IM Pei's pyramid & the Louvre

Over cupcakes at Hummingbird at Notting Hill, Debs and I hatched a dastardly plan. We would, we decided, skip over the Channel for a cheeky lunch in the City of Light. Perhaps go shopping. Perhaps eat pastries. Be back by dinner time, with no one the wiser. The world was ours, or Paris, at least, was.

With tickets bought we met at St Pancras at an unholy time in the morning and within hours were walking south from the Gare du Nord towards the Marais. Prior discussion had resulted in a plan of attack that included exploring the shops of this quarter, then having lunch at a local brasserie. The day was cloudy as we set off towards the Seine, but it cleared up soon after. Paris was just waking up as we threaded our way to our destination. Our journey was long and arduous - only because of the constant pit stops we were making to patisseries and boulangeries on the way for croissants, pain aux chocolats and pain aux raisins - it's a hard life breakfasting in Paris!

Cafe culture; autumn leaves & postcards; The Eiffel Tower; shops in the Marais

We made for the Place des Vosges first, an oasis of trees and empty space. Finally at the Marais, we stopped for some people watching and tourist guessing at a cafe on rue de Turenne (the street of the tureen, perhaps?). There were warm braziers at our backs and the theatre of a Parisien side street on display and we had first row seats. The Marais is the Jewish quarter of Paris and we saw a few very well dressed couples head off to the synagogue. It is a quaint, old area, filled with designer (and very expensive!) shops, traditional Jewish bakeries and here and there, bead shops, vintage clothing, bookshops and restaurants.

The facade of the Pompidou Centre

The prices and the decidedly lacklustre sterling at the moment were completely prohibitive, so aside from a few crumbs on our shirts neither Debs nor I had anything to show for our purchases in the Marais. We headed down towards the river, passing the Pompidou Centre on our way. I'd wanted to see this building on my first visit to Paris so it feels utterly divine and pre-ordained to literally stumble on it, all unawares, on this trip. As we head down we finally see the Ille St Louis and glimpse, in the far distance, the tiny silhouette of the Eiffel. Along the quai we walk past the petshops and flower shops, past the postcard sellers and the vendors with their mountains of kitsch Eiffel keychains.

At the Louvre; cafe au lait in Paris; the Seine and the Ille St Louis; Marais streets

At the Louvre we pause for breath and photographs. The sky is a rich, happy blue and we search for the orange awning of Le Fumoir, where artists, writers and the glitterati gather to partake in nourishment. Grey and earth tones dominant inside, casual and chic at the same time. In the far back is a dining room lined with books where happy diners sit and chat. We plump for a sun filled spot by the window, only to be told the table is reserved for others more important than us. Unwilling to cause a scene in a foreign language (less of an ability to argue well) we resit ourselves in the main area.

The insides of Le Fumoir; looking down the Champs towards the Arc du Triomphe

The prix fixe menu has salmon and salad and delicious sounding desserts. I order mushroom ravioli in beef consomme to start and the salmon as my main. The food is perfectly nuanced and after a hard day's tramp, much appreciated. Service is quick, quiet and calm and all around us are friends catching up, families lunching and business busily in the process of being conducted.

At Laduree and Fauchon

Feeling happy and expansive, Debs and I roll our way back down through the Louvre and scuff our shoes through the sunny Tuileries, then hang a right towards the Pantheon. At Laduree I point at the long, ridiculous line and ask "a emporter?" incredulously. The host says "yes, to take away" and Debs and I slink away to Fauchon instead where the line is shorter and the macarons just as good. It is difficult to say no to the beautiful concoctions of sugar and spice and all things nice and we end up with a few bags each of delicious nommable delights, then a quick hop back to the Seine and on the Metro to catch our train back to London. 

Au revoir, Paris, I'll see you at Christmas.

The Gare de Lille Flandres, Lille's older, smaller train station.

The train into Lille pulls away from St Pancras mid morning. Jo and I are heading into the French/Flemish town for a day - the city is France's fourth largest, once a hub of textile manufacturing and known as the "Manchester of France." In actual fact it was neither Lille's size nor history that drew us - the cheap Eurostar tickets did the trick!

With only a day to spend in Lille and no plans or expectations, no guidebook or map, Jo and I wandered around Gare de Lille Europe for the first fifteen minutes or so, trying to orient ourselves. The first stop was the giant shopping mall - Euroville, across a large public space from the station. There is a hypermarche, a hulking Carrefour filled with good things like cheeses and hams, and a flurry of high street European brands.

 Flemish/Dutch/French buildings in Lille
The Opera House and Chamber of Commerce
Paul the bakery is everywhere in Lille! Art Deco facade

We head into the centre of Lille, stopping along the way at the Vielle Bourse, Lille's old trading exchange house. It's beautifully restored and there is a book fair in its grounds on the day we are there. The light in Lille is soft and beautiful, diffused and clear at the same time. We finally stop for lunch at a touristy restaurant along the Grand Place, a noisy, traffic filled square that is filled with a civic event in the afternoon that we visit.

First glimpse into Vielle Bourse; books for sale


Inside the Vielle Bourse; the facade



The rue de la Monnaie; the outside of the Musee l'Hospice de Comtesse.

Lille's architecture displays none of the 16th, 17th century grandiose flamboyance of Parisien buildings. Instead, mixed in with the ornate curves of beautiful roccoco are the unmistakably Flemish/Dutch influences of stepped and bell gables. The Flemish duchy was lost somewhere in the 19th century in the midst of the power struggles of the Dutch, French and even the Spanish, whose reign extended this far in its heyday. However the culture survives, and in homage to Lille's cultural ties we order Belgian beer and mussels for lunch while sitting al fresco at the Grand Place.

It is a clear, sunny autumn day and every vista we come across while wandering the cobblestones of Old Lille is drenched in that light. We head (by chance wandering) for the oldest street in Lille, a 13th century, twisty masterpiece called rue de la Monnaie. Here is the Musee l'Hospice de Comtesse, an old 16th century hospice founded by the Countess of Flanders, now a museum. Lille also has the Palais de Beaux Arts, second only in size to the Louvre, but our day is too short and the weather too fine to be wandering around dusty galleries looking at Old Masters, so we choose to explore the shops instead.

Mussels for lunch; Pierre Hermand macaron shop; going for a stroll in the streets of Lille; decaying facade of a building; blue shutters - Lille is filled with quaint views like these; turkish delight in the glass jars at Meert

There is a divine, be-chandeliered patisserie which has queues forming for its Marvellous, a chocolate shavings coated concoction of whipped cream set on a crumbly, light meringue. The combination of textures is what makes this work. The shop's other best seller is the Incredible, similar to the first, but without chocolate shavings. By a shop window, a woman lingers. The awning say "Macarons" and I drag Jo over for a divine pink, rose flavoured and purple, passion fruit flavoured, mouthful of heaven. I stop at one (so difficult when it comes to macarons!) because I intend to visit Laduree this Saturday in Paris and indulge there instead.

The crowds milling outside of Meert - clearly a favourite with everyone; cheeky taste test

Later on we stumble on Meert, a 16th century tea house with divine interiors. Marble topped counters, old fashioned sweet jars, chocolates displayed in glass cases, wooden shelfs, painted ceiling panels, old fashion telephones, a besuited door attendant - Jo and I were literally reduced to kids in a candy store. The French certainly know how to turn everything into beauty and art and ritual.

Works of delicious art

We arrive back in London tired out after two hours on a train filled with tired, misbehaving children from Euro Disneyland - there is nothing quite as effective as two hours on a train filled with children and bad parents for birth control. Quoth a young couple sitting near us as they got off the train, "promise me we're not having children for another at least twenty years!" Funny in retrospect but hellish in the moment.

Hopefully the train ride to and from Paris this Saturday will be more child-free. Au revoir!

The Aux Merveilleaux de Fred patisserie where we purchased a Marvellous