In every sense, Paris is a perfect fit for me. I love to eat, I love to watch people, and I love to walk. On our last trip, researching The Paris Librarian, my wife and I averaged seven miles a day, our longest stroll was from the Eiffel Tower to Montmartre and back. And the thing is, it’s no struggle. Every step is a pleasure because Paris unfurls before you like a seductive woman, casually spilling a gaudy, touristy layer to reveal sleek, cream-stone buildings in more residential areas, before turning up the heat with her lithe, winding streets that lead you to the ultimate view of Paris at the Sacré Coeur.
And the reward for all that walking is the food. We ate at New Jawad one evening, on Avenue Rapp, finding for ourselves better Indian food than we’ve ever eaten in England or America. And the service was the opposite of that which my friend David would have expected: full of smiles and jokes, a free drink when I told them I was a writer, and one for my wife, too.
Credit Barbara Pasquet James
Credit Doug Crawford