Pauses in Passages

This reflection, The View from the Bench: Why the Best of Paris is Under Your Feet, originally appeared in our private dispatch, Passage Notes. Join us for deeper monthly reflections on the art of the pause.

The same amount of euros could be spent on an authentic dejeuner at a neighborhood brasserie. Because Paris isn’t just a destination on a bucket list. It’s a buffet of experiences waiting to not only be tasted, but also listened to, smelled, and felt. Not a buffet of food, but of senses. Like the pathways of crème-brûlée-colored gravel that crunches like a whisper beneath your feet and slips from your shoes like silt. If you find one lined with trees, perhaps in the Tuileries or Luxembourg Gardens, you’re in a Euro paradise.

Now when I return to Paris I spend money food shopping. Boulangeries for bread, fromagerie for cheese, and a charcuterie for sandwich meat. And the creme de la creme, the patisserie for dessert. That’s an experience you won’t find at the top of the Eiffel Tower. It’s as much a visual pleasure as a tasty one. Shiny cakes arrayed like jewels in a store window. Cuts of meat displayed in a charcuterie, Fresh baguettes you can smell from yards away that satisfy the ears with a crunch and the mouth with soft warmth. That’s the Paris I’ve come to love.

I try to use the few French words I know when I enter a shop. For a minute I feel worldly. Until I run out of words. Fortunately, Parisians do speak English, and will stop you and answer in English–eventually. I suspect they take just a bit of pleasure from watching the struggle. It reminds me of what Germans call schadenfreude. That feeling of slight superiority you feel from another’s misfortune. I don’t think it’s callous. It’s just human.

If you didn’t go on vacation to shop for your own food, you can go to a noisy Michelin-starred restaurant, and we have. But my favorite food finds have been in a neighborhood brasserie. One of my favorites is Au Chien Qui Fume (translated to The Smoking Dog), located on a quiet corner in the 1st arrondissement. When we were there, an actual dog lay on the sidewalk in front of the main entrance. He later ambled into the restaurant.

My favorite bistro treat is the buckwheat crepe, which the Bretons call a galette. It comes in a buckwheat shell, stuffed with Gruyère cheese and topped with ham and a fried egg. It’s bigger than the plate it comes on. And that exquisite moment when the texture of the buckwheat rolls in your mouth and the gooey cheese dances on your taste buds is something a camera phone will never capture.

The Louvre is every bit as popular as the Eiffel Tower and every bit as Parisian as the brasserie. Like Paris itself, it’s magnificently overwhelming. You could wander for a week and still not see everything there. The light coming in from the tall windows breaks up the vast spaces with slanted shards of sunlight. I stride across the floor feeling smarter than I am in my everyday life.

Standing in front of the Venus de Milo is one of the few times I felt the world melt. It brought me to tears. It wasn’t the art itself; it was the quiet knowing that I was standing in front of what I’d seen in books that I never thought I’d see in person. That’s lasted longer than the Eiffel Tower’s views have.

It may sound like I’m anti-Eiffel. But I’m not. One of the most magnificent Parisian sights you’ll see isn’t from the top of it. It’s the moment the Tower comes alive against a twilit Paris sky. The first time I saw it, my husband David and I were sitting on a bench along the Seine. We weren’t expecting it. A beam of white light circled the city and the twinkling light crawled the tower like spiders. It’s a spectacular sight that takes place every night.

And is as breathtaking as the view from the Tower itself.

The 14th arrondissement on Paris’ Left Bank houses part of the artistic Montparnasse and the bohemian Pernety districts. It’s also where you’ll find the melancholy Catacombs.

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Montparnasse

The Montparnasse district has a contemplative energy that sets it apart from other parts of Paris. But that’s true of most of the Left Bank, which has housed writers and philosophers like Ernest Hemingway and Simone de Beauvoir, who once lingered in cafés and brasseries like La Coupole, exchanging ideas that continue to linger.

Here, you’ll find fewer crowds but no less character: a place where locals savor coffee and conversation. The café tables and chairs that line the district’s expansive boulevards invite you to settle in rather than rush through.

It’s a place that celebrates creativity in the names inscribed on the headstones of Cimetière du Montparnasse and in the artistic designs created from bones in the dank Paris Catacombs. Unlike other parts of Paris, Montparnasse doesn’t demand attention; it rewards those who give it.

Montparnasse is easily reached by Metro from its main district hub, the Montparnasse-Bienvenüe station.

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Quiet Culture: The Paris Cemetery and The Catacombs of Paris

The Left Bank is the artistic heart of Paris. And while neither of these landmarks is considered art in a direct way, each celebrates it in its own way.

Quiet Culture: The Montparnasse Cemetery

Montparnasse Cemetery is like walking through an outdoor museum. Its paths wind past headstones of every size and shape, as well as sculpted monuments that are works of art in their own right. Creative thinkers and artists—like Jean-Paul Sartre and Samuel Beckett—are at rest here.

The grounds hold stillness, as though the noise of the city has been gently nudged aside. Here you can meander, pausing not just to read names, but to enjoy its tranquil atmosphere. It is less a destination than a pause—an invitation to reflect.

Opening hours for the cemetery at 3 Boulevard Edgar-Quinet, is Monday-Sunday 8 am – 6pm. You can roam the grounds for free. Maps are available on its website.

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The Catacombs of Paris

Beneath the streets of the 14th, the Catacombs of Paris offer a descent into the city’s quieter, more unsettling history.

The Catacombs are where the remains of those who died in the late 18th century were put to rest due to city overcrowding. Here, their neatly arranged bones are arranged in artistic, if macabre, collections. It’s at once orderly in a dim, cool space.

Visiting the catacombs is not about spectacle, but about the beauty one can find in the tragic and the lives that once filled the city above.

A visit to the Paris Catacombs on Colonel Henri Rol-Tanguy 75014 is starts from €25, €15 for youth 8-17 years old and free for children 7 years old and younger. The Catacombs are open Tuesday through Sunday from 9:45 am to 8:30 pm. I recommend buying a timed ticket to avoid crowds and allow for a more contemplative experience.

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