You'll love (some of) Paris

By Richard Herstek, Globe Correspondent 06/21/98

PARIS -- My wife, Sarah, and I have been visiting Paris for about 10 years now. We were fortunate enough to live there for a short time. And while we were there, we had visitors. Lots of them. And they all arrived with a bundle of expectations. Some were accurate. Others indicated to us that they'd been reading too many bus tour advertisements.

Here is the counsel we offered them:

Start your trip with a visit to the Paris Tourism Office on the Champs Elysee. The information is organized well. The help accommodating, and Englishis spoken. There are maps galore.

Arc de Triomphe. The view from the Eiffel Tower makes Paris look like an endless gray-brown gravel pit. The Arc de Triomphe, on the other hand, provides a much better view -- one sufficient to get a sense of the scope of Paris while retaining a certain intimacy with the place.

Angelina. Angelina is based on a great concept: Serve rich hot chocolate in every way imaginable, and serve it in a gilded, bejeweled setting. But nobody seemed very happy when we were there. And the chocolate wasn't that good. Tastes, of course, differ, so every chocoholic should try Angelina nonetheless.

Champs Elysee. A street adorned with 10,000 flowering trees. Sidewalks big enough for 10 people to walk shoulder to shoulder. And shops that set the standard for luxury. They're all part of the Champs Elysee. It will delight you in ways that Rodeo Drive, Madison Avenue, and Las Vegas Strip never could. And it will completely alter your sense of scale. If you're lucky enough to be there on Bastille Day, when hundreds of French flags fly above the avenue, or at Christmastime when it's adorned with a million petite white lights, it will make you want to defend the French with your whole heart and all your might.

Harry's. I resisted going here as long as I could. I was sure that its celebrity would have ruined it by know. Fortunately, it remains as Hemingway and F. Scott Fitzgerald left it. It has remained true to itself, rather than try to polish its images as a 1930s beer drinker's haven.

Old college pennants grace the walls. Journalists adorn the bar. This is probably a better American bar than any bar in America. Women are welcome and as comfortable as men.

The Seine. This is Paris's jugular vein. It's made to be worked. To be walked. To be sailed. To lie naked beside. Which some do. Nothing in the United States matches the relationship Parisians have with their river. Pont des Arts is its most romantic and pretty bridge. People picnic on it in summer. Pont se l'Archeveche offers a great view of Notre Dame.

Crazy Horse. One of Paris's world famous cabarets. Do not go in. I repeat, do not go in. If you do, you will be surrounded by an army of Japanese tourists. You will pay more for a single drink than you ever spend on your most expensive bottle of wine.

Musee d-Orsay. From my lowly perspective, the Musee d'Orsay beats the pants off the Louvre. If you come here, you can skip the Louvre altogether and still have a grand museum experience. The building itself is a reincarnated train station. It is magnificent. And its contents number among the most inspirational works of art in the world. The museum is also a manageable, leisurely 2 1/2-hour experience.

Deux Magots. A world-renown cafe on Boulevard St.-Germain. Hemingway drank here. Hemingway kept a lot of Paris bars solvent. Accused of being a bit touristic, Deux Magots still feels like a place for writers and businesspeople. Lunch and after-work visits provide a fashion show of beautiful women.

La Fourmi Ailee. A bastion of calm, just a few hundred yards from the craziness of Place St.-Michel and Notre Dame. Half the place is a feminist bookstore, with all works in French, which tends to keep the tourist population down. While it's a haven of feminism, men are quite welcome. Walk on through to the tea salon and get ready to be charmed. A fireplace with an old wooden mantel makes this one of the few places in Paris that is improved by the cold damp days of winter. Soft classical music and low light, plus generous pots of herbal teas and congenial service contribute to making this one of the most demure, civilized places in the entire city. Except at lunchtime, when it's crowded, cramped, and noisy. Salads are a specialty, and the pastries are light and delicious.

Saint-Chappelle. Maybe the single best thing in Paris. It's a 13th-century church on Ile de la Cite with a lot of of stained glass. If a classical concert is being performed here, go! It's not cheap (about $30) but it's heavenly. The Vedettes on Pont Neuf offers 45-minute tours up and down the Seine. Go late (around 10:30 p.m.) for magnificent views of the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame and of that night life that spills out onto the bridges. Watch out for beer spilling overhead as you pass under.

Ile St.-Louis. There is a three-year wait for apartments on Ile St. Louis. Pigeon lofts, as they are called, which measure 10 feet by 30 feet, sell for about $250,000. You have to come here, if for no other reason than to see what all the (justifiable) fuss is about. The entire island is easily traversed in three hours,and everything is adorable in this little microcosm of Paris: The restaurants, the pizza places, the Salon des The, the funky shops, the fashion boutiques, the market stalls.

Notre Dame. There are three sights that every first-time visitor to Paris wants to see: The Louvre, The Eiffel Tower, and Notre Dame. Notre Dame, with its glory and mystery, is the only one that in my opinion warrants getting worked up over.

Rue Mouffetard. This is a street market in the Latin Quarter. The market stalls seem to stretch on endlessly. The narrow, winding streets and alleys up here tie the city to the 14th century like nothing else. Lots of pastry, seafood, pastas, veggies.

Montmartre Cemetery. This has to be the most densely populated cemetery in the world. Lots of mini-Chartre-type sepulchers. Gothic and Romanesque mausoleums. And one that looks like a time machine, in the Art Nouveau mode. Berlioz, Degas, and Francois Truffaut are buried here. Jim Morrison is not.

Pigalle. Nothing in Paris is mean. This section of town, at the foot of Montmartre, is Paris's acknowledgment of, and submission, to its erotic impulses. It is not a confession of its deepest, darkest, dirtiest secrets. This is user-friendly sex. It is institutionalized sex. Howard Johnson sex. It is more a curiosity than a voyage to the dark side. Strolling through this neighborhood is more interesting than the shows themselves. If you go inside, you will see a parade of mostly naked, glassy-eyed automatons. And a beer will cost you around $40. (That's not a misprint.)

Catacombs. An eerie experience. Take a walk down into the earth about 200 feet, past 6 million sets of human bones. Floor-to-ceiling femurs, with human skulls stacked in the shape of ghastly crosses. The French Underground hid from the Nazis down here, down a corridor with a sign above that read, ``You are entering the city of death.'' The Nazis elected not to enter. Don't make the same mistake.

Pompidou Center. The most visited tourist site in Paris. It has three things going for it. One, the weirdest exterior of any building anywhere. Two, a great view of the city as you ascend the escalator to the top floor. And three, a fountain that is a testament to unbridled capriciousness. It looks as if it belongs in the movie ``Yellow Submarine.''

La Truffe. Maybe the best dining experience we've had in Paris. The restaurant is small, with Provencal yellow tablecloths. Beamed ceilings. Low light. Delightful staff. Walk up to the counter where you can view the choices for that day, and get an explanation (in English) of the selections. Place your order and take your seat. Oh, yeah. It's vegetarian. The spinach lasagna was the best lasagna I'd ever tasted. And I'm a carnivore. The desserts were fabulous, too. Especially the pear tart. And you'll leave with money in your pocket.

La Perla. You must eat here. Great Mexican food. Best Margaritas in town. This place can be a momentary connection to America. Strangely enough, it fills that role better than the (supposedly) American diners around the city.

Chez Richard. The Marais is happening. I So is Chez Richard. It has an easygoing but unmistakable sense of style. Tiled walls. Arched doorways. Wrought-iron railings. The music is current. The beer choices are plentiful. The martinis are some of the best in town. The staff is friendly, welcoming, and unpretentious. Thirty minutes here, and you will begin to wonder why Parisians are saddled with their awful reputation.

Picasso Museum. Picasso changed the way we look at art and the world. And the museum experience, for me, just didn't measure up to the artist. But I'm sure it has been a rapturous experience for millions.

The Rodin Museum. This could be the perfect museum, for four reasons. One, you don't have to be an art snob to appreciate the work here. The instant you see the sculpture out front -- most notably ``The Burghers of Calais'' and ``The Thinker,'' you say to yourself, ``Wow, now I know why these are famous.'' Second, the mansion that was Rodin's house, and which houses the other art work, is gorgeous. Third, it's small, as museums go. There's a lot of compelling work, concentrated in a manageable museum experience. Lastly, there's a cafeteria in the gardens out back where you can have a sandwich and a modest, passable glass of wine underneath trees. After lunch, finish your tour of the grounds and the sculpture garden.

Place des Invalides. Napoleon's Tomb. This place is actually a cross between a monument and a museum. You can visit the tomb part in a half-hour. A lot of grandeur is packed into this little double-decker rotunda. Napoleon's Herculean coffin sits in the middle of the edifice. And it's surrounded by a circuit of small galleries, each of which pays tribute to some fallen hero or other. I appreciated this more for its artistic value, and the empathy it evoked, than for its historical significance.

Eiffel Tower. I could tell you not to go. But you'll go anyway. I know, because someone told us not to go. And we went anyway. It's hard to exclude the most recognizable monument in Paris from your itinerary. But if you go, especially if you go in season, be prepared for long lines, both going up and coming down. Claustrophobia-inducing elevators. A cheeseball gift shop at the top. And a mediocre view for your trouble.