Mad about the Seine

There's only one city in the world in hich emotion seems to hang in the very air, writes DENISE McNABB*.

At a table against the wall, under the claret hue of a low-slung lamp, a slender woman, forty-something, chiselled and chic, walks her long fingers over his face. They shimmy together for an enduring, libidinous performance, their token purchase, a bottle of beer, not touched on this warm autumn night.

Behind, a couple eat in sulky silence until he suddenly drops on bended knees beside her. If he is grovelling over past sins she doesn't want a bar of it. She leaves, he padding forlornly behind.

Like amateur Maigrets we deduce the first pair to be a businessman and his mistress, the second a husband and his wife who had found out about his mistress. When Parisians have ardour or anger on their mind, it seems any place will do to air emotions.

We are dining at Zimmer's Brasserie, a theatrically flavoured restaurant. Built in 1876 on the edge of Place du Chatelet, it is a short stroll from the Sunset Club on rue des Lombards, a popular - albeit noisy - cavern which lures aficionados with classy jazz acts. We are lucky enough to have tickets.

This part of town is the fourth arrondissement, one of 20 precincts that carve the 78 sq km inner city of Paris into a precise home for 2.13 million well-heeled hopefuls and an increasing number of homeless.

The Hotel de Ville (town hall) is across the square and, not far away, the achingly beautiful cathedral of Notre Dame rules over Isle de la Cite, Paris' historic heart, in the River Seine.

It is not hard to believe those cliches about Paris being "the most romantic city on Earth."

From the moment you hit her pavements you can feel the mood. It plucks at the senses and overwhelms. If ever a city could evoke such awe while at the same time making you feel so totally insignificant, Paris would be it.

"Oh, look at this, look at that," we say, without thinking of the repetitiveness of it all, at the same time realising why the expression "oh la la" is hopelessly at home here.

So many monuments, plumed palaces, pillared institutions, tailored and topiaried gardens and arty edifices, each more splendid than the next, pomp and grandeur at one end of the scale, rakish charm at the other.

Paris has 63 museums. If you stood in front of each piece in the Louvre for just 30 seconds, it would take you six months, five days and three hours.

To put it in perspective, a good place for first-time visitors to start is Paris-Story at 11bis rue Scribe near the Opera de Paris. This excellent multi-media show (recently upgraded with a hologram of Victor Hugo as the narrator) takes you back to the Celtic invasions of the Parisii in 300 BC for a historical, architectural and cultural journey through the centuries, logging tragedies and triumphs along the way.

The city's narrow alleyways are chock-a-block with limestone apartments, coloured uniform seahorse cream with licorice grilles over their windows and grey slate roofs that dip like turned-down hat brims over their fronts. By 19th-century planning decree, none are higher than six levels. They are dreamy and expensive.

On the Left Bank of the Seine we pass No 76 rue Bonaparte, facing a handkerchief-sized square graced with an ornate fountain. This is the home of Catherine Deneuve, the movie actress whose face was copied for the statue that stands in Place de la Republique as a symbol of the republic. Deneuve's apartment would set you back the thick end of $18,000 a square metre.

I F THE WAY to a man's heart is through his stomach it is hardly surprising that the French invented restaurants. In Paris they line streets and splay over every conceivable corner, outdoor chairs parked in tidy rows facing outwards so diners can watch the world go by.

At Le Pain Quotidien in Rue Mouffetard, a charming street in the hallowed Latin Quarter on the Left Bank, we eat at a long, wide, wooden table. Open sandwiches smothered in artichokes, sun-dried tomatoes, deli meats, salmon and cream cheese, old-fashioned salads topped with grated carrots, wedges of fruit and caramel tarts, washed down with apple juice and coffee, are the shared order of the day at €18.32 ($38) a person.

Apparently some bright spark came up with this concept as a chain of restaurants because the French - Parisians in particular - were becoming too wound up in their own existence to share it with others.

Rue Mouffetard is a delightful place to meander. Large, dappled trees shade a church courtyard where people rest on park benches in front of a tiny, manicured lawn. In a market barrows are burdened with fruit - giant, purply-pink figs, apples polished golden, fat raspberries and strawberries, chestnuts, exotic dragonfruit and tiny, rosy currants.

A fromagerie brims with soft, creamy blue cheeses, bright orange rind cheddar and milky goat's feta. Down a cobbled lane, stuffed behind a patisserie window, are mouth-watering gateaux, coffee meringues, brioches and macaroons. Yeasty, syrupy smells waft from its door. Further down there is a chocolatier and a flower vendor, buried behind his aluminium buckets of blooms, splashed in every hue.

The most romantic and undoubtedly the most touristy pastime in Paris would have to be a candlelit dinner cruise on the Seine. Not that this should put you off. Nor the price, about €88.85.

As you warm up with Bizet's Carmen while gliding past the Louvre and turn misty-eyed over Ave Maria in front of Notre Dame, sung by a wafer-thin chanteuse who is a flame-headed double for Nicole Kidman in Moulin Rouge, price is already forgotten.

From Edith Piaf's La Vie en Rose to New York, New York, she is backed by an exuberant violinist who strums up a storm as the boat glides past the Eiffel Tower under powerful floodlights on the glass-roofed boat.

We are dining on frogs' legs cake with slow-

simmered sorrel, thinly sliced goose fillets glazed with bergamote de Nancy and Grand Marnier ice-cream souffle with crystallised oranges, washed down with kir and a moreish Bordeaux.

Reserve at least one coffee treat in the city for a cafe on the Champs-Elysees. Get there by walking 4 or 5km from the art deco Samaritaine department store, which has a splendid rooftop view.

Travel along the Right Bank of the Seine and through the structured park of Les Tuileries, a long stretch between the Louvre and Place de la Concorde. Here statues are prolific and a fountain is circled by seats facing inward and occupied on Sundays by immaculately dressed people who watch their children playing with boats.

It is cheaper to drink inside than streetside at Parisian cafes. And on the Champs-Elysees expect to pay a premium for coffee, as it is the tourists' favourite haunt. Five euros for a flat white might seem exorbitant. But what the heck. Do it just because you are there.

Case notes

Getting to France: Cathay Pacific flies daily to Paris, via Hong Kong. From now until the end of March, the return economy class fare to Paris is $2199, including two nights in Hong Kong. From April 1, the return economy class fare to Paris is $2399, including two nights in HK.

Transport in Paris: A bus or taxi from the two main airports in Paris, Roissy-Charles de Gaulle (26km to the north) and Orly (6km to the south), both take about 45 minutes. Driving in Paris is chaotic but public transport is excellent, cheap and punctual. The underground Metro has 14 lines. A ticket costs €1.2 and a book of 10 tickets (a carnet) €8.85.

Seine boat trip: Bateaux Parisiens is one of six operators that run cruises on the Seine. Expect to pay about $184 for a five-course, candlelit dinner cruise with musicians playing.

Exchange Rate: One euro is worth about $2.07. French francs will not be in circulation after February 28.

Accommodation: Hotels are moderately to expensively priced in Paris. Expect to pay a minimum of $300 a night for anything decent near the city centre, even in the shoulder season. A room at the Hotel Libertel Terminus Est, opposite the Gare de L'Est railway station, for example, starts from $306 a night. All accommodation is subject to a visitor's tax levy of €0.15 to €1.06 . There are 75,000 rooms in Paris. When the French take summer holidays between July 15 and August 31 so accommodation is at premium .

When to go: Paris in January is a chilly 3C. Snow is common but the temperature rises to an average 26C in July. There is less rainfall during the winter than in spring and summer.

Visas: They are not needed for stays of up to three months.


* Denise McNabb travelled to France as a guest of Cathay Pacific Airways and Maison de la France.