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Travel Guides: All Countries / Europe / France / Paris-Ile-de-France / Paris
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| | | | Review by robert moorehouse from beverley
very nice location
So much to do, so fast
I wouldn't go as far as to say that Tom Cruise and I are so similar that we worship the same God or anything, but with the release of his latest action-packed blockbuster, Mission Impossible 3 I do feel like we've got something in common.
You see, I spent the other weekend in France's gastronomic region of Burgundy where an action-packed agenda saw us playing golf, cycling, horse-riding, hot-air ballooning, rock climbing and Segway riding - all in 48 hours.
Like Tom, we'd be performing all our own stunts (okay, activities) although our rewards would be more epicurean than financial, with the opportunity to savour some of Burgundy's gastronomic delights at every meal time.
We got the star treatment on the journey to Burgundy's ancient capital Dijon in Eurostar's plush first class carriage journey from Waterloo on Eurostar and after a brief tour around the city streets (we got a bit lost) we arrived at our 17th century hotel and tucked into a tasty gourmet meal at its picturesque restaurant, Les Oenophiles.
If you find yourself in Dijon, this place is well worth visiting. Chilled gazpacho jelly amuse bouche was followed by a delicious salad, trio of perfectly cooked meats and a selection of minute puddings. On the way out we spotted the cheese board oozing deliciously. But fitting in another course would definitely have been Mission Impossible.
Bright and early the next day we took a speedy tour around Dijon's historic streets on a Segway. Although the tourist office has been running the trips for over four years, we got more curious stares than an A-list celeb on a red carpet. Perfectly coiffured French women yanked their quiffed poodles edgily out of the way, and old people clutched each other in horror as we whizzed past.
Dijon was home to the rich and powerful Dukes of Burgundy from the early 11th century to the late 1400s and the city's centre is a beautifully preserved mix of gothic churches, half-timbered medieval buildings and leafy squares.
The Segways glided easily over the ancient cobbles and thanks to their big wheels, we were easily able to rub the town's lucky charm, an owl carved onto the side of the impressive 13th century Notre Dame church. The owl is polished smooth where eight centuries of townspeople and visitors have made their wishes.
After lunch we drove across the picturesque Cote D'Or countryside that surrounds Dijon to the tiny village of Pouilly en Auxois to experience La Voute. This 3,333m-long tunnel was carved through the hills in the 19th century to connect the rivers Seine and Saone with the Atlantic and English Channel.
At this time, canals were the quickest way to transport goods and the whole region is criss-crossed with the now tranquil, tree-lined water paths. The 1,200-odd kilometres of canal paths are surrounded by peaceful countryside, tiny stone villages and the vine-covered hillsides for which Burgundy is justifiably famous.
As we travelled through the eerie, black tunnel that took 4,000 men seven years to build and which at the middle offered barely a pin-prick of light at either end to light our way, it was hard to imagine a better setting for a spine-chilling horror film. Nearly 200 men lost their lives during the mammoth project and at night their souls are said to haunt the tunnel. But it was so dark in there, how did they know when it was day and night?
The walls dripped with tiny stalactites and slimy mould and the occasional bat (or was it a ghost?) flapped past our specially adapted solar-powered boat. I presumed we'd stored enough solar power before we entered the tunnel to get us through... It seemed a bit pathetic to state the obvious half-way through. Gulp.
Clearly I'm more an action film fan than a horror fan and it was a great relief to emerge into bright sunshine once again.
Our next stop was a restored medieval fortress, Chateau de Chailly where we had a golf lesson to attend. First we had a whizz round the 18-hole course in a couple of golf buggies before getting a few swings on a club with the club pro.
Okay, so far most of our activities had been fairly sedentary, but the following day things hotted up. We drove down to Cravant to pick up our mountain bikes and then it was back to the canal again, this time cycling alongside it, rather than gliding along.
The weather was ideal, sunny with a slight breeze and we powered along Canal du Nivernais spotting heron and the odd falcon hovering for prey. The canal path joined the mighty Yonne River which, along with the Saone and the Seine form three of the biggest rivers in Northern France.
The surrounding hills offer some the best wine growing conditions in France, hence the appellation "Cote d'Or" or golden hills. Names like Nuits St Georges, Chablis and Puligny Montrachet which are normally just labels on a bottle of wine, are pretty hamlets surrounded by acres of vines.
At this time of year the vines are severely pruned but in a few months time the whole area will be green with bushy vine leaves and plump, juicy grapes ready to produce some memorable Burgundy vintages.
Which is exactly what we were rewarded with after our bike ride. Stopping in Accolay's Hostellerie de la Fontaine we lunched in a converted wine cellar, sampling a hearty selection of local delicacies. Burgundy snails cooked in Dijon mustard and locally caught river fish were washed down with red wine from next door Irancy and this time the cheese trolley was ours to sample.
Of course, there's nothing like a hefty five-course meal with wine to set you up for an afternoon in the saddle. It had been eight years since I'd dared get on a horse, the last one having bucked, bolted and scraped under a huge tree branch in a failed attempt to get me off its back. So while getting drunk may not be the way Tom Cruise prepares for a dangerous stunt scene, it was exactly what I needed to give me the Dutch courage necessary to mount my steed.
Travel Guide: France
Boobs but no blushes at Moulin Rouge
If Nicole Kidman and Ewan McGregor have it right, in 1900 the Moulin Rouge was a lascivious den of passion and vice.
It must have burnt itself out. In 2004, the Parisien venue delivers no such shocks for visitors. It's a slick, red velvet-clad, money-spinner of a place, dressed up to look like a courtesan's boudoir, complete with a shop.
Current show Feerie is a 90-minute song and dance bash about fairytales.
Don't go to the Moulin Rouge expecting Satine and Christian — the characters played by Ewan McGregor and Nicole Kidman in Baz Luhrmann's movie.
The real Moulin Rouge is a sequins and feathers cabaret show with 60 topless Doriss Girls (all size 6 and gorgeous), and 40 dishy guys with six-packs, who stay fully clothed throughout.
It's an eyeful for men of all types, although women may like the glamour.
The action takes place in the dimly-lit Bal du Moulin Rouge, reached via a pair of enormous studded doors.
Inside, it's an outdoor street scene. Terraces of tables leading to the stage are lit by red fringed lamps, lanterns on strings are strung up about the place and a Greek temple facade is thrown in for good measure.
The best seats are at stage level, literally alongside the performers.
Moulin Rouge shows are at 9pm and 11pm daily. The late show comes with copious champagne served by bustling waiters. Don't bother trying to take a picture. Staff zoom over to stop you, so the official photographer can sell you snaps from 15 euros (£10) each.
Travel Guide: Paris
Walt Disney Studios opens in Paris
Disney threw a lavish party for 5,000 people to celebrate the opening of its new theme park next door to Disneyland Paris at the weekend.
The new £400m park - Walt Disney Studios - is themed around cinema, TV and animation and features shows rather than the usual rides.
The company hopes that, combined with the 10-year-old park, it will make a resort for a three to four-day holiday.
More than two million Brits go to Disneyland Paris every year and nearly one in three goes more than once.
"We have to have something to bring them back and to encourage people who have not been there before," says UK managing director Jo Rzymowska.
"The majority of people come for two nights and three days and with the new park we expect that to increase to three nights and four days," she adds.
When Disneyland Paris opened nearly 10 years ago, it was stung with criticisms of long queues, expensive food and having too much outdoors.
Disney has taken those criticisms to heart. "Around 80% of the new park is indoors," says Jo.
It has extended its free Fast Pass system to Walt Disney Studios so customers can book times for a ride to avoid lengthy queues.
Disney has also tried to make its new £400m park more multicultural. It employs 80 different nationalities and has more announcements in English. On the food side there is more variety and it aims to be quicker and cheaper by making all restaurants self-service.
Travel Guide: Paris
Walt Disney Studios - the good and the bad
The newly-opened Walt Disney Studios near Paris aims to attract fans of cinema, TV and animation.
It differs from Disneyland Paris next door because it features shows and has an education bias rather than rides - it is also considerably smaller and can be easily seen in under a day.
Unfortunately, neither the best nor the worst rides in Walt Disney Studios really fit with the TV and cinema theme.
The best is the Rock 'n Roller Coaster tenuously linked to Aerosmith. A fast and scary white-knuckle ride in the dark, the best seats are at the back.
The naffest is the Flying Carpets over Agrabah. It's a glorified merry-go-round suitable for very small children, even though the park is for older kids.
The new park has four shows lasting from 20 minutes and all under cover. The most exciting is the Stunt Show. A grandstand holds 3,000 people for a fast-moving display of car and bike stunts in a French village setting.
There are two cinemas which hold shows. Cinemagique, showing a series of film clips cleverly linked together is amusing, but not riveting. Animagique is better. It's clever and funny with "real" cartoon characters.
The Art of Animation is disappointing. It's in three parts - the first two are in two adjoining cinemas and are mainly in French. The final part is the best - you can learn to draw cartoons and make computer cartoons. Tip: you can get into this bit through the shop.
Armageddon is bound to draw crowds but was broken on opening day. It's set in a space ship with fire and smoke effects but lasts only seven minutes and is a real let-down.
One of the other big draws is also rather over-hyped. The Studio Tram Tour is very slow with an annoying voiceover by Jeremy Irons. The best bit is an earthquake and flood, but it leaves you wanting more thrills.
Travel Guide: Paris
Bargain hunters lay siege to Troyes
From the Daily Mail
Though it was not quite midday, we were already in our 30th clothes shop of the day.
'How do I look in this?' my wife asked, trying on a small suit indistinguishable from any of the dozens she had already discarded.
'Stunning,' I said. I always do. 'Like Ally McBeal.' She went to the mirror, turned this way and that, and cried: 'What do you mean, Ally McBeal?' And with that we moved on to clothes shop number 31.
Tackling the factory shops of Troyes - 90 minutes southeast of Paris - is a demanding business. The normal strains and stresses of shopping with loved ones are multiplied by ten: these being factory shops, there are bargains - which always add an edge to the retail experience.
With around 200 outlets, Troyes is the European capital of factory shops. There are acres of designer labels in two main centres, so once your wife starts trying on suits there's no good reason why she should ever stop. World-famous brands jostle with unusual promiscuity at discounts of 30% or more.
It is worth knowing that the French word marques means brand names. The word is plastered all over the place - to banish any suspicion that they deal in duff stuff - and even provides the name for the Marques Avenue centre, on the southern fringe of town.
Travel Guide: Paris
I love Paris in the summer, too
By Tara Wallis
Pulling up to my hotel in a chauffeur driven car, I couldn't fail to spy the chic black and gold facade of my neighbour - exclusive jeweller Cartier.
Across the street was glass-fronted Tiffany and, five minutes' walk away, department store Galeries Lafayette was handy for affordable shopping sprees.
Also nearby were the Louvre, Eiffel Tower and the Jardin de Tuileries - perfect for summertime strolls.
My Paris hotel in the Rue de la Paix was sandwiched between the Palais Garnier opera house and the Place Vendome.
Stepping out, you're immediately surrounded by imposing, colonnaded buildings rooted in wealth and history. It's all a stunning visual feast.
At no.3 Place Vendome, you can see where Napoleon wed Josephine de Beauharnais in 1796.
A free one-day Paris museum pass came with my hotel room, so I headed for the partly-revamped Musee Guimet, right outside the Iena Metro stop.
Not large enough to be overwhelming, the building houses an impressive array of fine Asian artefacts from nine countries, including Japan and Tibet.
Collections, such as a swathe of ornate Buddha heads, were labelled, on the whole, in both French and English.
Restaurants in Paris can be pricey, and at about £30 per head for three courses, Emporio Armani Caffe was no exception. For a treat, though, it was ideal. A Parmesan risotto laced with truffles, and seafood dishes with scallops and langostine were delicious.
Travel Guide: Paris
What's left of the Left Bank?
From the Mail on Sunday
What an awful moment it must have been for Charles de Gaulle. It was 1921 and he had a lot on his mind. He had spent two years as a PoW during the First World War and the preceding year had been decorated in Poland for participating in the struggle against the Bolsheviks.
Now he was back in France taking the first tentative steps on his political career. And on top of all that he was getting married. So when Yvonne, his wife-to-be popped the question, 'Where exactly are we going on honeymoon, mon grand chou-fleur?' (or words to that effect), the great man was speechless.
A honeymoon? So soon after the war? Was she mad? None of these responses, even for a man as notoriously undiplomatic as de Gaulle, would, he realised, strike the right note. Some quick thinking was required. So, after a suitably Gallic pause, he grandly announced: 'Well, ma cherie, we are going to Paris!' 'But,' replied the future Madame de Gaulle after a long, frosty, even more Gallic pause, 'We live in Paris'.
De Gaulle, more conscious than most of his place in history, saw with horror that his future was in danger of becoming little more than a music hall joke - the would-be world leader with the shortest marriage ever. He was in deep trouble. How could he rescue the situation and his marriage? The answer, when it came to him, was simple. He took her to the Hotel Lutetia.
More than 70 years later the imposing building still stands at the corner of the Boulevard Raspail and the Rue de Sevres, as much a part of the St Germaine des Pres area as the cafes and brasseries of the grand boulevards. Of course, the hotel may still be there, but all around it the tide of change has transformed the area. The Lutetia now is not just a hotel: after a recent multimillion pound refurbishment, it is also one of the few remaining monuments to a Left Bank era that has long since gone.
Two years ago the singer Juliette Greco set up the group 'SOS St Germaine des Pres' in an effort to prevent the onward march of couture driving out the cafe culture. A laudable aim, perhaps, but if she has succeeded, it's hard to see where.
Everything is different from the glory days when Jean-Paul Sartre announced in the Cafe de Flore the birth of existentialism, Albert Camus could be seen sipping coffee at the Deux Magots and writers such as Samuel Becket and Ernest Hemingway rubbed shoulders with Picasso. Now, St Germaine des Pres is cleaner, tidier, achingly fashionable and dreadfully expensive. The names that give the district its cachet today are no longer those of artists and philosophers, but the likes of Armani, Gaultier, Versace.
Travel Guide: Paris
The perfect day in Paris
The trouble with Parisian Sundays is that they are very Sunday-ish. Shops and restaurants close, and traditional activities are encouraged.
These include having a good sit down on a bench, taking a walk or visiting museums and galleries (irritatingly for less cultural visitors, the major museums and galleries are free on the first Sunday of each month, requiring a real effort to think of excuses for not going).
The Parisians dress up smartly, and eat at each other's houses, which means there are fewer people - and thus less to see - on the streets.
One friend of mine has a drastic answer: 'Get up late,' he says, 'then it's down to the river for one of those two-hour Bateau Mouche cruises. You sit on the sun deck with your baseball cap over your eyes, and bottle of Coke in your hand - it's the perfect way of dealing with a hangover.'
He's right to mention the hangover. It would be unnatural not to have one first thing on a Sunday in Paris, so you do need peace and quiet.
And going with the gentle flow of a Parisian Sunday can be rewarding, but it should be leavened with more conventional fun.
I usually begin by walking down the cobbled Rue Mouffetard, in the tenth arrondissement. At the bottom of the street is a good food market, where Parisians buy spitroast chickens, pates and cheeses for their Sunday lunches.
The visitor can get in on the act by buying to take home, for about £5, a bottle of red wine that would go for twice that in Britain.
At number 116 there is also a cafe called simply Mouffetard, which, according to my wife, who lived for a year just around the corner, sells the best cafe au lait in Paris.
And at Number 118 there's one of the most fascinatingly primitive bar tabacs in Paris, full of Frenchmen having a morning Gauloise and a glass of Sancerre, a spectacle I like to watch rather than emulate. (As I look on, I try to picture what state these men will be in at 10pm.)
At about 11am, the priest opens the doors of the Eglise St Medard at the foot of Rue Mouffetard, and the congregants spill straight into the market.
Travel Guide: Paris
The lesser-known flea markets of Paris
From the Mail on Sunday
To most people, 'Paris flea market' is synonymous with the famous Puces de Clignancourt, where dealers started to congregate in the Twenties and now number 1,800. If a flea market means, however, a place to hunt for inexpensive, if slightly battered, treasures, Clignancourt no longer fits the bill.
How could it when so many stands sell such items as Russian icons, Louis Vuitton trunks and museum-quality furniture? On a recent shopping weekend, therefore, I decided to investigate some lesser-known spots.
Value for money began with my accommodation. I faxed my dates, price range and preferred neighbourhood to Good Morning Paris, which arranges bed and breakfast accommodation in people's homes.
A few hours later they sent back a fax with descriptions of three homes, including the hosts' fluency in English. I boldly ticked the one where no English was spoken. If nothing else, I would at least return with improved French.
Friday. I arrived at the apartment of M and Mme Drouet, near the Gare Montparnasse - a good choice, it turned out. For about £25 a night I had a large, pretty double room, with en suite bathroom.
Ready for a little gentle sightseeing before the weekend's hard bargaining, I asked the Drouets for a suggestion. They recommended the Musee Bourdelle, less than ten minutes' walk away. I knew the French were broad-minded, but a museum of whorehouses?
No, no, they said, giggling, 'Bourdelle', not 'bordel'. The museum was an attractive gallery of the late 19th Century sculptor's works, built on to his studio, and was a very pleasant place to pass a few hours.
On my return to the flat, I got in some more French practice by watching a subtitled episode of Absolutely Fabulous. 'Qu'elle a de grands lolos!' Patsy remarks on seeing Saffy in a bathing suit, the slang derived from the best-known attributes of Gina Lollobrigida.
For dinner, the Drouets pointed me to a nearby street of creperies. 'This is a Breton neighbourhood,' they explained, 'because trains from Brittany go to the Gare Montparnasse.'
Saturday. M Drouet served breakfast (croissants, orange juice and coffee that would revive a corpse), and sent me off to the Porte de Vanves, with orders to bargain as hard as I could.
Travel Guide: Paris
The capital of choc chic
The French may not be the undisputed kings of high fashion. Their language is no longer the language of diplomacy, and their wine has lost ground to the New World.
But when it comes to chocolate, there is no doubt who still rules the roost.
To say that they take chocolate seriously is an understatement.
Students at the Universite du Chocolat attend highbrow lectures on the history and science of this magical foodstuff. French chocolate fan-clubs are so exclusive as to resemble secret societies.
The Club des Croqueurs du Chocolat meets once a month in an atmosphere of the highest intellectual solemnity, while the Club de Chocolat des Palais admits only high-ranking civil servants, politicians and lawyers to its ranks.
And, once a year in autumn, Paris hosts the Salon du Chocolat, a five-day orgy disguised as a trade fair at which more than 150 of the world's greatest chocolate makers show off their creations.
There are tastings, workshops, demonstrations and lectures of all sorts, not to mention an event that has captured the attention of the world's media - the famous catwalk fashion show with models clad in chocolate gowns, sporting chocolate hats and clutching chocolate handbags.
Travel Guide: Paris
A peak at Paris's chic streets
Once a giant swampland, the Marais is today one of the most stylish and sophisticated quarters in Paris.
Due in no small part to its large gay community, the area, which covers parts of the 3rd and 4th arrondissements, has undergone a resurgence in recent years and is now dotted with numerous sumptuous boutiques, swanky bars and designer hotels.
After possibly the most hectic couple of days of our lives (our wedding weekend), the reclining chairs of Eurostar club-class had come as a welcome relief and we arrived at our hotel feeling almost human again.
Formerly a bakery, the Hotel du Petit Moulin has received the full makeover treatment from none other than French designer Christian Lacroix. The original boulangerie facade remains but behind it the interior is full of his trademark bright colours and heavy fabrics.
This was nowhere more evident than in our beautifully furnished but radiantly red bedroom. In contrast, the walls of our minimalist bathroom were lined with the black tiles used in Paris's underground, the Metro.
Despite it being our honeymoon, we hadn't come to this romantic city simply to stay in the hotel for two days, so we ventured out into the rain for a coffee at the local cafe before heading to the perfect wet-weather venue, the Louvre.
Arguably the most famous museum in the world, it would take you weeks to explore all of this vast former fortress and palace of kings. We had one afternoon and thus headed straight for the big draws - namely, the Mona Lisa (small) and the Venus de Milo (impressive) before ambling for a couple of hours around one small wing.
As the weather had improved, we decided to stroll back to the Marais. Paris is definitely a city for strolling. There's so much to see and take in, you have to take things slowly, and whenever you're in need of some light refreshment, a streetside cafe is never far away.
As the evening drew in, we watched the world go by over a beer and some nibbles before enjoying some classically gallic cuisine at a local eaterie and a couple of cocktails in a plush, Moroccan-themed bar.
The next morning, we rose earlyish and ventured north to Paris's art quarter, Montmartre. Although a little touristy, it's still a hotbed of inspiration for local artists, many of whom show their wares in the main square.
A little known treasure in Montmartre's back streets is the Salvador Dali Museum where you'll find a small collection of the great artist's sculptures, paintings and sketches. These include some original drawings he did for a special edition of Lewis Carroll's Alice In Wonderland.
For fans of the film Amelie, Montmartre is also home to Sacre Coeur, the white-domed basilica perched high on the hill overlooking Paris. If you're feeling fit, the reward for the long climb (avoiding the hawkers) up to the church's entrance is a panoramic view of the entire city. You can even climb up into the church's dome.
Replenished by a cafe au lait and a croissant, we hopped onto the Metro for the Ile de la Cite, home to the world-famous Notre Dame cathedral. On our previous visit to France's capital the building had been more or less completely covered by scaffolding due to restoration work, so it was a relief to find we had a full and spectacular view of this amazing piece of gothic architecture.
There's often a long wait for those wishing to view the interior, but far fewer tourists (judging by the tiny queue) seem to realise that you can get the full Quasimodo experience by climbing to the top of the cathedral's iconic bell towers.
It's not an easy ascent but a small exhibition room halfway up gives you some of the history of Victor Hugo's classic novel The Hunchback Of Notre-Dame and the views down the Seine from the rooftop are superb.
Another unique way to view the city is by boat. Companies dot the riverbanks and you'll never have to wait more than an hour for the next guided cruise. Most guides speak English, but check first as their proficiency is occasionally exaggerated.
If the weather's nice, it's an excellent and relaxing way to spend an hour and if you really want to splash out, you can return in the evening for a longer cruise and a five-course meal. A word of warning though - it's not cheap.
We decided however to continue enjoying what we like doing best in Paris - and set off once again, ice-cream in hand, for the bars and restaurants of the Marais.
- Eurostar return fares to Paris start from £59 per person. Tel: 08705 186186. Or see eurostar.com
Feeling inspired? Then book a holiday.
Travel Guide: Paris
Paris is easy to explore by metro
We went to Paris for our 30th wedding anniversary travelling by by Eurostar from Ashford and staying in a three-star hotel near the Eiffel Tower. What a city!
I would suggest anyone wanting to visit Paris goes by Eurostar; not the quickest way to get there but the most convenient. It delivers you to the centre of the city in next to no time.
The Metro is the best way of getting about; it is not difficult to work out which line goes where.
I suggest you buy a pass for the Metro before you go as it is cheaper and saves oceans of queing time whilst you are there.
Take a tour of the city on one of the open top buses. Do it after you have settled into your hotel. It gives you all the bearings you will need for getting about on foot which is often the quickest way of getting round the main tourist sites located within easy reach of each other. We saw as much as we could in five days, but could find plenty more to see if we had had more time.
A trip on a bateau on the Seine is also a must-do. In addition to the Eiffel Tower, go and see the Arc de Triomph; Notre Dame and Sacre Coeur.
Travel Guide: Paris
Paris high life
From the Mail on Sunday
Ask any typical Parisian when they last went up the top of a landmark like the Eiffel Tower or the Arc de Triomphe, and most will reply 'never', 'when I was a child', or 'when I last had visiting relatives up from the countryside'. Living somewhere as architecturally beautiful as Paris, it is easy to lose the scale of the city itself, which equally many tourists do, as they end up slogging round from one sight to another.
But there are a wealth of opportunities, dotted all over the City of Light, where you can rise up above the daily grind and take in the spectacular panorama of one of the few capitals of Europe whose skyline has not been destroyed by stark, modern, high-rise buildings.
Be it in a hotel, a museum or a department store, in a penthouse restaurant or a rooftop bar, there is nothing so romantic as to sit and relax while the sun sets over the glowing roofs of Paris, twilight turns to night and hundreds of thousands of tiny lights illuminate the city sprawled out below.
This could mean spending a small fortune for a candlelit dinner in La Tour d'Argent or just the price of a cup of coffee atop the Tour Montparnasse. From each different neighbourhood you see the city from a new angle, in another light. There are dozens of possibilities, but here is a selection that mixes the 'not to be missed' classics with some more off-beat venues:
Eiffel Tower - Just because it is the most cliched spot in town shouldn't detract from the charm of this eccentric metallic monument, nor the superb views. In the chic Jules Verne restaurant there is now an excellent Michelin-rated chef, Alan Reix, and, although the decor is a little passe, it is fun to look down through the criss-cross of iron girders to tourists one floor below.
Book well in advance. An evening menu runs to 680 francs (£68). Much cheaper, in a wittily designed brasserie resembling the interior of a Zeppelin, is Altitude 95 on the first floor. Jules Verne, Tour Eiffel, Champs de Mars, Paris 75007, tel: 01 45 55 61 44. Altitude 95, Tel: 00 33 1 45 55 00 21.
La Samaritaine - Smack in the middle of the Rue de Rivoli, the Samaritaine is the favourite department store of Parisians, and delightfully free from the crowds of Japanese who throng the more internationally known Galeries Lafayette and Printemps. The fabulous Art Deco interiors are worth a visit on their own, but few shoppers realise there is a wonderfully cheap, self-service cafe hidden away on the roof.
The splendid views take in the Pont Neuf and the horrid Sixties architecture of Les Halles compared to the grand medieval Conciergerie. A croque monsieur, salad and coffee costs less than 50 francs. La Samaritaine, 19 Rue de la Monnaie, 75001 Paris, Tel: 00 33 1 40 41 20 20.
Travel Guide: Paris
One more for the boulevard
My offer to take my old friend, actress Gina Bellman, on a search for the perfect Parisian bar was not perhaps such an inviting proposition as it sounded.
After all, isn't it famously difficult to have a good night out in Paris?
Do you not have to wear the right outfit, speak impeccable French, and not only smoke but smoke the right brand of tobacco? And even then the barman will be rude and snub you just because he knows that you are not a local.
Gina, however, is persistent. She has spent the past month criss-crossing the Atlantic, filming a BBC drama in London and then being flown to meetings in LA.
She tells me that I may have been to Paris recently with my husband, but it is not just for romantics, and can't we please have some girlie time together for old-time's sake? Somehow, I find myself booking the Eurostar.
La Palette
Picture Ewan McGregor at the beginning of the film Moulin Rouge! heartbroken in his garret in St Germain. Now imagine him wandering off to find a bar to drown his sorrows. That bar would be La Palette.
As we wander enchanted around the pretty streets in St Germain, we come across it by chance and it's love at first sight.
Its walls are covered with murals of fin de siecle Paris, and are perfectly nicotine-stained as though an art director has made them that way for a film set.
But although it is more like an old-style cafe than a bar in appearance, a pastis is the drink that springs to mind, not a cafe creme.
Gina chooses a pretty table outside on the quiet street and admires the locals who frequent the place. They are pure BoBo - Bohemian Bourgeois.
They are all attractive, young, just-out-of-college actors, cinematographers and artists. We fantasise that many an art-house French film has been conceived here.
The place has such a jazzy vibe, we try to work out who are the musicians and at what point they will start jamming.
Some of the drinkers and the waiters are fun and flirty, but far too busy discussing their latest storyboard to be bothersome.
When our photographer, Paul, turns up to take some snaps, nobody is snotty; instead, they all rise to the occasion and start acting like extras in the background.
One slightly drunk woman starts berating Paul for working for money and wants to know if he ever works for nothing.
When we reluctantly leave, Paul laughs that he has never before been made to feel bad for working for a living.
Rating: 4 star. Fun, bubbly and stylish. Beer 3.50 euros (£2.40), white wine 4 euros (£2.74).
Travel Guide: Paris
Maigret's secret Paris
Paris was always my favourite city, but I couldn't put my finger on why. Then I read the Maigret novels of Georges Simenon and found they encapsulated the dreamy Paris that I loved.
The zinc-topped bars, blue-jawed toughs drinking from dainty wine glasses, Pont Neuf in the rain, that pre-dinner hour when the lights come on and everyone is mellow, yet galvanised.
The centenary of Simenon's birth is next year and Penguin is marking it by reissuing some of his novels.
He was actually born in Liege in Belgium, and the fact that he looked at Paris with the eyes of a foreigner made him extra sensitive to its charms.
Simenon was prodigious in every direction. He claimed to have had sex with 12,000 women, although his wife wearily corrected this, saying that the true figure was probably nearer 1,200.
He wrote 500 novels, including 75 featuring the stolid, pipe-smoking detective Maigret, who ate and drank a lot because, as Simenon admitted, 'so did I'.
He hated the word 'literature' but his psychological understanding and sense of place ensured he was rated by many highbrows.
The English traveller aiming to 'do' Maigret in a day can appreciate this from arrival at Gare du Nord, described in Maigret's Memories as 'the coldest, draftiest and busiest' of Paris's stations.
'In the morning the first night trains, arriving from Belgium and Germany, bring in the first load of crooks . . . with faces as hard as the light that falls through the dirty window panes.'
We now take a Metro to the heart of Maigret country: the police headquarters at 36 Quai d'Orfevres on the Isle de la Cite.
This is alongside Notre Dame cathedral, but the true Maigret aficionado will be more interested in the local restaurants.
Travel Guide: Paris
Magical Christmas
I was in Paris over Christmas and New Year. I needed to write my dissertation in Jurisprudence and have a holiday as well. I arrived by Eurostar, located basic and comfortable accommodation in "Cosy Monceau" Hotel near Villiers. I read in the morning, went for lunch locally, did sightseeing in remaining daylight, and had an evening meal on my way home.
It was perishing cold -16, so I had to put make-up on for extra warmth. Les Jardins Tuilleries's carousel is free during Christmas, which was a lovely surprise. My grandmother gave me a gift of £20, so I purchased a pink goblet vase in Montmartre and filled it with pink tulips - luxury.
I went to the Eiffel Tower on Christmas Day and had Christmas Mass in French, and on New Year's Eve I went to the Champs Elysee. I shopped for treasures for nephews in a local toy shop. A couture shop sales assistant dressed me as her "poupee" which was great fun. I also purchased some lingerie. Whilst the city was empty of people, and cold, the buildings, design, structure and Le Metro were uplifting, as was the window shopping. Bliss.
Travel Guide: Paris
Les tours de Paris
From the Mail on Sunday
Paris resident John Brunton reveals the wide range of options for visitors who want to take a tour of Paris. Over a typical weekend he tried - and judged - the usual coach trips and scenic Seine cruises as well as some of the more original options.
While navigating tree-lined canals, squeezing on to buses and trudging through 'villages' in the rain, he discovered the city offers some good-value tours that surprise even the long-term visitor.
So, take the children, pack an umbrella and a pair of walking shoes, and treat yourself to the famous, and the obscure, attractions of the French capital.
CITYRAMA
This is the classic Paris city tour, taking in pretty much every 'must see' from the Louvre to the Eiffel Tower, only missing out on the Moulin Rouge and Sacre Coeur.
Making a reservation: The telephone operator said not to bother with a reservation and gave the tour's starting times. But when I turned up, all the times had altered and I had to wait 45 minutes.
Get there early for the best view from the front seats upstairs.
Address, 4 Place des Pyramides, 75001; Metro, Palais Royal; tel (00 33) 144 556 100; duration, two hours.
Transport: The 'luxury coach' in reality has uncomfortable seats with little leg room.
Eating and drinking on board is prohibited.
Commentary: The taped commentary is quite interesting when restricted to historical facts but degenerates into cliches. After an hour, several passengers had fallen asleep.
Customer comment: 'Wish we'd never bothered - boring and expensive.'
Value for money: You certainly get to see a lot of Paris in a couple of hours, but it is seriously overpriced.
Verdict: Consider only as a last resort.
Travel Guide: Paris
Into the junkyard
About 20 years ago, we were driving out of the Cevennes on the way to Provence and stopped at an antiques shop on the outskirts of a small town.
It was full of the usual junk, including, high on the wall, what looked like a monochrome print of a pastoral scene, with a statue of the god Pan smirking down on an 18th-century nobleman pretending to show a group of laughing women how to cast a line.
The assistant got a ladder and brought it down. It was dirty and torn, but it looked like a painting to me and we bought it for very little.
Back home, cleaned and repaired, it looked beautiful, and turned out to be the work of a French artist, hung in the Louvre, who had painted it in 1830, in the style of Watteau, as a thank you to a count who'd invited him to stay.
Ever since that day, we never drive through France without stopping off at brocantes and antiquaires in the hope of striking lucky again.
We have followed signs down dusty tracks to barns where old wooden milk churns, ancient agricultural equipment and Edwardian-era crockery on rickety oak tables were guarded by families of ducks.
We have traipsed through gloomy provincial rooms, their walls hung with dusty clocks, cheap prints and faded family photographs, where the only sound was the clicking of knitting needles as Madame sat among the bricabrac, herself the only genuine antique in the place.
We have grazed through French antique fairs and stopped off at smart antique shops, fragrant with expensive furniture polish, and found almost nothing worth buying that was not well beyond our means.
It was as though locust-hordes of dealers in antiques had been there before us and carried the bargains away.
All the cream had been skimmed off - but where had it gone? Last year we discovered the answer. It ends up in the Paris flea market of St Ouen.
Travel Guide: Paris
I know this charming little place
A weekend in Paris can be spoiled by an expensively rotten night. A surly youth at the reception desk can ruin the start to your day.
If you like people, you'll want to be somewhere where you feel special. And you'll need 'insiders' to help you make the most of this great, but complex, city.
The first rule of choosing a hotel in Paris is to regard it as the crucial part of the experience. Do not think of sleeping in a chain hotel.
Old Paris hotels might have a reputation for rudeness, but at least they have not been responsible for ripping down houses and driving authenticity into retreat.
Confine your search to the small, the family-owned and the friendly. They need you and you need them. But how to find them?
A package trip won't help. Unlike the Wise Men, you would be unwise to follow the 'star'.
Most small hotels have two or three official stars. Some three-star hotels are more luxurious than four-star ones that have earned their medals by the skin of their teeth.
Keep it simple: go for a place that values a warm smile.
Like London, Paris consists of many distinct areas. None is 'wrong' and the city is so compact you can nip into the centre on the Metro or bus.
You might be itching, if you knew Paris decades ago, to be back in the Latin Quarter. Yet, so are thousands of others, so the further from the river you go, the quieter it's likely to be.
Try crossing the river to the Marais district. Its 17th and 18th-century mansions escaped the great demolition of the 19th century.
Travel Guide: Paris
How Paris stole my heart
From the Mail on Sunday
There are places I will always remember - like Australia's wildly beautiful 'top end', glamorous Sydney, exciting New York - and, of course, unsurpassable Venice. I've seen Niagara Falls frozen, dolphins swooping around a boat off Turkey, the painted monasteries of northern Romania and the mirrored interiors of Rajasthan.
But asked to choose 'my' place - the one with a very special resonance in my life - my imagination simply makes a short hop across the English Channel, jumps through northern France and skips down the Champs Elysees.
Why? Because Paris was my first ever taste of that magical realm called 'abroad'. And her beauty captured my heart forever. I reached the age of 17 and still had not left this island. Nowadays the young travel as a matter of course, whether backpacking in exotic places or a boozy, sunburnt week in Majorca. But in the mid-Sixties it wasn't that easy.
So when my schoolfriend Helen and I decided to go for two weeks on a special package to Paris, this was a very bold enterprise. After all, we were a couple of teenagers from small and boring Wiltshire towns, and to us the height of excitement was a Bath jazz club or a CND march. No wonder our friends were envious.
I can't remember how the trip was arranged. All that matters is that we took a turbo-prop plane, and clutched each other with some anxiety as it rumbled into the air. Then we were taken by coach to the Cite Universitaire, in a suburb to the south of the city, where the accommodation was student-basic but cheap. That was the deal. And Paris was at our feet.
Indeed, we used our feet a lot, since funds were so low. We walked everywhere; staring, mesmerised, into smart shop windows and desperately trying to work out the exchange rate to see if we could afford 'real Parisian' shoes. We existed on baguettes munched as we sat beside the Seine on days that were perpetually sunny - in memory, at least. This was partly to do with saving money, partly because we were frightened of speaking schoolgirl French in restaurants.
Oh, but we had fun! We 'met' (a good euphemism for 'picked up') a couple of German students, then some Austrians - and I confess the first time I was ever drunk was in Paris. Yet why not? Surely nobody young ever went there to be 'good'?
Travel Guide: Paris
Hit or miss? Paris and its pleasures
The legs felt like chutney and the mind just this side of blank. Paris in springtime, early summer - or any other season, for that matter - is a feat of physical endurance for the determined tripper.
There are monuments to climb, culture to contemplate, dinners to digest and naked women to ogle. No wonder I ended up saturated, shattered and flat on my back in a four-star hotel.
The key question is, though: was it worth it? Well, here's our verdict on eight classic Parisian sights and activities.
The overall answer, by the way, is 'yes'. These items didn't get to be classics by accident. Paris delivers. You'll be exhausted but, with one notable exception, pretty satisfied. Ratings are out of five.
Champs-Elysees: Walk the Champs-Elysees and you're walking through the grandeur of France's self-image.
Only a people convinced they're pretty marvellous could drive such a magisterial swath through the centre of their capital. 'The most beautiful avenue in the world!' they cry incessantly. Infuriatingly, they're right.
From the 20-acre Place de la Concorde - where Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette were chopped, a killer tradition maintained by contemporary motorists - the avenue processes up through wooded parkland to the commercial end.
Folk criticise the cinemas, car showrooms and cafes, but they know nothing. The place needs life, and the soaring Second Empire surroundings lend dignity even to burger bars.
And so to the Arc de Triomphe, a 50-metre high celebration of Napoleon's military successes.
Two things to note. First, it doesn't mention who finally won the Napoleonic wars: that's not the French way.
Secondly, while the Arc is stupendous from the outside, little is gained by going inside. It costs a fiver and involves 284 steps, neither of which is justified by the dusty little museum and views from the top.
RATING: 4
Travel Guide: Paris
Better make it a small one
The day started badly for Parisian cafe owner Andre Chabalier.
After going to bed the previous night about 3am, he'd woken mid-morning to an ominous registered letter announcing that his cafe rent was to be tripled.
'Tripled,' he cried. 'Tell Britain about that: then they'll stop thinking we're rolling in it.'
Andre's cafe - Le Colibri - is tucked away in a corner of Place de la Madeleine, just along from Fauchon, the Fortnum & Mason of Paris.
'Twelve thousand francs a square metre. I need first aid!' said Andre, 54. 'I'll be contesting, of course.'
In other words, cafe ownership in Paris is not all literary discussion and ripping off tourists.
The Colibri had opened that morning while Andre slept.
By 6.45am, the shutters were up and Christelle was serving the first coffees.
The premises wouldn't close until after two the following morning, when the last night-folk had left.
In the intervening 19ΒΌ hours, the cafe needed to generate almost £2,500 to stay afloat, keeping 11 staff, plus Andre and wife Denise, in earnings.
Given that most of the 400 customers were dashing in for a 70p coffee, it was not a battle won in advance.
Travel Guide: Paris
The Gaul's favourite day out
From the Mail on Sunday
My family was keen on a trip to Parc Asterix - the 100 per cent French theme park where all self-respecting Parisians take their children in the school holidays.
I had niggling doubts. Wasn't Asterix a bit dated? This comic character was hurtling out of fashion when I was a child.
Not surprisingly, therefore, Parc Asterix has never attracted more than a trickle of English visitors.
But it's all very different in France. Parc Asterix, 19 miles north of Paris, is a national institution and the French flock there, proud that it is an all-Gaul affair.
British theme parks tend mostly to be geared towards teenagers.
Parc Asterix is different. While it has all the obligatory stomach-churning rides, there are lots of attractions for toddlers and their older siblings.
There are merry-go-rounds, little child-friendly boat rides, slides, climbing frames and an up-in-the-trees monorail.
All were popular with our two girls. Obelix's giant bed kept them occupied for ages, and they loved the distorting mirrors.
Heloise, who is three, enjoyed the giant slide made of rollers. Madeleine, five, liked the swimming pool covered with thick plastic tarpaulin. Jump up and down and it wobbled and wibbled, sending everyone into a jelly-style collapse.
The relevance to Asterix is not always apparent. Although his figure is everywhere, and there are plenty of wonky Roman buildings dotted around the park, you sometimes forget that the place is dedicated to the comic character.
In the afternoon there was the dolphin spectacular - an exhilarating performance of dancing, leaping, acrobatic dolphins, set in a giant-sized pool built around a Greek-style amphitheatre.
My only criticism of Parc Asterix was the food - as dreary as at any theme park in Britain.
Travel facts Parc Asterix (00 33 344 62 34 04, www.parcasterix.com) is open every day in July and August and most weekends in September.
Travel Guide: Paris
A tour around Chanel's Paris? I should Coco
When hotels tell us that they want to add a little extra to our holiday, one suspects that their real intention is to add something substantial to our bill (wouldn't it be nice if hotel beds were as well padded as their final invoices?).
But these are straitened times for upmarket hotels - especially those in Paris that normally depend on the lavish patronage of affluent Americans.
To compensate for the absent Yanks, hotels in the French capital have had to come up with new ways to attract business. It's an ill wind that has blown us a bonus: hotel prices are being trimmed and special treats are being arranged.
The illustrious Hotel de Crillon, situated in arguably the best location in Paris on Place de la Concorde, has devised some of the most alluring treats for guests.
General manager Philippe Krenzer says that the hotel has decided to use its upmarket connections to open doors for its clients. 'We can let our guests really enjoy some of the hidden pleasures of the city - we have some wonderful surprises.'
For our surprise we are invited to be in the Crillon's grand marbled reception hall at 2pm. Waiting for us is Carla, one of the hotel's team of 'angels'.
'This is a very special treat,' she said, almost bouncing with excitement. 'We are going to visit Coco Chanel's private apartment - it is not open to the public, very few people have the chance to enter it.'
The apartment, it seems, was the nerve centre of the fashion designer's retail business. Coco Chanel took over the six-storey property at 31 Rue du Cambon in 1920 and remained there for 50 years until her death in 1971 at the age of 87.
In those 50 years, Gabrielle 'Coco' Chanel, who had been abandoned as a girl by her father in a small town orphanage, single-handedly transformed 20th Century fashion.
From the trademark Chanel suits and the simple black dress to her invention of the shoulder bag and, of course, Chanel No 5 perfume - this remarkable woman always led the way.
Travel Guide: Paris
A slice of Parisian luxury
From the Daily Mail
What's it to be, then?' asked the woman in Place Vendome of her friend. Like us, they had their noses pressed to the window of a leading Parisian jeweller. 'Nope,' replied her companion, dismissing a diamond-studded display, worth several small sheikhdoms. 'If I tell my husband I fancy anything, he'll just say: "Go ahead and get it."'
As I prepared a look of mingled disbelief, scorn and pity, calculated to root her to one of the most exclusive stretches of pavement in the world, I realised we could be playing the same game. Make-believe is in the very air of Paris. Ten minutes earlier, we had been lunching on the Place de la Madeleine, at the restaurant in Hediard, one of the most sumptuously stocked groceries in the world.
What, I wondered, would it be like to shop at Hediard every day, among towers of golden tea caddies and the seductive aromas of roasting coffee, pepper from Sarawak and chocolate of sinful blackness? Would I go for the wild mushrooms or chestnuts, the figs so temptingly presented in baskets of fresh leaves? In short, how would it feel to live here, however temporarily?
This wishful thinking had been brought on by a weekend sampling the Paris Residence, the French capital's first city centre time-ownership property. The Paris Residence looks like a small luxury hotel or a discreet London club. You can stay here on that basis, but there is no dining room and no self-catering either, unless you count lifting a phone to order 24-hour room service.
A gilded birdcage of a lift creaked me to the mini-suite, its view over the chic Rue de Berri framed in yellow silk curtains to match the canopied bed. I found a CD and mini-disc player in one cupboard, fresh grapes in the fridge. Sunk in the whirlpool bath, glass of bubbly in hand, I convinced myself with ease that Paris was where we belonged.
The friendly, young staff, mainly Scots, were eager to share ideas about local shopping, sightseeing or eateries where they had taken their mums.
Travel Guide: Paris
The ghosts of old Paris
From the Mail on Sunday
My mother was incredulous: 'I've never heard of Jim Morrison - who was he?' She was standing by the information board at the entrance to Pere Lachaise cemetery. It was the first stop on a weekend tour on which I wanted to show my parents some 'alternative' attractions of Paris.
The cemetery's information board indicated the locations of the final resting places of the great and the good - Maria Callas, Bizet, Moliere, Edith Piaf, Yves Montand . . . dozens of them.
But the streams of visitors were searching the map for only one name: Jim Morrison. After five minutes by the board my mother was able to point out his tomb's location to grateful Swedes, Lithuanians and Brazilians.
'But I've never heard of him,' persisted my mother: 'What's he known for?' 'Light My Fire is probably his best known work, with The Doors,' I explained. But this didn't ring any bells. Finding the grave wasn't hard: just follow the crowds to where they mill around under a haze of sweet-smelling smoke watched by three cemetery policemen with irritated glares.
It is not clear why a rock singer dead for 30 years continues to exert such a fascination, but his tomb is now reckoned to be Paris's third most popular tourist attraction after the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre.
On our way to Wilde's tomb (a wonderful Epstein creation, but then the whole cemetery is terrific) my mother wondered if some of the Morrison crowd might have been smoking 'pot'.
The only drug possibly being abused by visitors to Monet's garden is Phyllosan (visitors' average age must be about 85). The gardens in Giverny, about an hour's drive up the Normandy autoroute from Paris, are as wonderful as Monet's series of paintings of waterlilies and other scenes suggest.
As a visitor attraction, however, it is poorly managed. There is no attempt to limit numbers, so, unless you arrive at opening time, you'll find yourself battling for a view with 50 coach parties of Americans and Japanese.
'How d'ya say it,' one confused visitor quizzed his guide: 'Monet or Manet?' The guide narrowed her eyes: 'Manet? Manet was another painter completely.' The confused visitor was unabashed: 'So where are his gardens?'
Travel Guide: Paris
How to find the boat train to Paris
At Cannon Street station in London there's an obscure doorway. Next to it is a bell. If you press this you are summoned up to a concrete walkway where you get lost for a while until you glimpse a little office.
It's fitting that the office is out of the way, for it's the source of a very unusual kind of ticket: a ticket for a boat train.
Once the words 'boat' and 'train' were easy companions. In 1939, Britain's railway companies operated 164 vessels.
Maybe terror in the skies will bring about a revival of British boat trains, but for the moment we're down to one.
The term 'boat train' was always associated with crossing the Channel, and the only service remaining with any echo of the old glamour is the 7am from Charing Cross. Officially, it is merely the recommended train for getting to Paris by train and boat, because no trains today are timetabled to connect with cross-Channel boats.
It just happens, by pure coincidence, that things link up pretty smoothly if you catch the 7.00, and you can be in Paris in time for a bath, a cocktail and a good dinner, all of which, frankly, you will need after your 10 hour journey.
There again, you will be able to afford them, for the second class return ticket from Charing Cross to Gare du Nord costs a hilarious £49, one sixth of the fully flexible Eurostar fare of £298.
The 07.00 runs every weekday. One of its attractions is that it's unlikely to be targeted by Osama bin Laden; by the same token, though, most of the staff at Charing Cross don't know that it's the recommended train for Paris either.
As far as they're concerned, it's just another knackered slam door train dividing at Tonbridge, the back half going to Canterbury, the front to Dover and other bits of the South Coast.
The Golden Arrow was the second most glamorous boat train. Between 1929 and 1972 it ran every day from Victoria to a station called Dover Marine, where it connected with a ferry; passengers continued on from Calais to Paris via the Arrow's French counterpart, the Fleche d'Or.
The carriages looked similar to a compressed version of the Royal Opera House: on the front of the engine, besides the two flags, was a noble arrow of the sort fired by Robin Hood.
There was nothing on the front of the 07.00, of course, except a lot of dirt, so I trudged to my seat. There was one other person in the carriage, a glum businessman sipping coffee from a plastic cup.
It would have been so different on the Golden Arrow; and even more different on the Night Ferry.
Travel Guide: Paris
Disney in Paris
Disneyland Resort Paris is Europe's number one tourist attraction - last year visited by more than 12 million people.
This year it marks its 10th anniversary with the opening of a second park right next door to the first park (now known as Disneyland Park).
The new Walt Disney Studios has rides and attractions connected with movie-making.
With the opening nearby of a huge new shopping mall and the La Vallee factory outlet centre, Disneyland has altered its name to 'resort' to stress that it has become more than a simple theme park.
It now offers, it suggests, enough to bring people to stay for three nights or more (at the moment most people stay an average of two nights).
So is the new park worth a visit? Is Disneyland Resort Paris worth a three night stay? Which are the best rides? Where should you stay? This is our concise guide.
"I don't like theme parks and I don't like Disney"
Despite the fact that Britain is the biggest overseas market for the Paris attraction - 18 per cent of visitors are British, compared with just 8 per cent Germans - we tend to be the most cynical.
There is noticeable middle-class scepticism about what is seen to be Disney's ubiquitous slick marketing to children, a feeling that the theme parks are simply a glib rip-off.
While Disney undoubtedly makes a fortune out of selling films, TV, theme parks and associated merchandise to children, this doesn't alter the fact that most of what it sells is actually pretty good.
This certainly applies to its theme parks. If you've never visited Disney - and you don't allow your children to visit - you are denying yourselves one of the great family experiences. It is great fun and something you will all remember for a long time.
Travel Guide: Paris
Can you survive a Minnie break?
From the Daily Mail
The argument was about when to set the alarm clock. I said we should be packed and ready to leave the campsite at 5.30am. My wife disagreed.
Her view was that I should calm down; that we should get up and have breakfast as normal, then pack the car and leave at about 10am.
It was the end of our camping holiday in the South of France (absolutely sodden, since you ask) and we had decided to drive back via Disneyland Paris, where we were to spend two nights before returning to England.
Patiently, I explained to Rose that if we left the camp site before dawn, we could be at Disneyland by lunchtime - and so make full use of an extra afternoon and evening in the theme park. She insisted such a start would exhaust the children, but I refused to back down.
So, in teeming rain, at 5am the next day the children were moved in their pyjamas to the car - where they promptly started twittering with an excitement that might just be matched if they came face to face with Father Christmas on Christmas Day.
It was relentless chatter that lasted about three hours, until, after a messy in-car breakfast (peaches, salami, croissants) they dozed off.
Only to wake again when I stopped for diesel half an hour later, covered in crumbs and peach juice.
We arrived sticky and shattered in pristine Disneyland after a good six hours in the car, our eyes spinning rather like those of the hypnotic snake Ka in the cartoon film The Jungle Book.
This time the gleaming spires on the horizon weren't those of a medieval chateau; they belonged to Sleeping Beauty's castle - 'in true life', as Chloe, our three-year-old, informed us.
In the lobby of the Hotel New York, we bumped into Minnie Mouse, and the children's eyes, already distended from the long journey and lack of sleep, widened further until they were almost the size of their heroine's.
Travel Guide: Paris
Disneyland Paris for the under-threes
When EuroDisney opened nearly 10 years ago, it was scorned as a failure - people said it couldn't work outside the US, the weather was too poor, it was expensive and the staff were rude.
Now the name has changed to Disneyland Paris and, when I visited on a wet weekend in December, it was much more popular than Oxford Street.
More than 12 million visitors a year pile in, including nearly two million Brits.
The crowds were heaving and there were lots of small children - but how young is too young for Disney?
Children under three are not too young for Disneyland Paris. The characters can be a bit daunting at first and create a few tears, but they are soon greeted with wide-eyed wonder.
Small children love the rides, especially in Fantasyland, aimed at the younger visitors, and, as they can't read a map, they don't know what they're missing if you walk past a ride that is over-popular.
You can hire a buggy from £4 a day or bring your own - there are buggy parks by the rides.
The Disney hotels don't have a listening service but do offer rather expensive babysitting - a minimum of £20 for three hours rising to £35 after 11pm. However children are allowed in all the bars and restaurants and high chairs are readily available so most parents tend to take their little ones out with them - not always a relaxing pleasure.
Cots are provided free and the Disney hotel rooms have two big beds. Unfortunately the rooms are not totally child-friendly - they can easily empty the minibar or stick fingers in sockets.
And the hotels are starting to show a little wear and tear round the edges - children's scribble on the furniture and tears in the wallpaper.
In the park, there is a system where parents can take it in turns on rides unsuitable for small children so you don't have to miss out and all rides are graded according to the appropriate age group.
You can also use the free fast-pass system to "book" a place on popular rides, but it might mean coming back some hours later.
Three-year-old Paige had to wait five hours for a pass for the Peter Pan ride, but squeezed it in before she had to catch the train home and felt the wait was worth it.
The good points about Disneyland Paris are that it's only three hours away by Eurostar from London and under-threes are free on the train and in the park. However they don't get their own seat on the train, which can be a struggle but the train has a creche-like atmosphere so it helps to be sociable.
Travel Guide: Paris
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Assured that our horses were obedient and well trained, we set off along the sunny, grassy path. Unfortunately the grass was our downfall. It appeared there was nothing getting between a horse that had been stabled for several long winter months and the sweet, juicy grass growing in abundance along the roadside. My pony practically yanked me over his head in his greedy dash for a mouthful of weed.
It wasn't until we reached the mulchy, muddy paths of forest that the horses finally started behaving and, confidence restored we went along with our instructor's breezy: "Let's gallop!". For about three seconds anyway. All hell broke loose as Laura head-butted her horse (or was it the other way round?) and my horse inexplicably turned sharply into a tree catapulting me forward and leaving me dangling by a mane hair from its neck. I knew I hated horses.
As it was such a clear and sunny day we decided to take our hot air balloon ride after horse riding and while some of us had left our fears behind at the stables others could barely peer over the side of the basket to admire the magnificent views of medieval Vezelay and its Saint Madeleine Basilica, a major pilgrimage site dating back to the 9th century.
The patchwork of surrounding fields were dotted with grazing Charolais cattle and the manicured lawns of ancient chateaux. We spotted several deer and even a wild boar as we glided quietly over the hills and valleys of the Yonne region.
Landing next to a nearby chateau, we had a drop of local bubbly, this time quelling our fears for our next expedition. Yes, not only was I attempting rock climbing for the first time, but I was trying it at night, in the dark. Hm. I gulped the champers quickly.
Half an hour later we parked at an ancient quarry, one of many in the area that were used to provide the stone for such grand monuments as the Palace of Versailles and the Statue of Liberty. Now the disused quarry had been converted into a rock climbing school with a series of death slides, rope bridges and metal rods drilled into the rock walls to create a rocky, outdoor climbing frame.
It was Touching the Void and Cliffhanger all rolled into one. Once I'd mastered the annoying but vitally important clipping and unclipping of the safety harness to the safety ropes around the course, I thought I was doing well.
Although once we'd got round the course and negotiated the smaller rope bridge to get to the top of the death slide, everyone was discussing the bat cave that we'd squeezed past. I hadn't noticed a single bat squeak. Obviously I'd been concentrating far harder on not slipping off the side of the rock than I'd realised.
It wasn't until we were sitting around a camp fire knocking back yet more local wine and eating a hearty barbeque meal that my shoulders finally relaxed.
During the long, painful days that followed, when even breathing hurt, I came to the conclusion that perhaps I'm more of an action film voyeur than a participant. In the future I might leave the hard stuff to Tom.
For more information on France, visit www.franceguide.com and for Burgundy, www.burgundy-tourism.com. You can find out more information about holidaying in France by calling 09068 244 123 (calls charged at 60p/min) or email info.uk@franceguide.com.
Train fares from London to Dijon start at £79 return, standard-class. New for 2006 is the France Railpass, a rail rover ticket offering unlimited travel at economy rates. For more information or to book visit www.raileurope.co.uk or call 08705 848 848, or call in at the Travel Centre, 178, Piccadilly, London W1.
Six pygmy ponies led by topless clown dancers
At £53 a pop, with dinner or champagne depending on the show time, tickets at the Moulin Rouge are steep.
Being cabaret, the entertainment is a mishmash — songs, dance routines, a contortionist act, a two-man acrobatic team, and a woman who swims in a tank with writhing pythons.
The biggest applause went to a funny ventriloquist, who pulled tourists from the audience for a hilarious finale.
Six pygmy ponies led by topless dancers dressed as clowns were among the weirder visions.
A talking dog act using a live animal left you guessing for ages how it was done, and whether the pooch was actually real — until he trotted off.
Gloria Gaynor's I Will Survive is in the show too, sung in English. All but two songs and all narration in the show are sung in French.
Once you succumb to the cheesiness (there's lots of leather-studded gear and cut-away outfits) and earnest music, the French show is engaging.
The troupe is highly talented, the routines are flawless and smiles never slip from their faces, unless they're meant to, in certain romantic scenes.
In fact, it's almost bland. The girls resemble Stepford Wives on stage and the men are Barbie's Ken come to life.
The Moulin Rouge has been packing in audiences since 1889 and judging by the crowds of tourists who were there last week, it will do so still.
Go with a tongue-in-cheek attitude and you won't be disappointed. If you want grit and passion, splash out on the musical Chicago playing down the road.
- Saga, in association with Travelscene, has two-nights' B&B from £274 at Hotel Regina, centrally located facing the Louvre art gallery and Tuileries Gardens. Prices include return travel on Eurostar. Call 0800 096 0074 for details. Visit www.moulinrouge.fr for more about the venue.
Lots of fun for everyone
Hundreds of eager customers were waiting to get in and try the rides out when the doors officially opened last Saturday.
First impressions were positive. Anne-Marie Mannix had travelled with a party of 18 from Limerick to celebrate her birthday, and was very impressed.
"I love the escapism. I have quite a stressful job so it's great to escape from it all," she said.
Some of the famous faces invited to be among the first to sample the new Walt Disney studios were Carol Smillie, Ian Wright, Cliff Richard and Meg Mathews - ex-wife of Noel Gallagher.
Meg took her two-year-old daughter Anais on Aladdin's flying carpet ride and said it was "absolutely fantastic".
But the new park is aimed at a slightly older age group than Disneyland Paris next door.
"Disneyland Paris appeals more to the three to nine year olds whereas the new park is more for eight to 15 year olds," added Jo.
"In Walt Disney Studios the shows are around 20-40 minutes long and there are 10 attractions," she says.
Pearl and Daron Avery didn't think their children, five-year-old Beth and Isabella, seven, were too young but Beth was scared on the Tram Tour.
Three new hotels coming soon to the Paris resort will cope with an expected five million extra visitors a year.
The hotels, including one owned by Airtours, are due to open by next year and will include shuttle buses to take guests to the two parks.
Tomorrow Teletext will feature a personal review of the new park with a lowdown on all the rides, plus tips for visitors to Walt Disney Studios.
It'll be a hit - in time
The only real working part of the new theme park is a tour of the Disney Television Studios. No thrills there.
Disney boss Michael Eisner said at the opening that the park would never be completed. It has plans to add more attractions but all are a state secret.
However, there is a disguised building plot in the centre of the park which is rumoured to be saved for a Tower of Terror ride - a hit in the US.
Disney has made big efforts to improve catering and has succeeded to a certain extent. All outlets are self-service to speed things up and cut prices.
Food ranges from dismal pizza to a very good sandwich and quiche selection in the well-themed Backlot Express.
The park is just yards away from other eateries in Disney Village and a longish walk from the hotels. But nothing is too far away from anything.
Guests enter the park through Studio One - a fake film set full of shops and eateries which sets the scene for the park and will always be crowded.
As ever, the finishing touches are great and the park will undoubtedly be a hit, in time. But it is small and needs more rides.
Top tips are to check the times of shows and plan your day around them. Use free fast passes to avoid queues.
Tip: Eat early for a relaxed meal. There are lots of places to sit outside to eat and have a rest.
Tip: It's a good park to sit and relax and watch the street entertainers. Keep a camera handy.
A two-night, three-day break in a Disney hotel travelling by Eurostar with tickets to both parks in April is £255 for adults and £123 for children. Call 08705 030303 for details.
Champagne in the sunshine
It wasn't long before we were heading across town to the second centre, clustered around the McArthur Glen shopping village. McArthur Glen has setups across the U.S. and the UK. Troyes was its first venture into continental Europe and, frankly, it has added a bit of class to factory shopping.
Instead of a tangle of warehouses, it is styled as a High Street (though neater than any I know) whose 80 stores aren't even called factory shops - they're 'designer outlets'. That's apparently how you tempt Versace, Armani and Ralph Lauren on to the team.
It also offers extra discounts for foreign visitors. You present yourself at reception, prove you're British (or, indeed, Russian) and receive a thick wad of money-off vouchers unavailable to French folk. This is somehow profoundly pleasing.
By the time we returned to our hotel, I was in a catatonic trance - but, and this is the point, it had been worth it. In a day, we'd clothed the family ('For a year,' said my wife. 'For a decade,' I corrected) and bought future presents for everyone we know and quite a few we don't. So we set off for dinner weary but in good spirits.
Once the shopping's done and you've hung up the credit card, then comes the good bit: Troyes itself. Winding streets, half-timbered buildings, unexpected little squares - the wandering is wonderful and, as you're in the south of the Champagne region, fuelled on bubbles.
The day after our shopping marathon, we strolled along tiny streets, under wooden galleries and past buildings largely unchanged since the great fire of 1524, stopping only to eat and drink some more in the early spring sunshine. It was about as good as a day can get, made even better knowing that a tough job had been well done the day before.
Towering Eiffel
As with any major city, evening entertainment in central Paris seem to centre mainly around bars and clubs.
Instead, it's worth catching a glimpse of the city's famous landmark, the Eiffel Tower, by night, and soaking up real Parisien atmosphere.
A quick £4 taxi ride gets you there from Hotel Westminster. By night, it's lit with an orange glow and the lift carries tourists until 11pm in summer.
At £270 per night, the Hotel Westminster - my overnight base in Paris - was suitable for a special treat, but a bit pricey otherwise.
Food at the hotel's Le Celadon restaurant was lovely. The menu, however, was completely in French and I wished I'd brushed up on vocabulary.
A major plus was the hotel's central location - the Metro Tuileries stop was around the corner, ideal for day tours.
Hotel Westminster's lavish red and gold interior and rich rugs ooze elegance - but a night costs nearly £300.
Rooms come with a full breakfast, chauffeur car from Gare du Nord station, half a bottle of bubbly, a day's museum pass and a 10% discount at Galeries Lafayette. Eurostar fares are not included.
One-night packages at the hotel cost from £270 per person, year round.
An abiding love affair with the city
These must be among the most fashionable streets in the world: not only do some of the shop windows fail to display price labels, some don't even display clothes either. In such an environment it would have been tempting for the Lutetia to go the way of modern hotels and spend its restyling cash on identikit rooms, soulless dining areas and airport-style bars. Instead they called in designer Sonia Rykiel, instructed her to come up with something which offered individuality, style and culture - and left her to it.
Now, the refurbishment of the building - a hotel since 1910 - is complete. The public areas are dominated by art deco furniture, Cesar, Arman and Takis statues and Lalique chandeliers. Live jazz is played in the bar in the evening and the main restaurant boasts a Michelin star. Breakfast is served not in some anonymous hotel dining room, but among the gleaming zinc of the hotel's own street-side brasserie looking out on the Rue de Sevres. If all that doesn't convince you that you are in Paris then nothing will.
It may be a deliberate attempt to recreate a Left Bank that has largely disappeared, but isn't that what everyone wants from Paris? More than 20 years ago an advertising campaign captured exactly our feelings, with the slogan 'Everyone loves two cities. Their own and Paris.' Never a truer word was spoken in advertising (unless you live in Coventry, in which case you can trim the list to just one city). No one ever forgets their first visit and, once they've been, they invariably go back.
Of course, much has changed since that commercial. For a start, travelling to Paris is so much faster now than it used to be. All those years ago you could spend a day crossing the Channel, or you could - just as you can today - spend an inordinate length of time getting to the airport, wait until your delayed flight left and then pitch up at another airport miles from Paris.
Now, you just get on the Eurostar at Waterloo. Three hours later you get off at the Gare du Nord. It's so simple it's a wonder no one thought of it before. The trouble is that when you arrive in Paris you find that much of the city you were expecting no longer exists. Of course, all cities change and not all change is for the worse.
The relatively new (in museum terms) Musee D'Orsay deserves its reputation as one of the best art galleries in the world; the Pompidou Centre is as idiosyncratic and appealing as ever; the Louvre and its pyramid has a modern and efficient feel to it, even if the sheer size of its galleries still overwhelm and the Mona Lisa still underwhelms.
Notre Dame still looks beautiful at night; couples really do stroll by the Seine; the Sacre Coeur still offers the best view of the city and the cramped squares of Montmartre still offer easel space to some of the worst pavement artists in the world.
The Pigalle is still busy, noisy, dirty and sleazy - just as it should be. The metro remains the best way to get around, despite having stations which appear to be spaced about five yards apart and the waiters are still in a league of their own when it comes to looking extraordinarily busy without actually serving anyone. All the charm, elegance and beauty of a great city is still there - it's just that times change, that's all.
Grotto-like place
In his book, The Streets Of Paris, the historian and Francophile Richard Cobb refers to going from church to buy cakes for lunch, 'wrapped up and tied with golden string', as the essence of a Parisian Sunday.
Next I would head towards the Seine, and the vicinity of the Ile de la Cite, where much of the Sunday action takes place.
Opposite Notre Dame on the Left Bank, at 37 rue de la Bucherie, George Whitman will have just opened for business at his English language second-hand bookshop, Shakespeare And Co.
The grotto-like place is mesmerising in lots of ways. First, George, who established the shop 50 years ago and is now pushing 90, has an old-fashioned attitude to hiring staff: 'I always take a risk on a pretty girl.'
Second, it's one of the last redoubts of literary, bohemian Paris, and there are notices around the walls saying things like: 'I offer Russian translation in return for Spanish lessons.'
Third, the books are almost, but not quite, in alphabetical order, so you never quite give up on finding anything.
Rue Mouffetard and Shakespeare And Co provide all the Sunday shopping I feel like doing, but if anyone - such as my wife - is hell-bent on spending money, they will want to go off to the Sunday flea markets, like the one near Porte de Clignancourt Metro.
I have boycotted these trips ever since a terrible Sunday two years ago when my wife saw a painting she liked at Clignancourt, and wrote out a cheque for the equivalent in francs of £600 to pay for it.
Or so she thought. Over the next few hours she became very silent, and looked repeatedly at the cheque stub until it dawned that the sum she'd paid - 60,000 francs - was actually the equivalent of £6,000.
Fortunately, she'd been given a receipt. So she returned the picture by post at a cost of £100 and got her money back. Moral: these markets are dangerous.
It is now late morning, so I'll limber up for lunch by walking along the riverbank.
Tables on the pavement
The market, which begins on Avenue Marc Sangnier, is only a few years old, yet has more than 300 dealers. Unlike Clignancourt, where much of the trading takes place indoors, some in posh new buildings, dealers at Vanves use tables on the pavement or sell from the backs of vans.
These low overheads are reflected in the prices - I found a lovely Thirties enamel painting of a souk for less than £30 and a pair of pre-War shoe trees, labelled 'Madame' in brass for £25.
Wall-mounted china coffee grinders painted with roses and windmills were £80 to £100 - expensive, but £20 to £50 cheaper than at Clignancourt. About two-thirds of the way along the Avenue Marc Sangnier, china, paintings and bric-a-brac give way to second-hand clothes and the market gets rather tatty.
But press on and, by the time the stalls turn right on to the Avenue Georges Lafenestre, the quality will have picked up again. There you'll find old-fashioned bathroom fittings and garden furniture as well as African art, vintage toys, jewellery, linens, and just about anything else that has been out of fashion long enough to come round again.
Having newly brushed up on my French, I trotted it out for some negotiating. Since you catch more fleas with honey than you do with vinegar, I started by extravagantly praising the item I wanted before asking if it could perhaps, possibly be, say, ten to 20 per cent less.
This went down well. Vanves is still new enough to be friendly and informal, and the ambience is less hard-nosed than at Clignancourt. That doesn't mean, however, that a dealer is likely to miss an opportunity.
I bent down to pet a fluffy white dog belonging to one antique merchant and when I straightened up he had his hand out and said, deadpan: 'Vingt francs, madame, s'il vous plait.'
Sunday. As in England, many of the best antique markets are temporary. The way to find them is to buy Aladin magazine - in French, of course, but easy enough to figure out if you know the French names for the months and the days.
'Antiquites' means serious, expensive antiques, and 'brocante' is bric-a-brac. The listings give the nearest Metro stop and the number of 'exposants' (people who expose their wares, not themselves).
Meet the chocolatiers
For a chocoholic like myself, of course, the Salon represents a glimpse of paradise.
Last October, as the first stories began to appear in the British press, I jumped on a plane and raced to the Carrousel, a cavernous shopping mall underneath the Louvre where the great chocolate festival had just begun.
Wherever I went in the maze of the Salon, smiling people were holding out plates of sweet stuff for tasting - truffles, pralines, patisserie, chocolate filled and flavoured with nuts, fruit and fillings of a hundred different sorts.
Most of the great names in French chocolate were here: both the famous-name companies (Weiss, Poulain, Hediard, Valrhona) and the Parisian chocolatiers with their chic boutiques, men like Michel Cluizel, Pierre Herme, Christian Constant and Jean-Paul Hevin.
I ate truffles flavoured with honey, with basil, with aniseed, lavender, fennel and curry. There were plain chocolate bars made from cocoa beans from Venezuela, Brazil, Ghana, Trinidad and Vietnam.
When claustrophobia and indigestion struck, I escaped into the streets of the 1st arrondissement, breathing great gulps of cold air.
Arming myself with a guide book entirely devoted to Parisian chocolate culture, I cruised around town taking in the city's choc-related highlights - which included a chocolate pizza at the achingly trendy Spoon restaurant, and a chocolate mousse to die for at the bistro Les Bookinistes on the Left Bank.
At Angelina's on the Rue de Rivoli, I fought my way through ranks of old ladies caked with make-up and smelling of rosewater, to enjoy the house speciality, a silky-smooth hot chocolate with a cup of whipped cream on the side.
Views on a budget
La Tour d'Argent - Simply the ultimate address for a meal, where diners gaze out over the most romantic view in Paris. La Tour can claim to be the city's oldest restaurant, dating back to 1582, and the dining room on the top floor faces Notre Dame, with pleasure boats chugging up and down the Seine.
At night be prepared to pay more than 1,000 francs a head, but this gastronomic temple has recently lost one of its cherished three Michelin stars and you can now enjoy a bargain 350 francs lunch menu. Have an aperitif outside on the terrace and ask the English sommelier, David Ridgeway, to show you around the incredible wine cellars, stacked with 400,000 bottles. La Tour d'Argent, 15 Quai de la Tournelle, 75005 Paris, Tel: 00 33 1 43 54 23 31.
Tour Montparnasse - If a prize exists for Paris's ugliest building, then this modern tower would be the easy winner. But it equally wins out by offering the ultimate panoramic view over the city, hardly surprising as it rises 600ft above the street. A lift speeds you up to the 56th floor in only 38 seconds, and up on the roof you can survey each and every landmark from north to south, east to west as long as you can bear the gusting winds.
If not, avoid the normal 42 francs entry and take the special lift straight to the Ciel de Paris bar and restaurant. It is smack opposite the Eiffel Tower and the food has recently improved, or you could just sit down for an aperitif at the bar and watch the sun setting on the City of Light. Tour Montparnasse, 33 Avenue du Maine, 75015 Paris, Tel: 00 33 1 45 38 52 56
Arche de la Defense - Tourists flock in their thousands each day to La Defense, but it is almost impossible to find any cafe or restaurant with a view over this futuristic area built right at the edge of Paris. Going up the landmark Arche de la Defense is expensive (40 francs per person), and the brasserie is deceptive, as it is right inside the Arche with not a single window.
The trick is to cross the huge Esplanade, surrounded by towering skyscrapers, and head into the vast shopping mall, Les Quatre Temps. Ask the way up to the Terrasse Cafeteria and you'll find one of the cheapest eating spots in all Paris, with panoramic views over the Defense and the Arche. Don't expect gastronomic food, because this is nothing more than a cafe attached to a supermarket. But for 40 francs you'll get a pizza and a glass of wine - and children love the place. Casino Terrasse Cafeteria, Centre Commercial Les Quatre Temps, La Defense. No telephone number.
L'Institut du Monde Arabe - Just down the road from the Tour d'Argent, the Left Bank is dominated by a completely different kind of building that looks like a huge futuristic glass and metal ship anchored on the riverbank. Rising up nine tall storeys, this is the Arab World Institute. The interior is very beautiful, with some fascinating exhibitions on Arab culture.
Make your way to the rooftop terrace and there is the Ziryab restaurant serving gastronomic Moroccan cuisine (200-250 francs a head) or a simple salon de the where you can feast on the view with just a steaming glass of mint tea and a deliciously sticky oriental patisserie. L'Institut du Monde Arabe, 1 Rue des Fosses-St-Bernard, 75005 Paris, Tel: 00 33 1 53 10 10 17.
The Buddha Bar
The Buddha Bar
'Just listen,' said Gina. 'This is how you get in to a trendy bar. First, hold your head up high. Then exchange a knowing smile with the bouncer. Then just stride on in. That's it. C'est tout.'
We arrive at the Buddha Bar and we're accosted by car jockeys who try to valet park our taxi. They soon realise that my hotel-room key, which they grab, won't get them very far and that there is a perfectly able taxi driver sitting in the driver's seat.
Gina is a little disappointed to see that the affectations of Los Angeles have begun to pollute Paris.
I really like the ethnic music. Gina is dumbstruck. She is forced to congratulate me, for once, on my taste.
The atmosphere, helped by comfortable chairs, little wooden tables and the marvellous music, is pretty chilled.
The drinks are expensive. My fruit cocktail which at 9.50 euros (£6.50) is not cheap, tastes like that awful Kia-Ora orange drink we used to get excited about in the cinema in the Seventies. And what's more, the harassed waitress short-changes me.
The bar is not quite full of 20 to 30-somethings having a good time. But what was once cool has now become a little corporate.
I think there is more chance of spotting Bill Gates in a suit than Johnny Depp and Vanessa Paradis in a sexy smooch. We hotfoot it out, and try and find somewhere that at least looks and feels as though we are in Paris.
Rating: 1 star. Overwhelmingly (and unbearably) trendy. Most drinks 10 euros (£6.85).
Beer and a pipe
In Maigret And The Flea, the detective lunches at the Brasserie Dauphine, supposedly on rue de Harlay, where he favoured the corner table commanding a view of the river.
The Brasserie Dauphine is thought to have been based on a restaurant in the same spot called the Trois Marches, which has long gone.
Nearby, however, at 13 Place Pont Neuf, stands Taverne Henri IV, where I recommend lunch.
A plaque on the wall states Simenon had been 'an honoured guest'. In fact, the proprietor, a charming, pink-cheeked man called Robert Cointepas, visited Simenon in Switzerland shortly before he died in 1989.
'He was in a wheelchair, and he couldn't speak,' he recalls. 'But he was drinking a beer and smoking a pipe.'
M. Cointepas often retraces the steps taken by Maigret in his investigations, and at home prepares the dishes described in the books as being favoured by the detective, especially blanquette de veau - approximately, veal stew.
Walkable from the Taverne is the beautiful Place des Vosges in the 4th arrondissement. It is surrounded by 17th-century buildings that once formed a palace.
Incredibly, these were apartments for the not-very-well-off in the Thirties and Forties, including the young Simenon, who set Maigret Mystified here, evoking a world of pinched, disappointed people inhabiting gas-lit labyrinths.
The buildings of the Place now house apartments for the wealthy, or baronial antique shops; and Ma Bourgogne at 19 Place des Vosges, depicted in Maigret's time as a dowdy tabac, is a sumptuous cafe-restaurant where steak frites will set you back £20.
As I sipped un express there, the person next to me was astonishingly Maigret-like: a big, overcoated fellow with watery blue eyes.
He actually was smoking a pipe, and knocking back white wine with an expression not incompatible with trying to decide the identity of a murderer.
His presence emboldened me to ask one of the waiters, in my terrible French, whether they were aware of the Maigret connection, and he said 'Certainment!' and showed me an old etching of men smoking pipes, proof that this had once been a tabac.
Paris Open Tour
PARIS OPEN TOUR
This open-bus tour covers not just the usual sights, from Notre Dame to the Arc de Triomphe, but also lets you get off in less visited parts such as Republique, the Bastille and Pigalle. It is easy to switch buses with little delay.
Making a reservation: Tickets can be bought direct from the bus driver, who speaks minimal English, at any of the 40 stops, or from the main office.
Address, 13 rue Auber, 75009; Metro, Opera; tel (00 33) 142 665 656.
Transport: Open-top double-decker bus with comfortable seats. A great view from above but pretty murky downstairs.
Commentary: The headphones are uncomfortable and the taped commentary in English and French is nothing to write home about, but it gives a useful list of sights to see if you decide to hop off.
Customer comment: 'This has to be the best way to see Paris, go shopping, visit museums - all at the same time.'
Value for money: Tours start from 9.30am, so start early to get the most value from your ticket.
Verdict: With routes covering the whole of the city, and the hop on/off system, Paris Open is hard to beat as long as the weather stays fine.
Prepare to haggle
Paris has three main flea markets, each of them on the city outskirts. You reach them by taking the Metro to the Porte de Vanves, the Porte de Montreuil and the Porte de Clignancourt.
Their stalls sell what flea markets the world over sell: vinyl, tapes and CDs, pairs of bargain jeans and shoes, modern African carvings, paperbacks, DIY stuff, and bric-a-brac. You might pick up a bargain if you're prepared to haggle.
Ages ago I took the Metro out to Clignancourt and thought that the somewhat sleazy flea market you come out into was all there was.
But walk another hundred yards and under the peripherique ring road to the St Ouen side, as we did last November, and you arrive in a small township of nearly 1,000 antique shops and stalls - antiques heaven.
It is open from Friday morning to Monday afternoon, and divided into several different markets.
A few of them specialise: the Marche Jules Valles, for instance, is best for 1900s objets d'art; the Marche Dauphine displays an extraordinary number of valuable tapestries. That and the Marche Serpette and the Marche Malassis tend to cater to the upper end of the market, although not exclusively.
You can pick up a guide from kiosks at the Marche Malassis and the Marche Biron, both on the main street, the Rue des Rosiers. This is essential if you want to see everything.
The oldest markets, and the first you reach, are the Marche Vernaison and the Marche Antica, which consist of hundreds of little shops and booths ranged along a bewildering web of little alleyways.
There are so many lovely objects at St Ouen that the danger is you will end up buying things you weren't looking for.
Visiting over an August weekend, only about 60 per cent of the markets were open; even so, there was such an abundance of wonderful paintings and drawings that it took an effort to remember our budget and focus on the things we were looking for: a mirror, a cupboard and a desk or table for a London flat.
Decent little hotels
Next door is the old Jewish Quarter, still Jewish and bustling - but tiny. Walk east to the Bastille and the new Opera House and the Canal St Martin.
From the Hotel Gilden Magenta you can see the barges on the canal.
The Hotel du 7e Art, tiny and inexpensive, is light-hearted and youthful, with log-fires in winter. Across the road is the old Village St Paul, with its twisted streets and antique shops.
Even Montparnasse, once the centre of a thriving art world, is still rewarding, with many decent little hotels. The nearby Luxembourg Gardens is a fine place to watch Parisians at play with their children.
My own favourite area is Montmartre, in spite of the heaving crowds. Just below the little square where the artists and tourists gather you can wander in peace through tiny alleys and the remains of an older Paris. And, high above the city, you catch those sweeping views across the roof-tops.
You'll want to see the Champs Elysee, of course, but expect the hotels to be expensive.
To the north is the Opera area; grand and perhaps a little 'frosty', but you'll be received with warmth by the New Orient Hotel (http://www.hotel-paris-orient.com tel: 0033 145 22 21 64; rooms from £40). Or try the Hotel Chopin, with its views across the roofs of the waxworks.
Remember first principles - shun 'packages' unless you disagree with me about hotels.
Buy books. Do research. Our own book, Paris Hotels, is full of ideas. Don't leave it to chance, unless you are prepared to sleep under a bridge.
Expect small bedrooms and tiny bathrooms; space in Paris is precious. Don't take a car. Walk as much as your shoes will allow. If you have a sense of fun and balance, hire a bike.
Visit a street market, such as the one in rue Mouffetard; there are many, especially on Saturday mornings.
Go to the new, daring Parc Andre Citroen to the west of the Eiffel Tower. The gardens of the Hopital St Pitie are a glorious surprise.
Take the Batobus along the river and use the best public transport of any big city. And take ear-plugs.
But above all, stay somewhere special and talk to the owners about what to do in advance. They will almost certainly be delighted to help and will become your friends in Paris.
Special Places To Stay: Paris Hotels, by Alastair Sawday, is published by Alastair Sawday Publishing (01275 464891).
Portrait of the author as a young woman
Baguettes and blokes aside, Paris took hold of my heart for much more permanent reasons. Heading for an English degree at university, and with all the pretentiousness of youth, I fancied myself a bohemian intellectual who would find the city of Giacometti and Simone de Beauvoir a natural home.
My world revolved around books and art, and what better place to find them? I'd read Jean-Paul Sartre and when Helen and I sat in cafes making coffee last as long as possible it was easy to imagine the great artists, writers and philosophers all around us, discussing life, literature and love late into the night.
We stood for ages in front of Picassos in the Museum of Modern Art, and I can still recall the shiver of excitement when I surveyed a particular still life I had seen reproduced in an art book in Trowbridge library. No great paintings I have since seen can measure up to that moment.
Playing the raffish, bohemian card all we could, we loitered in Montmartre, even thinking some of the terrible touristy paintings in the pretty little square were quite good (naff clowns shedding enormous tears were a popular subject, I recall).
But the area we loved best was (predictably) on the Left Bank, around the Boulevard Saint Michel. I had read The Hunchback Of Notre Dame and it delighted me beyond words to wander down the tiny, narrow Rue de la Huchette, mentioned in that novel and still full of wafting, delicious smells of food, as it was in Victor Hugo's day.
Then, to walk into the famous bookshop Shakespeare & Co on the quai opposite Notre Dame was, for me, as sacred as walking into the great Cathedral itself. There were shelves and shelves of books piled higgledy-piggledy and browsed over by eccentric people, some of them rather beautiful. I felt I could stay there forever, nestled among the stacks of words, words, words.
Browsing among the bouquinistes along the edge of the Seine, rifling through their little cabinets of books, I decided I had died and gone to heaven. It makes me smile now to think I spent precious money on a second-hand paperback of the Selected Poems Of T. S. Eliot (who I was studying for A-level English) - translated into French. Why would an English girl be so pretentiously daft?
The Louvre and Eiffel Tower
Louvre: Fabulous gallery, immense centre of world culture, etc, etc. That's fine for clever blighters who know their Titians from their Tintorettos. But what about the rest of us?
It's daunting, of course, but also (something of a surprise, this) great fun - as long as you don't overdo it.
After three hours, you're zonked and walking past Etruscan statues as if they were rubble. The other thing to do is chuck away the floor-plan guide. The lay-out is as complex as it is vast. No normal person can make sense of it.
So you simply wander, picking up culture as it comes at you. That way, I bumped into the Mona Lisa, the very much sexier Venus de Milo, an Easter Island head and more nude men than I needed in the 16th-century sculpture room.
Best of all, though, were the large format paintings, great wall-fillers like Veronese's Wedding Feast At Cana. I got lost in it for long minutes, then went for a beer. Cultured to the brim.
RATING: 4
Eiffel Tower: Strange to relate but, if the military hadn't needed it for a wireless aerial, the tower would have been pulled down after featuring in the 1890 World Trade Fair. And what, then, would Parisian trinket sellers have copied?
The tower is another French boast - put up to celebrate the country's science and industry - and, like a TV celebrity, essentially famous for being famous.
But no other monument so immediately says 'Paris' - and none other has an equivalent terror potential. The one minute 40 second lift ride to the top will reduce the nervous to prayer.
There is, though, a compensating sense of achievement, and the views are outstanding.
The two lower levels have cafes, gift shops and panels indicating high-spots in the tower's career.
A tip: either go right to the top (£7.25) or merely to the first stage (£2.65). There's little on the second stage to justify the higher, £5 price.
RATING: 3
Constantly-renewed hubbub
That's why the midday and evening scramble for dining tables was such good news. Diners on average spend £9 a head.
That's also why cafe economics sometimes raises eyebrows, especially those of foreign visitors who are responsible for 40 per cent of Andre's business.
Glass-fronted and open, the Parisian cafe is a place of constantly-renewed hubbub, dotted with oases of calm.
It's also blind to social distinctions. Office workers and business people rub shoulders with students, shoppers, tourists and intellectuals.
A remarkable institution, but one which doesn't come cheap.
If four of you sit down at Le Colibri for a cafe creme (coffee with hot milk), you will spend a tenner, with perhaps an extra £1 in tips.
Four teas will cost the same, four 25cl glasses of beer £8.80, and four espressos £5.60.
Parisian cafes operate at least two price levels: one for people standing and a much higher one for those seated.
Certain cafes, but not the Colibri, have a third rate, for outside terraces.
And almost all hike their prices at night - by 30p an item after 10pm in the Colibri's case. 'Late staff cost more,' said Andre.
Style over fashion
It was Chanel who first popularised suntans in the Twenties when she took a holiday in Antibes during the summer - up until this time hotels on the Riviera had opened only during the winter. Suntans were seen as something common, associated with manual labourers.
Chanel was also one of the first women to wear trousers; she also scandalised the Parisian aristocracy with her succession of very public sexual affairs.
'Chanel is a style,' she once said: ' Fashion goes out of fashion. Style never does.'
In the fashion business, the Chanel apartment on the second floor has a sort of mystic significance - the Sistine Chapel of haute couture.
Marie-Christine Vabre of Chanel waits for us at the entrance to 31 Rue du Cambon, still the heart of the company's business. 'Madame Chanel never slept here,' she explains.
Chanel had a suite of rooms at the Ritz, paid for by her former lover, the Duke of Westminster. The attraction of having her business there is that the street has a rear entrance to the Ritz (it was through this door that Princess Diana slipped out to escape the Press on the night of her death).
As we walk up to the salon of the haute couture shop on the first floor, Marie-Christine explains how employees knew if Coco was in the building because she trailed behind her a distinctive smell of Chanel No 5 and cigarette smoke everywhere she went.
I peer into a cabinet at some dresses and my eye falls on a particularly fabulous concoction of silk. 'As a matter of interest, how much would that be?' I asked.
Marie-Christine looked: 'About £50,000.' My jaw drops. 'It has taken about 300 hours to make by hand.'
Ascending from the first floor to Chanel's apartment is the famous sweeping staircase with a beige carpet, wrought iron balustrade and mirror designed by Chanel so that she could sit at the top of the stairs and watch the reactions of those below as they caught |
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