Tell me: What do YOU remember about your first time in Paris?
Tell me: What do YOU remember about your first time in Paris?
Send me your memories - and I'll share some in return.
Before we get to your first trip to Paris, let me tell you about one of mine.
I was 22 years old and I was travelling through Europe with a couple of friends. I’d recently moved to London, and seeming they’d come all the way from Australia, I was happy to follow their itinerary.
As such, we only stopped in Paris for one hour. Of all the possible day trips in Europe, we were going from Luxembourg to Bordeaux. That meant arriving in Paris at Gare de l’Est, then taking the Metro across town to Gare Montparnasse.
But, knowing we wanted at least a glimpse of Paris, we decided to walk ten minutes from Gare de l’Est to Gare du Nord, and take the Metro from there. So in reality, the whole visit lasted only ten minutes, but I can remember it vividly.
I can so clearly recall walking those streets and being slapped in the face by the energy and the colour. Even though I was based in another big city, London, I remember thinking: This is big. This is energy. And, weirdly…. this is red.
Something seemed really red to me. Perhaps it was the striking red restaurant awnings, standing out against the beige Haussmannian buildings with their faded grey zinc rooftops.
Reminiscing all this, I just did a search on Google Street View of Gare du Nord in 2008 and there actually was a lot of red. The first view I opened featured prominent red street signs, weird red adverts in the windows, and even a little red car. Maybe this was the exact day I was there. Who knows. Maybe I’m in the background of one of the shots, imagine that.
Anyway, I associate this early Paris visit with a strong red. And an energy. As you can probably imagine, a walk between Gare de l’Est and Gare du Nord is among the most energy-filled ten-minute walks you can do.
People rushing for trains and buses and taxis, tourists with suitcases, diners, restauranteurs, hoteliers, waiters, cyclists…. This was a place that was really happening. I remember tucking the idea of Paris and its mysterious energy away for later.
And then, we were swallowed up by the Metro and off to Bordeaux. And to think, I live in Paris now and have for almost ten years (and many of these years featured a red scooter).
My actual first trip to Paris was even more vivid. That’s when I came here with my 12-year-old brother Eddie and couldn’t find a hotel. That’s when Mary, who worked in a tourist booth on the Champs-Elysées, became our guardian angel and let us sleep in her guest room. Now that’s a real story. But I’ve told it before.
All this is to say that there’s truly something evocative about our first trips to Paris.
And I know a lot of you feel the same way. This week I asked two long-time Parisians for their early impressions of Paris and I recorded their answers for the podcast.
Music journalist Valli told us about May in 1981 when Paris had a positive psyche shift, and how she waited to see Francois Mitterand with a rose at the Pantheon.
Then Englishman Jim Bane told how he witnessed a very colourful police charge in 1963, where caped officers captivated his mind and then checked up on him that night by the Seine. Listen to it below, enjoy the nostalgia.
Then, I turned to you. I asked on social media about your first Paris impressions and got lots of lovely responses.
Talk of croissants, the Seine, police officers, taxis, small hotel rooms, romantic proposals, museums, heatwaves, cold spells, love, loss, and of course, the Eiffel Tower.
Here’s a direct link to the comments on Facebook and Threads (an account I just started yesterday, come say hello).
But I’m curious: I know about 10,000 people will read this email…. so what about your first memories? Do any of you 10,000 dare to share some memories in the comments below? I’d really love to read them and I might make something of it all one day.
And remember to include what year it was!
Anyway, that’ll do for me. Keep your ears ready on Monday (Christmas Day!) for the season finale, where you’ll hear that Z stands for Z&$%, of course. Picture below is a clue.
A special thanks to all the Patreon supporters who keep this show going. And a big hat tip to the new Substack subscribers. In the new year I’ll add some bonuses for you too!
Oliver
On 11th April 2022 I arrived late at night for my first time in Paris with my 18 year old daughter. We had travelled on a high speed train from Kaiserslautern where we were staying with my niece for a week and she’d recommended a two day stay in Paris because, well, why not? The following morning, with great excitement we walked to nearby Goncourt Station and the metro took us to the Seine…coming up the steps and seeing the River and the Eiffel Tower in the distance was completely magical! Our first stop was Shakespeare and Company bookshop. Who was sitting in the rear of the shop, alone, soaking up the atmosphere, none other than Julian Fellows. He was in a reverie and I’d have loved to say hello and what a massive fan I am of his work but out of respect for the peaceful moment he was having, I let him be as I imagined he was communing with some great writers from the past. His wife was an interesting, eccentric character. She was having a good look round the book shelves while I simply gaped from a distance. So began my love for this amazing, incredible, surprising city. Once home, I planned to return for a longer visit. My husband and I went in July 2022 for our silver wedding anniversary and we both loved every minute. It was his first time in Paris and in preparation for the trip he discovered your YouTube videos about each of the arrondissements which were helpful and so interesting. I was hooked; subscribed to your email, listened to your podcasts and have read your book. All of which I’ve enjoyed and found inspiring. So I’ve been in Paris during spring and summer, I would love to experience Autumn and Christmas in the city too. Which is your favourite season to explore and enjoy Paris?
Hi Oliver (and everybody else!) Joyeux Noël!
This episode, excellent as usual, certainly brought out the reminiscing in me. Thank you for inviting us all to share our first time in Paris.
In 1989, I used to work for a now-defunct airline, Wardair. We had recently received the rights to fly to Paris. Shortly thereafter, I decided to fly to Paris from Ottawa through Montreal for the weekend.
So, in the middle of August, I flew standby to CDG, arriving in the morning of Friday the 18th, found a tourist Metro map and then took the Metro into the city.
There, following the map, I navigated the Metro to Charles de Gaulle-Etoile to go to the Office de Tourisme to find a place to sleep that night. It was there I first emerged street-side. I remember coming up onto the Champs-Élysées on a repressively hot, muggy, shadowless sun-drenched mid-day.
Flying on an employee pass in those days- and certainly with Wardair- you had to dress business-casual, so I was all dressed up in a collared shirt and slacks. I was overdressed for sure, soaking and sweating after being in the hot Metro tunnels and now up on the street.
I had made absolutely no accommodation plans so I made my way directly to the Office de Tourisme- a few doors down from the Arc de Triomphe to figure something out. A full-time university student, coming to Paris on a whim, my budget was somewhat limited.
A few phone calls later by the very helpful woman behind the counter, I was headed to a hostel near Place Saint Germain in the Latin Quarter. It was a mad dash there as the hostel filled up with guests first-come, first-served. I got the penultimate bed that day.
Once I had dumped my bag off, it was off to the Eiffel Tower where I walked up to the second level. Then back to the Arc de Triomphe where I paid hommage to the Soldat Inconnu, basked in the sun, and marvelled at the city from the viewing deck.
I rode the Metro. I wandered through the flagship stores and car dealerships on the Champs Élysées.
Since this is a family outfit, I’ll reserve a few remarks here but… not 2 weeks before, at 22 years old, I had just come out of the closet. Exciting times.
As night fell, I headed into the Marais and wound up at what has been my haunt each time I return, the Quezel Bar on rue de Verrerie. It was packed with the Friday night party crowd, spilling out onto the street. The music was loud and the pall of cigarette smoke hung heavy. A few chats in English and in French as well as a few beers later, I followed ‘Stephane’ down to the Seine next to the Pont Neuf. I’ll leave the details of this encounter there. Let’s just say that Paris is especially ‘romatique’ for me.
Later on the next day at about lunch time, I left his place not far from Pl de la Bastille and went back to the hostel to collect my untouched belongings. I showered and headed to the airport.
After checking in for the flight back to Montreal, at CDG T2 I went upstairs above the check-in counter and fell asleep. At this point, I had been awake for about 50 hours.
Very shortly thereafter, I was awakened by a couple of Gendarmes who told me to go out onto the sidewalk. Apparently, there was an unattended bag in the terminal that was causing a security risk.
By the time I had wakened up, collected my stuff, and walked outside, they had already taken the bag out into the parking lot. I got outside just in time to see them detonate (yes, explode) the bag. The contents flew everywhere- a pair of underwear winding up on the lamp standard adjacent to the mangled carcass of the now-demolished bag.
90 minutes later, I was boarding the flight for Montreal. I slept the whole way back.
It was one of the most amazing weekends of my entire life. Having been to London with its somewhat unsightly mix of post-war boxes and higgledy-piggledy streets and alleys, the Haussmanian boulevards made Paris so organized and planned. Remember, the first glimpse of Paris I ever had of my own two eyes was the Champs Élysées at l’Etoile- the epitome of his design.
Needless to say, I fell in love with the city and your weekly adventures take me back to that place- and often that time in my life.
Thank you, Oliver. Merry Christmas to you Lena, Otis, and everybody in this amazing community. Hopefully I’ll be back in 2024.