The first time I saw Paris
William Boyd
AROUND AND ABOUT PARIS, VOLUMES I-III by Thirza Vallois Iliad Books, £12.95 each Ifirst went to Paris in 1969, when I was 17, with my best friend, Charlie Bell. We were two callow sixth-formers determined to hitch-hike through France to the flesh- pots of the Cote d'Azur. We went to Paris only because we were given a lift there from London by a mutual friend, Rick, who duly dropped us at the access road of the main autoroute south. I think there were probably 200 other hitch-hikers waiting there already and after three hours, during which time the queue had barely dimin- ished, we decided to give up.
As luck would have it, Rick was staying in a large apartment on the Ile St Louis with a fine view of Notre Dame and a spare room was found for us as we plotted other means of getting out of the place and head- ing for the Mediterranean. It took us a week to decide that we should pool our meagre savings and catch a train, but in that week, wandering around aimlessly, we made our acquaintance with a small section of the city — St Germain, Boul' Mich, the southern quaffs of the Seine (and a small park near Notre Dame where we would lunch frugally, daily, on a baguette and sliced tomatoes) — which, 28 years later, still maps out my personal geography of the place. I am an irredeemable Left-Banker (as I suspect most non-Parisians are); the 5th, 6th and 7th arrondissements seem to contain all and more than I will ever need. Of course I venture elsewhere — the Marais, Montmartre, the 4th — but it is as if the city was defined for me by those indigent, fretful, peripatetic days we spent there in 1969.
I started returning to Paris regularly in the early Eighties when my novels began to be published in France. I suppose I have been going there four or five times a year ever since but I still never stray far from my usual haunts. Which is to confess that of these superb guides written by Thirza Vallois the only volume I have any qualification to assess is Volume I (1st-7th arrondissments). But if the other two volumes match the sheer mass of detail and anecdotal and scholarly information of the first, then I think we can safely toss all other Paris guidebooks aside.
I tried to catch her out. My publisher, Le Seuil, has its offices in an elegant building in the Rue Jacob (6th) whose façade is used as its colophon; an eminent and ven- erable firm, but it is not mentioned (fair enough; in fact, neither are the firms of Gallimard and Grasset, its great rivals). Not far away is a café I often visit, a little self-consciously artistic, but undeniably authentique all the same, called La Palette. This is what Thirza Vallois has to say:
At no. 43, on the corner of rue Jacques- Callot, La Palette is a stronghold of arty bohemia. The café has some exquisite ceramic decorations (signed Fouji: is it Foujita?) and it certainly has atmosphere, but it should only be visited by those who can tolerate a heavy veil of cigarette smoke and a surly welcome.
Couldn't agree more. What could I add, having visited the establishment for more than a decade? They do a nice line in tartines — an open sandwich of pain poildne with cheese or ham or pâté — and the loo is a genuine old-fashioned squatter, a ceramic-framed black hole picturesquely redolent of ancient sewers.
But this is_to nit-pick with inexcusable pedantry. Thirza Vallois writes about her city with passion and, more importantly, the unmistakable authority of first-hand knowledge. No visitor to the city (and, I suspect, more than a few Parisians could benefit also) who seriously wishes to ven- ture beyond the mere touristique could do better than follow the numerous walks Thirza Vallois has devised through the city's 20 arrondissements.
Paris is a small city, certainly compared to London. During the public transport strikes of last year a friend of mine told me he used to walk regularly from Montpar- nasse to his apartment in Montmartre effectively traversing two-thirds of Paris in 45 minutes. Paris is made for walking and Thirza Vallois' guides are made for Paris. There can be no higher praise than if I say they come close to the standard set by the world's greatest guide-book, J. G. Links's Venice for Pleasure. All that is required is that the publishers reformat them (they are heftyish volumes) in handy, pocket-size paperbacks of maybe three arrondissements per book and they should soon achieve similar legendary status.
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