Coming into Paris on the A6 from the south,
feels in a way like coming home. We’ve
been visiting every year for so many years now – over twenty – that I feel I know
Paris better than I know London.
First sight to hove into view is the church
at Montmartre, floating above the Parisian apartments, such an evocative,
beautiful place which holds a special place in my heart. It graces the skyline for just a moment
before hiding as we round a corner. The
tower of Montparnasse follows it, all glass and reflection, and finally the
Eiffel Tower is there, the symbol of Paris, and I know we have arrived.
Our first day in Paris we walked. And walked.
And walked. All day. Flip flops probably weren’t the best
footwear, but it was phenomenally hot, and they were comfortable. For the first couple of miles.
It’s amazing that no matter how well you
think you know a city, there is always something to surprise you. Walking to the Marais we found an arch we’d
never seen before. A bit further on, a
covered walkway housed a plethora of Indian restaurants with smells that made
me hungry even after my enormous lunch.
Around a corner and through a little park we found ourselves next to the
Canal du St Martin and rested under a tree while smartly dressed men walked
their tiny dogs and a small boat negotiated a lock. It felt like we had discovered an almost
secret part of Paris, so different from the overcrowded and touristy shops
along the Rue de Rivoli. Quiet and
peaceful with deep green water, it was a revelation.
We followed the Canal down towards the
Seine. After a lock it disappears
underground, so we followed what we thought would be its route. Above it, children shrieked in playgrounds,
fountains threw up cold water, cars parked and men played boules. Finally it appears again at the Place de la
Bastille, in a large basin full of houseboats and yachts. We sat beside it and drank a cold beer before
taking the Metro back to Nicko and Nini's flat.
A
pretty much perfect day – if only I’d worn walking shoes.
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