5 tips for rediscovering the magic of Paris

Samuel Johnson famously said that when a man is tired of London, he's tired of life.  When a man is tired of Paris, it just means he's been there eight or ten times.

Maybe it's Baron Haussmann's drive towards uniformity, or the fact that every bistro has pretty much the same menu, or the reality that once you've been up the Eiffel Tower a couple of times it's just a very long queue for a lift with a view.  Paris, once you become a frequent visitor, can get a bit boring.

This is, no doubt, a complete travesty to my American readers, who imagine Paris as the trip of a lifetime.  But you need to remember that Paris to London is a 45-minute flight, and a frequent business trip destination.  It is in the same orbit from London as Chicago is from St. Louis.  And though I loved the Windy City, I hardly considered it exotic.

We set off for the City of Light for the bank holiday weekend on the express mission to see an exhibition at the Grand Palais.  (Of that, more in my next entry.)  We purposely made no other plans and had no specific destinations in mind.  We would, we thought, just drift.  And this turned out to be a brilliant idea.  Freed from the short list of "must see" sights, with no expectations whatsoever and leaning towards lesser-known activities, we ended up cobbling together some great experiences that made this one of my best visits in many years.

Here are five activities that will revive a jaded Paris visitor's love for the city.

1. Tour the Opera House (Palais Garnier)

I've passed the Palais Garnier so many times that its magnificent architecture, grand as it is, had faded into the general stage set of Paris.  Turns out you can go inside on a self-guided tour.  The interior makes the facade look understated.  It is one of the most magnificently lavish buildings I have ever encountered, its profuse marble, mosaics, frescoes, gold gilt and lighting making the public areas as much of a show as whatever was playing behind the curtain.  It has all the opulence of Versailles, but with much smaller crowds and a manageable number of rooms.

It is, of course, from a different time period.  Built in the mid-1800s under the artistic direction of architect Charles Garnier, by whose name it's now often known, it created a look for Napoleon III's new empire.  What came to be called Second Empire shares the rich ornamentation of historic French styles, but combines them, and borrows from others, to create something new and totally of that time.

You'll pay 10 euro to get in; don't skimp and spend an additional 5 on the audio tour, essential to

understand both Garnier's artistic intent and how the building was used.  Without it I wouldn't have appreciated, for example, that the Salle Des Glaces (literally, hall of ice cream or ices) was decorated with women representing pastry, ice cream making, confectionary, tea and coffee … all the things consumed here.  Or that Garnier started the tradition of red curtains and upholstery in auditoriums because, with candlelight, it is the colour that is kindest to women's complexions.  Every step through the building is fascinating, but my highlights were the stunning grand staircase, the jaw dropping grand foyer (based on Versailles' hall of mirrors) and some fascinating 19th century opera stage set models in the library.  (Which confirm I would have enjoyed Wagner a lot more 120 years ago.)  It all ends in a gift shop more than double the size of the one at the Royal Opera House at Covent Garden, filled with everything from small souvenirs to hand-crafted chairs modelled on those in the boxes.  There's even a child-sized version if you want to indoctrinate your kid into grand opera.  You just need to fork out 1,300 euro.

2.  Go to Malmaison

The horrific crowds of our last visit to Versailles had put us off palaces, but this one's a different matter.  Napoleon and Josephine shared this home.  Josephine stayed on after the divorce.  It carries the spirit of its owners in a way few great palaces do.  Napoleon's council room is decorated as a grand campaign tent, as if he were still out in the field on some great conquest.  The library is a neo-classical pastiche much to his taste, filled with memories of his campaigns.  Upstairs, several rooms are filled with portraits, china, furniture, models and other odd bits, all adding up to quite a good little museum on the great man.

But it's Josephine's touch that really lingers here.  While outside she borrowed her style from the English, planting parks and gardens you'd find mistake for Sussex, inside she fused neo-classicism, Regency style, Egyptian influences, a love of flowers and soft colours to create something unique which went on to influence others throughout the 19th century.  Her dining room is tastefully elegant, her music room impressive, and her bedroom completely over-the-top yet somehow cosy at the same time.  At the moment there's an exhibition on the top floor all about her love of birds and flowers, showing how she not only decorated with them, but sponsored expeditions and collected magnificent hand-illustrated books upon their conclusion.  The curators have enlivened the show with sound (birds, bees, wind), video, lighting and flower displays to make it even more fascinating.  This special show is
only on until 30 June; it you happen to be in Paris, don't miss it.

Malmaison also benefits from years of excellent restoration.  I visited here almost 15 years ago and was bitterly disappointed by a shabby house and almost non-existent garden.  The transformation has been extraordinary; it looks as if Josephine has just stepped out and may return at any moment.  I think she'd still be disappointed in the gardens.  For a woman famous for her roses, they still have a way to go.  But as interiors go, this is hard to beat.  And best of all, there's hardly anyone here.  It is an undiscovered joy … we often had rooms all to ourselves.

3.  Attend a concert at La Madeleine
Earlier this year our visit to the Amsterdam Concertgebouw taught us the joys of concert going in foreign cities.  Before this trip, we discovered classictic.com, a website that lists classical concerts all over the world, searchable by city, and brokers tickets for you at a reasonable, normal rate.

Thus we stumbled upon an evening of Mozart (3rd violin concerto, mass in C Minor) at La Madeleine church.  It's a strange and wonderful interior; a 19th century recreation of a Roman civic building decorated with some religious statuary to make it into a church.  We toured it on a past visit and were intrigued, but found it really came into its own as a concert venue.

It also led us to a realisation.  The majority of our modern musical experiences are acoustically perfect.  Halls built and baffled to direct sound, recordings and earphones meant to deliver a flaw-free mix direct to our ears.  But this wasn't the circumstance for which most classical music was written.  The acoustics at La Madeleine weren't great; a lot of sound got swallowed in the dome or the vast side altars, which is exactly the way it would have been for Mozart.  The effect meant that the main orchestra or choir dulled a bit.  The music blended to become a bit fuzzy … although still wonderful.  And then, over this, cut the violin or the soprano soloist.  The sharp, high tones slicing through the air in a different way, and bringing an entirely distinct level of sound.  The vocal gymnastics of strong soprano, when presented with perfect acoustics can, frankly, sound like shrieking.  In a more natural setting, it's exactly what the singer needs to cut through the challenges of her surroundings.

4.  Go out to eat with a local
Not every city offers this opportunity, but I'm lucky enough to have plenty of friends in Paris.  Including a wonderful former boss.  We met up on the Monday.  A working day for him, though not for us, so a chance to do lunch with the business crowd and get a real look at the hustle and bustle of local work life.

Paul took us to Le Mesturet, a bistro specialising in food from the Southwest of France.  Turns out the locals are just as sick of the repetitive menus of steak tartare, steak frites and tarte aux citron as the rest of us.  By finding someplace with a regional speciality, they can escape the same old thing.  It's also a revelation to see how a native, at ease with how things work and totally fluent in the language, sparks an entirely different reaction from the waiters.  Not necessarily better, but far more attuned to specials, what's good today and what are the best value wine matches.

Le Mestruet wasn't our best meal.  (Aside from our introduction to the Paris-Brest, a circle-shaped choux pastry filled with praline flavoured creme, named after the bicycle race between those two cities.  Evidently the shape is reminiscent of a bicycle wheel, and it was much loved by cyclists for the calorific energy boost.  As we were merely wandering around the Opera after lunch, rather than cycling to Brest, we split one.)  In fact, most of our dining was so average I'm considering skipping my regular post-trip restaurant review.  But, thanks to the company, it was one of our best experiences.

5.  Stop to give an American directions
Seriously, try it.  Spot an American puzzling over a map, and offer to help.  He will be so relieved to hear his native language spoken in conjunction with confident advice, he will almost certainly engage you in conversation.

We ended up the highlight of the day for three older couples from Hershey, Pa., who … once we steered them towards Notre Dame, but told them their time would be much better spent at Saint-Chapelle … wanted our honest opinions about all sorts of things.  Their amazement at meeting a dignified, Downton Abbey-esque Brit married to an American who'd actually been to their home town (that's a story for another day) knew no bounds.  Talking to them, seeing the wonder and excitement with which they were tackling every moment in Paris, their absolute delight in getting to walk those streets, reminded me of just how special Paris is.  Not only Paris, but anywhere.

Travel is a privilege.  If you ever need proof … just ask a sightseeing American.