous applause of a crowd that packed the airplane-hangar-sized room. I gave my little speech about Julia’s impact on all of our lives and her venture into the new world of videotaped cooking lessons. When I passed the microphone to Julia, the walls seemed to be caving in from the room-rattling temblors of applause.

Holding up a copy of one of the videotapes, she waved to the cheering masses. The decibel level decrescendoed only when she started to speak. That’s when I realized it wasn’t a videotape she had in her hand: it was my book.

“Come on. Don’t be shy. Show everyone this beautiful new book. This is Jeannette’s new book, The California-American Cookbook,” she called out, reading the cover to the audience. “It’s full of absolutely marvelous recipes.”

More clapping from the obedient Child-adorers, a bit subdued and possibly even confused (Jeannette? Who’s Jeannette?), but an ovation nonetheless. On stage left, Macy’s PR scowler was gnashing her teeth. I bestowed upon her one of my sweetest smiles.

Before Julia finished her talk, the audience was already furiously buying sets of her videotapes and mushrooming toward the stage to have her autograph them. I had to act fast. I pulled a big white apron out of a shopping bag and laid it before her.

“Would you please sign this to my four-year-old daughter, Natasha?”

“Of course,” she said, scrawling all across the front, in bright blue ink, “To Natasha. Bon Appétit. Julia Child.”

“Does she like to cook?” she asked, intently dotting all three i’s.

It was a logical question, considering the circumstances. It didn’t seem to require deep philosophical reflection. But it made me wonder if I should be giving my daughter an apron after all, if this was one of those things that were “very nice but not particularly feminist.” Would I be reinforcing the traditional girlie messages, blurring for Natasha the distinctions I’d tried to make clear for myself? Ideally I didn’t want my daughter even to know that there was a time when women couldn’t do whatever they wanted; and even though that time was still very much with us at her four-year mark in 1985, there were indications that her generation might feel its constrictions less strongly. Their talents and potential might flourish, if not unhampered at least less encumbered. That is, if they weren’t confused by gifts of aprons and other such symbol-laden trinkets.

As I tucked the apron back into the bag, I took a last serious look at it. For a second I was startled. How could I have missed something so obvious? Of course this apron would make a fine present for my daughter, for anybody’s daughter. Its message was not “Stand by the stove” or “This is your life” or “Anatomy is destiny.” Far from it. Its message was “Bon Appétit.”

We’ll Always Have Paris
STACY SCHIFF

WHEN THE AUTHOR of this piece and her family left Paris after a year there, they had more suitcases than they cared to count (though the number was significantly less than the 126 Benjamin Franklin reportedly had upon his departure in 1783). But even her then ten-year-old son had to admit the family had had an experience that couldn’t be measured by suitcases.

STACY SCHIFF, a noted biographer, has received fellowships from the Guggenheim Foundation and the National Endowment for the Humanities. She’s the author of A Great Improvisation: Franklin, France, and the Birth of America (Henry Holt, 2005), Cleopatra: A Life (Little, Brown, 2010), Saint Exupéry: A Biography (Knopf, 1994), and Vera (Mrs. Vladimir Nabokov): Portrait of a Marriage (Random House, 1999), which won a Pulitzer Prize for biography.

 THE OBSESSION TOOK hold in New York, which posed a problem: what I wanted to write about next was Ben Franklin’s eighteenth-century adventure in France. On some level, I knew from the start that the only way to research that book was to move our family, for some period of time, to Paris. And from the start—even as friends enviously asked if we would do so—I dreaded the prospect. Generally Paris is not considered a hardship posting, save to someone who values efficiency, candor, and Sichuan takeout. Nor was this to be a larky, lighthearted school year abroad. Paris means Angélina’s chocolat chaud and the Tuileries at dusk and the Rodin Museum and Pierre Hermé, but it is also a city, I had come to learn, of phone repairmen, plumbers, and dentists, the vast majority of them French. With age, the dislocations tend to announce themselves less as bracing, extra-carbonated mental states than as crippling tornadoes of small details.

In part I suppose I dreaded what can only be termed my own devolution. Whereas at home I am organized, competent, and semiarticulate, I am in France awkward and incapable. I can be deaf to nuance; some frequencies elude me entirely. Franklin was very clear about the fact that a man sacrifices half his intelligence in a foreign language, but he had plenty of intelligence to spare. (He moaned especially that his humor fell flat on the page, as indeed it did.) Even without a language barrier, I knew myself to be handicapped. At any moment I am likely to revert to my Anglo-Saxon habits, to forget not to lay a finger on the greengrocer’s tomatoes, not to reach for my boulangerie change before it is counted, not to order my sandwich before my café crème. (My husband falls in a different category. A Frenchman raised on foreign soil, he passes for a native until confronted with a cheese tray, at which juncture his passport is nearly revoked. He once left a Normandy innkeeper dumbstruck by asking, in unaccented French, what precisely un potage jardinier consisted of. Imagine a native New Englander inquiring after a definition of clam chowder.) There was one other deterrent, too, one that the biographer Richard Holmes has identified: “Writers of course are always slightly ashamed at not being at their desks, especially in Paris, where they might be out—having a good time, mon dieu.

We figured that the one-year-old wouldn’t object to the plan but assumed that some finessing might be in order for the eight- and ten-year-olds. Which may explain why we broke the news at the Café de Flore a semester beforehand, over cafés liégeois and éclairs au chocolat, the blackmailing parent’s best friends. The eight-year-old was an immediate convert. The ten-year-old succumbed neither to the sugar rush nor to the pandering. He made it clear that he would not be decamping to Paris until France fielded a major-league baseball team. And it was he who—on the August day we headed off to JFK with our fifteen suitcases—planted himself on the steaming sidewalk and refused to budge. It was also he who planted himself on the sidewalk and refused to budge a year later, when we headed to Charles de Gaulle with more bags than any of us bothered to count. They were at least fewer than the 126 with which Franklin headed home, baggage that included three Angora cats, a printing press, a sampling of mineral waters, and a variety of saplings.

By a happy quirk, we found an apartment in Franklin’s old neighborhood, less hilly today than it was in the 1770s. There were other modern-day advantages as well. No fewer than six boulangeries stand along the mile that separated Franklin’s home from that of John Adams. Franklin had to make that walk on an empty stomach, something I never did. There was, after all, pressing pain au chocolat research to be done. We lived fifteen minutes from Versailles, an expedition that took Franklin two dusty hours by carriage. When we bicycled in the Bois de Boulogne, we crossed the lawn where Franklin followed the first manned balloon as it rose into the sky in 1783, something he did with considerable anxiety. We were two very different Americans in Paris, but I delighted in the overlay of our lives. It did what a foreign adventure is supposed to do—it made the mundane thrilling. Along the route Franklin traveled twice every week, to the home of the woman he hoped to seduce (as opposed to the one he wanted to marry), was the lovely Congolese tailor who lengthened our son’s pants before the start of the school year. Picking up the dry cleaning qualifies as less of a chore when you are doing so on ground you know Ben Franklin and John Adams have trodden before you. And I could always justify shopping at the pricey ice cream shop on the rue Bois-le-Vent. It seemed nearly obligatory to do so, given that the shop stands where the back door to Franklin’s home once had. Moreover, it seemed dangerous not to, as the shop hours were erratic, a universal signal of artistic integrity but a guarantee of greatness in France.

To France America sent as her first emissary a man who confessed he was wholly indifferent to food. (And one who was ignorant about it in the extreme: it was his conviction that there was no butter in French sauces.) Franklin ate well but pined for a good Indian pudding, a piece of salt pork, Newton Pippin apples, walnuts. We had an easier time fending off homesickness. Never has our family eaten as many H&H bagels as we did in Paris; they could be had, frozen, at a little store on the rue de Grenelle, conveniently on my way home from the diplomatic archives. And so breakfast became an odd binational affair—bagels with Kiri, the French spreadable that most closely resembles Philadelphia cream cheese. One thing that immediately fell off our radar was Chinese food, much though the cravings for sesame noodles and pork dumplings continued. Just as the word teamwork is missing from the French language, so are the concepts “family style” and “for the table.” To attempt a Sichuan or Hunan meal without sharing is to defeat the purpose of the exercise. Inevitably one is left to covet one’s neighbor’s plate.

On the other hand, Thanksgiving in Paris was a dead ringer for Thanksgiving at home, save for the much-missed butternut squash, and the fact that everything tasted better. I don’t know whom we have to thank—I fear it may be Hallmark—but Parisian butchers have come a long way since the first time I ordered a grosse dinde in November, nearly twenty years ago. “Oh, is it for your American rite?” asked the butcher, with a squint of the eye generally reserved for Jewish-Masonic conspiracies. Now those grosses dindes come with a side order of miniature American flags. In New York we are Pilgrims, but in Paris we are Americans.

We had one great advantage over Franklin: we spoke French. Franklin rarely acknowledged that minor handicap, although he did refer to contracts that had been signed in his first year, when misapprehension was the order of the day. Even a bilingual family came in for its share of surprises, however. There was the hockey coach who chain-smoked on the ice. (There were also the unforgiving stares to be endured in the Métro when traveling with an eight-year-old in full hockey equipment, especially as that child was a girl.) School recess may well have taken place in the magnificent Parc Monceau, but one did not a) set foot on the grass, b) throw a ball, c) throw anything resembling a ball. In turn, the flying scarves, the chestnuts, the bottle caps were confiscated. The school week is cleverly configured to keep mothers from working (home for lunch; half-day Wednesday; four-hour birthday parties). The academic calendar is configured to keep teachers from having to work more than three weeks straight.

Some of the frustrations were maddeningly familiar. The problem is less one of language than of the sterling example set—and the expectations harbored—by North American efficiency. It is almost impossible to shake the Anglo-Saxon concern that you are holding up the line, a qualm that does not exist in France, where it is one’s privilege and responsibility to do so. Quite simply, ours is a service economy. France’s is not. A café waiter is meant to do his job, but that job is most decidedly not to guarantee the satisfaction of his customer. Rather it is the customer’s job to admire the professionalism of the waiter, the expertise with which he can flick a baguette crumb into oblivion, his unerring capacity to make change. Stocking the larder is a full-time job, more so even than in Franklin’s day, when the fruit seller and the pâtissier and the laitier delivered their goods to the door. (Judging from his household accounts, Franklin had a hearty and prescient taste for apple pie.) Early on the ten-year-old delivered up the paradox of Parisian life: in that city, one accomplishes precisely half of what one sets out that morning to accomplish. Which means that if one heads out with only one thing to do, one has a problem.

France is a country hidebound by regulations; the national sport consists of gracefully subverting them. The trick is not to follow the rules, but to avoid getting caught breaking them. It is Casablanca on a grand scale. One adapts quickly but sometimes ambivalently, especially since this is not necessarily the lesson one cares to impart to one’s American children. 2002 was an election year in France, which meant several things. It meant there was a strike of some kind pretty much every minute; one might call the Louvre to confirm that the children’s weekend class was in session, only to hike across town to discover that, indeed, class was not canceled, but that the building was locked tight. (The opposite might also be true. The post office was open, but the employees on strike.) The library staff might well be in place—except those who delivered titles from shelves L through S. Under the highly regulated exterior all is chaos: The order at a piano recital is whoever wants to go first. The TV news starts at a set time—and continues until the news is finished, a signal triumph of content over form. There may be a hockey bus to convey the team to Meudon, or there may not. (Naturally this non-truth requires three phone calls to establish.) There is no such thing as a Gallic work ethic, and in an election year there is no constituency that is too dignified, or too disenfranchised, to strike. In the course of the year, the emergency room doctors, the gendarmerie, the teachers, the unemployed—all walked out on strike. Everything is predicated on the crucial except, and exceptionellement quickly became our favorite word in the French language. The exception of the day became a staple of our dinner conversation.

Election year brought with it lessons apart from the political ones. As every Frenchman knows, all driving violations are promptly pardoned by the incoming Président de la République. It is his gift to the people of France; it is the modern-day version of royal prerogative; it is the tradition every candidate must vow to uphold. Which means that for the months leading up to any presidential election, all speed and traffic laws are de facto suspended. (Road fatalities rise accordingly.) Essentially what this means is that any piece of Parisian surface—sidewalk, driveway, bus stop—suddenly qualifies as a parking space. Quickly we went native; our children seemed ambivalent about what they termed our “rural parking.” What kind of lesson, they asked, were we imparting? The lesson we were imparting was, should our children ever settle in France, they had better get with the program, or they will be circling the block eternally.

And then there is that staple of French life: the specious argument. After a full day’s drive to the country, fully wilted, we inquire in a restaurant at five p.m. if there might be anything on hand to eat. No, is the answer. Not even an ice cream? Well, yes, of course, comes the reply. We got very good at playing Go Fish. Also at heading off the brand of logistical display we had encountered years earlier on an Air France flight, when we attempted to settle the firstborn in the airline’s bassinet. He did not fit. The bassinet was for children under two. Ergo, reasoned the indignant stewardess, the child was not under the age of two. (As his passport duly attested, he was nine months old. Under other circumstances, my outsize American children have elicited plaudits, of the kind a Great Dane wins in a city of poodles. “Ça, madame,” offered a well-dressed gentleman in the Jardin du Ranelagh one day, pointing to a different nine-month-old, “Ça, madame, c’est un bébé.”)

Go Fish is a game I can play. A different tournament will forever stand between me and French nationality. That is the sport essential to French life: I pontificate, therefore I am. Between Passy and Saint-Germain, a royalist taxi driver worked himself into a fever one night over Chirac’s misdeeds and the pressing need to reinstall the Bourbon heir (rather than the Orléans pretender) to the throne of France. His diatribe, and his reliquary of a taxi, may be the last thing our children forget about the year abroad.

Some mysteries of our new life went unsolved. Is there anything the French can’t advertise with cleavage? How is it possible that twenty-first-century Paris could still boast Turkish toilets? Why does the milk not need to be refrigerated? Why does the shampoo not lather? Certain things were best left unexplained, like the gaggle of short-skirted teenagers who congregated across the street from the apartment, rain or shine. “Have you ever wondered when those girls go to school?” asked the eight-year-old. Fortunately, she never noticed that those prodigies spent their day getting in and out of cars with out-of-town plates, cars which reliably delivered them back to the corner an hour later. At least they dressed respectably, as opposed to their sisters (and faux sisters) a block deeper into the Bois de Boulogne. There were two jogging itineraries: my Felliniesque own, and the less scenic route, which I took when running with the children.

In the end, though, the pleasures exceeded the familiar physical glories and culinary delights. One lives better in Europe, not only on account of the cheeses and the three-hour lunches and the enforced weekend. One does so thanks to SOS Couscous, whose deliverymen ladle dinner from dented metal casseroles; on account of pediatricians who pay house calls and orthodontists who take appointments until nine p.m.; because the playgrounds are vastly superior, free as they are from liability issues. There is good coffee and steak frites even at the hockey rink, where the adults are blessedly oblivious to the game. And the parent of a school-age child saves countless hours: there are no bake sales, no safety patrol, no home games. The last thing any French school administration cares to encounter in its hallways is a parent. We came nearly to take for granted those built-in privileges of a socialist country: when making travel arrangements, when buying shoes, when visiting a museum, we were entitled to a discount as a card-carrying “famille nombreuse.” (Woe to any famille nombreuse that attempts a dinner in a good French restaurant, however. At least until the two-year-old orders oysters.)

As it happened, we had something else in common with Franklin. While I waited to pick the children up from school one fall afternoon, my Parisian sister-in-law called to report that a plane had flown into the World Trade Center. I assumed she meant that a crazy student pilot had done so until I got home and turned on the television. From that moment on Americans in Paris were few on the ground. As she had been in the eighteenth century, America was naked and vulnerable again. “Nous sommes tous Américains,” blared the headlines, and any cabdriver who heard a whisper of English was happy not only to ask where we were from—for once New York was the proper answer, rather than California—but to offer sympathy and thanks for 1945. For the worst reasons imaginable, we enjoyed a taste of the fervor for the New World that Franklin had so effectively cultivated in the Old. A friend who was treated to a rare viewing of original Proust papers asked afterward why he had been so lucky. “Consider it repayment for June 6,” he was told, just after the fiftieth anniversary of D-Day. Say the words “Benjamin Franklin” and you elicit a smile from a Frenchman. On days when I wasn’t smiling, I made a point of coming home via the Place du Trocadéro, over which a bronze Franklin presides. Sometimes I felt closer to him there than I did in the archives. That is the blessed thing about France: the history is always close to the surface. I suppose it was why we went.

Le Père Tanguy
HENRI PERRUCHOT

HERE IS A piece about a person who, outside of art history circles, is little known to the museumgoing general public. But le père Tanguy—Father Tanguy?—has long been one of my favorite personalities of the French Impressionist period, and he is the subject of one of my favorite paintings by Van Gogh, in the permanent collection of the Musée Rodin.

  

  

Van Gogh painted three portraits of Tanguy, with the canvas in the Musée Rodin (circa 1887) being the most famous. The portrait shows Tanguy as an elderly man wearing a Breton straw hat against a background of colorful Japanese prints. At this time in the late 1800s, Japan was just beginning to open up to the Western world, and Japanese porcelain was being exported to France. The porcelain was wrapped in tissue paper decorated with prints of Japanese art, and it was from these sheets of tissue paper that the Impressionists were inspired to adopt several Eastern techniques in their own works. Japanese prints became all the rage then in Paris. Not only Van Gogh but also Manet, Monet, Degas, and Toulouse-Lautrec—who signed his works with a stamp bearing the initials TL, borrowed from the Japanese tradition of hanko, seals of stone, horn, or wood used in lieu of signatures on personal and business documents—experimented with foreshortening and a flattening of figures portrayed in their canvases, borrowing from the Japanese style. In such works as Portrait of Émile Zola by Degas (in the Musée d’Orsay), a Japanese screen and prints can be seen in the background of the seated Zola.

This piece also tells of how Tanguy’s modest color-grinder’s shop became a shrine of sorts of Impressionist and Post-impressionist painting.

HENRI PERRUCHOT was the author of many works on nineteenth-century painters, including Cézanne, Gauguin, Manet, Rousseau, Renoir, and Seurat, and contributed numerous essays to art publications. This piece originally appeared in the distinctive French art review L’Oeil, and later, for the first time in English, in Aspects of Modern Art: The Selective Eye III (Reynal & Company, 1957).

  ALL WITNESSES ARE agreed on the subject of “le père Tanguy.” He played a preponderant role in the dazzling renewal of French painting at the end of the nineteenth century. Just after he died Octave Mirbeau said of him that “the story of his humble and upright life is inseparable from the history of the Impressionist group … and when that history comes to be written, Tanguy will have his place in it.” He couldn’t have been more right. Maurice Denis once said that his little shop in the rue Clauzel was the “origin of the great gust of fresh air that blew new life into French art in and around the year 1890”; and Émile Bernard would have it that “the so-called Pont Aven school would be more accurately named the Rue Clauzel school.”

Julien-François Tanguy was a Breton. He was born on June 28, 1825, half a dozen miles from Saint-Brieuc, in a village in the commune of Plédran, where his father was a weaver. The fifth child of a very poor, indeed almost penniless family, he went to Saint-Brieuc while still very young, and began life as a plasterer. In 1855, when he was thirty, he married a charcutière, abandoned his former trade, and helped his wife to market her ham and sausages. Whether he disliked being a pork butcher, or whether they just couldn’t make a go of it, is not known: but in any case, in 1860, he and his wife, and the little daughter who had been born to them meanwhile, made off to Paris. There, Tanguy was employed by the Compagnie de l’Ouest until in 1865 he found work as a color-grinder with the firm of Édouard in the rue Clauzel, which at that time had a great reputation among artists. Soon after this he set up on his own, prepared his own colors, and hawked them himself in those parts of France which were becoming popular among open-air painters. So it was that he came to know Pissarro, Manet, Renoir, Monet, Cézanne—all of them then more or less unknown—at Barbizon, or Ecouen, or Argenteuil, or Sarcelles…

Unfortunately the war of 1870 interrupted all this and embroiled “Papa Tanguy” in a sequence of catastrophic adventures. What happened exactly is still a little obscure, but it’s beyond question that at the time of the Commune Tanguy was one of the Fédérés. He was taken prisoner, sent to Satory, court-martialled and found guilty. He was sent to Brest, and there rotted until one of his fellow Bretons, the academic painter Jobbé-Duval, who was a member of the Paris Conseil Municipal, managed to get him a pardon.

He was back in Paris in 1873, or thereabouts, and reverted to color-grinding. As the firm of Édouard had just left the rue Clauzel he seized the opportunity of opening a shop in that very street, at no. 14.

The painters whom Papa Tanguy had known before the war, and who at once gave him their custom, were at that time in the thick of the fight. Their first group exhibition was to open on the boulevard des Capucines in the spring of 1874; and on that occasion an art critic, M. Louis Leroy, who saw himself as something of a humorist, gave them the name of “Impressionists” in the Charivari; and, as everyone knows, the name stuck. Papa Tanguy became the most fervent and loyal of the Impressionists’ allies: as to just how this came about, a word of explanation is needed.

Papa Tanguy was a man of golden good nature. Heavy and dullish at first glance, he was in reality the most delicate, pure-minded and upright of men. He was easy-going almost to a fault: never did a painter appeal to him in vain for credit—and often this credit remained open indefinitely. Papa Tanguy was, in his own way, a stoic: “Anyone who spends more than fifty centimes a day is a blackguard,” he liked to say, and the phrase fits the man in whom the kindness of an evangelist was allied to a natural sympathy for the revolutionary and the rebel.

For Tanguy had put himself on the side of the rebels ever since he had fought with the Fédérés and had a taste of prison life. The Impressionists, his friends, were making enemies on every hand; they must be fought for, tooth and nail. In his simple, tender-hearted way Tanguy thought that painting in a high key was Revolution itself. Anyone who fought for the victory of Impressionism and stood up for “the men of our School” (he liked to linger on the word) was fighting for a radiant, high-keyed to-morrow. And besides—Tanguy liked Impressionist painting for itself, and detested the “tobacco-juice” tonality which the middle classes of his time had taken to their hearts.

Unendingly generous by nature, Tanguy liked to assemble “his” painters around his frugal table. Paints and canvas he gave them gladly, and in return would take a picture or two: and what pictures, after all! No one else would look at them. Ribaldry and sarcasm met them on every side: the Pissarros, it seemed, were simply “palette-scrapings laid one after another on dirty canvas”; the Monets were painted “much as people touch up fountain-basins”; and as for the Cézannes, they were best not talked of: it would be many years before they were considered as anything but “painting as a drunken scavenger would see it,” as someone remarked.

To get back some of his expenses—and, of course, to help his artists—Tanguy tried to sell some of the canvases which cluttered his shop in ever greater numbers; but only rarely did he succeed. His pictures were pledges that none could redeem. His collection grew steadily bigger and bigger until the shop became a real little avant-garde museum of contemporary art and a meeting-place for all those who supported the Impressionists and liked to know what was new in the world of art. It was Cézanne’s work, above all, that they came to see. During the third Impressionist exhibition in 1877 Cézanne was attacked so violently, and suffered so deeply in consequence, that he decided that never again would he show his pictures in public. For nearly twenty years—until the famous exhibition organised by Vollard in 1895, which marked the beginnings of his great fame—he took no part in the activities of the art world. And during all that time, or at any rate until Tanguy died in 1894, the shop in the rue Clauzel (moved meanwhile from no. 14 to no. 9, by the way) was the only place in Paris where Cézannes could be seen.

“People went to Tanguy’s as if to a museum,” Émile Bernard tells us, “to see some studies by the unknown painter who lived at Aix … The unpretentious shop became, without knowing it, a Parisian legend. It was talked of in every studio. Members of the Institut, influential critics and writers who wanted to set everything to rights—all flocked there. Such was the unsettling effect of these canvases … the young people sensed that they were works of genius, their elders saw in them the madness of paradox, and the envious invoked the name of impotence.”

Gauguin, Sérusier, Anquetin, Signac and Maurice Denis were among those who came to Papa Tanguy’s shop to learn the lesson of Cézanne. (Later, as is well known, Cézanne, never the most conciliatory of men, was to accuse Gauguin of stealing from him his petite sensation.) But there were many other regular visitors, from Octave Mirbeau to Francis Jourdain and Léon-Paul Fargue, and from Toulouse-Lautrec to Dom Verkade and Jacques-Émile Blanche. It was also—and this is a remarkable fact—in Tanguy’s window that in 1892 Ambroise Vollard saw a Cézanne for the first time. Nor, of course, must we forget Van Gogh who in 1886 and 1887 was a daily visitor to the shop. He had a profound admiration for Cézanne, and one day, to his great joy, he lunched with the Master of Aix at Tanguy’s. The two artists set forth their ideas on painting: at the end of the meal Van Gogh gave Cézanne one of his pictures and Cézanne, abrupt as ever, looked hard at it and said: “No, but honestly—that’s a madman’s painting.”

Tanguy held Cézanne in the deepest and most respectful regard; no less strong, for that matter, were his feelings for Van Gogh. And when, on returning from Provence in 1890, Van Gogh shot himself dead at Auvers-sur-Oise, Tanguy wept for him as if he had been his own son.

Octave Mirbeau once described a visit to Tanguy, not long after Van Gogh’s death. “Ah, poor Vincent!” Tanguy lamented. “What a misfortune! Monsieur Mirbeau! What a misfortune! What a great misfortune! A genius like him! And such a delightful fellow! But wait—I’ll show you some more of his masterpieces!” Papa Tanguy went off to fetch more Van Goghs from the back of his shop and came back with four or five in his arms and two in each hand. As he laid them lovingly against the backs of his chairs, shifting and turning them to get the best light, he went on groaning: “Poor Vincent! Are those masterpieces?—Or are they not? And there are so many of them, so many … And they’re so beautiful that when I look at them it gives me a pain here, in my breast … Why should a man like that die? It’s not right, it really isn’t … Poor Vincent … I’ll bet you don’t know his Pot of Gladiolus? It’s one of the last things he did. Marv—ellous, simply marv—ellous! I must show it to you—when it came to flowers there was no one to touch him, no one. He had such a feeling for everything …” And Papa drew a circle in the air, as painters do, as if to single out some part of a painting for particular notice. “Just look at that sky! And those trees! Aren’t they just right? And the color! And the movement, I ask you!”

From time to time some lover of painting would buy a picture from the shop in the rue Clauzel. But Papa Tanguy’s business methods were not at all those of the dealer-speculator. For his Cézannes he had a fixed price: a hundred francs for a large canvas, forty for a small one. The story is told of an enthusiast who asked the price of a Van Gogh: “Just a moment!” said Tanguy, and went and pored over his account book. “That’ll be forty-eight francs,” he said, finally. “Forty-eight? That’s an odd figure—why not fifty? Or forty?” “Well,” said Tanguy, “forty-eight francs is exactly what poor Van Gogh owed me when he died.”

No, Papa Tanguy was not at all a speculator. “How he loved the pictures that he was obliged to sell!” Dom Verkade remembered. “Often he was in despair at seeing so fine a picture go out of his shop.” And there was one picture that he would never consider selling: his own portrait by Van Gogh. (It is now in the Musée Rodin in Paris.) Vollard tells us that when anyone wanted to make a bid for it Tanguy would coldly ask a flat five hundred francs. This, at that time, was enough to put off any potential buyer at the start.

These idiosyncratic methods meant that Papa Tanguy never became rich—was never, indeed, even moderately well off. He remained to the day of his death frugal in the extreme and lived as sparingly as he possibly could. Yet fate had another hammer-blow in store for him: when he died, in 1894, it was of cancer of the stomach, and he had had to suffer appallingly. He had been taken to hospital, but when he sensed that the end was near he asked to be brought back to the rue Clauzel. “I want to die in my own home, with my wife beside me and my pictures all around.” One evening he gave his wife his last instructions: “Life won’t be easy for you when I’m not there. Our pictures are all we’ve got. You mustn’t hesitate to sell them …” He was saying good-bye: the next morning, February 6, 1894, he died.

Madame Tanguy followed her husband’s advice and made what money she could from the canvases which were still in the shop. The sale was held at the Hôtel Drouot on June 2, 1894. It brought in 14,621 francs—not a bad total, in itself, especially for people like the Tanguys who had been poor all their lives. But in relation to the masterpieces which came under the hammer it was pitiably small. The only picture that got anything like a good price was a Monet, a view of Bordighera, which fetched 3,000 francs. Six Cézannes (five went to Vollard and one to Victor Chocquet) went for 902 francs in all: their individual prices varied between 92 and 215 francs, and the auctioneer actually complimented Vollard on his “recklessness” in bidding up to the latter figure! The six Gauguins didn’t average as much as 100 francs each. The Guillaumins went for between 80 and 160 apiece. Pissarro got up to more than 400, but a Seurat was knocked down for 50, and a Van Gogh for 30.

Papa Tanguy would have been deeply hurt, no doubt, to read of these prices. He had so longed to see his painters triumph—and that triumph, as it seemed, lay still in the distant future. But it was nearer than those concerned then dared to think. Only a year later Vollard was to hold his Cézanne exhibition, and in 1899, at the Chocquet sale, the painting by Cézanne which Chocquet had bought at the Tanguy sale (it was the Pont de Maincy) was to fetch 2,200 francs. Thereafter the prices rose continually—and not of Cézanne only, but of all Papa Tanguy’s painters.

He never got rich, Papa Tanguy, but he wrote a fine page in the history of French art.

RECOMMENDED READING

BIOGRAPHIES

Rather than provide pages and pages of annotated biographies, I have simply provided below the titles of books representing a wide range of people, and I hope that you will be interested to know more about one or two of them. This list, by no means comprehensive, includes Parisian or French men and women as well as expatriates of several nationalities for whom Paris was a part of their lives.

Albert Camus: A Biography, Herbert Lottman (Doubleday, 1979).
Colette
Creating Colette, Volume I: From Ingénue to Libertine, 1873–1913 (1998) and Volume II: From Baroness to Woman of Letters, 1912–1954 (1999), both by Claude Francis and Fernande Gontier and published by Steerforth.
Colette: Earthly Paradise: An Autobiography Drawn from Her Lifetime Writings (1966) and Belles Saisons: A Colette Scrapbook (1978), both by Robert Phelps and published by Farrar, Straus and Giroux.
Maurice Goudeket, Colette’s third husband, whom she unsuccessfully hid from the Nazis but successfully managed to free from deportation to Auschwitz, wrote two of his own books about life with Colette: The Delights of Growing Old: An Uncommon Biography (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1968) and Close to Colette: Intimate Portrait of a Woman of Genius (Farrar, Straus and Cudahy, 1957; Greenwood, 1973).
Everybody Was So Young: Gerald and Sara Murphy: A Lost Generation Love Story, Amanda Vaill (Houghton Mifflin, 1998) and Living Well Is the Best Revenge, Calvin Tomkins (Viking, 1971; Modern Library, 1998). Tender Is the Night is one of my favorite F. Scott Fitzgerald novels. When I first read it, I knew it was loosely based on the dazzling American expatriates Gerald and Sara Murphy, but I had no clue how much of it was fiction, and I have remained fascinated by the Murphys. With the publication of these two books, fact and fiction have been sorted out. Of the two, Calvin Tomkins, longtime art critic for the New Yorker, writes the smaller but not in any way lesser book. Living Well relates the Murphys’ story concisely and engagingly, accompanied by black-and-white reproductions of Gerald’s paintings and sixty-nine photographs from the Murphys’ family album. Amanda Vaill’s heftier Everybody Was So Young includes two inserts of black-and-white photos and some more recent material than the older Tomkins title, which focuses on the years before they returned to America in 1933. The Murphys were more legendary on the Côte d’Azur, where they lived in the Villa America on the Cap d’Antibes, but they held court in Paris just as eloquently.
The Italics Are Mine, Nina Berberova (Harcourt, Brace, 1969; Knopf, 1992, revised translation). Memoir of Russian writer and exile to Paris and the United States. Berberova, who passed away in 1993, is also the subject of “Going On,” an essay in Kennedy Fraser’s wonderful book Ornament and Silence: Essays on Women’s Lives from Edith Wharton to Germaine Greer (Knopf, 1996).
The Letters of Vincent van Gogh, edited by Mark Roskill (Atheneum, 1963).
Madame de Sévigné: A Life and Letters, Frances Mossiker (Knopf, 1983).
Madame de Staël: The First Modern Woman, Francine du Plessix Gray (Atlas, 2008).
Édouard Manet: Rebel in a Frock Coat, Beth Archer Brombert (Little, Brown, 1996).
M. F. K. Fisher and Me: A Memoir of Food and Friendship, Jeannette Ferrary (St. Martin’s, 1991; Thomas Dunne, 1998).
Matisse
Matisse and Picasso, Yve-Alain Bois (Flammarion, 1999).
Matisse and Picasso: A Friendship in Art, Françoise Gilot (Doubleday, 1990).
Matisse, Picasso, Miró: As I Knew Them, Rosamond Bernier (Knopf, 1991).
The Unknown Matisse: A Life of Henri Matisse: The Early Years, 1869–1908 (1998) and Matisse the Master: A Life of Henri Matisse: The Conquest of Color, 1909–1954 (2005), both by Hilary Spurling and published by Knopf.
M. F. K. Fisher, Julia Child, and Alice Waters: Celebrating the Pleasures of the Table, Joan Reardon (Harmony, 1994). Fisher, Child, and Waters were the pioneers in the American food world: due to Child’s PBS television series, the Food Network thrives today; due to Fisher’s passionate writing on gastronomy, cookbooks and food magazines grew to flourish; and Waters’s insistence upon fresh, seasonal food has prompted the growth of farmers’ markets and the local food movement.
Henry Miller: The Paris Years (Arcade, 1995), by the Hungarian photographer Brassaï, whose given name was Gyula Halász.
Misia: The Life of Misia Sert, Arthur Gold and Robert Fizdale (Knopf, 1980). Misia tells the wildly entertaining but true tale of the vivacious socialite Misia (née Marie Sophie Olga Zenaide Godebska), whose third husband, the Spanish painter José-Maria Sert, decorated such spaces as Rockefeller Center and the grand ballroom of the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel in New York.
Napoléon
The Horizon Book of the Age of Napoléon (American Heritage, 1963).
How Far from Austerlitz?: Napoléon 1805–1815, Alistair Horne (St. Martin’s, 1997). The years 1996 and 1997 marked the two hundredth anniversary of Napoléon Bonaparte’s first successes in the Italian Campaign against Austria, causing historian Horne to reflect upon his earlier book Napoléon, Master of Europe, 1805–1807 and ask, “Did he deserve it? How did his reputation look, nearly two centuries later?” and “What paths led him to his final, wretched exile?” Austerlitz has been referred to as “the first great battle of modern history,” Horne notes, and was Napoléon’s greatest victory; it was also the beginning of Napoléon’s downfall. Though How Far from Austerlitz? isn’t a biography of Napoléon, it provides a great starting point from which to view his life. (The title of this excellent book, by the way, is taken from Rudyard Kipling’s “A St. Helena Lullaby,” which stuck in my head long after I’d finished reading. Each line of the poem begins with “How far is St. Helena …,” referring to the island where Napoléon served out his exile. One stanza is: “How far is St. Helena from the field of Austerlitz? / You couldn’t hear me if I told—so loud the cannons roar.”)
Napoléon, Vincent Cronin (Collins, 1971).
Napoléon Bonaparte: A Life, Alan Schom (HarperCollins, 1997).
And though it’s historical fiction, a trilogy about the life of Joséphine Bonaparte is a unique take on the life of Napoléon’s wife: The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Joséphine B. (1999), Tales of Passion, Tales of Woe (1999), and The Last Great Dance on Earth (2000), all by Sandra Gulland and published by Scribner.
Picasso
A Life of Picasso: The Prodigy, 1881–1906; The Cubist Rebel: 1907–1916; and The Triumphant Years: 1917–1932, all by John Richardson and published by Knopf (2007).
Life with Picasso, Françoise Gilot and Carlton Lake (McGraw Hill, 1964). Gilot and Picasso never married but had two children together, Paloma and Claude; Gilot later married Jonas Salk in 1970. If you admire Gilot as much as I do, you may know she’s an accomplished artist in her own right: see Stone Echoes: Original Prints by Françoise Gilot, edited by Mel Yoakum (Philip and Muriel Berman Museum of Art at Ursinus College, 1995) for her printmaking oeuvre and Françoise Gilot: Monograph 1940–2000, Mel Yoakum and Dina Vierny (Acatos, 2001) for her oil paintings and works on paper.
Picasso: A Biography, Patrick O’Brian (Collins, 1976).
The Success and Failure of Picasso, John Berger (Penguin, 1965; Pantheon, 1989).
Renoir, My Father, Jean Renoir (Little, Brown, 1962; New York Review Books Classics, 2001).
Rodin: A Biography, Frederic Grunfeld (Henry Holt, 1987).
Rodin: The Shape of Genius, Ruth Butler (Yale University Press, 1993).
Saint-Exupéry: A Biography, Stacy Schiff (Knopf, 1994).
Speak, Memory: An Autobiography Revisited, Vladimir Nabokov (Harper & Bros., 1951; Vintage, 1989, revised edition).
Toulouse-Lautrec: A Life, Julia Frey (Viking, 1994).
Zola: A Life, Frederick Brown (Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 1995).

The history of Paris lies in her buildings and monuments. That of the Parisians in a host of little details.

—Cahier de Paris

THE ÎLE-DE-FRANCE
AND BEYOND:
EXCURSIONS FROM PARIS

To understand French landscape one must visit the Île-de-France, that region northwest of Paris where small villages nestle in gently rolling hills covered with fruit trees and flowers. The human scale of the land, the humbleness of the steeple of every village church evoke another age.
—ALEXANDER LIBERMAN, The Artist in His Studio

  PARIS IS INEXHAUSTIBLE, but visitors wishing to explore outside of the city—and I do encourage exploring the environs—will find there is practically unlimited choice in what to see and where to go. (Some journeys will even have you back in Paris in time for dinner.) Within easy striking distance from the city, in the Île-de-France (of which Paris is a part), the options are many: the Château de Versailles; the forêt de Fontainebleau; the village of Barbizon with its showcase of pre-Impressionist landscape artists; the beautiful gardens at Marly-le-Roi; the châteaux at Saint-Germain-en-Laye and Chantilly; the village of Auvers-sur-Oise, where Van Gogh spent his final years and also frequented by another nineteenth-century painter, Charles-François Daubigny; the fabulous Musée National de la Renaissance in the Château d’Ecouen; the exquisite château of Vaux-le-Vicomte, built in the seventeenth century by Nicolas Fouquet, Louis XIV’s finance minister (French history buffs may recall that the château was so stunning, and the housewarming ball Fouquet hosted so over-the-top, that the jealous Sun King imprisoned Fouquet and hired the very same team of architect Louis Le Vau, garden designer André Le Nôtre, and decorator Charles Le Brun to redesign Versailles). In nearby Normandy, there are the D-Day landing beaches and museums, and Claude Monet’s house and studio, where he painted his famous water lilies, in Giverny. The châteaux of the Loire Valley could easily occupy a full week’s time, the pretty coastline of Brittany beckons, and the distinctly northern city of Lille, in the Nord-Pas-de-Calais region, is a mere one-hour train ride from Paris.… As you can see, it’s difficult to decide!

INTERVIEW


David Downie and Alison Harris

For many visitors the decision for an excursion is easy: Burgundy—with its outstanding, world-famous wines, renowned culinary specialties, rivers, Romanesque architecture, and towns like Dijon, Beaune, and Vézelay—is tops on the side-trip list. As if additional reasons were needed, I like to refer to a special issue of Saveur (Issue 30), devoted to Burgundy. There the editors encourage a visit because “it hasn’t yet been discovered by the Eurochic or the mavens of the Mediterranean. Because its food is hearty, honest, and linked to the earth and its wines are delicate and elusive. Because it remains true, even today, to its ancient reputation for good living. Because it’s not Provence.”

By happy coincidence, the Little Bookroom published another volume in its Terroir series as I was completing this book. Food Wine: Burgundy by David Downie and Alison Harris (see this page) is an absolutely essential companion to this region—don’t even think about going to La Bourgogne without it. The book covers all the towns and villages of the region and includes superb recommendations—for places to eat, wineries to visit, charming places to stay, interesting shops and food artisans—as well as brief notes on a number of museums and historic sites and a very good overview of Burgundy wines. Downie also provides a list of market days in Burgundy, a food and wine glossary, and a few pages of practical information. Here’s one nugget worth repeating: “Nine in ten businesses are closed Sunday afternoons and a half day or full day once a week, usually Monday, sometimes Wednesday”; wineries are also often closed in July and/or August. As for restaurants, Downie focuses on those places whose chefs still work from scratch, “using fresh, locally sourced, high-quality ingredients, serving traditional or updated regional fare and cuisine bourgeoise that captures the spirit—if not always the letter—of terroir.” The word terroir, referring literally to the land, describes the proud sense of place expressed in locally grown and produced food, found in abundance in this region.

I have had the great pleasure of meeting Downie on several occasions, along with his kind and talented wife, the photographer Alison Harris. Most recently, I met them both for lunch at one of my Parisian favorites, Ma Bourgogne, on the Place des Vosges, just steps from their apartment.

Q: What are some general words of advice you would give to travelers going to Burgundy?
A: First of all, give yourself enough time—enough time to slow down and really enjoy discovering and exploring the small roads of Burgundy. At least ten days is great, which is enough time to get lost and find yourself again, and our book will take you to many different places, and certainly many off the beaten track. One of the things we enjoy doing most in Burgundy is hiking. There are a great number of marked trails, and when you hike, you see much more than from a car window: you’re actually in it—in the landscape, we mean.
Q: When did you first start exploring Burgundy?
A: We started going to Burgundy about twenty years ago thanks to some good friends we knew in Paris—they’re English and American—who were at that time going back and forth to Italy, and they found that this was becoming too time-consuming. They then bought a little place in southern Burgundy—from which their forays to Italy took less time—and when we visited them we discovered this uncluttered, wonderful, beautiful place in France … and we’ve continued to go back over the years. Though we’re referring specifically to southern Burgundy, make no mistake: all of Burgundy is great. There are parts of the region that are very well known, of course—everyone roars up and down the wine route, everybody wants to go to Beaune. These are wonderful, and you should see them, but hardly anyone gets off that wine road and goes out into the hinterland of southern Burgundy. The wines of southern Burgundy, by the way, are not as well known, and for a long time everyone thought they were all lousy wines owned by a big cooperative. Actually there are many, many really good wines that are being made here, at prices that aren’t crazy. So we got to know this part of Burgundy well and we began exploring the rest of the region.

  

  Photo Credit 49.1

Q: For visitors who are looking for pursuits other than wine, what else does Burgundy offer?
A: Vineyards cover about 2 percent of the land area in Burgundy, and there are about four thousand wineries in the region, which is about the size of Delaware, so it’s easy to see how everyone thinks Burgundy is nothing but wine country. But Burgundy is much more: it has one of the largest forests in France (and in fact forests occupy 34 percent of the land area); it’s the heartland of ancient Gaul; it’s home to dozens of Michelin-starred restaurants and hundreds of simple auberges devoted to terroir cuisine; and there are dozens and dozens of undiscovered rural areas with one-lane roads and about a thousand Romanesque churches, which were spun off from Cluny, which was the largest and most powerful medieval monastic complex outside Rome. Even people who don’t really care much for architecture and art love to see these Romanesque gems on the horizon. Burgundy is almost entirely rural—60 percent of the land area is devoted to farmland—so for this reason alone it is worth visiting and is the perfect side trip from Paris. All you have to do is get off that main road and go up into the hills and you’ll find all this wonderful stuff.
Q: Do visitors need appointments in advance to visit wineries?
A: Yes, usually in France—wherever you are—it’s better to make an appointment if you can.
Q: What specifically about your Burgundy Terroir guide do you feel is especially useful for visitors?
A: I’ve worked on so many guidebooks over the years and I know their flaws. Sometimes the writer doesn’t have time, or he or she really isn’t suited to the assignment, or the editor wants the writer to create the perfect guide but is prevented from giving the writer the proper resources. So as I started working on this Burgundy guide I decided I was going to make the perfect guidebook for my friends. This is the book I would want them to have because they would get to a town and they would have a little sense of its history, they would have a sense of what its unique foods and wines are, they would know of some worthwhile sites to see. Yes, the Burgundy guide is obviously about discovering famous wineries, famous chefs, and famous sites, but it’s also about all these hidden places and wonderful little pockets of charm and beauty. All the Terroir guides are insider’s guides, for curious, intelligent people, but we don’t want that to sound snobby. We can’t stand the tone of some guidebooks that assume because the reader is American and perhaps not well traveled, the text is dumbed down. We assume that even though readers may not yet be well traveled, they picked up our book because they’re interested to learn, and we respect that. The Terroir guides are not about the mindless pursuit of hedonism. They’re about making it possible for someone who loves culture, great food, and great wine to go out and find the authentic food artisans and winemakers. And they’re about preserving traditions that should be preserved. The guides are also not just for tourists—they’re also for people who already know the area. We noticed with our Rome guide that a lot of copies were purchased by people who live there.

  

  Photo Credit 49.2

Q: Can you share just a few of your favorite aspects of Burgundy?
A: An afternoon visit to Cluny, which once housed ten thousand monks, and seeing where the abbey once stood. All you see now is the transept and a reconstruction, but it’s well worth it. An autumnal walk in the woods, or perhaps a springtime walk, when you look out over a countryside which is made up of hedgerows and flowering fruit trees and wildflowers and a Romanesque steeple in the distance. A visit to Bibracte, the lost city of the ancient Gauls. There’s a museum there, not a very great one but still with some interesting stuff. Walk up to the top of the hill where Caesar dictated the conquest of Gaul and read Julius Caesar’s classic The Conquest of Gaul, which, believe it or not, is a real page-turner. It describes the only military campaign of the ancient world for which we have a record. Truly, it’s incredible to read this when you’re in ancient Gaul, in the heart of Burgundy.
And after you’ve looked at all the Charolais cattle everywhere—cattle actually outnumber humans in Burgundy—go and eat a really good dry-aged Charolais steak in a traditional restaurant. You’ll find many listed in our book.

TWO PERFECT DAYS IN BURGUNDY

Billing itself as the “world’s premier active travel company,” Butterfield & Robinson (butterfield.com) has had a long-standing relationship with Burgundy. B&R offers trips to sixty destinations worldwide, with four different journeys that include Burgundy: biking, self-guided biking, walking, and a wine “grand journey” that also includes Bordeaux and the Piemonte region of Italy. Though its most popular walking trip in 2010 was along the Amalfi Coast, its most popular biking trip was to Burgundy. (Additionally, B&R has at least nine other trip options in other parts of France.)

Founded in 1966, Butterfield & Robinson refers to George Butterfield, his high school roommate Sidney Robinson, and Sidney’s sister Martha Robinson, who together coordinated a trip to Europe for forty-three students. (Martha later married George, thus becoming the only true Butterfield & Robinson.) Early B&R trips were only for students, who biked from youth hostel to youth hostel. But at some point along the way the trips were crafted to be more distinctive and more comfortable, and B&R is now known to have pioneered the concept of luxury biking tours in Europe. The three founders, who use the motto “Slow Down to See the World,” also have a reputation for providing once-in-a-lifetime experiences and unique access to events, people, and places that are very difficult or impossible for travelers to arrange on their own. All three are still involved with the operation of the company, and in 2009 they welcomed Erik Blachford, former CEO of Expedia and onetime B&R guide, as a new partner.

In an interview with the Globe and Mail, George was asked to give some advice specific to running a high-end business. “It’s pretty simple,” he said. “Just get it right. People don’t want to be treated like they’re just one of thousands and thousands. You want everything to be special. And an awful lot of group travel is pretty routine, pretty predictable.” His remarks really appealed to me, so I sent him a query asking if he would share some of his favorite things about Burgundy. Assuming he wouldn’t have time to share more than a few sentences, I was thrilled to receive his reply, “Two Perfect Days in Beaune,” reprinted here.

In 1986 we moved the B&R office from Paris to Beaune. Centrally located, with arguably the world’s best wine and biking, our offices in Beaune are B&R’s European headquarters and home to twelve hundred bicycles.
Start your first day with a buttery croissant from Pâtisserie Bouché before a morning visit to the Hospices Civils de Beaune. Head over to the patio at Le Conty for a light lunch. After lunch, drive to Gevrey-Chambertin along the Route des Grands Crus, passing through some of the most famous grands crus of the Côte-de-Nuits. Or bike up into the Côte-de-Beaune via Aloxe-Corton and Pernand-Vergelesses. Dinner tonight could be on the terrace of the lovely Le Jardin des Remparts, or for a more casual option, Les Caves Madeleine, a charming wine store and restaurant. For an evening nightcap try Le Bout du Monde.
If you are in Beaune on a Saturday, head over early to Le Grand Café on Place Carnot and watch the farmers set up for the spectacular morning market. Pick up some local Epoisses, a baguette, and a bottle of wine for later. Stroll around the cobblestone streets and the rampart walls of Beaune. In the afternoon you can head south by car or by bike to Meursault through the villages of Chassagne-Montrachet and Puligny-Montrachet. If you haven’t had lunch already, you could stop at a great local restaurant, Le Montrachet, in Puligny-Montrachet, or if it is later in the day, just enjoy a glass of wine at the wine bar. Tonight a great bistro meal is right downstairs at the hotel restaurant, Le Bistro de l’Hôtel.

Dining Notes and Contact Information

Pâtisserie Bouché (1 place Monge / +33 03 80 22 10 35). This is the best shop in town for cakes, pastries, and chocolate. Madame Bouché—the very impressive-looking woman behind the counter—makes fabulous-quality goods and prices them as generously as the portions of butter on her croissants. (The top-notch Hôtel Le Cep gets its breakfast croissants from her, and they really are the best!) Some of her chocolate recipes are patented, and she ships them to shops in Paris as well as doing a hopping business here in Beaune. You’ll find her at the opposite end of the pedestrian zone, in Place Monge.

Le Conty (5 rue Ziem / +33 03 80 22 63 94 / leconty.fr). A nice little restaurant with good food and friendly, quality service. In case of fair weather, the terrace is one of the best in town. Their menus are always a good choice and changed seasonally. Laurent Parra, a young chef from a local gourmet family, cooks some excellent local goodies! Closed Sundays and Mondays.

Le Jardin des Remparts (10 rue de l’Hôtel-Dieu / +33 03 80 24 79 41 / le-jardin-des-remparts.com). This restaurant has a fantastic terrace, some great innovative food, and a charming atmosphere. The service is not a speedy American-style affair; this is meant to be a longer meal that you linger over with great company. Closed on Sundays and Mondays.

Les Caves Madeleine (8 rue du Faubourg-Madeleine / +33 03 80 22 93 30). Friendly, intimate, and casual atmosphere. Featuring long tables with shared seating, this is a great spot for regional specialties and has both good, inexpensive set menus and a wide choice of à la carte options. It also boasts an excellent selection of wines sold in cooperation with the winemakers, and as such are not marked up like in other restaurants—some excellent deals are to be had here! Closed Sundays, Thursdays, and Friday lunch.

Le Bout du Monde (7 rue du Faubourg-Madeleine / +33 03 80 24 04 52 / leboutdumonde.net). The team welcomes you into the warm lounge bar for a simple beer or a more exotic drink. Nice, quiet terrace in spring and summer. Right across from Les Caves Madeleine.

Le Grand Café (36 place Carnot / +33 03 80 22 23 00). If you head here at the end of the day for a pastis, kir, or cold beer, you may very likely be sharing the terrace with some of our B&R Beaune staff who’ve just finished their day at the office! This is the grand classic of French cafés, and not only do they have one of the best people-watching terraces in town, but the service is impeccable as well. You can also eat lightly here; they have a small menu of sandwiches and salads.

Le Bistro de l’Hôtel (5 rue Samuel Legay / +33 03 80 25 94 14 / lhoteldebeaune.com). Le Bistro concentrates on serving simple food, using only the freshest high-quality produce from local suppliers, including fish, seafood, beef, poulet de Bresse, and Charolais veal. Truffles and wild mushrooms are featured cuisine du marché! This is simply one of the best tables in Beaune, with an amazing wine list. Open every day for lunch and dinner except for Sunday lunch.

Other Options and Accommodations

Bistrot Bourguignon (8 rue Monge / +33 03 80 22 23 24 / restaurant-lebistrotbourguignon.com). A relaxed bistro atmosphere, great for those who need a quick, simple meal. Wonderful wines by the glass with a few tables out front. On the weekends, they often have live jazz music playing—you can even just go by for a glass of wine to take in the music! Closed Mondays.

Le Gourmandin (8 place Carnot / +33 03 80 24 07 88 / hotellegourmandin.com). This is an excellent bistro that has a real Parisian atmosphere. Excellent boeuf bourguignon as well as creative and light dishes and lots of unknown little wines available by the glass. They do have some weird things on the wine list that seem overpriced, but there are also some good finds. The maître d’ can always suggest something delicious and not too pricey to drink, but the service can be at French speed. Open every day.

La Part des Anges (24 rue d’Alsace / +33 03 80 22 07 68). This wine bar offers a cozy ambience and great food. Run by young guys, La Part has a large selection of local dishes and some amazing wines on their wine list that can be enjoyed by the glass. Closed Sundays and Mondays.

L’Hôtel de Beaune (5 rue Samuel Legay / +33 03 80 25 94 14 / lhoteldebeaune.com). This mansion is the gem of Beaune. With only seven rooms, it oozes grace and charm, and is now considered the top property in the town. The spacious rooms are furnished with fine linens, mahogany furniture, and interesting artwork. Since the hotel is located right in the center of Beaune, the town awaits just outside your doorstep.

Bastion Ste. Anne (bastionsteanne.com). For a longer stay, you may want to rent our home in Beaune, Bastion Ste. Anne. Forming part of the centuries-old walls of the town of Beaune, this combination of secret garden and lovely cottage is a totally unique experience.

Other Burgundy Resources

“In Burgundy, Picking Up the Pace,” Alexander Lobrano (Gourmet, September 2006). Inspired by Samuel Chamberlain’s “Bur- gundy at a Snail’s Pace,” which appeared in the first issue of Gourmet, January 1941.
“Burgundy I: Parsleyed Ham, Two Burgundian Cheeses, and Spice Bread,” Edward Behr (Art of Eating, Number 59, 2001).
“Burgundy II: Chablis,” Edward Behr (Art of Eating, Number 81, 2009).
“Beaujolais: The Goal of a Gulpable Wine,” Edward Behr (Art of Eating, Number 67, 2004).
Puligny-Montrachet: Journal of a Village in Burgundy, Simon Loftus (Knopf, 1993). This fascinating book is de rigueur reading for anyone with an interest in wine, Burgundy wine in particular. Perhaps the most interesting detail about it is the front endpapers, a color reproduction of Le Terrier de la Seigneurie de Puligny et Mypon, preserved in the mairie (town hall) in Puligny “for the delight of anyone with an inquisitive nose.” This remarkable land register, compiled between 1741 and 1747 in three enormous leather-bound volumes, is “one of the earliest, most detailed and most complete surveys of any of the classic vineyard regions of France.” It indicates the name of every landholder, every tree, and every house in the village, the boundaries of each field and the subdivisions of every vineyard. What the wine enthusiast discovers, with Loftus’s curiosity and expertise, is that a mere seven and a half acres of terre became the “most precious agricultural land on earth, producing the grandest of all white wines: Puligny-Montrachet.” Three appendices—appellations, vintages, and tastings—complete this eye-opening and memorable work.

An Hour from Paris
Several years ago, writer Annabel Simms found herself in the middle of the woods, as completely lost as if she were in Africa instead of nineteen kilometers from Paris. There were three paths in front of her with no indication of where any of them led, so on impulse she chose the one on the left. She soon came upon some houses and knocked on the door of the nearest one. After following the owner’s directions, five minutes later she was in front of a magnificent sixteenth-century château. It turned out to be the Musée National de la Renaissance in Ecouen, twenty-three minutes from Paris by train (and it happens to be one of my favorite museums in northern France). It was this experience that alerted Simms to how accessible the countryside around Paris really is, and how few foreigners—and the French themselves—are aware of this. (Those paths, by the way, are now signposted.)
More excursions (with much note taking) into the old pays de France—the fertile plain surrounded by rivers to the north of Paris—led Simms to conclude that the Île-de-France has escaped the effects of mass tourism and is one of the least visited parts of France. She also realized she had the makings of a unique book geared entirely to foreign visitors arriving by train. These visitors, she envisioned, would be “curious about everything, rather than with a specialist interest in walking, architecture, gastronomy, or whatever,” and they would be equally as interested in the present as in the past. Her readers would appreciate cafés and humble restaurants, and above all would be those “who avoided crowds and prepackaged experience wherever possible and were happiest when exploring off the beaten track.” And thus An Hour from Paris (Pallas Athene, 2008, revised edition) was born.
Simms has really done her homework, and not for nothing has her book been referred to as a “groundbreaking work” (Sunday Times) and “a kind of Île-de-France profonde” (Independent). I urge anyone with even the vaguest thoughts of setting out for the Île-de-France to go with this book in hand—it’s a slender paperback. Simms has thoughtfully provided updates on her Web site (anhourfromparis.com).

AUVERS-SUR-OISE

Only twenty-two miles north of Paris and easily reached by train from the Gare Saint-Lazare, Auvers-sur-Oise is a small village known not only as where Vincent van Gogh spent the last weeks of his life (having arrived by train, in 1890), but also as the home, from 1862 to 1878, of Charles-François Daubigny, a painter considered a forerunner of Impressionism. Other Impressionists and landscape artists were drawn to Auvers as well, including Paul Cézanne, Camille Pissarro, and Jean-Baptiste-Camille Corot.

At the village’s Auberge Ravoux, Van Gogh rented room number 5, with full board, for three and a half francs per day. Van Gogh painted more than seventy masterpieces in Auvers in fewer than eight weeks, but his room there was his last: he shot himself in a nearby field and died at the auberge shortly thereafter. According to Alexandra Leaf and Fred Leeman, authors of Van Gogh’s Table at the Auberge Ravoux (Artisan, 2001)—a book you must read if you go to Auvers—Van Gogh lived in at least thirty-eight places in four countries, all in his life of thirty-seven years. Due to French superstitions about suicide, it’s unlikely that the room was ever rented again after his death. Both Van Gogh’s room and the Auberge Ravoux were declared historical landmarks.

In 1926 the auberge was officially renamed Maison de Van Gogh, and in 1952 Roger and Micheline Tagliana bought it and lovingly revitalized it. Four years later, when Vincente Minnelli was filming Lust for Life with Kirk Douglas as Van Gogh, he shot on location at the auberge, finally correcting the misconception that Van Gogh had died in Provence. In 1985, Belgian businessman Dominique-Charles Janssens was hit by a drunk driver a few yards from the former Auberge Ravoux. While he was convalescing, he read Van Gogh’s letters and became quite passionate about the artist’s work and life. He also learned at this time that the auberge was for sale, and he decided to buy it. He writes in his foreword to Van Gogh’s Table that he wanted to create a spiritual refuge where people could connect with Van Gogh’s art and feelings, a place where they could really step back in time: “There, they would find Van Gogh’s room, a small intimate space, empty except for memories. Visitors could furnish it with their own feelings or experiences. No mass tourism would trample through the tranquility of the place. It would be preserved as a refuge of silence from the frenzy of the external world.” The Maison de Van Gogh (maisondevangogh.fr) also has a worthy restaurant; note that neither the restaurant nor the museum is open year-round.

Other attractions in Auvers-sur-Oise include the home of Dr. Gachet, the cemetery where Van Gogh and his brother Theo are buried, the Romanesque Gothic church immortalized in Van Gogh’s Church at Auvers-sur-Oise, the Château d’Auvers-sur-Oise (also known as Château de Léry), and the Musée Daubigny.

In addition to works by Charles-François Daubigny, the Musée Daubigny (musee-daubigny.com) features the works of other nineteenth- and twentieth-century artists, including some of Daubigny’s own students (among them Hippolyte-Camille Delpy and Alexandre-René Véron), plus Jean-François Millet, Dr. Gachet, and Cézanne. I’ve been a fan of Daubigny’s works since I first discovered them as a student in Paris. Daubigny had a boat he often used as a kind of floating studio, from which he painted landscapes outdoors, without reworking them later. (Among his works in the Musée d’Orsay is Sunset Over the Oise.) A few other works I particularly like in the Musée Daubigny are Le Port de Rotterdam by Norbert Goeneutte, Bateaux au coucher du soleil by Maxime Maufra, and Le Travail champêtre by Émile Boulard, all terrific Impressionist works by painters with whom I had been unfamiliar.

A good article to read before heading to Auvers is “Impressionist Visions near Paris” by Dana Micucci (New York Times, July 7, 2002). Micucci writes “I left Auvers-sur-Oise feeling that I had discovered the quintessential French village, overflowing with authentic rural charm and richly layered with culture and history.”

CHARTRES

A visit to the town and cathedral of Chartres is an easy half- or full-day trip from Paris. “There is nothing comparable to the brilliance of Chartres’ windows—not even the mosaics of Byzantium,” notes Joseph Barry in The People of Paris. “Even without knowing the difference between Gothic architecture and the more earth-bound Romanesque from which it sprang, one can still sense the spiritual life of its vaults.” Barry, “an architectural traveler with a pair of powerful field glasses rather than a pilgrim with a prayer book,” recommends that travelers visit at twilight, when “all is calm and timeless. The gray of the sky merges with the warm gray of the stones.… Softly, dramatically, the night-lighting of the great cathedral commences.”

I’ve been to Chartres only once, and unfortunately it wasn’t at twilight; rather, it was on a gray, overcast day, but what was remarkable to me was that the famous blue in the stained-glass windows was still really blue, a shade completely unlike any other, as if light were shining through it. Robert Payne, in The Splendor of France, comments that throughout French history there has been an intense devotion to light, which for the French was “the purest joy, and they celebrated their joy in stained-glass windows, in brilliantly colored books and dresses, in Impressionist painting, in a continuing debate on the nature of light, in endless speculations on its strange and exhilarating behavior, as though it were a living thing. Because the light was feminine, and desired to please and to be seen, they opened up the walls of their cathedrals to let it in, and because the light was self-conscious and determined to be shown in its utmost splendor, they filled the windows with those thousands of pieces of colored glass, as thin as wafers, which are the great glory of medieval France.”

Chartres definitely vaut le détour, and three worthy resources are:

“Seeing the Light in Chartres,” Joan Gould (New York Times, December 18, 1988).
Chartres Cathedral, Malcolm Miller with color photographs by Sonia Halliday and Laura Lushington (Riverside, 1997). Miller has been leading tours to the cathedral for many decades almost every day without exception. Inquire at the office de tourisme (Place de la Cathédrale) or contact him directly ([email protected] / +33 02 37 28 15 58).
Universe of Stone, Philip Ball (Harper, 2008). In this thorough book, Ball admits that it’s somewhat foolhardy to talk about “why” Chartres Cathedral was built, but that is what he attempts to do. Only by confronting that question, he believes, can we fully experience all this cathedral has to offer. “There seems to be little point,” he notes, “in knowing that you are standing in the south transept or looking at St. Lubin in the stained glass or gazing at a vault boss a hundred feet above your head unless you have some conception of what was in the minds of the people who created all of this.” (And a “boss,” by the way, is an architectural term that refers to a generally round, carved element located at the central crossing point of the ribs in Gothic vaults.)
Fontainebleau Postcard
My friend Ruth Homberg recently moved to Fontainebleau with her husband, Peter, so I asked her for some suggestions for a memorable Fontainebleau journey. Her detailed notes follow:
Located forty minutes outside of Paris by train, the ville of Fontainebleau is nestled in the midst of a forest three times the size of Manhattan. The two main draws of the small French city are the campus of INSEAD, one of the world’s leading business schools, and the Château de Fontainebleau, which has housed countless notables, including Napoléon and Marie Antoinette. The château sprawls across several acres of land and is adjoined by a park with carefully landscaped ponds and canals, which are also home to massive carp. On sunny days you can feed the ducks alongside French children and families enjoying pique-niques.
The best days of the week to make the journey to Fontainebleau are Tuesdays, Fridays, and Sundays, when the heart of the town is converted into a lively farmers’ market. Be on the lookout for souvenirs, including hand-woven baskets, jewelry, quilts, and clothing, as well as country-fresh produce and fruit, cheeses, and charcuterie. Sundays promise the most vibrant market, but be warned: after noon the entire town shuts down until Tuesday. (One of our favorite days here has been a Sunday morning at the market gathering food for a picnic in the park behind the château).
For an authentic and moderately priced French lunch or dinner, try Bistrot 9 (9 rue Montebello / +33 01 64 22 87 84 / lebistrot9.com) for a salad with chèvre chaud, or the delicious sole meunière. For another bistro option, also try Bouchon de Bleau (32 rue de France / +33 01 64 22 30 99). (Note that both are often fully booked.) My other favorite in-town restaurant is Ty-Koz, a crêperie on a cobbled side street (18 rue de la Cloche / +33 01 64 22 00 55). With a glass of French wine or a pitcher of traditional cider from Bretagne, any dish tastes delicious.
If you’re traveling by car, don’t fail to make your way to the neighboring towns of Barbizon and Moret-sur-Loing. Both are sleepy, picturesque villages that boast long histories. The old city of Moret-sur-Loing is bookended by two arches that lead to a bridge over the river Loing. Between these arches lies the medieval town, parts of which are in their original state. It’s fun to grab an ice cream cone on a cobbled side street and stroll through the ancient streets or down to the beautiful river. On a hot day, you may see campers kayaking over the small locks or children wading in the shallow parts of the river.
Barbizon once housed many painters and writers. As it borders the paths of the Fontainebleau forest, it’s easy to see what brought them here. With only one main street lined with a few shops and hotels, it has a history steeped in the arts. Beginning in the mid-1800s, it became a popular vacation spot for Parisians. In addition to tourists, the town attracted quite a few painters, who would later be dubbed the Barbizon School. Among others, this group included Théodore Rousseau, Jean-François Millet, Narcisse-Virgile Diaz, and Charles-François Daubigny, and much of their work is on display at Musée de l’École de Barbizon at the Auberge Ganne. Later, the town also lured the younger Impressionist painters like Monet and Renoir. Writers were drawn to the area as well, and well-known French poets, like Paul Verlaine, Baudelaire, and Guillaume Apollinaire all made the trek to the town and spent time writing there. At the end of the main strip in Barbizon are trails that run throughout the Forêt de Fontaine-bleau, which is full of hiking paths and huge boulders that many use for rock climbing. Be sure to get a map, and beware of the wild boars that are in abundance!
P.S. Peter and I recently checked out the town of Troyes, which is about an hour from Fontainebleau. It’s also really cool. Have you been?
    Note: I haven’t yet been to Troyes, but an interesting article to read about its culinary specialty, andouillette sausage, is “The Andouillete of Troyes” by Edward Behr (Art of Eating, Number 78, 2008).

LOIRE VALLEY

In addition to your guidebook of choice (my own favorites include Knopf Guides: The Loire Valley and Michelin: Châteaux of the Loire), and perhaps an illustrated book, such as The Châteaux of the Loire by Pierre Miquel and with photographs by Jean-Baptiste Leroux (Penguin Studio, 1999), the very best, hands-down-number-one resource you need is A Wine and Food Guide to the Loire by Jacqueline Friedrich (Henry Holt, 1996). Honored with Julia Child and James Beard awards, as well as being named Veuve-Clicquot Wine Book of the Year, you need this encyclopedic book if you’re going anywhere at all in the Loire Valley. American journalist and former lawyer Friedrich moved to France in 1989 and stayed, and she now divides her time between Paris and a small village in the Loire near Chinon. She spent two years researching this book, a practical, interesting, and mouthwatering guide, and she’s working on the second edition (to be published by University of California Press). But don’t think this first edition won’t be helpful: I can attest to its usefulness even now, more than a decade later. The first part of the book is about the river, wine history, climate, soil, and grapes, followed by a section focusing on food and a wine route that takes travelers through the Nantais, Anjou and Saumur, Touraine, Sancerrois, and Auvergne. At the end of the book are four useful appendices: listings of bonnes adresses and recommended itineraries, a glossary, wine-serving tips, and conversion charts.

I’m a huge fan of Friedrich’s writing—I have all of the “Choice Tables” articles she’s contributed to the travel section of the New York Times, and her Wines of France book is also indispensable. And I’m not alone in praising her: noted wine authority Jancis Robinson endorsed Friedrich’s Loire book by saying, “I’ve waited twenty years for this book. I am truly impressed by it and so grateful for its existence. I didn’t know who would find the energy to write it, but for decades we will be grateful that it was someone of Jacqueline Friedrich’s talent and passion.” I also love that Friedrich’s favorite word is “delicious.” Readers may keep up with her at Jacquelinefriedrich.com.

COMPIÈGNE

I have long been fascinated by the signing of the armistice that ended World War I, which took place at a spot in the Forest of Compiègne, about seventy-five kilometers from Paris in the Picardy region. At five thirty a.m. on November 11, 1918, a German delegation signed the truce with the Allies. The two sides met in a clearing in the forest on railroad tracks: in one railcar was the German delegation, including imperial secretary of state Matthias Erzberger, and in the other were Allied commander in chief General Ferdinand Foch and First Sea Lord Admiral Sir Rosslyn Wemyss, the leading British delegate on the Allied side. The armistice terms had already been prepared by the British and French governments and were not open to further discussion. The thirty-four clauses were read aloud to the Germans, and “hearing these conditions, one of the Germans wept openly,” notes the Australian Department of Veterans’ Affairs World War I memorial Web site (ww1westernfront.gov.au). All the Germans reportedly had tears in their eyes, and according to A Stillness Heard Round the World: The End of the Great War, Erzberger, whose son had recently died in a military hospital, said, “The German people, which held off a world of enemies for fifty months, will preserve their liberty and their unity despite every kind of violence. A nation of 70 millions of peoples suffers, but it does not die.” Foch, whose son had been killed in action in 1914, ended the event by saying, “Eh bien, messieurs, c’est fini, allez” (Very well, gentlemen, it’s over, go), and he ordered a cease-fire for eleven a.m. that morning. The German delegates signed the armistice after it was referred to Berlin, and Kaiser Wilhelm II abdicated the throne and went into exile in Holland.

The Glade of the Armistice (Clairière de l’Armistice) was established shortly after, and it “remains a shrine to those who perished in World War I,” as Catharine Reynolds puts it in her Gourmet article “A Weekend Interlude: Imperial Pleasures North of Paris” (November 1996). A stone plaque there bears the inscription, loosely translated into English, “Here, on 11 November 1918, the criminal pride of the German Empire was brought low, vanquished by the free peoples it sought to enslave.” The Paris newspaper Le Matin raised funds to erect a memorial to the liberators of Alsace and Lorraine, and the Glade was officially dedicated on Armistice Day 1922. Ferdinard Foch’s railroad car—Wagon-Lits car #2419D—was once again a dining car after the war, and it was brought back to the Glade on Armistice Day 1927. A statue of Foch was also installed in the Glade in 1937, after his death.

On June 21, 1940, six weeks after Germany began its renewed attack on France, the Germans moved Foch’s railroad car back onto the track where it had stood in 1918. Hitler had chosen this place for France’s de facto surrender “to efface once and for all by an act of reparative justice a memory which was resented by the German people as the greatest shame of all time,” according to William Shirer in The Collapse of the Third Republic. After the agreement was signed, the stone plaque was broken up and sent back to Germany, as well as the Alsace-Lorraine memorial. Foch’s railroad car was sent to Berlin, where it was placed on display until 1943. Curiously, the statue of Foch was not taken down or defaced. It’s not likely that this was an act of soldierly courtesy, but rather, as the World War I memorial Web site explains, “another bit of petty revenge on the part of the Führer; the victor of 1918 left in solitude to contemplate the annihilation of his work.”

Compiègne was liberated in 1944, and German POWs restored the Glade on September 1. After the aerial bombardment of Berlin in 1943, the Nazis had moved Foch’s railroad car to the Thuringia Forest for safekeeping. But in April 1945, with the Allies moving in, the Nazis set fire to the car. After the war was over, the pieces of the stone plaque and the Alsace-Lorraine monument were found in Berlin and returned to the Glade. Another railroad car, #2439D, crafted in 1913 like the original, was brought to the Glade; because the original furnishings and documents from Foch’s car had been saved before war broke out, the full restoration of the Glade’s pre-1940 appearance was possible.

In addition to the Glade and the Musée de l’Armistice, Compiègne offers other diversions for visitors, including the forest itself with hiking trails and bike paths. The Château de Compiègne, designed for Louis XV but more noted for the reign of Napoléon III and Empress Eugénie, is also worth a trip; in addition to the historic apartments there, the château also houses the Museum of the Second Empire and the Museum of the Automobile and Tourism. (Reservations are required; see the Web site, musee-chateau-compiegne.fr, for more information. The American Friends of the Château de Compiègne, at afcdc.org, is also dedicated to increasing awareness of the château’s history). Also check out the sixteenth-century High Gothic–style hôtel de ville, which has one of the oldest city clocks in France, featuring a bancloque in the belfry with three Picantins—wooden figures in sixteenth-century attire representing the three enemies of France at that time: Flandrin the Fleming, Langlois the Englishman, and Lansquenet the German—that strike bells with their mallets every quarter hour. The regional cuisine is noted for its chocolate and gâteau de Compiègne, also known as Napoléon’s dessert, made with cherries. The Compiègne town Web site (mairie-compiegne.fr) is in French only but still useful.

CHAMPAGNE

  

  

A great book to read that is not only about the bubbly drink but also about the Champagne region is The Widow Clicquot: The Story of a Champagne Empire and the Woman Who Ruled It by Tilar Mazzeo (Harper Perennial, 2008). I had no idea how fascinating the world of Champagne was until I read this book. Though I adore Champagne—if I were asked that desert island question, bien sûr Champagne would be the one drink I would request—and I really like Veuve Clicquot, I had no idea what a remarkable woman la veuve (the widow) Barbe-Nicole Clicquot Ponsardin was. Mazzeo does an excellent job of piecing together Barbe-Nicole’s life, even with relatively few resources available (the Veuve Clicquot archives hold many detailed account books but no personal documents). Interestingly, as Mazzeo points out, in the nineteenth century, when the story of Champagne begins, the history books rarely included the lives of entrepreneurs or commercial innovators, especially if they happened to be female. It’s not difficult to find letters and diaries of royalty or notable statesmen, “but few librarians thought to collect personal records of businesspeople, even businesspeople who did exceptional things.” This is still true today, but it was particularly true in the nineteenth century for a woman, unless she was either royalty or the sister, wife, or mother of a notable man. Nicole-Barbe wasn’t any of these, but she was formidable, independent, and determined. As Mazzeo writes, “Her success was not in bucking the system, but neither did she slavishly follow convention.… She had a talent for seeing the opportunities that existed in moments of cultural and economic instability.” Her triumphs and failures make for interesting reading, and a few myths are busted along the way: Dom Pérignon did not discover sparkling wine, for instance, and some wine historians now claim that a Champagne-like beverage was first invented in Great Britain, where there had been a small market for sparkling wine by the 1660s.

I like that Mazzeo gives us good descriptions of the city at the center of the Champagne region, Reims (pronounced as “Rans,” she tells us) both at the time of the ancien régime and today. She also reminds us that, like the other great widow of her day, Great Britain’s Queen Victoria, the widow Clicquot helped to define a century. “For decade after decade, her name was heard on the lips of soldiers, princes, and poets as far away as Russia. Before long, tourists came looking for a glimpse of the woman whom the writer Prosper Mérimée once called the uncrowned queen of Reims.” She was known locally simply as la grande dame—the great lady—and rare Veuve Clicquot vintages are still named La Grande Dame today. Nicole-Barbe is revealed in these pages as a woman of contradictions: a generous philanthropist but also a hard-hearted business owner, “a small, gruff, and decidedly plain woman with a sharp tongue who sold the world an exquisitely beautiful wine and an ethereal fantasy.”

Mireille on Champagne
“With the recent addition of a Paris–Reims TGV, one can easily visit the Champagne region for a day, but ideally an overnight or even two to three days make a winning difference. Especially if staying at Les Crayères (64 boulevard Henry-Vasnier / lescrayeres.com), a top hotel and restaurant located in a huge park in Reims with three restaurants, from haute gastronomy to more casual to a super brasserie. Visiting the city and region in May or June or early fall is ideal. The weather and vineyards are superb. Driving across the quaint, grape-growing hillside villages with their manicured vineyards, and stopping for dinner at my favorite country restaurant, Le Grand Cerf in Montchenot (50 Route Nationale 51 / le-grand-cerf.fr), is my idea of a weekend in the country. Experiencing a few Champagne houses is, of course, a must to discover the complexities around each bubbly: my favorite cellars belong to Ruinart (small), Taittinger or Pommery (medium), and Veuve Clicquot (larger but discreet). One should not neglect the center of Reims for its famous cathedral, whether you go for the rosace (rose window), the stained-glass windows by Chagall, the viticultural panels, or the grisailles (monochrome paintings in shades of gray typically painted on the outside panels of altarpieces). And don’t leave Reims without stocking up on the famous biscuits de Reims—pink cookies that are a little crunchy on the outside and soft inside that were originally meant for dipping in Champagne—available in pâtisseries near the cathedral, notably at Maison Fossier (fossier.fr), founded in 1756.”
—Mireille Guiliano, author of French Women Don’t Get Fat and former president and CEO of Veuve Clicquot, a subsidiary of LVMH

BRETAGNE (BRITTANY)

Visitors to Paris can easily visit the region of Brittany for a more extended excursion. Trains leave from the Gare Montparnasse; most require changing at Rennes or Vannes, the biggest cities in the region. Those cities are 250–300 miles from Paris, so even with high-speed train service, plan for a couple of days at least. Brittany is quite different from the other regions near Paris because its history is predominantly Celtic, and its unique architecture, culture, geography, and Breton language are distinct from any other region of France. Within Brittany, my husband and I have thoroughly enjoyed visiting lovely Pont-Aven, with its water mills and the Musée des Beaux-Arts, which features works by Paul Gauguin, Paul Sérusier, Meyer de Haan, Émile Schuffenecker, Maurice Denis, and other members of the Pont-Aven School. Though Gauguin was a central figure of the Pont-Aven School, his works do not dominate the museum’s collection, which is rather refreshing, as it allows visitors to discover lesser-known but wonderful artists; for example, it was at Pont-Aven that Sérusier, under the guidance of Gauguin, painted his famed The Talisman (now in the Musée d’Orsay), launching the group known as the Nabis (Hebrew for “prophets”). Not far from Pont-Aven is Quimper, the very same town that the charming ceramics come from, where fans can buy not only brand-new pieces but also deuxième choix (“seconds”) at good prices. At Carnac, check out the mysterious alignements, megalithic stone monuments which date back to the Neolithic period, and throughout the region enjoy eating (too many) of the delicious butter-filled specialties—my favorites are the delicate galettes de Pont-Aven and the thicker traou mad (“good things” in Breton).

When I learned of a new book entitled I’ll Never Be French (No Matter What I Do): Living in a Small Village in Brittany by Mark Greenside (Free Press, 2008), I wasn’t sure I would like it because the title seemed a little too cute; plus, some reviewers said it was “laugh-out-loud funny,” an accolade about which I am always suspicious. But the praise was enough that I broke down and read it, and I’m so glad I did. Greenside has written a positively wonderful book that now joins the pantheon of similar books treating other parts of France.

Not only is the book great, but Greenside is, too. I met him for a café in New York when he was en route to France, at the beginning of the summer. After only a few minutes, it was clear that, despite the cutesy book title, he is genuinely respectful of his Breton friends and neighbors. Greenside currently spends summers and some holidays in Brittany, though he ponders a possible permanent move to France. In his book he notes that after living in the hills of Oakland, California, for nearly twenty years he didn’t know any of his neighbors, but in Brittany, in less than a month, he already knew two families—one that didn’t even speak English—and his social life was fuller than in the States. After more time spent in Brittany, he’s concluded, “This is what I love about France, the small things are large: a bonjour, ça va, a flower, a glass of water. It’s a good way to live.”

When his book was published in French in June 2010, Greenside was a little worried about how it would be received in his village. He decided he really needed to tell everyone, since he couldn’t be sure how people would respond to what he’d written about them. The first person he went to was the insurance guy—when you read the book you will understand why Greenside told me, “He was the one I was most worried about, because of all the characters he was the most exaggerated. I walked in without an appointment, I gave him a book, and I walked him through the chapters that he appears in. At first, I don’t tell him it’s coming out in French, and I explain that obviously I’m giving him this book because I don’t mean anyone any harm, and that I’ve only had good intentions. As I’m leaving his office, he says, ‘You know, my wife reads and speaks perfect English.’ And I thought to myself, Well, I’ve now lived my last day.” (Postscript: At Christmastime he received a letter from the insurance guy’s wife—she loved the book!)

I asked Greenside to share some of what he loves most about Brittany, and what follows is his short list:

• The light. The light is just extraordinary here. It’s that famous, northern, shimmering, glittering light, and even when it’s overcast it’s illuminating. It’s truly why all the Impressionist painters, every single one of them, came to Brittany. Along the whole coast the light is just magnificent. In the summertime, you have a long dusk because it doesn’t get fully dark until midnight. Brittany is known for its horrible weather, which is one reason why there aren’t a lot of tourists. But the weather changes dramatically all the time.

• The coastline, which is fantastic and is a lot like the coast of Mendocino, California. Some of the largest tides in the world are right here, and every year you hear about people drowning at Mont-Saint-Michel. The difference betweeen high tide and low tide is 1,500 meters. At low tide the beaches are endless.
• A crêpe. My first crêpe was the simplest of all crêpes, with just butter and sugar, and every time I think of it my mouth waters.
• Oysters. The Belon huîtres (oysters) are among the best in the world and I can get them an hour and a half south from my house. They’re best in the winter. One afternoon I got sixty oysters and went over to a friend’s house and we just shucked and ate them. The price is very affordable. There is oyster farming all around southern Brittany and there’s a fresh catch every day.
Cochon grillé (grilled pig). Every village has its own summer fête—it can be a religious day or a civil day and there is dancing, food, and music. As Brittany was home to several Celtic tribes by the time Caesar came to Gaul, you’ll see more Irish flags than you will French flags. And there will always be a huge meal. In my village the fête is known for salmon, but in other villages it’s cochon grillé. It’s delicious. I always look forward to my first cochon grillé of the season.
• The strawberries of Plougastel. These are the sweetest, juiciest strawberries I’ve ever tasted. They are unbelievable and this village has adopted the strawberry as its mascot. There’s even a strawberry museum! At the Fête des Fraises (Strawberry Festival) everyone wears costumes and all these kids run around dressed as strawberries.
• Three generations of entire families, often hand in hand. I’m constantly amazed at seeing families together and enjoying one another. Even the teenagers are enjoying themselves, and not just on fête days. Sunday family dinner is still a tradition, and the basic social unit is still the family. It’s just amazing.
• Time, and everyone’s relationship to time. In the States, I’m very much of a control freak, type double-A: I control my life and I control my environment, I get from point A to point B, if I need help I know where to get it, and I know how to accomplish things. In France I am 100 percent dependent—there I am used to standing in line and used to understanding that this is the way you do it, this is how it works. My American friends don’t even recognize me when they come and visit and see how I am in France. In America I want everything quick, fast, direct, and to the point, and I want to do everything I can for myself. In my village, it’s okay if you spend a few minutes chatting with the proprietor of the boulangerie when there’s ten people behind you.
• War monuments. Brittany was occupied during both world wars, so every village has its World War I memorial—it’s staggering—and you’ll also find De Gaulle monuments for World War II. Plaques with De Gaulle’s famous speech imprinted on them are mounted on many of the Breton ports, and from what I understand, more people from Brittany joined up with the Free French and the Resistance than anyone else in France. There’s a war presence in every town, especially because the German fortifications are still there along the entire coast. Every bay you go to you see the triangular formation of the machine guns—they can’t get rid of them.

  

  

• The churches. In Brittany, it’s very Catholic, as the Bretons supported the Church over the monarchy. But the churches are Gothic scare-the-hell-out-of-you churches, with pictorials explaining to illiterate people the stories of the Bible. Bretons are Gaelic and they’re very fatalistic. Stuff happens; what are you going to do about it? They’re not a depressing people despite all of this. They’re extremely curious about everything. It’s not like the States where when someone asks you how you’re doing they don’t really want to know. Bretons really want to know. They want to know about my geraniums, my car, and my wife, who is Japanese.
• The granite stone for the houses and the bridges. It’s all schist, and the colors just have a solidity to them; this is where they belong. You might think that with all this stone everything would be harsh, but it’s very soft and welcoming, and it looks really nice with my door—I painted my door a bright blue color and I love it. It’s typically Breton style and I just like looking at it. With all the stone around, everything feels like it has a solidity to it, a permanence to it, a history to it that is very, very real and tangible. Nothing about Brittany feels ephemeral—and that’s also part of what I love about it.

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It seemed to me that Parisians had taken care to ensure that even the smallest details of life were beautiful.
—BARBARA WILDE,
OWNER, L’ATELIER VERT

A PARIS MISCELLANY

I envision this A to Z section of my books as an informative and interesting sourcebook, one that could almost be published as a separate volume. Compiling it is both fun and overwhelming—fun because I love enthusing about these engaging subjects and overwhelming because I could have submitted hundreds more under almost every letter of the alphabet. For me, this section is a compilation of good things and favorite places—and of course a list of anyone’s Parisian favorites is almost impossible to compile because it would be too long. I am always adding things to the list each time I visit, so it keeps changing, some entries replacing others. So in the spirit of sharing and comparing, what follows are worthy entries for all sorts of sites, lodgings, shops, museums, views, words and phrases, culinary treats, souvenirs, and noteworthy bits of trivia. I’ve tried not to repeat favorites of mine featured elsewhere in the book, but forgive me if I enthuse again about a few. And, as always, please browse my blog, Thecollectedtraveler.blogspot.com, for many more recommendations and updates.

A

Accommodations

Architecture critic Paul Goldberger has written that “a good hotel is a place, a town, a city, a world unto itself, and the aura it exudes has almost nothing to do with its rooms and almost everything to do with everything else—the lobby, the bar, the restaurants, the façade, the signs, even the corridors and the elevators.” Hotels like the ones Goldberger describes exist in all price categories, and they are, to my mind, the kind of places most of us seek. Paris has an abundance of selections in all categories and in all price ranges, and if anything it will be difficult to choose from the many appealing places! In fact, for a stay of more than a few days, I recommend making reservations at more than one place. In this way visitors may experience different types of lodgings as well as neighborhoods, perhaps choosing a combination of a modest inn and one very special place for a splurge. I do not buy into the idea that accommodations are only places to sleep—where you stay can be one of the most memorable parts of your trip, and the staff at your chosen accommodation can be enormously helpful in making your trip special. Deciding where to stay should not be taken lightly and deserves your best research efforts.

It is not my intent to visit dozens of hotels in Paris and report on them—that is the purview of guidebooks, Web sites, and accommodation guides. But as someone who pays close attention to the tiniest details, has stayed in accommodations ranging from campgrounds to five-star hotels, is practically allergic to must and dust, has an exacting idea of the words “customer service,” and has been known to rearrange the furniture in a few hotel rooms, I do think I have something valuable to share with readers. And besides, because many people ask me for recommendations, I move around a lot when I travel, changing hotels and arranging visits to those that are fully booked or that I otherwise might not see. I make sure to see lodgings both moderately priced and expensive, so that readers have personal recommendations for both. Most often, I am drawn to the moderate places that also represent a good value, as I’ve found that these sometimes receive the least attention. It’s never hard to find out about the budget or luxury places to stay, but the places in between—which I believe suit the pocketbooks of the majority of travelers—are often overlooked or given cursory consideration.

I myself do not generally prefer chain hotels, especially American ones, but those who do will find a number of them in Paris. I prefer to consult specialty hotel groups (assuming there is one for the destination I’m visiting), and among my favorites for France are Châteaux & Hôtels Collection (chateauxhotels.com), Gîtes de France (gites-de-france.com), Relais & Châteaux (relaischateaux.com), and Relais du Silence (relaisdusilence.com). Additionally, I like Small Luxury Hotels of the World (slh.com) and Leading Hotels of the World (lhw.com).

Regarding books about accommodations in Paris: there is no shortage. Here are the books I consult when I’m contemplating where to stay (and, yes, I really do peruse all of these—there is hardly any overlap and I like to know I’ve turned over every stone in considering my options before heading out):

Alastair Sawday’s Special Places to Stay series, with editons on Paris, French châteaux and hotels, and bed and breakfasts, and Go Slow France and French Vineyards (Alastair Sawday Publishing). Over the years I’ve used a great number of Sawday’s books for locations throughout the world, with great success. There’s also useful information on the Sawday’s Web site (sawdays.co.uk).
Boutique and Chic Hotels in Paris by Lionel Paillès (Little Bookroom, 2008) is a chunky little book with fifty-two great recommendations for places that Paillès refers to as “pocket palaces, boutique hotels, or neo-Oriental nests … atmosphere is their stock in trade, so it takes very little time to feel at home.” There are a number of hotels in this book with rates under one hundred and twenty euros per night—among them the Hôtel Eldorado (eldoradohotel.fr) and Villa Toscane (hotelvillatoscane.fr), both of which are far more appealing than many places I’ve seen for the same price. However, the listings vary widely, with some places over three hundred euros per night. The photos are satisfactory for giving you a sense of where you’ll be staying; there are also brief suggestions for things to do in each hotel’s neighborhood at the back of the book.
Karen Brown’s France Bed & Breakfasts and France Hotels (Karen Brown Guides, updated for 2010). Award-winning Karen Brown Guides have been great resources for accommodations for over thirty years, and are admired for their meticulous research. The guides differ from the Alastair Sawday series in that they typically focus more on exceptional high-end (rather than moderately priced) places to stay. Also find tips on her Web site (karenbrown.com).
Parisian Hideaways: Exquisite Rooms in Enchanting Hotels by Casey O’Brien Blondes and with photographs by Béatrice Amagat (Rizzoli, 2009) is my newest hotel resource and I just love it. Blondes’s vision of an idyllic Parisian location is a quiet street as opposed to a wide avenue, and she prefers places that are intimate with lots of personal contact, leaving out the palace hotels, franchises, and chains. Especially helpful are her own categories of hotels, such as Brocante Chic, Design Classics, Timeless Elegance, and Historic Flavor. She invited each hotel’s owner or manager to share their coups de coeur (favorites) for their respective neighborhoods, because, as Blondes wisely notes, “the most valuable resource a Parisian hideaway has to offer is the knowledge and rich culture of its owner and management. They know their neighborhood and relish sharing its secrets with guests.… There is a good chance your stay will engender an ongoing friendship, as these hotels, like the city they encapsulate, foster fidelity. It’s hard to find someone who has visited Paris and doesn’t dream of returning.”
Paris: Hotels and More by Angelika Taschen with photos by Vincent Knapp (Taschen, 2006). I admit I was initially drawn to the beautiful feel of this book (I even like the smell of the paper!), but it’s as useful as it is pretty. Taschen has chosen hotels that capture the character and atmosphere of Paris, and includes her favorite shops and sites in each neighborhood; she’s left room for readers to record their own favorite finds as well.

I highly respect the writers of the hotel guides above and don’t pretend to share their level of expertise, but I do stand by the lodgings that I particularly like. I believe any one of the places listed below will make your stay in Paris special:

Four Seasons George V (31 avenue George-V, 8ème / +33 01 49 52 70 00 / fourseasons.com/paris). I have long been a big fan of the Four Seasons brand, and the company’s Paris outpost is a splendid success. Four Seasons acquired the George V from Trust House Forte in 1997 and basically gutted the building before reopening in 1999; before the association with Four Seasons, the original George V hotel, opened in 1928, had an illustrious history: in 1944 the hotel was General Eisenhower’s headquarters during the liberation of Paris. The recent $125 million renovation included interior design by Pierre-Yves Rochon, a reconfiguration of the guest rooms—there are now fewer rooms (245) but they are larger—and a restoration of the building’s Art Deco façade.

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It’s easy to enthuse for pages and pages about the George V. There’s so much to recommend it: its service; restaurant Le Cinq, with two Michelin stars under the direction of chef Éric Briffard; a wine cellar with more than fifty thousand bottles and twenty new labels added each week; recreations manager Claudia Caringi, responsible for the hotel’s younger guests (numbering up to eighty children a month during peak times), who makes it easy to see why the George V was named a family favorite by Travel + Leisure in 2009; the house Rolls-Royce Phantom (Hermès-inspired, hand-built, and available for airport pickups, day trips, or business in Paris); its concierge desk and specifically Adrian Moore (referred to as “a food-savvy culture maven who knows Paris inside and out” by Bon Appétit, and whose blog, Adrianmoore.blogspot.com, is a great resource); its truly beautiful spa, inspired by Marie Antoinette’s beauty secrets and a summer walk in the gardens of Versailles; the list goes on. But to my mind the best feature of the George V is the flower arrangements by artistic director Jeff Leatham. Even if the hotel is too costly for a stay, drop by the hotel’s lobby, the Marble Courtyard, and the lounge La Galerie so you can see Leatham’s breathtaking creations. Approximately nine thousand blooms are purchased every week from the Netherlands, and Leatham and his seven assistants design new themes for the hotel, refreshing the flower sculptures on a daily—sometimes hourly—basis. Leatham, who had no formal training in flowers but did have a landscape artist for a father, has observed that “flowers bring out the passion in people, they exude energy, color, and light, and they can lift us above the brouhaha of everyday life.” His arrangements have set the standard for all Four Seasons hotels. (Leatham provided arrangements for Chelsea Clinton’s wedding and has his own show on TLC, Flowers Uncut, plus he has a studio in New York; see Jeffleatham.com.) Rates at the George V range from approximately 825 to 13,000 euros.

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Paris Splurges
In addition to the Four Seasons George V, there are a number of palace hotels and other very grand places to consider for a splurge, for just one night or several, including Le Bristol (112 rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, 8ème / +33 01 53 43 43 00 / lebristolparis.com), Hôtel de Crillon (10 place de la Concorde, 8ème / +33 01 44 71 15 00 / crillon.com), Le Meurice (228 rue de Rivoli, 1er / +33 01 44 58 10 10 / lemeurice.com), Plaza Athénée (25 avenue Montaigne, 8ème / +33 01 53 67 66 65 / plaza-athenee-paris.com), and the Ritz (15 place Vendôme, 1er / +33 01 43 16 30 30 / ritzparis.com). Of this last, Travel + Leisure special correspondent Christopher Petkanas has said, “For sense of arrival nothing can touch it.” I am partial to Le Meurice because of its history and its location on the rue de Rivoli (I love the arcades), and the view from the rooms on the Tuileries side—overlooking the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre—takes my breath away.

Pavillon de la Reine (28 place des Vosges, 3ème / t33 01 40 29 19 19 / pavillon-de-la-reine.com). This lovely inn, among the most romantic in Paris, takes its name from Anne of Austria, who slept here just before her wedding to King Louis XIII (after which she became la reine, the queen).

It’s wonderful enough to stay in the vicinity of the Place des Vosges, but even more special to stay in a building that is actually a part of it. Pavillon is the only hotel on the place and its entrance is tucked away, so unless staying here tourists don’t usually wander by, adding to the hotel’s exclusivity. Pavillon was recently completely renovated; the interior décor, which blends soft and bold colors with velvets and arabesque-patterned fabric in the hallways, was the vision of Didier Benderli, formerly with Jacques Garcia and designer of David Bouley’s namesake restaurant in New York. A member of Small Luxury Hotels of the World, the hotel remains privately owned by the Chevalier family and is managed by director Tim Goddard, who oversaw the multi-million-euro renovation and has been at the hotel for nearly twenty years.

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Each of the forty-two guest rooms and twelve suites is unique, but they all are elegant and evoke a sense of calm and intimacy. Indeed, from the minute you step into the Pavillon’s lobby you feel you’ve entered a different world, peaceful and far removed from the bustle on nearby rue des Francs-Bourgeois. There are lots of antiques and exposed wood beams throughout the hotel, but in addition to this Old World quality there are plenty of contemporary touches in both the public and the guest rooms, notably with the flat-screen TVs atop carved wooden chests and Molton Brown toiletries in the modern bathrooms. The duplex rooms on the first floor were decorated by interior designer Nathalie Prost—whose other hotel credits include the Lancaster, Sofitel Bora-Bora, and Club Med Kos—and they are warm, cozy, and fantastic. The Suite de la Reine, with an enlarged, handwritten parchment page from Rimbaud’s Une Saison en enfer above the bed, is one of the most unique and comfortable hotel rooms I’ve ever seen. A small Carita spa (two treatment rooms, fitness room, Jacuzzi, and steam room) was added during the renovation, and offers an anti–jet lag massage; there is no restaurant, and the breakfast room is open only to guests.

Photo Credit bm1.5

The hotel still attracts an artistic clientele; Jean-Paul Gaultier once lived in the hotel, and a look at the guest book reveals the names of John Malkovich, Jane Fonda, Christian Lacroix, and Jeremy Irons, who wrote, “What? Write in a book / Where gentlemen look / And ladies spy / Not I, not I!” Rates range from 375 to 835 euros. Note: A sister hotel, Le Pavillon des Lettres (12 rue des Saussaies, 8ème / +33 01 49 24 26 26) opened in the fall of 2010. I haven’t seen the hotel yet, but it’s also designed by Didier Benderli, and it pays tribute to letters written by such authors as Baudelaire, Hugo, Ibsen, Kafka, Nerval, Shakespeare, Tolstoy, Yeats, and Zola. Particular passages from their letters are printed on the walls of guest rooms. Rates range from approximately 300 to 460 euros.

Hôtel Verneuil (8 rue de Verneuil, 7ème / +33 01 42 60 82 14 / hotelverneuil.com), Hôtel Thérèse (5–7 rue Thérèse, 1er / +33 01 42 96 10 01 / hoteltherese.com), and Hôtel Récamier (3 bis place Saint-Sulpice, 6ème / +33 01 43 26 04 89 / hotel recamier.com). Sylvie de Lattre, a stylish and savvy entrepreneur, now owns a trio of hotels that are my current favorites in Paris. The oldest in the group is the Hôtel Verneuil, a cozy twenty-six-room inn just off the rue des Saint-Pères in Saint-Germain that de Lattre acquired in 1997. For De Lattre, it was her first step into the hotel world. She had studied political science, worked in property management, and had lived in England, Hong Kong, and Singapore with her husband, but then realized she wanted to start her own business in hospitality management. She took over the Verneuil, which had changed hands a few times over a thirty-year span, and had it redecorated completely—and, she told me, she’ll likely change it all again in the next few years. The renovation and redecoration were done by Michelle Halard, a well-known designer and decorator also responsible for the interiors of restaurant Pierre Gagnaire and, in Provence, the Hôtel L’Oustau de Baumanière (as well as some dinnerware pieces for the French earthenware company Gien).

Each guest room in the seventeenth-century building is decorated differently and the overall feel is that of a maison particulière, or private home. Most of the guest rooms are small and space is tight—though imaginatively used, as in the narrow closet space on either side of the bed—and some rooms have doors so close together that occupants can’t open them simultaneously. This is a common feature, however, in very old buildings in Europe, as are other quirks, such as uneven steps, which you will also see at the Verneuil, and elevator service begins on the second floor, so your bags must be carried up a flight of steps first. I have no quibble with these features, as they contribute to the overall charm of this lovely hotel, and at any rate the staff here is so accommodating, and so genuinely concerned that you have un bon séjour (good stay), that it more than compensates for any architectural limitations.

Photo Credit bm1.6 (top), Photo Credit bm1.16 (middle, bottom)

Guest rooms combine (mostly) bold colors with printed fabrics; my room was a warm shade of red while a friend’s was a light mint green. The lobby and adjoining salon, with a black-and-white tiled floor, pretty wood paneling, bookshelves, and fireplace, are great public spaces where guests may gather and enjoy glasses of wine or Champagne. Breakfast is served in a subterranean room of bright whitewashed stone arches, another example of a creative use of space. It didn’t take me long to notice that every time I stepped through the Verneuil’s front door I was greeted by a really lovely scent, which was from a customized candle created for the hotel by the skilled perfumist Gilles Dewavrin (gillesdewavrin.net). Happily for me, guests may purchase these candles, and now every time I light one in my home I immediately think of my stay at the Verneuil (I also beg anyone who’s going to Paris to bring me back another one). The Verneuil’s location is superb: ten minutes’ walk from the Musée d’Orsay, ten minutes to Saint-Germain-des-Prés, fifteen minutes to Saint-Sulpice, and two blocks from the Seine, with the Louvre just on the other side of the Pont du Carrousel. Guest testimonials in the livre d’or attest to the hotel’s popularity, so advance booking is advised. Room rates range from approximately 148 to 240 euros.

Hôtel Thérèse is the only inn of the three on the Right Bank, located between the Louvre, the Opéra, rue Saint-Honoré, and the Palais Royal. It’s popular with business travelers (there is a seminar room for meetings) but its uncluttered comfort and airy feel appeal to leisure visitors as well. The talented Jean-Philippe Nuel supervised the décor of the forty guest rooms and three junior suites; rooms are larger than those at the Verneuil and are more contemporary, yet in a classic way. The street-level lounge has a very clubby feel and is a great place to read the paper, meet friends, and relax. Overall, the clientele at the Thérèse represents a more balanced international range; fewer Americans stay here than at the Verneuil or Récamier. Room rates range from approximately 155 to 320 euros.

  

Photo Credit bm1.7

  (top and bottom photo)

Hôtel Récamier, opened in 2009, is the jewel of the group. Recently featured in the pages of Elle Décor and Maison Côté Paris, the Récamier is chic and classic at once. The hotel has a very similar feel to the J.K. Place hotels in Florence and Capri—in fact, when I met Sylvie de Lattre, she told me that although she’d not yet seen those noteworthy hotels, the designer she hired for the Récamier, Jean-Louis Deniot, had, and it’s apparent that there is some J.K. Place influence in the rooms of the Récamier. I happen to love J.K. Place, and so I also love the Récamier’s original touches. The Récamier was the first hotel project for Deniot, and the only direction she gave him was to create a cross between a traditional hotel and an elegant private town house, something that was special and that nobody had seen in Paris before. Deniot created twenty-four unique rooms using 150 fabrics and 50 wallpapers, and he put elements together that might at first seem not to blend. Each room mixes texture and pattern and each bed features patterned coverlets and a canopy, but every room is different and no two pieces of furniture are alike.

Every floor of the hotel has its own color scheme or theme—black and white, ethnic chic, gold and black, coral red and Asian, blue-gray—and on every level of the central spiral staircase is a bust of Madame Récamier, each a newfangled interpretation of Jacques-Louis David’s famous painting of the same name in the Louvre, in the styles of such artists as Niki de Saint Phalle, Christo, and Yves Klein. A nice feature is that, on every floor, the two rooms overlooking Place Saint-Sulpice can be opened up and made into a suite. The Récamier has a small outside patio where breakfast is served in nice weather; otherwise it is offered in the petit salon where complimentary tea, coffee, and refreshments are served to guests for l’heure de goûter (snack time) from four to six p.m. The hotel’s location in the sixth right by Saint-Sulpice is just fantastic. Room rates range from approximately 250 to 420 euros.

Photo Credit bm1.8

Recommended Budget Choices
Hôtel Chopin (46 passage Jouffroy, 9ème / +33 01 47 70 58 10) and its sister property, the Hôtel de la Bretonnerie (22 rue Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie, 4ème / +33 01 48 87 77 63); both reachable at hotelbretonnerie.com.
Hôtel des Grandes Écoles (75 rue du Cardinal-Lemoine, 5ème / +33 01 43 26 79 23 / hotel-grandes-ecoles.com).
Hôtel des Grands Hommes (17 place du Panthéon, 5ème / +33 01 46 34 19 60 / paris-hotel-grandshommes.com).
Hôtel Mayet (3 rue Mayet, 6ème / +33 01 47 83 21 35 / mayet.com).
Hôtel Saint Thomas d’Aquin (3 rue du Pré-aux-Clercs, 7ème / +33 01 42 61 01 22 / hotel-st-thomas-daquin.com).
Mama Shelter (109 rue de Bagnolet, 20ème / +33 01 43 48 48 48 / mamashelter.com).
Port-Royal Hotel (8 boulevard de Port-Royal, 5ème / +33 01 43 31 70 06 / hotelportroyal.fr).
Recommended Hôtels de Charme
Hôtels de charme are in abundance in France and are perhaps a little hard to describe because there are so few in North America. An hôtel de charme is usually a place that is small, charming, not expensive or luxurious, and a good value. The phrase also denotes quality and character, and may be run by family members. Hôtels de charme may be found in rural areas as well as urban, and there are a number in Paris. Generally, an hôtel de charme is not the equivalent of a boutique hotel, which typically costs more and features more modern conveniences.
Hôtel d’Angleterre (44 rue Jacob, 6ème / +33 01 42 60 16 93 / hotel-dangleterre.com).
Hôtel Duc de Saint-Simon (14 rue de Saint-Simon, 7ème / +33 01 45 48 68 25 / hotelducdesaintsimon.com).
Hôtel du Jeu de Paume (54 rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île, 4ème / +33 01 43 26 14 18 / jeudepaumehotel.com).
Recommended Rental Agencies
À La Carte Paris (alacarteparis.com).
I Love Paris Apartments (iloveparisapartments.com).
Paris Appartements Services (paris-apts.com).
Paris Home Shares (parishomeshares.net).
Vacation in Paris (vacationinparis.com).

Antiques and Auction Houses

Paris has long been a great destination for antiques, and visitors who love antiques shopping will not be disappointed in one area in particular: in the streets of the sixth and seventh arrondissements. Big news in the auction house world came in 2000, when a monopoly restricting auction sales to French nationals was declared void. (Previously foreigners had to arrange for a French person to bid for them.) The monopoly had been established by a royal edict of Henri II in 1556, and in the four centuries since, London and the United States had outpaced Paris in sales, as well as in market savvy and diversification. Christie’s and Sotheby’s (both British firms) now have a presence in Paris, but the Hôtel Drouot (drouot.com) is Paris’s historic auction house, founded in 1852 and located on the corner of rue Drouot and rue Rossini in the ninth arrondissement; there are also salesrooms at 15 avenue Montaigne in the eighth, as well as at Drouot Nord and Drouot Véhicules (outside of the city). The house is actually an umbrella group now owned by a subsidiary of the bank BNP Paribas, with sixteen different halls and seventy independent auction firms, which can be intimidating indeed to would-be auction participants.

Antiques professionals, interior decorators, architects, casual collectors, or simply those interested in attending an auction or a flea market should contact Emily Marshall at Grotto Antiques tout de suite. Marshall is the only American to have earned a diploma from the famed École Boulle, a prestigious applied-arts school for the decorative arts in Paris. Named after Louis XIV’s cabinetmaker André-Charles Boulle, students of the school must have a thorough knowledge of the history of French furnishings and demonstrate proficiency in drafting and hand sewing to earn the Certificat d’Aptitude Professionnelle, or CAP, degree. Marshall prepared for the CAP by training for two years with Madame Catherine Bientz, a drapery-maker for the shah of Iran. École Boulle is highly selective; in 1995, the year she began at the school, only eighteen students were selected out of several hundred to attend. Since graduating, Marshall has created draperies for distinctive apartments in Paris and has continued to apprentice and train, acquiring professional techniques few, if any, other Americans know. In addition to operating Grotto Antiques (1399 East Tutt Road, Trenton, Kentucky / 615 430 5491 / grottoantiques.com) and specializing in haute couture for the home, Marshall and her husband offer an international antiques courier service in France. They also organize antiques shopping tours to the flea markets and auction houses, always negotiating for the best price.

Photo Credit bm1.9

Through a serendipitous saving of Marshall’s business card, nearly ten years after first meeting her I tracked her down, and we reconnected by telephone and e-mail.

Q: When did you first visit Paris, and what was it that inspired you to go?
A: I’d majored in anthropology and Brazilian Portuguese in college and had lived and worked in Brazil. When I was job hunting, I discovered the Austin Company, a tobacco agency based in Greeneville, Tennessee, that bought tobacco for domestic and foreign manufacturers and it had plants in Brazil, so I decided to explore job opportunities with them. I was hired as Austin’s first woman in the leaf department, which I was mainly responsible for buying at auction.

  

  Photo Credit bm1.10

I’d work half the year and travel for the rest. I went to London and Paris, where Austin’s second-largest customer, SEITA, the French tobacco monopoly, was based. So it seemed natural to inhale Gauloises and Gitanes sur place. Through family connections I was able to arrange a stay in a bohemian garret in the fifteenth, and Paris cast its spell. Once I returned to work, I began to scheme: how could I go back and stay longer? Austin gave me a year off to work on an MBA degree. I met a Parisian and fell in love—ironically his godfather headed up Philip Morris in Switzerland, one of Austin’s clients—and I said adieu to the tobacco business. I stayed in Paris until 2006, returning to the States only then to start Grotto Antiques with my second husband, Mehdi Zohouri.
Q: Were you always interested in antiques and textiles?
A: Looking back now as an older woman, I realize one should never underestimate the ability of a child’s eye to be educated and cultivated to appreciate beautiful and worldly things. I grew up on a rolling cattle and tobacco farm in the middle of Tennessee, but foreign influences blew regularly in and out. My father was a sea captain, and his annual visit home would have him loaded down with silk from India and Egypt, ebony from Africa, and lacquerware from the Orient. My favorite uncle, Jim Beaumont Marshall, was a career State Department employee and traveled the world. His keen eye and own fascination with textiles initiated me to the world of Indonesian ikat, Suzani embroidery, and Indian silks. I’m sure the textile bug comes from him. Also, a woman named Dorothy Ann Ross Russo was a great influence—she’d spent her junior year abroad studying at the Sorbonne, and her home had mysterious escargots and freshly baked French-style bread. She read us Babar in French. I’d sip coffee with her artist husband, Remo, in their kitchen nook and quiz her on those buildings taped to the wall: Chinon, Chenonceau, and Blois. I see those black-and-white prints even now; I was seven at the time.
I started sewing at six. Both my grandmothers did beautiful work and my mother made her own Vogue Paris Originals during the early sixties. By twelve, I could make most anything, and in my teens, I could make coats interlined and lined. When I was nineteen I had a job in Washington, D.C., working for a gift shop, where I learned of Cristal d’Arc, Limoges china, and Quimper ware. The back area had French fabric, and on my breaks I would drool over the material. So my eye developed in America, but it was École Boulle’s Histoire de l’Ameublement Français (History of French Furniture) course that ignited the passion for French antiques, textiles, and decoration.
Q: You are the only American to ever attend Paris’s prestigious École Boulle. What transpired that made you want to apply for admission?
A: A terrible French divorce! Did you see the film Le Divorce, based on Diane Johnson’s book? Leslie Caron is nothing compared to my ex-belle-mère. Sewing calms my nerves and was a channel to relieve a whole lot of stress. But more officially, I was thumbing through a catalog of adult courses offered by the Mairie de Paris (mayor’s office) and I stumbled upon the heading Tapisserie d’ameublement, and it got me thinking that I wanted to learn soft furnishing techniques. Later, when I sent in the application to the École Boulle, I was selected out of hundreds of candidates.
Courses at École Boulle include French, physics, industrial and hand sewing, technology, drawing, cutting patterns and draping, and the history of French furniture and architecture. Each subject has a coefficient. Meaning if you’re not so hot in French (coefficient 2), you’ll make up points with the sewing project (coefficient 10). Just don’t make a zero in a subject: no diploma will be awarded. I became passionate for French antiques in the History of French Furniture class. Working chronologically, we worked our way up through the styles, starting with the Romanesque. It wasn’t just furniture but the architecture and fabric associated with each period. I made up flash cards scrambling all the periods together, and I received a perfect score on the final exam. I loved it, and I’d discovered what I wanted to do with my life. I drove my husband crazy—he’d see me coming down the hall and duck out of the way, not wanting me to quiz him on some fauteuil canné à la reine, époque Louis XV or duchesse brisée.
Q: Where did you meet your second husband, and did he, too, have a passion for the antiques market in Paris?
A: At the marché aux puces, the Paris flea market, bien sûr! One Friday morning, I came around a corner in the Marché Dauphine and there was this gorgeous man with an equally gorgeous stand. Voilà! He’d grown up in Tehran’s bazaar with his father, and when the shah’s regime collapsed, he lost his scholarship and had to eat, so he sold antique photographs at the puces to survive. He’s been there thirty years now.
Q: When did you establish Grotto Antiques, and what do you specialize in?
A: January 2007. The antiques side of the company deals in a refined eighteenth-century look. Unfortunately, a dealer has to buy what the market wants, and now, modern rules. Magazines dictate the current look and most people don’t have the courage or taste to buck the trend. I like to think we hold people’s hands to help them be individualistic and nonconforming when it comes to creating a home. The other part of our business is the École Boulle atelier. We just landed a prestigious project with one of America’s top architectural and interior design firms. Our specialty? Roman shades made in the same fashion as the Élysée Palace.
Q: When did you start attending auctions at the Hôtel de Vente Drouot?
A: Right after I got the CAP in 1996. The official visit at Drouot is all day long the day before the auction. (Check La Gazette de l’Hôtel de Vente Drouot for specific information on hours and merchandise to be presented—for example, silver, coins, books, wine, furniture, modern paintings, etc.) Still, professionals huddle around the steel grates just before eleven a.m., chatting and smoking, waiting for the one-hour visit, eleven to noon. The steel grate opens and they’re off! A mad frenzy of hundreds of dealers, pushing and elbowing, up and down escalators, all on a mission: to find things that’ll make money. There’s an hour to scout through thousands of articles: sixty minutes to note the salle, estimate price, leave an order, corner the commissaire, befriend the auctioneer, and spy the competition. Promptly at noon the doors slam shut.
Auctions begin at around two, though longer ones can start at one-thirty or sometimes even in the morning. You stand—all day long—in the back or running between the salles. You have to stand so you can see your competition or whether the auctioneer has a pigeon (fake bid) in the corner. Dealers crush you, on purpose. You’re on tiptoes trying to see. And the smell can be overwhelming—there is often a clochard (bum) in his filthy clothes, trying to warm up in winter weather. The auctioneer announces the numbered article and opens with a bid: Monsieur, est-ce que j’ai cinq cents? (Do I have five hundred?) Five hundred in an eloquent, slow chant. Six cents? (Six hundred?) Six cents! Et sept cents? (Seven hundred?) Est-ce que j’ai preneur à sept cents? Sept cents! Sept cents! Adjugé, sept cents euros! The commissaire flies to the person that’s bought the lot, gets his check or cash, and hurries back with his name to the recording secretary, who makes out the bill. In the meantime, the crieur has already started taking bids on the next auctioned article. Back and forth and back and forth, all day long, every minute, a lot is sold.
Photo Credit bm1.11
Q: The Drouot auction house can be intimidating to visitors, which is where your courier service can prove to be invaluable. What exactly does your service provide, and what are some notable pieces that you’ve found for your clients over the years?
A: Drouot is a closed world where if you’re unknown, you can’t bid. The auctioneers don’t know you—won’t take your bid—and the dealers won’t let you have anything anyway. Are you fluent in French? Can you follow the auction? Do you have a K-bis (professional license) and a business checking account? Foreign check? Forget it. Letter of credit from a foreign bank? Too expensive and too long to arrive. Credit card? Probably not. Most auction houses don’t take them anyway. We make it possible to get over these hurdles, and it’s worth it. Daily, Drouot has treasures for those who wait and happen to be at the right place at the right time.
We provide two services: buying at auction, and our courier service at the main Paris flea market (Puces de Clignancourt) and professional trade shows (déballages). We take customers under our wing at the flea market and protect them from dishonest dealers and unsavory characters who tend to congregate near the market. (We know a Manhattan dealer who got his cell stolen right out of his hand and an old woman whose teeth were knocked out at an ATM. Tip? Never put cash in your purse; thieves will rip it right off your shoulder.)
Tackling this sometimes seedy world, though, has its fruits: beautiful antiques found at great prices. We really do it all from A to Z, honestly and with a genuine pride in seeing to our customer’s satisfaction.
Q: What are Les Grands Ateliers de France?
A: Simply put, they’re the best artisans in France—la crème de la crème in their field, of upholstery, gilt bronze, embroidery, furniture restoration, etc. Maison Brazet is one; Rémy Brazet’s fine upholstery atelier may be visited in an inner courtyard on a shopping street in the sixteenth. Many locals don’t even know it’s there. Last time I went, he was placing feathers on Catherine the Great’s bed that the Getty Museum had bought from Bernard Steinitz. Brazet also works for the Metropolitan Museum of Art and once had a New York customer who flew on the Concorde to discuss trim with him. His work is so perfect that one museum thought he’d cheated by using foam instead of horsehair. He sliced open the chair to prove them wrong.
Q: I know you have literally hundreds of Paris addresses, other than Maison Brazet and some known only to the trade, in your attaché case. Can you share some of your favorite and most distinctive with Collected Traveler readers?
A: Dealers never give out their sources. That’s how we make our living. But here are a few I can share with my brief notes:
Fried Frères (13 rue du Caire, 2ème / +33 01 42 33 51 55 / friedfreres.fr). Supplies crystal beads, sequins, and pearls to haute couture houses. Sold prestrung for crochet embroidery. Stockroom stuffed to the ceiling! Minimum order. Worth a visit to feel the energy of the Sentier, the garment district.
Lesage (13 rue de la Grange-Batelière, 9ème / +33 01 44 79 00 88 / www.lesage-paris.com). François Lesage, the father. Right beside Drouot. The master of French hook (crochet) embroidery and has a school open to the general public. Courses, beginning level I, expensive. His haute couture atelier for designers like Chanel, Jean Paul Gaultier, and YSL is never open to the public.
Jean-François Lesage (207 rue Saint-Honoré, 1er / +33 01 44 50 01 01 / jeanfrancoislesage.com). François’s son. Luxurious home embroidery produced in India; mostly gold and silver thread. Don’t even bother calling unless you’re professional or seriously interested in ordering. Works only with high-end customers: Saudi Arabian princes, aristocrats, and foreign governments.
Boisson (181 rue Saint-Denis, 2ème / +33 01 45 08 02 61). Rue Saint-Denis can be disturbing, as prostitutes of all sizes and ages hang out in doorways. A single woman, especially a pretty one, might be bothered if walking alone. Don’t let that stop you from visiting this boutique stuffed with thread and yarn of all descriptions for weaving and embroidery. Cotton warp thread for tapestry and rug making. Owner welcoming and knowledgeable.
Au Ver à Soie (102 rue Réaumur, 2ème / +33 01 42 33 52 92 / auverasoie.com). The best store in the world for silk thread! Located in the heart of the garment district. Silk thread and ribbon in all forms, shapes, and sizes, even chenille. Color palette incredible. Minimum order. Can find retail at Ultramod (3–4 rue de Choiseul, 2ème).
Léobert (75 ter rue de Charonne, 11ème / +33 01 43 71 70 05). Wholesale-only upholstery supplies. École Boulle’s source.
Brigitte Duros (27 rue Froidevaux, 14ème / +33 01 43 22 44 77 / tapisserie-paris.com). Judge for Meilleur Ouvrier de France embroidery competition. Restores tapestry, embroidery, and antique fabrics. Can duplicate most any textile. Dyes her own yarn, fixing the tint in bouse de vache (sounds better in French—fermented cow manure!) to restore antique tapisseries. Located on charming courtyard behind the Montparnasse cemetery.
La Galerie des Cadres (131 rue des Rosiers, Saint-Ouen / +33 06 80 65 22 33 / galeriedescadres.studio-batignolles.com). Michel Idée owns this great source for frames at the Paris flea market. All periods and styles. If he doesn’t have it, he’ll find it!
Maison Degroote-Mussy (12 passage des Taillandiers, 11ème / +33 01 48 05 17 16). Last time we popped in, they had a back order of six months, fabricating furniture for Alberto Pinto. One of the few furniture makers still in the Faubourg Saint-Antoine.
Gauthier et Cie (68 avenue Ledru-Rollin, 12ème / +33 01 47 00 60 44 / gauthier-cie.com). Monsieur Tournay’s boutique used to be hidden inside a courtyard on rue de Charonne. He’s upscale now, with a beautiful shop. Why not, for the most beautiful curtain rods in the world? Massive gilt bronze Louis XV consoles. Hand-sculpted wooden rods tinted to the client’s specification. Sells primarily to Russian and Middle Eastern markets. A downer? No new catalog nor price list. To-the-trade only.
Georges Le Manach (31 rue du Quatre-Septembre, 2ème / +33 01 47 42 52 94 / lemanach.fr). Upstairs, delicious silks produced by a meilleur ouvrier de France using Adidas-clad foot power. Jean Paul Getty’s fabric source. Factory in Tours to visit by appointment only. Worth it to see men—tattoos and earrings—hand weaving silk. Sale on slightly irregular fabrics.
Passementerie Île-de-France (11 rue Trousseau, 11ème / +33 01 48 05 44 33 / pidf.fr). Passementerie (trims, cording, and tassels) for royal families and castles. Antique collection to view.
Q: And speaking of addresses, what are some of your favorite culinary haunts in the vicinity of Drouot?
A: A lot of dealers just cross the street to one of the cafés; having a sandwich jambon-beurre at the bar helps to pass the time before the doors open again. Order a demi and you’ll hear the latest scandal or coup in the trade. It’s more pleasant here since smoking was banned. For a real meal, Chartier (rue du Faubourg-Montmartre, 9ème / +33 01 47 70 86 29 / restaurant-chartier.com) provides bistro fare in an incredible Belle Époque atmosphere. I love it from the minute I walk in. The waiters dash about in their long white aprons, torchon swung over their arm, serving up steaming French cuisine. Try the tartare de boeuf just to witness the waiter’s flair in whisking together raw hamburger, mustard, and egg. Orthodox and pied noir Jews (formerly of colonial Algeria) trade in diamonds and textiles in this part of the ninth arrondissement, so good kosher restaurants and bakeries exist down most any street east of Drouot. La Boule Rouge (1 rue de la Boule Rouge), owned by the famous pied noir singer Enrico Macias, offers typical Algerian dishes, including couscous. Watch out for the harissa, the hot chili and garlic condiment.
With fine weather, walk a block to the shopping street, rue Cadet, or continue on up the hill along rue des Martyrs, for a food lover’s paradise of shops filled with foie gras, cheese, pastries, sausages, and bread. Order takeout (à emporter) and eat in the Square d’Anvers, at avenue Trudaine, with a glorious view of Montmartre. Afterward, hoof it down the hill to 3 rue de Rochechouart and stop for Aurore Capucine’s lavender cookie. I’ll travel five thousand miles just to gorge on one. Zazou (20 rue du Faubourg-Montmartre) specializes in North African pastries. Get a tray and load it up with makroud (date-stuffed cakes), semolina and honey cake, or homemade loukoumia. Eat standing up. Mint tea is wonderful on a cold day.
La Mère de Famille (35 rue du Faubourg-Montmartre/ lameredefamille.com) is Paris’s oldest candy shop (confiserie) in its original location. The boutique’s windows change with the seasons: giant chocolate bells at Easter, candied muguet (lily) for the first of May, mushroom-shaped pâte d’amande in the fall. All beautiful and delicious! Pricey, though. The same commercial cookies can be found at the local Franprix. Only locals go to Restaurant Petrelle (34 rue Petrelle, 9ème / +33 01 42 82 11 02/ petrelle.fr). Food is bought daily at market according to the chef/owner’s whim. It’s totally magic at night and haunted mostly by actors filming in nearby studios. But there are only a few tables; you must reserve!
Q: Lastly, what do you find most rewarding about your work?
A: Welcoming the dealers from around the world, clinching the deal, la chine (the hunt, the pursuit), getting up at four a.m. to land a treasure out a truck’s back end, and just being with our family, the thousands of people that make up the puces. Also, being surrounded daily by a world of beauty—a magic one where objects from the past bring joy.

L’Atelier Brancusi

Sculptor Constantin Brancusi was originally from Bucharest, but the majority of his works were created in his Paris studio. He bequeathed his studio and all its contents to the French government on one condition: that the Centre Georges Pompidou reconstruct the studio as it had been in its original Montparnasse location. The museum brought in architect Renzo Piano, who also designed the Pompidou, et voilà: the world’s largest Brancusi collection—consisting of sculptures, drawings, tools, and more than fifteen hundred photographs—in a great, light-filled space on Piazza Beaubourg in front of the museum. It is firmly on my short list of favorites. (www.centrepompidou.fr)

Au Nom de le Rose

This mini chain of shops dedicated to roses—a favorite of mine for over a dozen years—carries bouquets and loose-cut roses in a great variety of colors as well as lots of other things having to do with the flower: candles, extrait de parfum to refresh potpourri, culinary items, soap, and rose petals—which I’ve scattered on a white tablecloth set for dinner, to great effect. There are several Paris locations (aunomdelarose.fr); it’s a great place for picking up a small bouquet for your hotel room at a good price.

B

Le Bateau-Lavoir

Poet Max Jacob gave the name Le Bateau-Lavoir to a group of artists’ studios in Montmartre, at the top of the steps leading to 13 rue Ravignan. By all accounts, the studios themselves were dark, dreary, and dirty; as to the origin of the name, accounts differ. Some have it that on stormy days the wooden planks of the studios swayed in the wind and creaked dangerously, resembling the laundresses’ boats that used to float on the Seine—this seems reasonably plausible to me. The original building, which was destroyed by fire in the 1970s, is also reported to have been either an old piano factory or a manufacturing facility of some kind. Whatever it once was, in the late 1800s and early 1900s it was home and gathering place for a veritable hit parade of artists and writers, including Maxime Maufra, Juan Gris, Modigliani, Kees van Dongen, Apollinaire, Georges Braque, Henri Matisse, André Derain, Marie Laurencin, Maurice Utrillo, Jacques Lipchitz, Cocteau, Gertrude Stein, Ambroise Vollard, Daniel-Henry Kahnweiler, and Picasso. Picasso painted one of his most legendary works here, Les Demoiselles d’Avignon (Avignon refers not to the Provençal town of Avignon, as many people assume, but to a street in Barcelona, where he lived for some years when he was younger; whether or not the women in the painting may be prostitutes I will leave to art historians.) Picasso left the Bateau-Lavoir in 1911, and by the time World War I ended, everyone had left, migrating mostly to Montparnasse. Today there is a reconstructed display of the Bateau-Lavoir in Place Émile-Goudeau; for art history buffs it’s worth stopping by while you’re in Montmartre.

BHV

Short for Bazaar de l’Hôtel de Ville, the BHV (52 rue de Rivoli, 4ème / bhv.fr) is one of Paris’s legendary department stores—see a very detailed and informative entry on les grands magasins on my blog. I reference it here not for its wares (though the basement hardware department, believe it or not, has incredibly cool stuff that you just can’t find in North America) but for its rooftop terrace, which I rarely hear anyone talk about. I found it by accident and couldn’t believe my good fortune to be sitting up there with a grand view all around and only two other people. It’s a great outdoor space to know about—it’s free, relatively quiet, and a good spot to take a break if you’ve been shopping or sightseeing in the fourth arrondissement.

Le Bonbon au Palais

I love La Mère de Famille, the most famous address in Paris for old-fashioned candies and confections, but I also love newcomer Le Bonbon au Palais (19 rue Monge, 5ème / bonbonsaupalais.fr). The shop is decorated to make you feel like you’ve stepped into a 1950s classroom, with a note to all written in chalk on the blackboard. On my last visit there, I learned: La vie est bien plus belle avec des bonbons … (Candy makes life better.) The owner has gathered the best sweets from all around France and displays them in large glass jars with lids. It is indeed a palace, filled with forgotten treasures and childhood favorites (for the French, anyway), and though it seems an obvious destination for kids, it’s hard for anyone of any age not to appreciate the whimsical and exuberant atmosphere of this unique shop.

Bon Chic, Bon Genre

This phrase translates as “good style, good class,” and is roughly equivalent to the North American word “preppy.” It’s commonly used when referring to restaurants, stores, and anywhere “les BCBGs” hang out (that’s pronounced bay-say-bay-zhay). BCBG is also the name of Max Azria’s line of clothing.

Bonjour Paris

Bonjour Paris is a terrific Web site (bonjourparis.com). It’s an outstanding resource for visitors to Paris as well as anyone who is a devoted Francophile. American expat Karen Fawcett, who’s lived in Paris since 1988, has been maintaining the site since 1995, and with each passing year it becomes more and more indispensable. May 1, 2010, marked Fawcett’s twenty-second anniversary in Paris, and as she noted in a posting that day, “After all these years, more of me is French than American.… Paris has captured my heart and part of my soul.”

Fawcett and I share not only a passion for Paris but also for the Eloise books, and for the idea that the more people are able to travel, the greater global understanding will become among people and nations. I caught up with her by telephone recently:

Q: Before moving to Paris, what had your relationship with the city been?
A: I fell in love with the Eiffel Tower when I was thirteen and in Paris on a teen tour. Years later, when my (now deceased) husband was transferred to the City of Light, at first I didn’t want to leave the States, even though his gig was only for one year, but once there I was in love all over again. Though it bears repeating that living there is an entirely different experience than visiting. But I had one hell of a time! Eighty-seven consecutive nights of house guests, not knowing three words of French, and a husband who worked sixty-five hours a week.
Q: What are some features about Bonjour Paris that you think make it different or more worthwhile than other Internet sites devoted to the city?
A: Mainly, we’re not for readers who just want to know where the Eiffel Tower is located. Bonjour Paris devotees have been there and done that. The site is known for featuring in-depth stories by good writers on Paris and other places in France, as well as for tons and tons of practical information and tips.
Q: You have been very honest in your postings about life in Paris—that it isn’t all roses and foie gras. Now that you have the benefit of years there behind you, what are some of the most important words of advice you might share with anyone thinking of moving to Paris or France?
A: I would say that both for anyone thinking of moving here and for first-time visitors, come with the idea that things will be different. Look at the buildings, try to learn even the most rudimentary history, say “Bonjour” and “Merci,” and know that not everyone speaks English. We’re guests here!
Q: What are some reasons why you feel living in Paris is rewarding?
A: I have such a feeling of safety, for one. I like being able to walk anywhere in my neighborhood and stop for a drink. And I am constantly amazed by the wonderful people I meet. I love feeling as if I am living in a global society.
Q: In a typical week or month, how do you spend your time in your quartier, and what places do you frequent?
A: No two days in Paris are the same, but I spend a lot of my life behind the computer working on Bonjour Paris. It’s my passion as well as an addiction, having spent the past fifteen years typing away and sharing my love of, and more than occasional frustration with, France. At least once a week, I try to make a pilgrimage to a neighborhood with which I’m not familiar, but a lot of my free time is limited by the weather. As much as I try to go to the Luxembourg Gardens each day, if it’s freezing cold or raining I don’t make it.
I’m desperately trying to stay away from daily pilgrimages to Kayser, the wonderful bakery that’s less than a block away from my apartment (even though I may have only one croissant on a visit, the calories gravitate to my thighs). My money is better spent at Monceau Fleurs, where you can buy moderately priced flowers, which, although ephemeral, give me pleasure. Rather than going to the gym, my exercise consists of walking and walking some more. When taking the Métro, there are invariably stairs involved, and even though I know better, I jog from one platform to another when changing trains, as if I’d have to wait an hour if I missed the next train pulling into the station. I do take taxis occasionally, when I’m very dressed up, but that’s pretty rare since Paris has become a substantially less formal city (unless it’s a three-star restaurant, men often don’t wear ties anymore).
People who live in France usually have a favorite café, and it’s more than a place to drink coffee: it’s a front-row seat to observing others and living theater. My cafés tend to change according to where there’s the most sun. And as much as some visitors assume all Parisians eat out all the time, those days aren’t frequent unless you’re made of big bucks. When I first arrived in Paris, I was horrified by the few kitchens I was allowed to see [typically, guests would not be welcome to visit the kitchen], because they looked like dungeons. The French are now into chic kitchen design—all you need to do is walk down boulevard Saint-Germain near rue du Bac in the seventh and you have your choice of one über-expensive kitchen store after another.
My main shopping venue is Ed, located at the end of my block on rue Notre-Dames-des-Champs. Initially, the store was kind of a dump where the neighborhood’s residents would pretend they didn’t see each other. The grocery store stocks its own inexpensive Dia brand and many generics that cost less than comparable items at Paris’s mainstream groceries. This doesn’t mean I don’t go to La Grande Épicerie at Bon Marché if I want special goodies to serve to my guests. And I’ve become a dévotée of Picard, a chain that sells the best frozen foods anywhere. You can order via the Internet and a delivery truck will arrive the next day. One of the joys of living in France is the availability of first-rate cheese, one of my greatest weaknesses—it’s hard to say no to a Vacherin Mont d’Or at its runniest perfection.
I’ve come to the realization that it’s okay to let a place annoy you on occasion and still know it’s an integral part of your heart and soul. At a party I went to recently I was greeted by a sea of unfamiliar faces, and people were from a great number of other countries. Everyone spoke French and English, and many people said they came to Paris on a year’s assignment and were now still here ten, twenty, even thirty years later, and had no intention of ever leaving. Sometime after midnight, I walked home, and by the time I reached my front door I realized I’d been seduced by Paris again. I will always travel, and revel in it, but I wonder whether I will ever leave—except feet first.

Bookstores

If you like visiting local bookstores when you travel as much as I do, I feel certain you’ll love these favorites of mine:

Librairie Florence Loewy (9 rue de Thorigny, 3ème / florence loewy.com). A truly unique store/gallery with books by artists.
Galignani (224 rue de Rivoli, 1er/galignani.com). The first English-language bookstore on the Continent.
La Hune (170 boulevard Saint-Germain, 6ème). For an impressive selection of art, design, film, poetry, literature, and philosophy titles.
La Librairie des Gourmets (98 rue Monge, 5ème). Wonderful store for cookbooks and culinary books of all types, as well as a great selection of posters, cards, and culinary maps of France. The shop was chosen to run the Paris chapter of Slow Food.
Librairie Gourmande (92 rue Montmartre, 2ème/librairiegour mande.fr). Also a wonderful, two-story culinary bookstore near the site of the original Les Halles food market, appropriately.
Paris et Son Patrimoine (25 rue Saint-Louis-en-l’Île, 4ème). Books (nearly all in French) about Paris neighborhoods, streets, monuments, architecture, music, and theater.
Taschen (2 rue de Buci, 6ème). Hardcover illustrated books on art, fashion, travel, design, film, etc.
Village Voice (6 rue Princesse, 6ème / villagevoicebookshop.com). An all-around terrific selection of books in English and a stellar lineup of author appearances and special events (plus a very thorough list of recommended books about Paris on its Web site).

Les Bouquinistes

I think the first time I came across the word bouquiniste was when reading Hemingway, and ever since then I’ve had a soft spot in my heart for these secondhand booksellers (sellers of bouquins) who set up shop along the banks of the Seine. Rhonda Carrier relates in In Love in France that the bouquinistes originated in the sixteenth century, a time when some of Paris’s bridges had shops and stalls along their lengths. The booksellers sold their wares from wheelbarrows until someone came up with the idea to attach trays to the sides of the bridges with leather straps. This continued until the late nineteenth century, when the bouquinistes were permitted to fasten their boxes to the quaysides on a permanent basis. Apparently there is an eight-year wait for a bouquiniste spot! Over the years I’ve bought quite a few items from bouquinistes—old stamps, postcards, paperback books, prints—though admittedly the value lay in actually purchasing them from a bouquiniste rather than owning them. I do very much love the two colored etchings I bought and had framed, and they are joined by other etchings I’ve collected on one wall in my living room.

C

Canal Saint-Martin

The Canal Saint-Martin, in the tenth arrondissement, is one of my favorite places in Paris, especially on Sunday, when many shops are closed and museums can be crowded. The canal’s construction was ordered by Napoléon in 1802 to supply Paris with a source of drinking water, to help eradicate diseases like cholera and dysentery, and to provide a shorter river traffic route through Paris rather than around it. Gaspard de Chabrol, then prefect of Paris, proposed a canal that would be four and a half kilometers long and would connect the river Ourcq to the Seine, and the project was funded by a new tax on wine. The Canal Saint-Martin was completed in 1825; in Paris it is bordered by the Quai de Valmy on one side and the Quai de Jemmapes on the other. The Hôtel du Nord—the very same from Marcel Carné’s 1938 film—is at 102 Quai de Jemmapes and is now a bar and restaurant (with a cool Web site, hoteldunord.org). Readers may remember that in the movie the character Arletty utters a classic line implying that “atmosphere” is overrated; appropriately, there is a nearby bistro, L’Atmosphère (49 rue Lucien-Sampaix), serving inexpensive plats du jour. On the Quai de Valmy, at no. 95, I’m especially fond of Antoine & Lili, the most colorful shop (think pink and fuchsia!) I’ve ever been in, which specializes in women’s and kids’ clothing and lots of cool decorative stuff (antoineetlili.com). But the best way to experience the scenic Canal Saint-Martin is to take a barge ride on it: the cruise is two and a half hours and passes through nine locks. Canauxrama (canauxrama.com) and Paris Canal (pariscanal.com) both offer cruises.

Chairs

I love the wrought-iron chairs that are set up around the fountain in the Tuileries Gardens. People move them around to their liking, usually based on where the sun is shining (or not), and I have taken dozens of photos of them. There is something incredibly attractive about their shape and decorative scrollwork, and I remain fascinated by the fact that the chairs aren’t permanently affixed to the ground (so that no one steals them) or covered with graffiti (the way they might be in many other cities). I was disappointed to learn a few years ago that the original Tuileries chairs had been replaced with far less attractive models. I have no idea why, so the photos on the facing page are for those of you who may have never known the beautiful originals.

Chèque-cadeau

A chèque-cadeau is a gift certificate, which I learned when I wanted to buy my friend Luc one as a birthday present to use at La Librairie des Gourmets. A staff member kindly taught me this phrase, and I thought an occasion might arise when you, too, would be happy to know how to ask for one.

D

E. Dehillerin

Dehillerin (pronounced DAY-luh-rhain), a family business founded in 1820, is the mother lode of stores selling materiel de cuisine (18–20 rue Coquillière, 1er / e-dehillerin.fr). If you have a passion for cooking, you have likely already read about Dehillerin and my voice will just be one more added to the chorus of those who love this store. I haven’t yet bought a copper pot or bowl from Dehillerin—its copper cookware is usually the first thing enthusiasts note—but the help I received when I was looking for a kugelhopf mold was kind and helpful (many people say the service is frosty at best). My only other purchase here was a set of pewter skewers for grilling, with decorative shells, fish, and crustaceans at their ends, but even if I never buy anything else again, I will not miss out on walking around this (rather dusty and) rambling shop. The Web site is fine for seeing the vast assortment of items available here, but nothing beats a real visit.

The only store I’m familiar with in North America that is remotely similar to Dehillerin is Bridge Kitchenware, which is also a family business, founded in 1946 by Fred Bridge. Bridge was located in Manhattan until 2008, when Steven and Kathy Bridge moved the store to New Jersey (563 Eagle Rock Avenue, Roseland / 973 287 6163 / bridgekitchenware.com) so they could be closer to their family. The store, like Dehillerin, has been a favorite for home cooks and noted chefs; there is a customer story shared on the Web site about a young woman whose grandmother “grabbed her by her arm and said buy whatever Mr. Bridge recommends, he knows his stuff and never argue with him, just nod and be quiet and hand him your money.” I think the Dehillerin family would recognize the story as being similar to many of their own.

E

Edible Idioms

A feature I love in A Food Lover’s Guide to Paris by Patricia Wells is the sprinkling of French words and phrases throughout the book that are culinary inspired but used in everyday speech. Beurré (buttered) is a colorful way to say someone’s had too much to drink, and le temps des cerises (literally “the time of cherries,” equivalent to our phrase “salad days”) is one of my favorites as well. Clotilde Dusoulier, on her blog, Chocolateandzucchini.com, calls these “edible idioms,” and she regularly adds such phrases to her site. A few she’s highlighted are tourner au vinaigre (literally “turning to vinegar,” but implying a situation or conversation that’s taking a bad turn; things going sour); etre serrés comme des sardines (being packed together like sardines, used when people are squeezed into a very small space); and ne pas manger de ce pain-là, or “not eating that kind of bread,” meaning refusing to act in a way that goes against one’s values. For each phrase, Dusoulier also gives an example in a complete sentence in French and provides a link for an audio sample; for the example for ne pas manger de ce pain-là, we have this translation: “I’d have to kowtow to the principal to get a spot for my daughter, but I don’t eat that kind of bread.” This idiom highlights two kinds of people, she notes: those who would do anything for a piece of bread and those who would rather do without than “eat bread that was acquired in a way that doesn’t sit right with their sense of ethics or morals”—and we know how the French feel about their bread. The phrase was the title of a 1936 book of poems by Benjamin Péret, a French Surrealist whose tombstone in the Batignolles cemetery bears the phrase as its epitaph. His book in its English translation is titled I Won’t Stoop to That. I just love how much you can learn from a simple phrase.

Eiffel Tower

No matter that it is one of the world’s most touristy symbols: I love la tour Eiffel. Writing in the New York Times in 1989, the year the tower turned one hundred, architecture critic Paul Goldberger aptly noted that, compared with nearly all other famous architectural icons, the Eiffel Tower is bigger than you expect: “That is the first thing that differentiates it from almost every other well-known structure in the world: no matter how many times you have stood before the Eiffel Tower, it is always at least a little bit bigger than you expect it to be.” Writing for Gourmet in 1977, Joseph Wechsberg admitted that ever since arriving in Paris some fifty years earlier he had never been up inside the Eiffel Tower until recently. Once he did go, it was an “astonishing experience—and not only for the view,” and I completely agree.

Gustave Eiffel’s other works are noteworthy as well, including the Tan An Bridge in Vietnam, the Oporto Bridge in Portugal, the Garabit Viaduct in the Massif Central, the frame of the Bon Marché department store, and the framework for Bartholdi’s Statue of Liberty—but it is of course the Tower for which he is best known. If you admire it as much as I do, I encourage you to read the chapter entitled “The Ogre of Modernity: Eiffel’s Tower” in Frederick Brown’s excellent book For the Soul of France (Knopf, 2010). The building of the tower took twenty-six months, Brown informs us, and “eighteen thousand numbered pieces” were delivered to the Champ de Mars with military precision. Yet its construction was mired in controversy. Guy de Maupassant, along with other writers and artists, signed an open letter of protest—known as the Protest of the 300—addressed to Alphonse Alphand, minister of public works, referring to the tower as “useless” and “monstrous” and declaring themselves devoted to stone. In Paris, they wrote, “stand the most noble monuments to which human genius has ever given birth. The soul of France, the creator of masterpieces, shines from this august proliferation of stone.” They criticized the tower as being “American,” and “an odious column of bolted metal.”

The details surrounding this structure are endlessly fascinating. For example, the Eiffel Tower is classified within a catégorie spéciale indicating that it is not designated as a historical monument. If you want to learn more, another good account is Eiffel’s Tower: And the World’s Fair Where Buffalo Bill Beguiled Paris, the Artists Quarreled, and Thomas Edison Became a Count by Jill Jonnes (Viking, 2009), a truly fascinating peek into the Paris Exposition of 1889 and the history of the tower, defined by Eiffel as “not Greek, not Gothic, not Renaissance, because it will be built of iron.… The one certain thing is that it will be a work of great drama.”

F

Faire le Pont

The French word pont (bridge) is also used as the equivalent of “long weekend” in English. As Bryce Corbett humorously notes in A Town Like Paris, “Through a clever melding of the Christian and Socialist calendars, the entire month of May is one long public holiday in France.” He exaggerates, though not by much. When a holiday falls on a Thursday or a Tuesday, for example, the French like to faire un pont (“make a bridge”) by also taking off on the surrounding days. This is useful to keep in mind if there is a scheduled holiday during your trip (especially in May)—if so, do not expect things to operate as usual.

Fermeture Annuelle

This phrase, meaning “annual closing,” is one you’ll see often during the month of August, when nearly every resident of Paris (or so it seems) is on holiday, either for a few weeks or the entire month. It is an important one to remember because, similar to on ponts (above), some restaurants may be closed, sites may keep different hours, some shops may be closed, and the plumber will be unavailable to fix the problem you’re having at the apartment you’ve rented. All this changes at the time of la Rentrée—the “return,” and it is often spelled with a capital R—signifying that everyone is back from vacation, school is starting, and the busy fall season has just begun.

Films

One of my favorite forms of travel immersion is to invite friends and family over for an evening of a themed dinner and a movie. It’s a great way to familiarize yourself with some of the foods you may be eating on your upcoming trip, and the movie is just icing on the cake. Potluck is especially fun for guests who enjoy the challenge of making something new or bringing an appropriate favorite, and guests who aren’t cooks can supply the wine. There is no shortage of films featuring Paris to watch after dinner. Some I particularly like include: Amélie (2001), An American in Paris (1951), Avenue Montaigne (2006), Le Ballon rouge (The Red Balloon, 1956), À Bout de souffle (Breathless, 1960), Le Dernier Métro (The Last Metro, 1980), Funny Face (1957), Gigi (1958), Hôtel du Nord (1938), The Last Time I Saw Paris (1954), Les Enfants du paradis (Children of Paradise, 1945), Paris, je t’aime (2006, and my absolute favorite!), Paris When It Sizzles (1964), and Paris la belle (Beautiful Paris, 1960). This last is an unusual documentary directed by Pierre Prévert featuring black-and-white images of Paris from 1928 with the same shots—in color—from 1959, with his brother, poet Jacques Prévert, doing the narration and song lyrics.

Fin de Série

This is a good retail phrase to know, as it’s used to refer to items that have been discounted because there are only a few left or will no longer be available (i.e., the line is being discontinued).

Flamant

Flamant Home Interiors (flamant.com), founded by brothers Alex, Geo, and Jacques, is a great store to browse in for anyone who loves the arts of the home. Its stated mission is “the revival of handicraft furniture and old objects adapted to the needs of today,” and the selection includes dinnerware, tabletop items, paints, and decorative pieces. (I am partial to its Manosque line of white dinnerware.) The Paris store is at 8 rue de Furstenberg/8 rue de l’Abbaye, in the sixth.

Flâneur

Eric Maisel, in A Writer’s Paris, defines a flâneur as “an observer who wanders the streets of a great city on a mission to notice with childlike enjoyment the smallest events and the obscurest sights he encounters.” I like that definition, but I like Bryce Corbett’s, in A Town Like Paris, even better: “The term flâneur exists only in French, describing a person who spends entire days wandering aimlessly with the express purpose of doing little more than taking in whatever he sees. A French man is never in danger of running too quickly past the roses to ever stop and smell them.” The word is uniquely French, and though I keep the word in mind here at home, it is positively Parisian.

Fluctuat Nec Mergitur

Paris’s coat of arms is a boat motif borrowed from the seal of the Watermen’s Guild, appointed by Louis IX in 1260 to administer the city. In the sixteenth century, the Latin motto Fluctuat nec mergitur—“Buffeted by the waves, we shall not sink”—was added, and it remains today. You’ll see this coat of arms around the city, carved into buildings and imprinted upon documents. To view some on the façades of buildings, log on to the creative Web site Ruavista.com and browse its selection of photographs.

France Magazine

There are very few pieces of mail that arrive in my mailbox that I am genuinely excited about, but France Magazine is one of them. This wonderful, fully illustrated quarterly—filled with a heady mix of articles covering culture, travel, timely topics, and cuisine—began publication more than twenty years ago. Under the direction of editor Karen Taylor, the magazine is published by the French-American Cultural Foundation (FACF) in Washington, D.C., whose mission is to foster cultural and educational ties between France and North America. Previously available only by subscription, France is now for sale at select Barnes & Noble, Borders, and smaller bookstores nationwide, and I highly recommend becoming a regular reader (202 944 6069 / francemagazine.org).

Le Furet-Tanrade

  

  

I first learned of this shop from Patricia Wells in her first edition of The Food Lover’s Guide to Paris, and I’ve been a loyal customer of Le Furet-Tanrade ever since (63 rue de Chabrol, 10ème / lefuret-tanrade.com). Initially, I went to the store in search of confiture de poire passée, a smooth, delicious pear concoction Wells recommended for mixing with plain yogurt. I did as she prescribed, and I was rendered speechless by how delicious it was. Later, I discovered pêche de vigne jam, and all I have to say is if you think you’ve had better peach jam anywhere in the world than this one, you are dead wrong. Still later, I discovered the shop’s orange-flower water made from the blossoms at the orangerie at Versailles, and the chocolates, which are of quite good quality. Tanrade has, according to Naomi Barry in Paris Personal, “enjoyed the reputation of being the first house in Paris for fine jams, jellies, and fruit syrups” for nearly 250 years. At the time Barry penned her book (1963), she considered Tanrade’s marrons glacés the finest in Paris. I can’t vouch for that, but I can for every single item that I’ve purchased here. Tanrade is positively vaut le détour.

H

Les Halles

In recent years, I’ve become incredibly fascinated by Les Halles, Paris’s central food marketplace until 1969. Though there was a market on the site since 1183, it is Victor Baltard’s iron and glass pavilions, constructed between 1854 and 1866, that captivate my imagination (ten original market halls were erected in the 1800s, with two reproductions added in 1936). Les Halles is pronounced lay-AHL, one of the few examples in French where liaison—the practice of pronouncing the final s in a word when the next word begins with a vowel—does not apply. (Other examples include les hors d’oeuvres, les haricots, les homards, and les hot-dogs.)

Les Halles, as Naomi Barry wrote in her 1963 Paris Personal, was “a kind of butter-and-egg Casbah, packed with history, glamour, traffic, trading, and vice.… To stroll through this brilliant, aromatic bazaar is to spin your senses until they reel with the colors and the smells of everything that grows on earth and comes up out of the sea.” There was a profusion of two-wheeled carts at the market known as diables, belonging to neighborhood grocery owners who needed fresh produce for their shops. There were also porters, known as les forts des Halles, who had had their own guild since 1140. Les forts also served as pallbearers to the kings, who, upon their deaths, were carried to the Basilica of Saint-Denis, just outside of Paris, where French monarchs have traditionally been buried. In 1461 les forts went on one of the most successful strikes in French history: halfway to Saint-Denis, they set down the casket of Charles VII and refused to go any farther until they were promised more money. Lastly, Barry tells us that the word clochards (bums) may derive from Les Halles: a bell (cloche) would be rung after the day’s trading was finished, and the clochards were the (hungry) recipients of anything left over. (Another theory about the name, Barry relates, is that clochard comes from clocher, a verb meaning “to limp” or “to bump along,” as clochards are often observed walking in a rather uneven fashion.) The streets in the vicinity of the market that still exist today were aptly named: the rue des Lombards was so named for the merchants from Genoa, Venice, and Florence who set up shop as bankers and money changers. Rue de la Ferronnerie was named for ironmongers (iron is fer), and the boulevard Poissonnière was the street used for fish (poisson) transported to the market.

In the Middle Ages, the entire Les Halles quartier was prominent as the place for starting riots, hatching plots against the government, and seeking approval of the crowd, and royal ordinances and peace treaties were first read here to the market people. Émile Zola’s 1873 novel Le Ventre de Paris (The Belly of Paris) is set in the Les Halles neighborhood, and his vivid descriptions are one of the best records we have of this extraordinary market. A more recent reminiscence is found in Saveur Cooks Authentic French, from Claude Cornut, second-generation proprietor of a market bistro, Chez Clovis: “Les Halles was a village unto itself in the very heart of Paris. We were so content and self-sufficient that we would forget that there was a world outside. Imagine the ambience of a place that is alive at least twenty hours of the day!”

But by mid-twentieth century the market’s location, which took up about forty acres, became problematic: the nighttime truck traffic was unbearable, and much of the arriving foodstuffs had to be repacked and sent out again to other parts of France and beyond. In 1969, the decision was made to move the market to Rungis, south of Paris (see Rungis entry, this page). Only one of Baltard’s pavilions survived the demolition, and it is now located in the suburb of Nogent-sur-Marne, to the east of Paris (reachable by the RER). According to Thirza Valois in the first volume of Around and About Paris, there were many people who lamented the end of the world Les Halles had created. A sculptor observed, “It was a place of bliss … the last vision of natural life in the city. It is now paradise lost,” and a social observer and poet opined, “The death of Les Halles has tolled the knell of Paris.” Fortunately, this last didn’t come to pass, though what followed the demolition was justified cause for alarm: a giant hole in the ground remained for ten years, and then in 1979 the Forum des Halles opened.

The Forum does incorporate nice pedestrian and garden areas that I am fond of, but any mention of the Forum usually refers to its underground shopping mall, which quickly became seedy (and at times unsafe) when the Châtelet–Les Halles Métro station was expanded to become the largest station in the system—the suburban lines connect with the city lines here, and it’s easy to get lost in the labyrinth of passages. Currently, plans are under way for a new glass canopy to cover the existing shopping complex, and a music conservatory, a museum, restaurants, and additional shops will be added. There will be additional garden space added as well, and the whole thing is slated to be completed in 2016.

If I rarely see any North Americans around Les Halles, I have seen even fewer at Saint-Eustache, bordering Les Halles to the north, the second-largest church in Paris after Notre-Dame and among my favorites. Built in the sixteenth century, Saint-Eustache is where Cardinal Richelieu and the Marquise de Pompadour were baptized, where Louis XIII made his first communion, where Jean-Baptiste Lully was married in 1662, and where funeral services for Molière and fable writer Jean de la Fontaine were held. In The Belly of Paris, Monsieur Claude (who is likely based at least a little on the painter Cézanne) tells Florent that he doesn’t believe it was coincidence that brought Saint-Eustache’s rosette windows in alignment with Les Halles. This is modern art confronting old art, he says: “Since the beginning of the century only one original building has been erected, only one that is not a copy from somewhere else but has sprung naturally out of the soil of our times, and that is Les Halles. Do you see it, Florent? A brilliant work that is a shy foretaste of the twentieth century. That is why it frames Saint-Eustache. There stands the church with its rosette window, empty of the faithful, while Les Halles spreads out around it, buzzing with life.” Saint-Eustache is also known for its strong musical tradition due to its outstanding acoustics, and the church has one of the most prestigious organs in Paris. According to Thirza Valois, the organ’s case was designed by Victor Baltard, and as it is “equipped with both a mechanical and an electronic transmission system, [it] is the biggest double transmission organ in the world.”

Besides the Ecoute sculpture by Henri de Miller in front of Saint-Eustache, my favorite feature of this wonderful church is the haut-relief in resin and acrylic gouache entitled The Departure of the Fruits and Vegetables from the Heart of Paris, February 28, 1969, by Raymond Mason. It is entirely fitting that this artist’s tribute to Les Halles is here, in the church that, despite its association with elite names of the past, served the working-class merchants of the market.

Baron Haussmann

Georges-Eugène Haussmann could trace his lineage back to Cologne, Germany, and Alsace, but history has made his name nearly synonymous with Paris. In fact, as David Jordan notes in his excellent Transforming Paris: The Life and Labors of Baron Haussmann, “No name is so attached to a city as is Haussmann’s to Paris. The great founders of cities in antiquity, both mythological and actual, even Alexander the Great or the Emperor Constantine, who gave their names to their creations, have not left so indelible an urban imprint.” The French (as is their wont) even created an adjective from his name, haussmannisé.

Baron Haussmann was named prefect of the Seine under Napoléon III, and the city of Paris as we know it today is the direct result of Haussmann’s plans, which included the creation of the city’s grands boulevards, the continuation of the rue de Rivoli, the redesign of the Bois de Boulogne and Les Halles, the addition of more parks, the blue and white plaques bearing street names, and apartment buildings that even today are coveted for their solid walls, good structural foundations, high ceilings, and well-lit rooms. Haussmann oversaw nothing less than the most extensive urban renewal project ever attempted. The elegance and even the sense of grandeur that Haussmann brought to Paris are undeniable, but in the mid-1800s his ideas were met with virulent criticism. In creating the boulevards, huge numbers of impoverished people were swept aside, unable to afford the new rents, and nothing was done to help them relocate elsewhere or to alleviate their conditions in the neighborhoods they were forced into, such as Belleville and Vaugirard.

In his preface to Transforming Paris, Jordan writes that initially even he had no affinity for Haussmann. “Hadn’t he destroyed Paris so the army could deploy rapidly and shoot down demonstrators? My sympathies were on the other side of the barricades that Haussmann—so the cliché ran—had made obsolete.” It’s true that Napoléon III wanted a capital city that would never again allow protesters to so successfully fight against his troops as they had during the creation of his Second Empire, which was born out of a street battle that left four thousand Parisians dead. Haussmann proposed a modern and clean city, as opposed to the medieval city Paris was, with squalid living conditions, a lack of clean water, few trees, no plumbing, and narrow, dark streets. He especially admired the Marquis de Tourny, who under Louis XV had transformed Bordeaux, where Haussmann had lived for more than twelve years (if you’ve visited Bordeaux you may fondly recall the wide and beautiful Allées de Tourny). Tourny’s Bordeaux also had some striking similarities to Haussmann’s Paris, including an opera house in the center of the city, a major river, grand public buildings inherited from the past, and an old medieval core that had been successfully integrated into the new city. But, as Jordan notes, Bordeaux was not Paris: “There was no city like Paris. The concentration of money, energy, people, and institutions, the dominance of Paris over France, was unparalleled.”

You don’t have to walk far in Paris to experience a bit of the baron, and Transforming Paris (Free Press, 1995) is a wonderful companion. It’s really a book about Paris that features Haussmann more than a biography of Haussmann. Included are many maps and photographs that excellently convey the changes Haussmann made, plus a moving epilogue about Jordan’s visit to his grave in Père-Lachaise. Haussmann’s grave is not featured on the Père-Lachaise map you can buy for a few euros at the entrance, but it’s in the avenue Principale in the fourth section. “He is prominently placed for eternity,” Jordan notes, “amid the graves of distinguished contemporaries, many now as forgotten as he. Visited, without deep emotion, by very few, he is best remembered by what he did. Take a moment to look down on Paris from the cemetery. It is the best memorial.”

Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History

Launched in 2000, the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Heilbrunn Timeline (metmuseum.org/toah) is “a chronological, geographical, and thematic exploration of the history of art from around the world, as illustrated by the Metropolitan Museum of Art’s collection.” It is nothing less than an extraordinary achievement: “an invaluable reference and research tool for students, educators, scholars, and anyone interested in the study of art history and related subjects.” A vast number of French works appear in the timeline, from the year 500 to the present (the timeline goes much further back), and I encourage readers to dip into it and get lost in it. The timeline—which is researched and written by the Met’s curators, conservators, and educators—allows visitors to compare and contrast six thousand works of art from around the globe at any time in human history.

Hollins Abroad Paris

I’m very fortunate to be a graduate of Hollins University (formerly Hollins College), a private women’s college in Virginia founded in 1842. Hollins has a fine liberal arts curriculum (Forbes recently included Hollins in the top one hundred of its America’s Best Colleges list) and renowned undergrad and graduate English and creative writing programs. Graduates of other alma maters may feel equally fortunate, but Hollins has one other attribute that most colleges and universities don’t: its study abroad program in Paris. Hollins Abroad Paris, founded in 1955, is one of the longest-established American programs in Paris. Its distinctive program was for many years located in the sixteenth arrondissement (rue Lauriston), then in the seventh (rue de l’Odéon), and is now a member of the Reid Hall campus, which it shares with nine other American schools, including Columbia University, Smith College, and Dartmouth College. I attended in 1979, and lived on the rue de Grenelle in the seventh arrondissement with a family of five that didn’t speak a word of English. Absolument, HAP is greatly responsible for who I am today as well as for the creation of The Collected Traveler.

“Letter from Paris,” a booklet written by the Hollins Abroad pioneers of 1955, perfectly conveys, in words I wish I’d written myself, the experience:

If you are a girl with a call for adventure, with curiosity, a widening scale of values, and a bit of courage, then you are the one who should go abroad. You may cry when you leave, count the days till you come home, and be a homesick pup, but you’ll never—we promise you, never—regret it or forget it. When you’re a sophomore in college and having the time of your life, we know it’s no easy thing to consider throwing it all aside for a year of who knows what; but we, the ones who went in ’55, are asking you to follow. Our year’s adventure has been invaluable; we have seen and lived an existence preciously given to very few; we have stumbled on obstacles only to turn them into stepping stones; we have fought and then praised, living, we think, the most profitable year of our lives. So join us; leave the boyfriend, family, and half the wardrobe home; take a big step and live a year that’s worth a lifetime.

Photo Credit bm1.12

One Hollins Abroader, Susan Gilbert Harvey, was inspired to pen a book weaving her own experience with that of her great-aunt, who lived in Paris in 1898. Tea With Sister Anna: A Paris Journal (Golden Apple, 2005) reveals the life Anna McNulty Lester led in Paris as an art student, which Harvey, also an artist, pieced together from letters she’d discovered in her great-aunt’s steamer trunk. In her preface, Harvey says she admired her great-aunt’s talent and tenacity, and enjoyed walking her streets in Paris, but she was surprised to find such passion in her great-aunt’s solitary life. It was a simple typed quotation she’d come across in one letter that encouraged her to investigate Aunt Anna’s sojourn and to examine her own life as an artist: “Let us hang our life on the line, as painters say, and look at it honestly.” On the final page of the book, Harvey writes, “When I first read these words, I pictured a clothesline art display. Now I know that ‘on the line’ means hung at eye level, the most prestigious position for a painting in the Salon.”

When I attended the fifty-year reunion of HAP, I met some other women who also lived in New York, and we had such a great time together that we now meet several times a year for a French-themed fête. As a group we are of varying ages and, with two exceptions, we all attended HAP in different years. But what doesn’t vary is our conviction that our time in Paris irrevocably changed our lives. For this edition I asked mes amies de New York to share some of their memories and favorite things about Paris, and they were, naturellement, only too happy to comply:

There is nothing like Paris at twilight. Enough daylight remains to allow the city’s architecture to be admired in all its glory, but the exteriors now share center stage with glowing interiors. There’s a fabulous juxtaposition of centuries-old structures and illuminated contemporary life. This contrast excites the eye—and makes the heart beat a bit faster.

—Amanda Miller, Hollins Abroad Paris, 1984; vice president and publisher, John Wiley & Sons

MY SHORT LIST OF FAVORITE THINGS TO DO IN PARIS

• Spend several hours at the Musée d’Orsay (my favorite museum in all the world).
• Have dinner at Le Grand Véfour in the Palais Royal.
• Marvel at the stained-glass windows of La Sainte-Chapelle with the sun shining in.
• Sip a café crème and people-watch at Les Deux Magots, the famous expat hangout on the Left Bank; or take afternoon tea at the century-old Angelina tearoom on rue de Rivoli.
• Stroll the Tuileries Gardens west of the Louvre.
• Have pre- or after-dinner drinks in the Hemingway Bar at the Ritz.
• Have your portrait sketched by street artists in Montmartre (and explore the neighborhood of Amélie while you’re up there).
• Wander around the Île Saint-Louis and have an ice cream at Berthillon.
• For two splendid views, climb up to the top of the Arc de Triomphe and ride the escalator to the rooftop café of the Centre Pompidou.
• Have drinks at Harry’s New York Bar (5 rue Daunou, 2ème) near the Opéra.
• Both the Musée Rodin and the Musée Marmotton are very special.
• For visitors with a sweet tooth, you can’t leave Paris without going to Ladurée (16 rue Royale, 8ème) and sampling the pastel-hued macarons—they were invented here over a century ago. My favorites are pistachio, cherry-amaretto, lily of the valley, and grenadine. With its Jules Chéret décor, this branch of Ladurée is strictly an Old World experience.
• Have a meal at the Le Jules Verne restaurant on the second étage of the Eiffel Tower—it’s open for lunch and dinner, is under the direction of Alain Ducasse, and has earned one Michelin star.
• Take in the after-dinner spectacle at the Crazy Horse cabaret on avenue George-V.

—Missy Van Buren, Hollins Abroad Paris, 1975;
former client relationship manager, IPC Systems

From a kaleidoscope of memories of a college student’s year abroad comes this one: less pleasant or inspiring or soul-searching than some, but important in its lesson about living in harmony with la vie quotidienne—everyday life—in Paris.
My roommate Amanda and I had been in Paris already for several months when we happened to bump into our elderly French hostess on the street close to where we lived with her. We were stepping into a bakery to buy a baguette, and Madame followed us into the shop while we made our purchase.
Back on the street, she turned to us in fury. “Are you always so rude to the baker?” she demanded in French. Amanda and I looked at her, and at each other, in stunned silence. We had said please and thank you. We could not imagine that we had been anywhere close to rude.
Turns out, in Paris, it is de rigueur to catch the eye of the shopkeeper upon entering an establishment and to greet them with a heartfelt Bonjour, madame/monsieur! After making your polite request and payment, it is also important to conclude the visit with Merci and Au revoir, madame/monsieur!
While this might seem like a formality to Americans, it is a small ritual that echoes throughout boulangeries, newsstands, pâtisseries, and boutiques all over the city, day after day, woven into the culture of which the French are so proud and so protective.
I’ve shared this story with countless Americans who have asked about the (supposed) rudeness of the French, and I think it helps them to appreciate a timeless exchange essential to the fabric of everyday life in Paris.

—Nicole Osborn Ash, Hollins Abroad Paris, 1984; personal coach and former vice president of marketing, American Express

In the back of the stage at the Paris Opéra is a beautiful room where cocktail parties are held after some performances. While you are sipping Champagne and munching on wonderful treats the curtain is raised and you have this spectacular view of the orchestra. Each time it gives me goose bumps!

—Frances Hershkowitz, Hollins Abroad Paris, 1962; former executive with McKinsey & Company and Ballet de Paris enthusiast

A FRENCH REMEMBRANCE

Paris was the first real city in which I ever lived and is like a second home to me, even though I have only returned to visit a handful of times in the past twenty-five years (including my honeymoon!). In 1982, my roommate and I lived with a family at 115 boulevard Saint-Germain, just steps from the Odéon Métro station and a quick jog to the Palais de Luxembourg with its beautiful jardins. While our room-and-board contract did not include lunch, our family was generous, especially on the weekends, and often included us in their Sunday dinners if we were around. Because the Vietnamese maid had Sundays off, the fare was usually something simple, such as choucroute (sauerkraut) with sausages, a spinach dish with hard-boiled eggs, or a roast chicken. One Sunday during lunch I offered to make the family a meal that was typiquement Américain the following week. I couldn’t think of anything more American than meat loaf and baked potatoes. My roommate, not being much of a cook, decided she would contribute dessert—banana splits.
The following Saturday we went to the open-air market and purchased the ingredients, which was an adventure all on its own and a rather expensive endeavor for our meager student budgets. The family’s kitchen was not exactly up to date, with a gas oven and stove that required using a lighting device to get started, a very small refrigerator, and quite cramped quarters. After almost setting the apartment on fire trying to light the stove, everything took twice as long as it would have in a normal American kitchen, especially the baked potatoes (no microwave to fall back on).
When everything was finally ready the family had been waiting for a very long time and they were hungry. I will never forget the father stabbing his baked potato with his fork, holding it upright with his left hand, and peeling the skin off with his right. So much for sour cream and chives! When dessert was served, the chocolate sauce was hard as a rock and the ice cream like soup. Needless to say, they never asked us to cook for them again!

—Judy Morrill, Hollins Abroad Paris, 1982; managing director, Highmount Capital

The Hollins Reid Hall program (hollins.edu) welcomes students from all colleges and universities, so if you know someone who might be interested, encourage him or her to explore further!

Hôtel

The word hôtel in French not only refers to a lodging but also is a general word used for many other buildings or complexes. Some common hôtels are: a private, aristocratic mansion (hôtel particulier, like the Hôtel de Sully in the Marais); a city hall (hôtel de ville, which every French town of any size has); a hospital (sometimes called a hôtel-Dieu); a general post office (hôtel de poste); an auction house (hôtel des ventes); and, in Paris, a home for wounded war veterans (the Hôtel des Invalides, founded by Louis XIV, now also a military museum).

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Interdit

The French word for “forbidden” or “prohibited,” interdit can be an annoying word, especially when it is displayed on signs on the grass of many Paris parks and gardens, justifiably among the world’s most beautiful. I used to bristle at the signs, but then I decided that a feature I really like about Paris parks is that they are part of people’s daily lives, not a place for recreation only. Parisians walk through parks and gardens every day, to and from work, to take a break, to rendezvous with friends or family. We have very few urban parks and gardens in North America that are quite the same—New York’s Central Park and Boston’s Public Garden are two that are—as we tend to think of parks as places to go just to play sports or lay down a blanket for a picnic. In Paris, you can’t separate the parks from the boulevards or avenues, and I think being prohibited from walking on the grass is a small price to pay to stroll or sit in such picturesque surroundings (and the grass is often the most perfect you’ve ever seen).

J

Jeu de Paume

Today reserved for temporary exhibitions with an emphasis on contemporary photography and video, the Jeu de Paume museum once housed the Impressionists. For many years after living in Paris as a student (when I was typically at the museum twice a week), I was able to still remember the exact placement of each painting in every room. Alas, my memory fails me a bit now, though I do remember whether a work was on the first floor or the second, on the rue de Rivoli side or the Tuileries side. It may seem pointless to mention something one can’t really experience anymore—after all, we can still see the Impressionist paintings in the Musée d’Orsay (thankfully)—but there is something very special and worth emphasizing about viewing art in a small museum.

Thinking about how compact the Jeu de Paume is reminds me of a passage from the chapter “Hunger Was Good Discipline” in Hemingway’s A Moveable Feast, in which he speaks of the small museum of his day:

There you could always go to the Luxembourg Museum and all the paintings were sharpened and clearer and more beautiful if you were belly-empty, hollow-hungry. I learned to understand Cézanne much better and to see truly how he made landscapes when I was hungry. I used to wonder if he were hungry too when he painted; but I thought possibly it was only that he had forgotten to eat. It was one of those unsound but illuminating thoughts you have when you have been sleepless or hungry. Later I thought Cézanne was probably hungry in a different way.

I was hungry often in Paris, too, but I will never forget how standing and looking in the Jeu de Paume made me feel about art, about my life, about the extraordinary place that is Paris. I mention all this to encourage visitors not to overlook Paris’s wealth of small museums—in any one of them, you may very well have your own illuminating thoughts.

Jewish History in Paris

France is home to the fourth-largest Jewish community in the world and the largest in Europe; after Catholicism, however, Islam is the second-largest religion in France. Though Jewish communities in France date back hundreds of years, France’s reputation as a terre d’asile (land of refuge) for political or economic exiles emerged during the Napoleonic Wars, when the “liberating” army attracted immigrants from Germany and Italy. France was also the first of all Western European countries to emancipate the Jews, in 1791, and many Russians who enriched Paris in the late 1800s and early 1900s were Jewish, as Nancy Green recounts in The Pletzl of Paris (Holmes & Meir, 1986); pletzl is Yiddish for “little place.” Green writes that “the mystique of France’s appeal was embedded in both the embodiment of ‘civilization’ and the enduring aura of the French Revolution.… For the Russified Jewish intelligentsia, ‘Russification’ also included a certain amount of French language and literature. French civilization, from its poets and philosophers to its culture and cuisine, had even penetrated the Pale [of Settlement].” (The Pale was an area of western provinces in Russia where Jews were confined to live, as decreed first by Catherine the Great and then definitively established under Nicholas I in 1835. The population within the Pale rose from 1 million at the beginning of the nineteenth century to approximately 5.5 million by the end.) Not even the Dreyfus Affair was seen as an obstacle: l’affaire was in fact outside the realm of understanding of Hasidic and Orthodox Jews since, in Russia, no Jew (except a few doctors) could attain such a rank as army captain. There was also a proverb that Yiddish oral tradition adopted as its own: lebn vi got in Frankraykh—to live like God in France—which dates to 1693, when King Maximilian reportedly said, “If it were possible that I were God and I had two sons, the first would succeed me as God and the second would be king of France.”

The pletzl in Green’s book refers to the Marais quarter, which has a Jewish history dating back to the thirteenth century, though not continuously. At that time, present-day rue Ferdinand-Duval was rue des Juifs (Street of the Jews); nearby rue des Écouffes (pawnbrokers) and rue des Rosiers (perhaps, Green notes, from ros, the teeth on a loom) were already known as centers of Ashkenazic Jewry in Paris. Wealthier Jews, mostly of Sephardic origin, lived in the fifth arrondissement. Today the Marais is home to the Musée d’Art et d’Histoire du Judaïsme (71 rue du Temple, 3ème / mahj.org), a really great museum housed in the beautiful Hôtel de Saint-Aignon, dating from the 1600s.

According to Lucien Lazare in Rescue as Resistance (Columbia University Press, 1996), three out of four Jews present in France in 1940 survived World War II. However, not a single deported child survived. It is particularly sad to note, as Pierre Birnbaum explains in his chapter “Grégoire, Dreyfus, Drancy, and the Rue Copernic: Jews at the Heart of French History” in Realms of Memory (volume I), that in the 1980s “various administrative and political authorities refused one after another to provide sites for statues of Captain Dreyfus, Léon Blum, and Pierre Mendès France.” At the site where once stood Paris’s Vélodrome d’Hiver, built as a bicycle racetrack but now mostly known as the site where Parisian Jews were taken before they were deported, there is now only a small plaque that is somewhat hard to find (which I can attest to, though I did manage to find it and take a photo). “This place of remembrance par excellence,” notes Birnbaum, “has simply vanished. Even worse, there is apparently no surviving photograph of the July 1942 roundup to preserve a visual record of the event.”

It’s true that, as Birnbaum maintains, “physical sites of Jewish memory in France are quite rare”; still, Paris, and many other cities and towns in France, has a number of noteworthy sites of Jewish interest. In Paris there is also the Memorial to the Deported behind Notre-Dame on Île de la Cité, as well as the Mémorial de la Shoah (17 rue Geoffroy-l’Asnier, 4ème / memorialdelashoah.org). Two books to consult are The Complete Jewish Guide to France by Toni Kamins (St. Martin’s, 2001) and A Travel Guide to Jewish Europe by Ben Frank (Pelican, 2001, third edition). Both books devote large sections to Paris, and the authors note that visitors who keep kosher need not worry about where to take their next meal: there may be more kosher places to eat in Paris than in New York, Chicago, and Los Angeles combined! Additionally, the French Government Tourist Office publishes “FranceGuide for the Jewish Traveler,” which can be accessed at Franceguide.com.

Just Campagne

This partially English-named shop (campagne means “countryside”) is actually very French, founded in the South of France in 1990 by Azzedine Berkouk, who designs women’s handbags. Berkouk’s line of what I refer to as “regular” leather bags are perfectly fine and nicely crafted, but it’s the open-weave leather bags with interchangeable linings that are truly distinctive. The leather is available in only two shades, but the linings, in cotton, linen, and wool, come in a variety of colors, and the price is dependent upon which lining you choose, wool being the most expensive. All Just Campagne bags are hand finished in Toulouse and each has its own serial number. Stores in Paris are at 159 boulevard Saint-Germain, 6ème, and 14 rue des Pyramides, 1er (just campagne.com).

L

Language

Everyone will tell you that it is essential to attempt to speak some French when in Paris. This is true—the French warm to anyone attempting to speak their beautiful language—yet it is also true that the natives of any country love it when visitors try to speak their language. What you might not realize is that French is still in many ways a universal language. It has been my experience that someone always speaks French, even in such seemingly unlikely countries as Egypt, Portugal, Turkey, Greece, and Croatia. Spanish may be the second language in the United States, but it won’t serve you very well outside of Latin America, Spain, and the Philippines.

With this in mind, I wasn’t surprised to learn, in Jean-Benoît Nadeau and Julie Barlow’s excellent and fascinating The Story of French (St. Martin’s, 2006), that though in terms of numbers of speakers French ranks only ninth in the world, French is flourishing. Of the six thousand languages now spoken on earth, French is one of only fifteen spoken by more than a hundred million people; it is one of eleven other languages that are the official language in more than one country, and among these, only four—English, French, Spanish, and Arabic—have official status in more than twenty countries (French, with thirty-three countries, ranks second to English, with forty-five). Two G8 countries, France and Canada, are French-speaking, as are four European Union members: France, Belgium, Luxembourg, and Switzerland. And French, along with English, is one of the two primary languages of the UN. Nadeau and Barlow also inform us that French “is the number two second-language choice of students across the planet, attracting learners as far away as Lesotho and Azerbaijan.” And finally: “There have never been as many French speakers in the world as there are today: The number has tripled since the Second World War.”

Nadeau and Barlow share their surprise at discovering, on a trip to Tel Aviv, that the first language they heard when they stepped out of their hotel was French. They were surprised because most Israelis speak Hebrew and English, and they figured it would be difficult for a third language to emerge among them. But what they learned was that 10 percent of Israelis speak French, including the large Moroccan population there, and that there are French-speaking communities in many more places than Tel Aviv. This solidified an impression that grew as they worked on their book: “that French is more resilient than people generally believe” and that “it has an enduring hold on the world, a level of influence that in many ways surpasses—and is even independent of—France’s.”

M

Macarons

The French macaron is distinct from other similarly named sweets, notably the American macaroon, coconut blobs sometimes dipped in chocolate. I once loved American macaroons, but some years ago I decided they were too sweet and, after trying French macarons, too limiting in flavor. French macarons are made with a large quantity of egg whites and are therefore very light, and they are a sandwich cookie—unlike a giant blob—with a flavored filling. Many people rave about the macarons at Ladurée, the pâtisserie credited with having invented them, but I think the macarons are substantially better at La Maison du Chocolat, Pierre Hermé, and Gérard Mulot—and, of late, at my own home.

Before I was in possession of I Love Macarons by Hisako Ogita (Chronicle, 2009), the recipe I used was from an old issue of Gourmet attributed to Mireille Guiliano, author of French Women Don’t Get Fat. The recipe is a good one, but required the assistance of my daughter to hold down the parchment paper on the pan so I could pipe the batter out of my pastry bag. Ogita explains so much more about the making of macarons—what can go wrong with the batter, how to make them with Italian meringue, how to add flavor to the batter, etc.—that I can’t imagine I’ll ever look back. It really helps that there are photographs, and I was happy to learn I can use my Silpat baking mat instead of rolled parchment paper! Plus Ogita is thoughtful enough to provide six recipes at the end of the book to use up all the egg yolks you’ll have left over from making the macarons.

Maille

Boutique Maille, at 6 place de la Madeleine in the eighth arrondissement (maille.com), is the Burgundy mustard company’s official representative in Paris, and it’s a good culinary stop to add to your itinerary. Founded in 1747, Maille is now owned by the mega-conglomerate Unilever, a far cry from the day in 1769 when Antoine Maille was named official vinaigrier-distillateur for the royal court of France. The reason to come here is not for the ordinary jars of mustard and condiments, which can reliably be found throughout North America, but for the freshly pumped mustards on the central counter, which come in attractive stoneware containers in three sizes. Three different mustards are offered daily, all of which are more potent than the Maille mustards imported in the States. The staff pumps your mustard choices into the jars and seals them with lids made of coated paper and cork. (Don’t worry: these will make it through your flight home just fine if placed upright in your carry-on luggage.) You can also purchase small wooden mustard spoons and some nice gift arrangements with mustards in painted faïence jars.

Photo Credit bm1.17

La Maison Ivre

Fans of Rimbaud will recognize the pun on his poem “Le Bateau Ivre” (The Drunken Boat) embedded in the name of this charming and hugely appealing shop, La Maison Ivre, founded by Sylvine Nobécourt in 1991 (38 rue Jacob, 6ème/maison-ivre.com). As Sylvine, who has a great sense of humor, tells it, she studied French literature at university and loved it, but didn’t know exactly what she wanted to do with it upon graduation. She’s not even sure she can pinpoint the day she came up with the idea for a store, but she does know that since the “great adventure began, I became entirely devoted to the store. In fact it is La Maison Ivre that has chosen me.” She likes the association between literature and her shop, devoted to “a symphony of colors to brighten your home,” and indeed the shop is filled with irresistible items. Here you’ll find torchons (tea towels) in more than fifty patterns, aprons, coasters and trivets (including some with the store’s logo), poterie artisanale—the store is a veritable showcase for handcrafted ceramics from several regions of France—and one-of-a-kind items like lavender wands. Sylvine’s wands are made by a woman in Provence who is one of the few people making them at all these days, and they are prettier and larger than others I’ve seen. I’ve loved these wands since I bought my first one thirteen years ago in the Provençal town of Vaison-la-Romaine—I remember it well because I was pregnant with my daughter at the time—and I intend to continue depleting Sylvine’s stock. Sylvine’s English is very good, and she loves nothing better than telling the stories behind all the items in her shop.

Metal Pointu’s Bijoux

Founded in the 1990s in Paris, Metal Pointu’s (“edgy metal”) is a jewelry line created by designer and artist Bernard Bouhnik. I first learned of it when my good friend Lorraine gave me a Metal Pointu’s bracelet for my birthday, and I absolutely flipped over it. With a number of boutiques in Paris (all the locations are on the Web site, metal-pointus.com), it’s easy enough to stop into one and see if the bijoux line is your thing. Bouhnik works in tin, silver, and bronze, and some pieces also include colored beads and crystals; his works are bold and decidedly not overly feminine. Bouhnik’s sister and partner, Sylvie Buchler, has described the collection—which includes neck pieces, earrings, bracelets, cuffs, and rings—as “definitely for a woman who is not shy,” and she explains Bouhnik is inspired by “architecture, urbanism, and engineering.” Some of Bouhnik’s pieces are in museum collections, including the jewelry collection at Boston’s Museum of Fine Arts. I am also drawn to the packaging: each piece comes in its own fabric sac with the Metal Pointu’s logo stitched onto it, which is slipped into a black deckle-edged box tied at the top with a white ribbon.

  

  

I wore the bracelet Lorraine gave me almost every day for three years, until the day the elastic finally gave out. I was crushed, but I figured I would bring it with me on my next trip to Paris and see if it could be repaired. I was so happy to discover soon after that Metal Pointu’s has opened a boutique in New York! I made a beeline to the shop (252 Elizabeth Street/646 454 1539), and Sylvie, who is overseeing the Soho outpost, had the bracelet restrung. I’m wearing it almost every day again.

Le Métropolitain

“Because it is so easy to understand,” Franz Kafka wrote, “the Métro is a frail and hopeful stranger’s best chance to think that he has quickly and correctly, at the first attempt, penetrated the essence of Paris.” Mastering the Métro, which turned one hundred years old in 2000, does give one a sense of truly belonging to Paris. While it may be over a century old, Paris’s system is elegant and (strike days aside) very efficient, and it is in a state of constant renewal. In addition to new tramways ringing the city, the newest line, 14, is one example: the Météor (MÉTro Est-Ouest Rapide), which debuted in 1998, runs from the Gare Saint-Lazare in the eighth to Olympiades in the thirteenth and is completely computer operated. It makes the trip rapidement and tranquillement, and there are no doors between cars, so you can see from car to car, end to end. There are a number of Métro ticket options available to visitors, so be sure to consider them all before you purchase one.

If, like me, you are fond of the original cast-iron Art Nouveau Métropolitain entrances—when I am feeling homesick for Paris, I’m so glad I can walk just a few blocks to MoMA in New York to see the Hector Guimard entrance in the museum’s sculpture garden—and want to learn a little more about this famous subway system, you’ll love these two books: Paris Underground: The Maps, Stations, and Design of the Métro by Mark Ovenden (Penguin, 2009) and Métro Stop Paris: An Underground History of the City of Light by Gregor Dallas (Walker, 2008). Paris Underground is like a love letter to the Métro, with positively everything you’d want to know about the Métro’s graphic history at your fingertips: black-and-white photographs of the original stations, maps, illustrations, reproductions of posters, the creation of the RER lines and the Météor, signage and logos, and a directory of designers. This is the kind of book you can dip into and out of at random, each time discovering some interesting bit of Métro trivia.

Métro Stop Paris is one of my absolute favorite books about Paris, a history of the city via the Métro. Dallas informs us that the underground train service came to Paris in 1900, after London (in the 1860s) and New York (whose elevated rapid transit service dates from 1870). But the idea of a railway system linking the city’s quartiers dates back to 1845, when it was proposed to link the Gare de Lyon to the Gare du Nord. The Universal Exposition of 1900 was the event that propelled the creation of underground trains driven by “electric traction.” Though today there are some fifteen subway lines and almost three hundred stations in Paris’s Métro system (not counting the RER commuter rail), Dallas focuses on just five lines and twelve stations to take readers to certain key spots “where we will observe a building, a street, a statue, a tombstone or some other landmark that will spark off a story that tells us a lot about the character of the city.” Dallas advises, “As you emerge from each Métro stop, look up those alleys, stare into those old shops, pass your hands over the stones in front of you” so that “you will discover what Parisians call … the ‘genius’ of their civilization.”

Métro, Boulot, Dodo

This phrase translates as “Métro, work, sleep” and refers to the daily routine—le train-train—of urban dwellers in France. In recent years it has morphed into Vélo, boulot, dodo, the vélo referring to a bike, especially with the addition of Paris’s public bicycle share program, Vélib.

Musée Carnavalet

The Musée Carnavalet (23 rue de Sévigné, 3ème) is the museum I recommend to visitors above all others, and I also suggest that it be the first museum you visit, as it is the museum of the history of Paris. The museum today consists of two homes, the Hôtel Carnavalet and the Hôtel Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, which were joined in 1989. The Carnavalet is one of the most beautiful houses in the Marais and is a rare example of a Renaissance mansion still standing in Paris. It was originally built for Jacques des Ligneris, a president of the Paris parliament in the 1500s, but is better known as the home of Marie de Rabutin-Chantal, Marquise de Sévigné, who lived there from 1677 to her death in 1696. The Peletier de Saint-Fargeau mansion was built in 1688 for Michel Le Peletier de Saint-Fargeau, state counselor and financial administrator.

  

  

Among the many remarkable items in the museum’s permanent collection are medieval shop signs; a model of Paris showing the bridges over the Seine, which in medieval times had houses and buildings on them; furniture from the family of Jacqueline Bouvier; paintings, drawings, and ephemera relating to the French Revolution and the July Monarchy; photographs by Eugène Atget and Henri Cartier-Bresson; the ballroom of the Hôtel de Wendel, painted by José-Maria Sert and dating from 1924; the room, with original furniture, where Marcel Proust wrote In Search of Lost Time; and paintings by Paul Signac, Albert Marquet, and Maurice Utrillo. The garden of the Hôtel Carnavalet is also beautiful. I recommend buying a general guide to the museum in the bookstore before you begin your visit, as interpretive text in English is limited.

Musée Marmottan

The Musée Marmottan (2 rue Louis Boilly, 16ème / marmottan.com) has long been among my favorite Paris museums. The building itself was once a hunting lodge for Christophe Edmond Kellerman, the duke of Valmy, who sold it a few years later to Jules Marmottan, a nineteenth-century industrialist. Upon Marmottan’s death, he bequeathed the home to his son Paul, who initially devoted himself to collecting artworks of the Napoleonic era. When Paul died, he bequeathed the home to the Académie des Beaux-Arts, and the museum opened its doors in 1934. In addition to a superb collection of illuminations donated by Daniel Wildenstein (son of noted gallery owner Georges), and another exceptional donation of Berthe Morisot works by Denis and Annie Rouart (Denis was the grandson of Berthe Morisot and Eugène Manet), the Marmottan owns the largest collection of Claude Monet’s work in the world. Among its many Monets is Impression, Sunrise, first exhibited in Paris in 1874 and considered the work that gave the name to Impressionism—a critic referred to the painting as “impressionistic” and soon after works by Degas, Pissarro, and Renoir were similarly described. This along with eight other Impressionist paintings were stolen from the Marmottan in 1987—a theft then valued at nearly twenty million dollars—but in December 1990 they were recovered in Corsica and returned. In addition to Monet canvases, the Marmottan also has one of Monet’s palettes.

Since I first began visiting as a student, the museum has been enlarged and now also hosts temporary exhibits. Though it is receiving visitors in greater numbers, I still don’t often see many North Americans here, and I urge readers to make time for this museum gem.

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Nota Bene

Some readers may already subscribe to Nota Bene, a quarterly publication founded in 2001 dedicated to independently, impartially, and exactingly reviewing the world’s finest destinations. It’s aptly named, as the reviews are brutally, ruthlessly honest, and founder and chairman Anthony Lassman is keenly aware that many hotels, for example, command extremely high sums for service that seldom matches the price. Nota Bene offers three services: the Review (ten guides published per year, focusing on hotels, food, nightlife, and travel tips), Pulse (devoted to shopping, fashion, lifestyle, and well-being), and Bespoke (tailored travel management service for members). Plus it offers a full-service Web site (notabenetravel.com). When the Nota Bene folks rave about something, you can be assured it will not disappoint. But their expertise comes at a price: upward of several hundreds of British pounds per year. Register for white, black, or platinum membership online.

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Oberkampf

The rue Oberkampf, in the eleventh arrondissement, has been hip for about a dozen years or so, and I very much enjoy walking along it and the streets nearby, stopping for some inexpensive international cuisine and poking into refreshingly different shops. I suspect many people don’t know, however, that the street is named after Christophe-Philippe Oberkampf, a German-born textile entrepreneur honored as a royal manufacturer by Louis XVI. Oberkampf created the fabric known as toile de Jouy, cotton or linen decorated with scenic French patterns and printed in one color on a light ground. His designs were originally printed from woodblocks, though by 1770 copperplates were used; and he set up shop in Jouy-en-Josas, near Versailles on the river Bièvre. Fans of toile de Jouy may want to visit the museum there (54 rue Charles de Gaulle, Jouy-en-Josas / museedelatoiledejouy.fr).

Olivier Pitou

There are a number of notable flower shops in Paris, but Olivier Pitou (14 rue des Saints-Pères, 7ème) is my new favorite. Fleuriste Pitou is a narrow shop absolutely jammed with magnificent flowers, potted plants, garden specialty items, and statuary—it’s more like a mini jungle than a shop. Pitou also has a terrific épicerie directly across the street, at no. 23, with prepared foods, olive oils and vinegars, wines, cheese, pâté, and bread; if you’ve forgotten a tire-bouchon (corkscrew), they’ll kindly open the bottles for you.

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Papier Plus

I’m a nut for fine papers and journals, and my favorite paper haunt in Paris is Papier Plus (9 rue du Pont-Louis-Philippe, 4ème / papierplus.com), which has been around since 1976. It stocks notebooks, binders, stationery, photo albums, boxes, and portfolios by French craftsmen. The notebooks come in a range of sizes and formats, and every year they’re offered in a range of new colors. I especially like the photo albums, which feature a cut out circular window on the cover, perfect for your best photo of the City of Light.

Pariscope

I just love Pariscope (pariscope.fr), the weekly publication detailing everything happening in the city and appearing every Wednesday. Its small size—about five by seven inches—is compact enough that you can carry it around in just about any size handbag or satchel. Even though it’s in French, you can easily read the listings, and it’s great for double-checking current opening and closing times of museums, sites, and shows you want to see. (I usually try and pick one up at the airport before I even arrive in the city.) Pariscope’s competitor is L’Officiel des spectacles (offi.fr), which is also useful, but it’s not as branché (trendy) as Pariscope.

Père-Lachaise

The reason for my first visit to the Père-Lachaise cemetery was no different from that of many other American college students: to see Jim Morrison’s grave. I owned only one album by the Doors (The Soft Parade), so I didn’t even consider myself a proper fan, but it seemed like the thing to do—and anyway, the wine that was offered to me by a group gathered there was better than the plonk I bought at Félix Potin. Only later did I learn that so many other famous people were interred here, and that, taken together, they represented a broad cross section of French personalities. But Père-Lachaise, one of the world’s largest cemeteries, is even more than that, as Alistair Horne notes in Seven Ages of Paris: “It contains probably more of France’s past than any other forty-four hectares of her soil.… In it resides a whole history of Paris, indeed of France herself, in marble and stone.” Catharine Reynolds, writing in Gourmet, observed that the cemetery “evokes civilisation française—for citizen and foreigner alike.” Whenever I recommend Père-Lachaise to visitors, they always thank me, reporting that it was the surprise of their trip, and some say it was their favorite site in all of Paris.

In addition to the many famous names of the deceased—you’ll find them all (except for Baron Haussmann; see this page) on the map you can buy at the entrance—within Père-Lachaise are a few other spots of note. The Mur des Fédérés is a wall in the eastern corner where 147 Communards were lined up and shot during La Commune. The monuments honoring the victims of Nazi persecution are the most moving memorials I’ve ever seen, anywhere (my friend Sarah and I came across one that was simply footprints leading into a large, dark stone structure, and we were reduced to tears). There’s also the tombstone of Victor Noir. I first saw a photo of Noir’s unusual grave in John Berger’s Keeping a Rendezvous, and I was so intrigued I had to go and take a look at it myself. The story goes that in 1879 Prince Pierre Bonaparte, cousin to Napoléon III, wrote an article in a reactionary Corsican journal that criticized La Revanche, a radical Paris newspaper. The editor of La Revanche sent Noir and another journalist to Corsica to seek an apology, but Prince Bonaparte shot Noir instead. The grave portrays Noir, just twenty-two, dead on the ground moments after he was shot. (As an aside, the groin area of the bronze work is a little enlarged, and has received an abundance of indecent rubbing by female visitors.)

In recommending Père-Lachaise (boulevard de Ménilmontant and avenue Gambetta, 20ème / pere-lachaise.com) so highly, I do not mean to slight Paris’s two other famous cemeteries, Montmartre (avenue Rachel, 18ème) and Montparnasse (boulevard Edgar-Quinet, 14ème), each worthy of a detour as well. Among those buried at Montmartre are Degas, Jacques Offenbach, Vaslav Nijinsky, François Truffaut, and Stendhal, and within the grounds of Montparnasse are Brancusi, Baudelaire, Brassaï, Jean Seberg, Sartre, and Simone de Beauvoir. Readers who want to discover more will be happy to have a copy of Permanent Parisians: An Illustrated, Biographical Guide to the Cemeteries of Paris by Judi Culbertson and Tom Randall (Walker, 1996). This is a fascinating read, even if you don’t have any desire to walk among tombstones; in addition to the three big cemeteries it also includes Les Invalides, the Panthéon, Saint-Denis, and others.

Point Zéro

The point zéro milestone set in the parvis of Notre-Dame is the point from which all distances in France are measured. Legend has it that if you stand on the point zéro plaque, your return to Paris is assured. I’ve never wanted to take any chances about that, so I try to make sure at least one of my feet touches the plaque on every visit.

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Rez-de-chaussée

Remember that in France the rez-de-chaussée refers to the floor at street level, while the first floor—premier étage—is the equivalent of our second floor.

Romance

Paris is likely the most romantic city in the world. And you don’t have to be in love, have a partner, or feel a certain way about a certain someone to know this indisputable fact. A walk along the Seine at night, when all of Paris’s bridges and monuments are lit, a stroll across the Pont des Arts, a respite on a bench in the Tuileries, dinner at the Jules Verne, or merely a glance at Robert Doisneau’s famous photograph Le Baiser de l’Hôtel de Ville is proof enough that Paris is synonymous with l’amour.

If you’d like to plan an especially romantic trip to Paris, with or without a companion, a book you must have is Romantic Paris by Thirza Vallois (Interlink, 2003). Vallois, also the author of the indispensable Around and About Paris series (see this page), here outlines a love history of Paris in addition to providing great tips for a three-day romantic itinerary, restaurants and salons de thé, stores for the heart and senses, cozy museums, sentimental walks, and recommended nightspots. Most importantly, Vallois reminds us that “we come to Paris as to a stage on which to enact an episode of our love life, but before we know it we are caught under the spell and find out, to our astonishment, that it is Paris herself that has gotten under our skin, the one love that has no rival and that even time will never erode. It was when I realized that Paris was my one source of inspiration, the object, in turn, of both my celebration and desecration, that I understood that Paris herself is a tale of passion, full of turmoil and fury and dazzling charm, the very essence of romance.”

One very wonderful romantic site not featured in Vallois’s book is the Mur des Je T’aime (Wall of I Love Yous). The wall was created by Frédéric Baron, who first collected the phrase “I love you” a thousand times in more than three hundred languages in three large notebooks. Baron and Claire Kito, an artist who practices Oriental calligraphy, collaborated on the idea of a wall, and another artist, Daniel Boulogne, specializing in murals, helped to bring it to completion. The wall, ten meters wide, is composed of 612 tiles of enameled lava whose shapes are meant to symbolize the sheets of paper in Baron’s notebooks. The splashes of color on the wall are “the pieces of a broken heart, those of a humanity which is too often torn apart and which the wall attempts to reunite.” The mur is really very cool and very touching, and it’s free. Just take the Métro to Abbesses, and the wall is right there in the Square Jehan-Rictus on Place des Abbesses (if that sounds confusing, it’s not—you can’t miss it).

For the record, some other spots I think are particularly romantic in Paris include the Place de Furstenberg, the little recessed seats on the Pont Neuf, the wall in the little park at the tip of Île Saint-Louis, and the Square du Vert-Galant.

In Love in France
It’s hard for me to believe that anyone, a romantic or not, would not fall head over heels for In Love in France: A Traveler’s Guide to the Most Romantic Destinations in the Land of Amour by Rhonda Carrier (Universe, 2010). I love this book, which is, naturellement, mostly devoted to Paris—“Paris loves lovers,” as Cole Porter knew and Carrier quotes on the opening page. Carrier knows France intimately, as she has lived in and traveled around the country since she was a teenager. Other chapters cover the Loire Valley, Champagne, Normandy and Brittany, and southern France; there are also chapters on “Love and Food” (“Food, like love, can change your life,” she says) and on getting married in France. I consider this book essential, as it is jammed with coups de coeur—her passions, places she fell instantly in love with—even as Carrier wisely notes, “Paris is also oversubscribed, and thus I’ve tried to point you in the direction of some of its lesser-known treasures.”

La Ruche

The word ruche means “beehive” in French, and in Paris the word refers to the famous honeycomb-shaped structure housing studios for such artists as Fernand Léger, Jacques Lipchitz, Ossip Zadkine, Alexander Archipenko, Marc Chagall, Moïse Kisling, Chaïm Soutine, and Amedeo Modigliani. Academic sculptor Alfred Boucher created La Ruche just after the 1900 World’s Fair. He bought a plot of land in the fifteenth arrondissement from the owner of a bistro, Le Dantzig, that was then sandwiched between the Vaugirard slaughterhouse and an area of slums called la zone. Boucher had a vision, however; he planted trees and flowers and bought Gustave Eiffel’s octagonal wine pavilion that was left over from the World’s Fair. (This was, according to Thirza Vallois, common practice at the time; other artist quarters in Paris are still made up of such pavilions.) Boucher planned to rent each octagonal side of the pavilion as a studio—yet he was also a philanthropist, known to overlook the unpaid rents of his extremely poor tenants. La Ruche provided a roof over the heads of struggling artists, but it was only marginally better than the hovels in Montparnasse, where the “better off” artists lived.

La Ruche almost met its end in the late sixties, when the heirs of Boucher intended to sell it to the French housing authority. President Pompidou stepped in to save it from destruction, with a chorus of supporters including André Malraux and even parties in the United States. Today there are only twenty-three honeycombs in the pavilion, as opposed to the original eighty, and while visitors are permitted only in the surrounding garden (unless you happen to know one of the painters or sculptors who live inside), it is nevertheless a site worth visiting, to spend a few moments reflecting upon the artistic fervor and spontaneity that existed within. Vallois’s Around and About Paris (volume III) provides the best summary of La Ruche.

Rue Louise-Weiss

This street, and neighboring rue du Chevaleret and rue Duchefdelaville, in the thirteenth arrondissement, form a new art gallery center in Paris. Every month or so, the galleries here host an open house, which is a great and fun way to see what’s happening in the contemporary avant-garde art scene. All the galleries are located at numbers five to eleven and twenty to thirty-four on rue Louise-Weiss, and are open Tuesday to Saturday from eleven to seven (Métro: Chevaleret).

Rungis

Rungis, located seven kilometers outside of Paris near the Orly airport, succeeded Les Halles as Paris’s wholesale food market starting in 1969. Rungis (the final s is pronounced, by the way) is the world’s largest wholesale food market, an ultramodern, extremely hygienic facility, about as opposite from Les Halles as possible, and it is extremely interesting to visit. Visite Rungis (visiterungis.com) organizes visits, mostly for groups, but individuals may visit during a specified day each month. A better alternative, I feel, is to arrange a private visit with Canadian expat Stephanie Curtis ([email protected]), who gives tours for two to twenty people, 120 euros per person, including breakfast, round-trip transportation, and visits to about seven pavilions. I arranged a visit with Stephanie for a group of my friends and we all agreed it was a really special experience. Curtis arranges to pick you up from your hotel between four and five in the morning so that you arrive at Rungis when the most activity is occurring. After a stop at a café, you set out for the pavilions—we saw those devoted to seafood, poultry, meat, cheese, and produce. (Tip: Some of the pavilions are necessarily kept quite cold, so even if it’s hot outside, bring a sweater or jacket.) Approximately five or six hours later most of the vendors are finished for the day. Though you’re technically not permitted to purchase anything at Rungis, Curtis will take you to one store on the premises where you can buy some items; the selection is limited to packaged provisions, but I bought fleur de sel, chocolate, and dried mushrooms at prices far below what I would have paid in the States.

The Russian Connection

The Alexandre III bridge over the Seine isn’t the only symbol of a very old friendship between Russia and France, but it’s the most visible. The bridge was named after Czar Alexander III and was built in time for the Universal Exposition in 1900, and for many years it was my favorite Seine bridge. French was the second language spoken by the nobility in Russia, and in the late 1800s and early 1900s Paris was filled with Russian émigrés. Nina Berberova’s The Tattered Cloak and Other Novels (Knopf, 1991) is a work of six short novels all set in Paris and peopled with Russian émigrés. Berberova, who passed away in 1993, wrote these stories of a “wistful, shabby-genteel society that a generation of Russians created in Parisian exile” which were first published in Europe in the 1930s. I think The Tattered Cloak deserves to be better known, and it includes one of the most memorable passages I’ve ever read about the city: “Paris, Paris. There is something silken and elegant about that word, something carefree, something made for a dance, something brilliant and festive like Champagne. Everything there is beautiful, gay, and a little drunk, and festooned with lace. A petticoat rustles at every step; there’s a ringing in your ears and a flashing in your eyes at the mention of that name. I’m going to Paris. We’ve come to Paris.”

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Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre

When I lived in Paris as a student, I decided that my favorite park in the city was the one next to Église Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, in the Latin Quarter. This was not because the park was particularly pretty—it isn’t—or because the oldest tree in Paris, a false acacia, has reportedly grown there since 1601 (it was planted by Jean Robin, thus the name of the tree is le robinier). Rather, I chose this little park—more properly known as Square René-Viviani—because I was sure it was the one Joni Mitchell sang about in her song “California” on the album Blue (“Sittin’ in a park in Paris, France …”). The reason I was so sure was because I went to every jardin and park in Paris and I sat in each one until I determined she could not possibly have been referring to any other park. (I really did this, by carefully perusing my plan de Paris, and I can honestly report that I dutifully visited nearly every park in the city. I have not been referred to as compulsive for nothing!) I have no verification that this little park is the one Mitchell sings about, but I’m still certain of it, and though I’ve since come to prefer other parks in Paris, I’ll always be fond of this one. The Église Saint-Julien-le-Pauvre, which was built on the foundations of a sixth-century church, is among the oldest in Paris and serves the Melchite (Arab and Near Eastern) sect of the Greek Orthodox Church. Don’t miss visiting the interior, which is dimly lit, very atmospheric, and features gorgeous icons (and it smells really old).

Scent

The French—like the Italians, Greeks, and Spaniards, among others—are very attuned to scent, as am I. Each scent I encounter—of a room, a food, a person, a locale—becomes a memory-smell and forever associated with a place. Sometimes the scent is obvious, like the time I drove through Boise, Idaho, at approximately four in the morning in the summer with all the car windows open and I got a huge whiff of potatoes (what else?). Other times, the scent is surprising, like the time I was fortunate enough to have lunch at the former Bouley restaurant in New York. Upon entering, diners were greeted by a small wheelbarrow filled with apples—and though the meal itself was amazing, it is the smell of those fall apples ripening in the foyer that has stayed with me all these years. Every time I open one of my kitchen cabinets and smell the whole cardamom pods I have in a container, my memory-smell is of the Indian sweet shops I frequented in Mombasa and on the island of Lamu in Kenya; when I come across herbs growing wild, my first thought is of Corsica—one of my favorite places on earth—and its maquis, a unique combination of numerous herbs including juniper, myrtle, lavender, and mint (it’s so distinctive that Napoléon allegedly said he would recognize it if he were out at sea with his eyes blindfolded).

Marcel Proust and the madeleine aside, the French make a commendable effort to ensure that their homes, shops, and workplaces smell pleasing. Scent is one of the easiest ways to bring an element of “Frenchness” into your home and, simultaneously, create a sense of well-being. Barbara Milo Ohrbach, in her wonderful and bestselling book The Scented Room, notes that she has made it a habit to buy flowers from a market or corner kiosk when she travels so she can make her hotel room feel and smell more like home (a habit I endorse!). Pico Iyer writes in Condé Nast Traveler (“Scents of Place,” May 2010) that when he opens the cabinet above his bathroom sink, “all the perfumes of Araby—and Bangkok and Addis Ababa and Paris—come flooding out.… Ever since I began staying in the kind of hotel that offers high-end toiletries more than a quarter of a century ago, I’ve been unable to contain myself.” Gretchen Rubin, in her wonderful book The Happiness Project (HarperCollins, 2009), noticed one day that “though I sometimes mocked the scented-candle-pushing brand of happiness, I discovered that there is something nice about working in an office with a candle burning.” I, too, can testify to the effect something as simple as a candle can have on my mood, my happiness, and my level of motivation. Additionally, potpourri, lavender sachets, bowls of quince, dried rose petals, room fragrance sprays and diffusers, and ceramic lamp rings are all great mood pickups. (For particularly alluring room fragrances, check out Florence, Italy–based Antica Farmacista, anticafarmacista.com.)

Some of these can be made at home, and two good resources include The Scented Home: Natural Recipes in the French Tradition by Laura Fronty (Universe, 2002) and The Scented Room by Barbara Milo Ohrbach (Clarkson Potter, 1990). Some scents, of course, simply can’t be replicated back home, like that of Gauloises or Gitanes cigarettes, the smell of very old churches like Saint-Germain-des-Prés, and some Métro stations, which is good: some scents don’t travel, so attached are they to a certain place.

I became even more fascinated by the way things smell after I read The Emperor of Scent: A True Story of Perfume and Obsession by Chandler Burr (Random House, 2002). I felt like a whole new world had opened up for me, one that isn’t always sweet: the competition between the world’s largest scent companies is fierce and cutthroat. Burr informs us that “virtually all the smells in all scented products in the world are manufactured by [five] huge companies that operate in carefully guarded anonymity.” These big boys—with power now even more concentrated, after several mergers since the publication of Burr’s book—are International Flavors & Fragrances (United States), Givaudan Roure (Switzerland), Firmenich (Switzerland), Symrise (Germany), and Takasago (Japan). The story-within-a-story in this book is that of Luca Turin, a renowned biophysicist who wrote Parfums: Le Guide, a bestseller in France, and The Secret of Scent: Adventures in Perfume and the Science of Smell (Ecco, 2006). Turin is something of a scientific maverick, having proposed a new theory of smell to unravel the mystery of scent. Turin told Burr that he got into the scent world because it was part of his upbringing and heritage: “Because I’m French, at least by upbringing. Frenchmen will do things Anglo men won’t, and France is a country of smells.” Some of the scientific equations and explanations here are admittedly over my head, but I still love this inside look at a world where science, marketing, art, and nature come together.

Le Labo
One of the more creative olfactory items I’ve ever seen is the Santal 26 perfumed notepad produced by Le Labo, a really cool company that I only recently discovered. Founded in 2006 by Édouard Roschi (Swiss) and Fabrice Penot (French), Le Labo—short for laboratoire (laboratory)—aims to “enable people to access the art of perfume in a setting inspired by a perfumer’s lab.” Both Roschi and Penot worked previously on the fragrance team of Armani (licensed by L’Oréal) and their scents are developed in Grasse, on the Côte d’Azur. (Home, by the way, to the excellent International Perfume Museum, museesdegrasse.com, as well as another under the auspices of Fragonard, fragonard.com.) Roschi and Penot’s mission is to “create ten exceptional fragrances, with no eye on costs and one goal: to create a sensory ‘shock’ as soon as you open the bottle.” I think they have done this brilliantly.
There are Le Labo boutiques and counters around the world (lelabofragrances.com), but only two in North AmericA: New York City (233 Elizabeth Street / 212 219 2230) and Los Angeles (8385 West Third Street / 323 782 0411). Not only are their scents exceptional, but the Santal 26 notepad—with its leather cover and brown kraft paper—is, too. The notebook is referred to as a carnet de boucher, or “butcher’s notebook,” which must refer to the brown kraft paper sometimes used to wrap purchases at a butcher shop. Other than the name, there is nothing remotely butcherlike about this wonderful creation! It’s handcrafted in France by the also terrific La Compagnie du Kraft (lacompagniedukraft.fr) and is scented with Le Labo’s cult interior scent, Santal 26, characterized by a smoky, leathery essence. It comes with an elastic band, and it is just one of my absolute favorite objets on the planet. “Use it and abuse it,” note the founders, “as it’s made to outlast you. And it probably will.”
When I visited the New York boutique, I decided to sample a few scents to see if I could find one more perfume to add to my (very small) stable of scents—they’re not easy for me to find, as perfume tends to be very fleeting on my skin. I tried four and loved them all, but six hours later the scent of only one still remained: Rose 31. So, yes, Rose 31 is now next to the other two bottles of perfume I own, and I’m extremely happy this scent is a part of my life. Each Labo scent is freshly bottled at the time of purchase and the label is personalized with the customer’s name. Each boutique has a unique city-exclusive scent: for Paris it’s Vanille 44, for New York it’s Tubéreuse 40, and for Los Angeles it’s Musc 25. Each perfume has an accompanying body lotion, and Le Labo’s line of candles and home fragrances are composed of completely different scents.

Sennelier

In Paris since 1887, Sennelier (magasinsennelier.com) is a renowned art supply shop founded by chemist Gustave Sennelier. He opened Maison (now Magasin) Sennelier on the Quai Voltaire, just across the Seine from the Louvre and not far from the École des Beaux-Arts, and happily Sennelier is still a family affair. According to the company, Sennelier’s work “was so meticulous and his eye for color so accurate that the artists soon began to consider his palette as the ultimate standard of quality.” Sennelier began packaging some paints in metal tubes, which enabled the painters of the day—notably the Impressionists—to paint outdoors; Cézanne, Pissarro, Bonnard, and Picasso are said to have been frequent clients.

Today the shop—known also as Couleurs du Quai—doesn’t look much different, inside or out, from its original appearance. The small glass door and creaking wooden floor seem perfect for an art supply shop, and there are papers, large rounds of colorful pastels, pencils, paints, watercolors, brushes, and drawing pads stuffed everywhere—this is not a pristine space, but rather a gold mine for anyone who is artistically inclined. Even for nonartistic types like myself there are quite a few things of interest: I found some great pads of paper in varying sizes and textures that I use for note-taking and journals, as well as a beautiful refillable leather case that snaps closed and holds a pad of paper inside. There are very handy Couleurs du Quai journals, in several sizes and with an elastic band, with standard brown kraft paper and covers featuring a photograph of the store dating from the early twentieth century.

But the best find here are the 24-carat gold-plated accroches-tableau de décoration (picture hooks). These old-fashioned hooks with decorative symbols on the top—such as the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, Napoléon, an artist’s palette, and so on—hold the picture up at the top (not from wire strung from the middle of the backing) with the decorative symbol showing above the frame. I just love these, and at a reasonable price of about thirty euros they’re a unique and lightweight souvenir. The original shop is at 3 quai Voltaire in the seventh arrondissement, and there are two other locations: Magasin Sennelier Frères (4 bis rue de la Grande-Chaumière, 6ème) and L’Atelier des Couleurs du Quai (6 rue Hallé, 14ème).

Serge Gainsbourg Wall

The rue de Verneuil, in the seventh, is home to the Serge Gainsbourg wall, at no. 5 bis. Born Lucien Ginsburg in 1928, singer-songwriter Gainsbourg was a French legend who recorded a great number of albums from the 1950s through the 1980s (a good place to start if you’re unfamiliar with his music is the 2006 compilation The Originals). He was also a sensation who made headlines often due to his relationships with Brigitte Bardot and Jane Birken and his sometimes public displays of drunkenness. The “Serge Gainsbourg Wall,” which is covered with graffiti and has been visited since his death in 1991, is the exterior of his former home, now owned by his daughter Charlotte. In an interview with Vanity Fair in 2007, Charlotte revealed that one day about seven years prior she’d discovered that all the graffiti had been covered up with “disgusting yellow” paint. She presumed it had been done by the police, but learned that the neighbors thought the wall was offensive and had organized a paint cover-up one night—“But the great thing was a week later, it was all covered with graffiti again.” Now she is hoping to turn the house into a museum with the help of architect Jean Nouvel. True Gainsbourg fans may also want to visit the newly dedicated Jardin Serge-Gainsbourg, on the northeast edge of the city at Porte des Lilas—where, unlike in the Tuileries, the chairs are permanently affixed to the cement! If the location seems odd, keep in mind that an early hit of Gainsbourg’s was “Le Poinçonneur des Lilas” (The Ticket Puncher at Lilas Station)—the Porte des Lilas Métro station is very nearby.

Photo Credit bm1.18

Les Souvenirs / Shopping

It is next to impossible to find anyone who knows more about shopping—for souvenirs or, well, anything—than Suzy Gershman, author of the bestselling and terrific Born to Shop series (Frommer’s) and the memoir C’est la Vie. Gershman’s shopping guides—which I read cover to cover—are packed with store suggestions for every type of shopper and pocketbook, and include tips that can save you bundles of money. After a number of years in France, with an apartment in Paris and a house in Provence, Gershman moved back to the States, and now lives in Southern California, where she is near her kids. I reached her by phone a few days after she moved back.

Q: When was the first Born to Shop guide published, and how did the idea for the series come about?
A: It all began with a lunch in 1984, just before the start of the Olympic Games in Los Angeles. A lot of people felt then that the Games would be a nightmare for L.A.—huge amounts of traffic, etc.,—and at this lunch I learned that all these women had rented their houses out and were leaving town until the Olympics were over. They were going to Venice, Treviso, the South of France, and so on, and everyone was excitedly sharing all their shopping tips for these various destinations. Not highfalutin tips, but everything from cut rate to couture, Monoprix, factory stores—real people shopping as opposed to designer shopping—and the idea was born to put all these tips together in one book. My husband came up with the title and the original concept was for a really big book, but Stephen Birnbaum’s guides were really popular then and statistics showed that travelers would buy a more specialized book rather than one large one. Bantam, my original publisher, decided to break up the big book we created and spin it off into smaller editions. Four different editions came out in 1986—London, France, Italy, and Hong Kong—and it grew from there. It was destination-based and very timely, and it was the tight revision schedule that made the books last. (And as it turned out, the L.A. Olympics were hugely successful and there was hardly any traffic, but we couldn’t have predicted that.)
Q: When did you first show an interest in retail shopping?
A: It all started when I was eleven years old. My father was a chairman of the World Health Organization, and in those days he worked for a division called the Pan American Health Organization. We lived in Caracas, Venezuela, for a year. We went to the markets a lot, and my dad often gave me the equivalent of fifty cents and said, “Here, Sue. See what you can buy with this.” I loved the theater and excitement of shopping.
Q: What are some organization tips you employ when researching a Born to Shop guide?
A: I was a correspondent for Time and People, and have basically been a reporter for most of my life. I’ve learned that the more organized you are, the more you get done that you wanted to in the first place. I have basic charts I create for each destination—these show the streets of my neighborhood’s hotels and transportation. I have developed a theory that tourists want to see specific sites and they want to know about shopping that is nearby those sites. I’m not a nighttime person, so I order room service and I turn on CNN and I sit in bed with my maps and my notes and I work the charts. I will send you to an out-of-the-way place only if I think it’s worth it. I really believe that people use guidebooks to eliminate things as opposed to following everything, and that’s really valuable information. I’m like an Indian scout who’s riding up at the head of the wagon train to tell you what’s ahead.
Photo Credit bm1.13
Also, I stay in the same few hotels every time because I know my way around most quickly—if I stayed in different hotels, I’d have to learn new neighborhoods constantly. I usually have three to five in each city. I need to know where my grocery store is, where I can get a rotisserie chicken, etc. I really lead a far less glamorous life than people might think. I choose hotels by nearby transportation, extra amenities, and whether there is a club floor or a lounge with food I can call dinner. I just don’t really use concierges. The first thing I do when I arrive in town is go to a kiosk and buy every local magazine on the stand, and then I spend that down time in bed, turn on local television, and start turning the pages. I don’t need to be able to read everything comprehensively, but this gets me in tune with the community.
Q: What are some hotels you particularly like in Paris?
A: The hotel I really like to recommend is the three-star Hôtel de L’Élysée (12 rue des Saussaies, 8ème / +33 01 42 65 29 25), across the street from the Élysée Palace. The location—half a block off the rue du Faubourg-Saint-Honoré, midway between the Champs-Élysées and rue Royale—is superb, and it’s a bit over a hundred euros per night. Some of the rooms are better than others—you have to be able to say, “I don’t like this room; I want this one instead.” Recently I stayed in a hotel that knocked my socks off: the InterContinental Avenue Marceau near the Arc de Triomphe (64 avenue Marceau, 8ème / +33 01 44 43 36 36 / ic-marceau.com), with twenty-eight rooms designed by Philippe Starck protégé Bruno Borrione. I have never been a contemporary-art person, having long preferred an old grande dame hotel, but this was so intime (intimate) and interesting, the décor a mix of Kenzo and wild and wacky and very creative without being offensive. Also you could get Wi-Fi access everywhere—often the old hotels don’t have the IT that you expect.
Q: What are some Paris souvenirs you recommend?
A: Well, it’s important to define what a souvenir is, because for each person it’s different. To me a souvenir works if it fits into your real life back home—it’s not necessarily a blinking Eiffel Tower. To me, something real life is the best souvenir: a kitchen towel, baby bibs with writing in French … I’m not so big on traditional touristy souvenirs.
Monoprix is probably my favorite store, and visitors should know that not all Monoprix supermarkets are created equal—you may have to go to more than one to find what you want. (Some have wonderful grocery stores—I have bought salt, sugar, lavender sugar, and and great gifts there.) I usually tell people to avoid the big department stores because I find them overwhelming, but I was just in Galeries Lafayette and it was terrific! Upscale grocery stores are great, including Lafayette Gourmet and the Grande Épicerie at Bon Marché, which is just so great. The arcades of the Palais Royal are a great place to find more unique things. I’ve also just found two new stores that are fab: Uniqlo (17 rue Scribe, 9ème / uniqlo.com), a Japanese version of Gap; and Igloo (111 avenue Victor-Hugo, 16ème), which at first glance seems kind of a tourist trap, a little like Pier 1 with weird stuff, but it is very cool, like a little department store—they have everything.
Q: Why did you decide to leave France?
A: It was hard to think about leaving France at first, especially Vaison-la-Romaine, where I was part of a little community, but everybody had left except for me and Patricia and Walter Wells. It just suddenly felt right. At my age I should be downsizing. My kids are in Paso Robles, which is just this amazing community. It’s truly in the middle of nowhere and exists because it’s halfway between L.A. and San Francisco. It was once the heart of the salad bowl but is now grapevines—about 80 percent are only five years old. There are a few people who’ve been there for thirty years making wine, but not many, and tastings are free or around five bucks. Some bottles of wine are fifty dollars, but the average is ten to twenty dollars. It’s thriving here! The French will tell you that one of the most important things in life is sitting down and sharing a meal and talking, and this happening in Paso.
Q: Is there any place you’ve not yet been that you’re dying to visit?
A: There are a million places that I’m dying to visit. Born to Shop books are chosen by numbers of visitors to various destinations, so I’ve never been to Cape Town, for example. There are a couple cities in Vietnam I’d like to go to, and I’d like to get back to Bangkok. I always want to go someplace else.

In addition to Gershman’s Born to Shop books, I also like to consult a few others that I’ve found very helpful over the years:

Chic Shopping Paris, Rebecca Perry Magniant with photographs by Alison Harris (Little Bookroom, 2008). Magniant founded the Chic Shopping Paris company (chicshoppingparis.com), a service offering personal tours of Paris’s bonnes adresses by bilingual guides. I have yet to work my way through every boutique in this book, but I’m almost there, and I can report that each shop I’ve visited is unique and interesting, even those I left empty-handed (which didn’t happen very often). Most of the shops Magniant recommends offer goods and services available only in Paris, and she regularly updates these listings and posts her new finds on her Web site.
The Flea Markets of France, Sandy Price with photographs by Emily Laxer (Little Bookroom, 2009). Though this terrific book covers a number of regions in France, one chapter is devoted to Paris and includes the marchés aux puces at Porte de Clignancourt, Porte de Montreuil, Porte de Vanves, and Place d’Aligre. As Price notes, the objects for sale at these markets “provide a glimpse of everyday life in decades past, and also suggest how that heritage continues to resonate today.” She includes much practical information for the flea market experience (when to go, how to get there, how to communicate, how to bargain, market schedules), as well as good suggestions for other things to do and other markets close by. I think this is indispensable for flea market aficionados.
Markets of Paris, Dixon Long and Ruthanne Long with photographs by Alison Harris (Little Bookroom, 2006). The authors, who also wrote Markets of Provence (William Morrow, 1996), “have a love affair with markets,” and so might you after flipping through this book. As the Longs note, the attraction of markets is that, “above all, it’s the opportunity to observe a social experience that is quintessentially French and independent of class.” They include markets with food, antiques, artisanal crafts, and books, many of which I’m eager to explore—plus restaurant recommendations. The two-page primer “When in Paris, Do as the Parisians” is very helpful, as are the suggested daily itineraries.
Paris Chic & Trendy: Designers’ Studios, Hip Boutiques, Vintage Shops, Adrienne Ribes-Tiphaine with photographs by Sandrine Alouf (Little Bookroom, 2006). As the title suggests, this guide focuses exclusively on fashion, and includes jewelry, lingerie, shoes, and handbags. The fifty-four recommended shops “together make Paris what it has never ceased to be: the all-time moving and shaking capital of fashion.”
Paris: Made by Hand, Pia Jane Bijkerk (Little Bookroom, 2009). Stylist Bijkerk adores all things fait main (handmade), and she presents an enticing selection of papermakers, shoemakers, jewelry designers, milliners, umbrella makers, dressmakers, ceramicists, and more. She also explains the interesting concept of fait main: it’s not only about creating something by hand, but also includes the act of restyling, restoring, or reinterpreting a found object. “In French,” Bijkerk notes, “the act of finding vintage objects has its own verb: chiner. And chineurs are the talented individuals who chinent. Many of the chineurs I have included in this book have the ability to see a found object in a whole new light, and they can’t wait to get back to the studio and get their hands dirty.” Packed with memorable ateliers and boutiques, the book also includes a list of her dozen favorite fait main stops.
The Paris Shopping Companion: A Personal Guide to Shopping in Paris for Every Pocketbook, Susan Swire Winkler with Caroline Lesieur (Cumberland House, 2006, fourth edition). Winkler has “pursued the enigma that is French style” for some time: she imports French linens for her own shop in Portland, Oregon, she lived in Paris as a graduate student in French literature, and she was a Paris-based fashion journalist for Women’s Wear Daily. Coauthor Lesieur is a native Parisian and a personal VIP guide, so between the two of these specialists, readers are in good hands. They inform us that the first tourist guidebooks to include information on French luxury goods and boutiques appeared in the seventeenth century. “Even then, during the time of Louis XIV, the shops were put together as nowhere else, positively seducing their customers. Little has changed and the world still flocks to Paris to be seduced by the charm, elegance, and glamour of its offerings.”
Winkler’s shopping favorites represent a very personal selection, and in fact she covers a limited range of neighborhoods, but what she does cover is thorough. I particularly like that she not only chooses her favorites and points out good values, but also has “made a special effort to highlight wise purchases in even the most expensive shops. These often make the most distinctive gifts because they come so beautifully wrapped and packaged.” Practical information—sizing charts, tax refunds, shipping, customs, a “shop talk” glossary—is included, as are some places to stay and a chapter called “Paris on a Budget.” They leave us with this parting thought: “In a culture where style of life is a source of national pride and pleasure, shopping as the French do is an invaluable approach to understanding French culture.”
The Riches of Paris: A Shopping and Touring Guide, Maribeth Clemente (St. Martin’s, 2007). Amid other similar titles, Clemente’s book stands out and is very much worth perusing. For seven years Clemente operated the Chic Promenade shopping service in Paris, and she lived there for a total of eleven years; she is also the author of The Riches of France: A Shopping and Touring Guide to the French Provinces (St. Martin’s, 1997). In this book, Clemente reminds readers of Paris’s long history of commerce, with its first trading outposts set up along its bridges, “where people could bargain for their essential goods as they plodded along the route from northern Europe to the Mediterranean. The actual shops during the mid-seventeenth century were merely storerooms for the goods lined up outdoors; store windows didn’t begin to appear until the end of the seventeenth century.… But somehow I imagine that the Parisians found their own alluring way of displaying their wares …” (I completely agree.) Clemente admits, “In Paris I relish the idea of entering a boutique that is quaint, enticingly decorated, and, most of all, has a soul all its own.” But don’t let this preference lead you to think this book will lend you to the passé or the démodé—there are plenty of contemporary, appealing, dynamic establishments here. As Clemente says, having a soul of its own is the most important quality of a retail shop. Organized by specialty rather than neighborhood, Clemente also includes dozens of “Riches of Paris Tips” and great sidebars with topics such as “Ten Ways to Find the French Look for You.”
Shopping Tips
Here are some good retail vocabulary words to know, especially if you’re in Paris during the national sales in January or August: soldes (sales); dégriffés (clothing where the labels have been cut out; more generally, “marked down”); moitié prix (half price); coin des affaires (the bargain section of a large store); deuxième choix (seconds); and tout doit disparaître (everything must go!). Je regarde (I’m just looking) is a useful response when someone asks you, “Vous désirez?” (May I help you?).
You might want to adopt my motto of “When in doubt, buy it now.” I learned years ago that the likelihood of being able to retrace my steps to a particular merchant when it was open was slim. A number of individual shops are closed on both Sunday and Monday, or open only on Monday afternoon, and many are still closed for two hours at lunchtime.
In short, remember that stores in Paris are not open twenty-four/seven, so if you spy a baguette in the window of a boulangerie or an article of clothing that has your name all over it, allez (go) and get it, for Pierre’s sake. One has regrets only for the roads not taken—or in this case the objet not purchased!

Spas

Spas and salons have become wildly popular, even de rigueur, in many hotels and inns, and in a city like Paris, where well-being and beauty are taken seriously, spas are plentiful. Some are quite lavish, as you might expect, but even those that are not are still something special. Only recently have I begun to appreciate how wonderful and truly beneficial spas are, especially during travels, and though it is easy enough to obtain the names and addresses of spas and salons in Paris, it isn’t so easy to compare them or know what to expect when you show up. Thank god there is now Pampered in Paris: A Guide to the Best Spas, Salons and Beauty Boutiques by Kim Horton Levesque and with photos by Kristyn Moore (Little Bookroom, 2010). If you are even remotely interested in spending some time at a spa or salon while in Paris, you positively need this book.

I had the great pleasure of meeting Levesque in New York when the Spa Vinothérapie Caudalie, in the Plaza Hotel, hosted a fête to celebrate her new guide (the Paris Caudalie spa is one Levesque recommends). We are very much kindred spirits; she told me, “I think I’m like you in that I am obsessive about pre-trip research. I always have several guidebooks and a folder of photocopies with me when I travel.” Levesque first visited France as a high school exchange student, and she returned to France every summer throughout college and worked variously as an au pair, farmhand, and cook at an auberge in Normandy (“I was cooking mainly for British travelers who wanted to get off the beaten path and experience authentic France—they didn’t know there was an American in the kitchen!”). She attended the Sorbonne as an undergraduate and taught French in an International Baccalaureate high school program in Phoenix. Her husband’s family is originally French-Canadian, “so it was a pleasant surprise,” she said, “that my father-in-law’s first language was French and that I was able to communicate with my husband’s entire extended family in their native tongue.” In addition to her French background, she’d been doing writing and translating for companies in the beauty industry; plus some of her favorite skin-care products are French, and she’s long had an interest in well-being. All of this made her a natural for authoring a spa book. Levesque thought many of the books about beauty in France created caricatures of French women, and she set about to improve upon that: “I wanted to offer more of a holistic and practical guide to Parisian beauty.” She was fortunate, while researching her book, to rent an apartment next to the Luxembourg Gardens, as she had her two daughters with her and was pregnant with her third. It was exhausting, she said, “but my parents came along to help with the girls and they spent part of almost every single day in the Luxembourg. I think it is one of the most beautiful gifts I can give them, the experience of travel.”

There are useful chapters in Pampered in Paris on basics such as French words and phrases and etiquette, which is essential, as Levesque can tell you: “I had a spa experience a few years ago that would have been much more relaxing if someone had told me what to expect. I was not anticipating a male masseur or a chest massage on my first Parisian spa day, but that’s what I got!” Levesque introduces readers to more than fifty spas in the first through ninth arrondissements, plus the twelfth and sixteenth, as well as four in the suburbs. They are quite varied—some offer traditional French treatments while others specialize in Thai, Chinese, or Indian therapies—and range in price from budget to very expensive. (Also included is the rare Nickel Spa for Men, which opened the first men’s salon in a department store in Paris at the Printemps on boulevard Haussmann and operates another outpost in the rue des Francs-Bourgeois in the third.) Levesque discusses thermalisme (thermal cures), hammams (Turkish baths), and thalassotherapy (treatments from the sea). She recommends manicure and pedicure salons as well as makeup boutiques, chains, and perfumeries. She explains that the French regard weekly salon visits for manicures and pedicures as “peculiarly American”; only a few salons are dedicated to nail care, but almost every spa offers a full menu of nail treatments.

Photo Credit bm1.3

My favorite chapter, “Beauty Secrets Revealed,” extolls the virtues of French pharmacies, which I adore. Pharmacies are identified by a light green neon sign; every neighborhood has a handful, so you are never very far from one (they also take turns staying open on weekends and holidays). Not only can you fill prescriptions here, but you can also find some items available over the counter that in the United States are available only by prescription. Levesque shares a list of must-have pharmacie items, including Avène and Nuxe products, which “have a mass popular and critical following.” Perhaps best of all is her recommendation of Be Relax, a kind of mini spa at both Charles de Gaulle and Orly airports. Walk-ins are expected, and a number of services are offered, including deep massage, massage designed to help travelers relax before a long flight, and foot massage. Though I understand why these services are popular before a flight, I actually think they would be better after a flight—how much better I would feel if I arrived at my hotel after a thirty-minute foot massage!

Levesque, who has dry and very sensitive skin, chooses Nuxe Crème Fraîche de Beauté Suractivée as her favorite moisturizer. “Also, as my French friends told me and I confirmed with research, Bioderma Créaline H20 Sans Parfum is many a French woman’s well-kept secret—it’s a gentle cleanser, and Bioderma Atoderm is a wonderful body lotion that doesn’t irritate my or my girls’ skin.” When I asked her which Paris spas or salons she would choose if she were forced to name only a few of her absolute favorites, she replied, “Well, I change my mind on any given day of the week, but this week my favorites are Wassana and Anne Fontaine for massage; Anne Sémonin Spa at the Bristol Hotel for facial, and the Détaille and Artisan Nature boutiques for perfume.”

Statues of Liberty

I like walking through the Luxembourg Gardens and coming upon the Statue of Liberty there. The first time I saw it, it came as a complete surprise. Likewise, when I saw the other one, on the Île des Cygnes, a man-made island in the Seine at the Pont de Grenelle, I couldn’t believe it (and I think I got a little teary eyed). I was reading Gertrude Stein’s Paris France and I completely latched onto her remark that “America is my country and Paris is my hometown.” It’s a beautiful and almost startling moment to see a Statue of Liberty in Paris.

Le Système D

The D stands for débrouillard—resourceful—or for the verb form, débrouiller—to untangle. Think of le système D as “winging it” or “getting by,” but it can also mean “beating the system.” Ross Steele, in his book When in France, Do as the French Do, explains that it is a French “national pastime to find a way around a government regulation or administrative decision,” and he notes that the expression says a lot about the French temperament. From the French point of view, “the chaos of a French line is a logical consequence of a mass of individuals untangling the knotty problem of getting to the head of the line.” Anyone who has witnessed the French inability to stand neatly in line knows that this is true. Le système D is present in nearly all aspects of French life, and one of the highest compliments in France is Il/Elle sait se débrouiller (He/She knows how to get things done). As Steele notes, this is “always sincere and expresses admiration for a person’s resourcefulness.”

T

Le Thé des Écrivains

The name of this original shop in the Marais, Le Thé des Écrivains (16 rue des Minimes, 3ème / thedesecrivains.com), translates loosely as Tea of Writers. Founder Georges-Emmanuel Morali has created an incredibly appealing concept that weds tea with writers and readers. There are, for example, canisters of teas blended to evoke Russian, Japanese, American, French, and English writers, alongside a terrific assortment of handmade journals, photo albums, and notebooks. I have a great memory of the first time I stepped into this shop: it was an uncharacteristically overcast, chilly day in late September, and I was offered a complimentary cup of tea brewing in a samovar at the back of the store. I soon discovered one of my favorite souvenirs on earth: a carnet de voyage composed of three notebooks and one accordion folder housed in a handmade paper case held together with an elastic band and a brown bead. I’ve bought about a dozen carnets since then, filling up three and giving the others as gifts. The handmade notebooks come in a great range of bright, cheerful colors, and the store’s Collection Vacances features luggage and gift tags. If you love reading, writing, tea, or all three, you will not want to leave this shop.

Travel Journals

I’ve never been the kind of person to record daily personal entries in a journal, but I’ve known many people who find that “Dear Diary” approach meaningful and positively addictive. When I’m traveling, however, I want to record as many details as possible—where and what I ate, what the weather was like, how much money I spent, how a site, monument, or event made me feel. Recently, I’ve also borrowed a habit from my good friend Arlene, who likes to record a quote of the day in her journals. This can simply be a funny or memorable remark, uttered by a traveling companion or, really, anyone encountered on a trip. Sometimes more than one quote is worthy of inclusion on a given day, and these are great fun to read after a trip is over.

My journal is indispensable to me not only while I’m traveling but before I depart—I typically fill up at least half a journal with notes and clippings that I glue onto the pages. The journal then becomes my main resource on a trip, eliminating the need for lots of other books—otherwise I bring only one or two guidebooks, plus a novel or two and a work of nonfiction. By the time my trip has ended, my journal is a complete record—a true souvenir—of everything I experienced, bulging with even more handwritten notes, paper ephemera, pressed flowers, wine labels, postcards, you name it. Yet it’s also much more than a souvenir: compiling the journal before I depart and while I’m away is among the most treasured experiences of my life.

Over the years I’ve purchased a great number of journals, a few of which have had features I’ve liked and many of which have not. So a few years ago, I created one of my own: En Route: A Journal and Touring Companion for Inspired Travelers (Potter Style, 2007), which includes general travel tips and recommendations, wonderful travel quotations, lined pages for your own notes, sketching pages, address and emergency information pages, and a clear sleeve at the back that zips closed. Additionally, I asked several noted travelers to share the titles of books that inspired them to hit the road, and the replies—from Colman Andrews, Melissa Biggs Bradley, Dana Cowin, Ina Garten, Frances Mayes, Peter Mayle, Barbara Ohrbach, Fred Plotkin, and Ruth Reichl—are sprinkled throughout.

Kids like journals, too, and without doubt the best one I’ve seen is The Children’s Travel Journal by Ann Banks and with illustrations by Adrienne Hartman (Little Bookroom, 2004), which is spiral-bound and has lined and blank pages and a pocket in the back. There are sections for the destination, first impressions, food and restaurants, landmarks and monuments, museums and galleries, people, best and worst days, and “I’ll never forget …” This is just so creative and so much fun, a real opportunity for younger globe-trotters to create a masterpiece of memories. My daughter already has two of these, each stuffed to the gills with her drawings, notes, photos, dozens of entry tickets, postcards, maps, stamps, and even some restaurant menus (it’s remarkable how waiters will let you keep one when a child is asking).

U

Un Jour Un Sac

Translated loosely as “one day, one bag” (sac refers to a handbag), the concept of the store Un Jour Un Sac by François Rénier is one that I love: it’s mixing and matching handbags with different handles that clip on and off—or “it’s all the bags you can imagine,” to borrow from the Web site. The possibilities are practically endless, and it’s like having a bag custom made just for you. There are six stores in Paris (unjourunsac.com) and each bag is made entirely in northern France.

V

La Vaissellerie

La Vaissellerie (lavaissellerie.fr) is a chain of five stores—“les petites boutiques chic de Paris”—with inexpensive tabletop wares and kitchen items you didn’t know you needed. I have bought a number of useful and attractive items here over the years, and it’s a good shop to know about for gifts. My favorite find is a cylindrical plastic container meant to store Camembert cheese in: there’s an upright piece of plastic on the bottom half that acts as a knife, so when you put a round of unwrapped cheese inside, the “knife” actually cuts it, and each time you lift up the round and move it, the cheese is sliced in a new place. You can find sets of white porcelain platters and plates at great prices, plus linen towels, silverware, ceramics, place mats, glassware, utensils, and more. When you make a purchase, you automatically receive a carte de fidélité that entitles you to future discounts.

W

WC

Le WC (vay-say, or double vay-say), is how you refer to a restroom in a public place in France (as opposed to a bathroom in a private home, which is often composed of two rooms, the toilettes and the salle de bain). Some visitors may be surprised to find that many bathrooms in older bars, cafés, and restaurants are chronically short of toilet paper (it’s never a bad idea to start out each day with some tissues in your pocket), and many are still even à la turque, meaning squat toilets. I have read (and I believe) that these are actually physiologically healthier than our fashion of sitting on a toilet seat; however, anyone who has trouble squatting and standing up again—to say nothing of those who find the prospect repellent—may not enjoy navigating one of these. It can also be confusing to figure out how to flush the toilet. Typically, there is a chain or a lever marked tirez (pull), and when you do water can produce quite a wave, sometimes coming up over the basin and your feet—so you should prepare to flush as you simultaneously open the door of the stall and step out. If these seem like unnecessary details, I share a comment from author Bill Gillham in Parisians’ Paris: “All I can say is that a bad experience in a Parisian lavatory can spoil your day; or at least put you off your meal.” Gillham also reminds visitors that, “if you are not to experience a minor trauma,” if you find yourself in complete darkness when you close the door to some bathroom stalls, don’t panic: the light will come on when you slide the bar to lock the door.

Wine Shops

Lovers of the fruit of the vine will find wine sold mostly everywhere: in supermarkets like Monoprix and small neighborhood grocers, at the wine retailer Nicolas—the oldest wine chain in France, founded in 1822, with more than four hundred stores in France and some other European countries—and at renowned and beautiful shops. Here are some of my favorites:

Lavinia (3 boulevard de la Madeleine, 1er / lavinia.fr). This three-floor shop, Paris’s largest wine store, carries many very affordable wines in stock as well as rare bottles.

Legrand Filles et Fils (1 rue de la Banque, 2ème / caves-legrand.com). In the beautiful Galerie Vivienne, Legrand is one of the oldest grocers and wine merchants in France. On one side of the galerie is a shop selling glasses, books, and other wine paraphernalia, while on the other side is the actual wine store, with more than four thousand wines and a great espace-dégustation for tastings.

Les Caves Augé (116 boulevard Haussmann, 8ème / cavesauge.com). Founded in 1850, Augé has a reputation for carrying the very best wines, but there are lots of bottles for twenty euros and under.

Clos Montmartre (9 bis rue Norvins, 18ème / commanderie-montmartre.com). Paris’s own vineyard, fifteen hundred square meters planted with Gamay and Pinot Noir grapes. The land was set to be exploited by property investors for a housing development but was saved by artist François Poulbot in 1929. The first vines were planted in 1933, and every October since then a five-day Fête des Vendanges has been held, with proceeds from all the wine sold going to children’s charities. Clos Montmartre’s location seems appropriate, as Romans built a temple here on this hill dedicated to Bacchus.

Z

Zouaves

The stone Zouave soldier on the Pont de l’Alma, built in 1856 to commemorate Napoléon III’s victory in the Crimea, is one of my favorite symbols of Paris. The Zouaoua were a fiercely independent tribe living in the hills of Algeria and Morocco; in the summer of 1830 some Zouaoua lent their services to the French colonial army, and later that year were organized into two battalions of auxiliaries. Over the next decade the Zouaves, as the French called them, proved their valor in dozens of bloody desert encounters. Even as Zouave units began to be increasingly composed of native Frenchmen, their distinctive uniform remained a derivation of traditional North African dress: a short collarless jacket, a sleeveless vest, flowing trousers, a long woolen sash, white canvas leggings, and a tasseled fez and turban. By 1852, the Zouave units were made up entirely of native Frenchmen, and Louis Napoléon restructured them into three regiments of the regular French army. Algerians and Moroccans alike were assigned to units of the Tirailleurs Algériens, or Turcos, and wore their own distinctive light blue version of the Zouave uniform. According to the Web site Zouave.org, U.S. Army captain George B. McClellan, observing the Zouaves in 1855, praised them as “the finest light infantry that Europe can produce,” and soon after American militia units began to adopt the baggy trousers, braid-trimmed jacket, and tasseled fez of the Zouaves.

The Crimean War of 1854–55 confirmed the reputation of the Zouaves, and after the battle of Alma, Marshal de Saint-Arnaud noted, “Les Zouaves sont les premiers soldats du monde”—The Zouaves are the best soldiers in the world. It was at the battle of Sebastopol, however, that the Zouaves won immortal renown. They went on to play major parts in the battles of Magenta, Solferino, and Mexico, and in the Franco-Prussian War and World War I. But the Great War saw some Zouave battalions lose as many as eight hundred men in a single charge, and as camouflage, not color, became standard dress, their uniform passed into the pages of history by 1915.

Vincent van Gogh painted five works of Zouaves; with the exception of one in a private collection, all are on view in public museums, including the Metropolitan Museum of Art and the Guggenheim in New York and the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. The Pont de l’Alma originally had four statues of Zouaves built into its span, but now this one soldier stands alone, and he is Paris’s official flood gauge. During the worst overflowing of the Seine, in 1910, the river waters reached his beard.

Paris, to be Paris, must be the place where the great moral dilemmas of mankind are identified and where the experiments in the life of thought—if not of action—take place at the highest register. Paris should be infuriating, as it must have been to millions when, for example, Édouard Manet painted a naked woman lunching on the grass.… Above all, for Paris to be Paris, it has to be free. The question thus is not: Are there too many Arabs in Belleville, too many Chinese in the thirteenth arrondissement, too many neighborhoods that have lost their character? The question is: Will the fear that there are no longer any Parisians lead the inhabitants of the great village on the Seine no longer to fashion a place that matters to all humanity?

—Richard Bernstein, Fragile Glory

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

A book of any type requires the efforts of a staggering number of people, but an anthology requires the involvement of even more people as well as a staggering number of details. The likelihood is great, therefore, that I have neglected to name some people who helped create this finished book or who kindly inquired about it, and I can only hope that they will understand and forgive me. Once again, I extend an enormous merci to Vintage publisher Anne Messitte, Vintage Editor-in-Chief LuAnn Walther, and my editor Diana Secker Tesdell, who likely never anticipated that an anthology series could prove to be so compliqué. Other patient and talented colleagues in the extended Vintage family who diligently helped this book along include Cathryn Aison, David Archer, Bette Graber, Kathy Hourigan, Jo Anne Metsch, Roz Parr, Nicole Pedersen, Russell Perreault, Anke Steinecke, and Allison Zimmer. Merci bien also to Steven Barclay, Sebastian Beckwith, Carol Bonow, Ceil Bouchet, Joan DeMayo, Lindsey Elias, Barbara Fairchild, Ina Garten, Suzy Gershman, Mark Greenside, Mireille Guiliano, Linda Hollick, Ruth Homberg, Judith Jones, Sylvie de Lattre, Kim Levesque, Alec Lobrano, Kermit Lynch, Emily Marshall, Caroline Mennetrier, Jennifer Paull, Emanuelle Sasso, Clark Terry, Patricia Wells, and Molly Wizenberg. Sincere thanks to each of the individual writers, agents, and permissions representatives for various publishers and periodicals without whose cooperation and generosity there would be nothing to publish, and I would not have the opportunity to share the work of many good writers with my readers. Extra special thanks to traveling companions and friends Amy Myer and Lorraine Paillard, and to Arlene Lasagna, who bravely stepped in as amateur camerawoman in the absence of my official photographer, Peggy Harrison (www.peggyharrison.com). I am appreciative of the kind and courteous assistance from the staff at the Mount Pleasant Public Library in Pleasantville, New York, and I remain deeply grateful to my brilliant and kind boss and mentor, Chip Gibson, who has long supported The Collected Traveler. Finally, thanks to my husband, Jeff, and our daughter, Alyssa, whose favorite Parisian experience (so far) is riding the carousel near the foot of the Eiffel Tower.

PERMISSIONS ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

“Perfection Squared” from Alibis: Essays on Elsewhere by André Aciman (originally published in Conde Nast Traveler, March 2000). Copyright © 2011 by André Aciman. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC.

“Solar-Powered Timekeeping in Paris” by Susan Allport (originally published in The New York Times, March 16, 2003). Copyright © 2003 by Susan Allport. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The Anatomy of Success” by Naomi Barry (originally published in CCN Newsletter, www.ccn-world.com, April 2010). Copyright © 2010 by Michel Cloes/Naomi Barry. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Counter Culture” by Naomi Barry (originally published in CCN Newsletter, www.ccn-world.com, November 2009). Copyright © 2009 by Naomi Barry. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“A Saga of Bread” by Naomi Barry (originally published in Gourmet, March 1989, as “The Fall and Rise of French Bread”). Copyright © 1989 by Naomi Barry. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Foreword to John Russell’s Paris” by Rosamond Bernier, from Paris by John Russell (Abrams, 1994). Copyright © 1994 by Rosamond Bernier. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“We’ll Always Have … Questions” by Ann Burack-Weiss (originally published in The New York Times, June 2, 1996). Copyright © 1996 by Ann Burack-Weiss. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Thanksgiving in Paris” by Laura Chamaret (originally published in slightly different form in Food & Wine, 2006). Copyright © 2006, 2011 by Laura Chamaret. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Proust’s Paris” by Sanche de Gramont (originally published in Horizon, Autumn, 1972). Copyright © 1972 by Sanche de Gramont. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Station to Station” by Barbara Dinerman (originally published in Paris Notes, February 1999). Copyright © 1999 by Barbara Dinerman. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Of Cobbles, Bikes, and Babos” by David Downie (originally published in Paris Notes as “Cobble Prone,” February 2008). Copyright © 2008 by David Downie. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The Message” from Out of the Kitchen: Adventures of a Food Writer by Jeannette Ferrary (John Daniel & Company, McKinleyville, CA, 2004). Copyright © 2004 by Jeannette Ferrary. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“On the Île Saint-Louis” by Herbert Gold (originally published in San Francisco Examiner, August 9, 1987). Copyright © 1987 by Herbert Gold. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Why We Love French Wine” by Peter Hellman (originally published in Food & Wine, April 1992.) Copyright © 1992 by Peter Hellman. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“France: The Outsider” by Ian Jack (originally published in Granta, Autumn 1997). Copyright © 1997 by Ian Jack. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“A Clean, Well-Lighted Café in Montparnasse” by Adair Lara (originally published in San Francisco Chronicle, August 20, 1991). Copyright © 1991 by Adair Lara. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The New Left Bank” by Alexander Lobrano (originally published in Gourmet, November 2008). Copyright © 2008 by Conde Nast. Reprinted by permission of Conde Nast Publications.

“Liquid Gold” by Susan Herrmann Loomis (originally published in France, Summer 2007). Copyright © 2007 by Susan Herrmann Loomis. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The Walls of Paris” from Paris Discovered: Explorations of the City of Light by Mary McAuliffe. Copyright © 2006 by Mary McAuliffe. Reprinted by permission of Elysian Editions.

“Paint the Town” by Paris Muse (originally published in Paris Notes, October 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Paris Muse. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Le Père Tanguy” by Henri Perruchot from Aspects of Modern Art: Selective Eye III edited by Georges Bernier. (Published by Reynal & Company, New York, in 1957.)

“Affordable Gothic Thrills” by Anne Prah-Perochon (originally published in France Today, January/February, 1999). Copyright © 1999 by Anne Prah-Perochon. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“According to Plan—Maps of Paris” by Catharine Reynolds (originally published in Gourmet, July 1990). Copyright © 1990 by Catharine Reynolds. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The Paris of Parisians” by Catharine Reynolds (originally published in Gourmet, March 2001). Copyright © 2001 by Catharine Reynolds. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Passages” by Catharine Reynolds (originally published in Gourmet, January 1988). Copyright © 1988 by Catharine Reynolds. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“A Tale of Two Artists” by Catharine Reynolds (originally published in Gourmet, September 1997). Copyright © 1997 by Catharine Reynolds. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The Master of the Machine” by John Russell (originally published in Horizon, Autumn 1972). Copyright © 1972 by John Russell. Reprinted by permission of Rosamond Bernier.

“We’ll Always Have Paris” by Stacy Schiff (originally published in Gourmet, August 2005). Copyright © 2005 by Stacy Schiff. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Bridging the Seine” by Vivian Thomas (originally published in Paris Notes, October 1999). Copyright © 1999 by Vivian Thomas. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Streets of Desire” by Vivian Thomas (originally published in Paris Notes, November 2000). Copyright © 2000 by Vivian Thomas. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Thirza’s Take on Paris” by Thirza Vallois (originally published in Bonjour Paris, April 10, 2010). Copyright © 2010 by Thirza Vallois. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The French Rude? Mais Non!” by Joseph Voelker (originally published in The Washington Post, October 6, 1991). Copyright © 1991 by Joseph Voelker. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“La Poste and I” by Barbara Wilde (originally published in Paris Postcard, January 2004). Copyright © 2004 by Barbara Wilde. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“The Secret Shops of the Palais Royal” by Barbara Wilde (originally published in Paris Postcard, March 2010). Copyright © 2010 by Barbara Wilde. Reprinted by permission of the author.

“Why I Love My Quincaillerie” by Barbara Wilde (originally published Paris Postcard, March 2006). Copyright © 2006 by Barbara Wilde. Reprinted by permission of the author.

Barrie Kerper
PARIS

Barrie Kerper is an avid traveler and reader who has lived abroad. She has over a thousand books in her home library—and an even greater number of file clippings—and has filled up four passports.

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