Paris by Day

Located on the corner of the Rue des Rosiers and the Rue Vielle du Temple, in the center of the Marais, L’As du Fellafel was once described to me as “the best falafel in the world”--I think it might even say that in the window. To take out or eat in, the food is excellent. The falafels themselves are smaller than you’ll find in New York, but very very good, and the Fellafel spécial adds eggplant, carrots, red cabbage to the pita. We were a bit ambitious, and ordered an Assiette royale to start (70FF), a Fellafel spécial (35FF), a Shawarma (40FF), and two Heinekens (20FF each--not the most interesting thing to drink, but in this place, there were more wines to choose from than beers. Came in cans.) The appetizer assortment was big, with at least seven different things to put on the slices of pita that came on the side. Hummus, of course, babaganoush, a paté, some curry-like mixtures of onions and chicken, and another spicy hummus-like purée. This, it turned out, would have been enough to fill us up. As luck would have it, we had arrived a half-an-hour before they were about to close (7:00pm! It turns out that a lot of little restaurants close around 7:00, especially the places that are mostly open for lunch.), so the Shawarma machine had already been turned off and cleaned up. Thank God, because there’s just no way that I would have been able to eat all that! My friend got his Fellafel spécial, and was blown away, while I finished off the appetizers. We were completely stuffed and very happy.

One of my favorite things about Paris is its approach to fast food. Yes, there are MacDo’s and Quick’s, but the fastest and cheapest food in town is by far the Sandwich, and its warm and crunchy cousin, the Panini. On just about any main street, and in higher concentrations in more populated areas like the Latin Quarter, you can find a boulangerie, patisserie, or sandwich stand. A Parisian sandwich is very simple: a foot-long (at least), thin baguette, with one or two ingredients and butter. Occasionally mayonnaise. The Jambon-Beurre (ham and butter) is absolutely the cheapest thing one could possibly get to eat, and goes for about 15-20FF. My personal favorite is the salmon, also 18-22FF--and where in the States could you ever find smoked-salmon on a baguette for three bucks? Let's just say I had my fill...

I read an article recently about the renovation of the Pompidou Center, better known as the Beaubourg, Paris’ Museum of Modern Art. According to the journalist, the building’s two founding architects were a bit at odds regarding the changes. While the exterior had been restored years before, this time the interior underwent a massive conversion, from sprawling free-form spaces to a kind of traditionally compartmentalized museum layout that runs counter to the designers’ original concept. The Beaubourg was the product of Richard Rogers and Renzo Piano’s “youthful innocence and naivete”, a radical, anti-authoritarian statement. Never-in-a-million-years did they think it would win, and certainly the French government would never allow it to be built. But the public—and the government—loved the inside-out design, and it became—paradoxically—a national treasure. But while the new layout for the Beaubourg’s interior may contradict the socialist principles of its inception, by and large, people like it. Before, the museum was located on the lower floors and the upper floors, divided in the middle by the library. Which made it difficult to move from one exhibition to the next. The very top floor, which offered the best view of Paris, was also part of the library, and all of the tourist traffic to the windows made it difficult for patrons to find a moment’s peace. Now, it is all much more logical. The library all together on the lower levels, the museum on 4, 5, and 6. In order to access the outside escalator, you must have a ticket to the museum. In order to see the view, you must have a ticket to the museum. Unless, of course, you are there to dine. In that case, I’m sure they’ll usher you straight up to the very chic rooftop restaurant—not exactly the place to stop off for a study break. In addition to the main museum, exhibit spaces, restaurant, and library, the center also houses theater space, cinemas, a conference center, and a children's part. When I was there, they had exhibitions of Picasso, Pierre Huyghe, Brassai, and Mariko Mori.

Architecturally striking, the Institute of Arabic Culture is easily identifiable from across the Seine. Looking down from Notre Dame, or across from the Ile St.-Louis, you notice this one curvy, modern steel structure standing out against the overwhelming beige of the rest of the city. The building is incredible. It houses a museum, a library, a bookstore, an auditorium, and a movie theatre. When I went, the main exhibit at the museum foregrounded the Coptic Art of Egypt, “two-thousand years of Christianity”—a significant, if often overlooked, part of the country’s history. The exhibit was interesting, not thrilling, and I spent most of my time in the bookstore, which was amazing. They have pretty much anything you’re looking for from Libya to Persia, Egypt to Morocco, from native authors to travel literature, music, art books, history, and politics. About half of the store is also devoted to knick-knacks of the sort that you’d buy in Tunisia or Turkey if you could, but since you only have enough money or time to stop in Paris, there you are... I must admit, I was very tempted by the pillowcases and the tapestries, but ended up buying a good stack of books instead.

When I was there, this three-story gallery had devoted all of its space to an exhibition of photographs by Sebastiao Salgado entitled 'Exodes'. Salgado's main preoccupation is the lives of refugees and exiles all over the world, and the pictures were quite moving. Two rooms were devoted to large-scale black-and-white portraits of refugee children, and another to scenes of large Asian cities. Most shocking were the photos of African refugee families, but overall the exhibit is definitely worth seeing. Admission is free Wednesday nights after 6pm.

I went to Disneyworld once, when I was six, and have never been to Disneyland in L.A., but as far as I could tell, Disneyland Paris was pretty much an exact replica of its American siblings. You enter the park on Main Street U.S.A. and proceed through Frontierland, Adventureland, Fantasyland, Tomorrowland--all as expected. We arrived at around 6pm on a Sunday evening and had five hours to make the rounds, so we quickly got our bearings and hit the highlights. The haunted house was just as lame, but with voiceovers in French, the Frontierland train was fun, though we didn't get nearly as wet as we had hoped, and Star Tours made me carsick. We waited about half-an-hour in line at each, and found ourselves completely in awe of the genius it must have taken to construct such complex labyrinths. By far, the highlight of the evening was Space Mountain. We arrived at about 10:40pm, twenty minutes before closing time, to find hoards of kids running to fit in as many rides as they could before the end of the day. One trip on this indoor rollercoaster and we found ourselves racing around with them to do it again! If you go, go at night and follow the above itinerary--four rollercoasters are more than enough for anyone above 15 yrs. old, and you may even want to leave more time for Space Mountain at the end!

When your feet get tired of shopping and sightseeing, the best place to stop and relax is the Luxembourg Gardens in the Left Bank (near the Latin Quarter). The thing to do is grab a sandwich or a panini (there are also kebabs and chinese takeout in the area), head into the park, and stake out a spot--benches in the shade, chairs in the sun, authorized portions of grass. Kind of like Paris' version of Central Park. It can get kind of crowded at lunchtime, and you'll have to really search to find a spot free of frolicking kids and chatty adolescents, but once you're comfortable, you could easily spend all day watching the (other!) tourists, reading, or even nodding off for awhile before resuming your aimless wandering-through-the-streets.