It might seem as though all of a sudden all the blogosphere’s a-flutter with talk of dream Parisian weekends. It’s for a competition with Le Nouveau Paris, and because Paris infatuates me to a near-obsessive level, I couldn’t resist putting my two pence in…
My dream Parisian weekend wouldn’t involve the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre or the Moulin Rouge, or spending all my worldly riches on delicious make-up and perfumes in Sephora. (But only because I did far too much of that last time).
Instead, I’d retrace the steps of the characters from one of my favourite films, Bernado Bertolucci’s The Dreamers. I’ve been fascinated by the May ’68 riots ever since I researched the Situationist graffiti from that time as part of my dissertation. The juxtaposition of such romantic, idealistic ideas with the violence, vandalism and injustice that the riots involved intrigued me no end. If I went back to Paris I’d love to learn more about the backdrop of the riots, and visit the relocated Cinémathèque Française archive. And then visit the old site of the archive, where Isabelle pretended to chain herself to the gates when the cinema closed during the Henri Langlois affair.
Then, whilst in the mood for mirroring famous cinematic scenes, I’d go to the Café des Deux Moulins, where Amelie was filmed, for hot chocolate and crème brulée. Then, dizzy with sugar and excitement, I’d get the Metro to Denfert-Rochereau and go back to the Cartier Foundation. Last time I went to Paris, I saw an amazing exhibition of Patti Smith’s photography and writing, and I’ve read fantastic reviews of the graffiti exhibition they have on at the moment.
Then from there it wouldn’t be too far for an adventure into the Catacombs. I’d read so much about them that I was so disappointed to learn last time I went to Paris that the catacombs were closed. I’ve not been back since then, so although it might seem ghoulish, I’d love to see them next time I’m there.
Continuing in a similar ghoulish vein, from the Catacombs I’d scamper back down past the Cartier Foundation to the Montparnasse cemetery, to see the graves of Serge Gainsbourg and Satre and de Beauvoir. From there, it isn’t far to the Tour Montparnasse, for a beautiful view across all of Paris, including the Eiffel Tower.
Then, whilst I’m still channelling Satre and de Beauvoir, it’d be back into St Germain and to Café de Flore, one of their favourite haunts, for a cocktail or two. Then I’d go to the Palais de Tokyo and play in the black-and-white photobooth. As long as the weather wasn’t too cold and dismal, I’d sit outside afterwards on the giant concrete steps, slurping milkshake and admiring my photostrip souvenirs.
After that, a quick dash to one of the most romantic and wonderful places in Paris that I’ve ever been, the Shakespeare and Company bookshop next to the river. I’d snoop about, rifle through the shelves for some reading material for the train journey home, then reluctantly leave once they’ve had enough of my loitering for hours on end.
(Image from DarkB4Dawn's Flickr photostream)
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