Complete Maps: Paris
This is the perfect example of a city where my second time around theory simply does not stand. Because, however many times you see the Eiffel Tower, or walk past the Louvre Pyramid, or go for a stroll along the Seine, Paris will still stir within you the same emotions you had when you found yourself there for the very first time. Nonetheless, this is my attempt at seeing a place which unashamedly invites you to be a tourist, through the eyes of a local.
The map does not cover all arrondissements, and is mostly focused on areas that lie on the Right Bank. But it does cover most bases, and where the cool kids go. Brasseries, traditional and modern, posh restaurants, casual restaurants, wine bars, cocktail bars, cheese shops, clothes shops, hipster coffee shops, traditional cafés with rows of seats and small circular tables across the front (yes, Café de Flore is in it, but it's the most Parisian touristy thing you can do).
Eleven years ago, I spent an entire month in Paris. I stayed in Montparnasse and traced the footsteps of all the literary and artistic legends who gathered in the area, from Sartre to Picasso. I tried to learn French, and failed, whilst living in an amusing and bemusing student hostel that resembled a nunnery - but more on that offline. The last time I went to Paris, I spent 36 hours there, stayed in South Pigalle (SoPi for the trendies), communicated in English, and also failed. Two entirely conflicting Parisian experiences, bound together by some crucial common factors - the food, the art, the atmosphere and the inspiration. But also, the walkability. You don't get bored walking around Paris. Some places were just made for it.
Paris definitely was. Literally. After all, Haussmann (what an appropriate name) infamously ripped up the city during Napoleon III's reign and turned it into more or less the place it is today, characterised by its bright, broad boulevards. There is, of course, a more sinister side to this, the broadness also permitting armies to rattle through and repress the masses. But beyond the political and historical implications, from a psychogeographical perspective, it also became more open to the urban wanderer. First for men, and then, slowly, for women.
In Lauren Elkin's excellent book 'Flaneuse', she talks about the first women who were brave enough to walk the streets of Paris, alone, under the male gaze. But what stood out to me was an anecdote about the uniformity of the facades of buildings, imposed by Haussmann. Elkin writes: "In the 4th arrondissement the policy has been applied to such an extreme that there is a delightful free-standing doorway on the rue Beautrellis, all that remains of a seventeenth-century hôtel particulier. Behind it, unconnected to the old doorway, stands a cement building from the 1960s."
These lines serve not just as a reminder to not to judge a book by its cover, but also as a suggestion that beneath Paris's glistening facade lies a dark city. However, they can also serve as a nudge to look beyond what you see. Every time I've been to Paris was different. Every time you visit a city is different. The city changes, inevitably. We change. And so, going to the same places can still offer a new sense of discovery and adventure.
As Proust put it, "The real voyage of discovery consists not in seeking new lands but seeing with new eyes."
