Le Tour Weekend (Friday Morning)

The best time to see a city is either early morning or late at night, before the sun is fully up or after the tourists have gone to bed. I'm out on the street by 7:45 local time and call home (forgetting the hours time difference), fortunately Janis is up although she does rather pointedly remind me of the hours time difference.

I'm on Ligne 2 from Etoile to Jaures as I want to photograph the Canal St Martin, it's a beautiful Friday morning in Paris and according to one digital thermometer I've seen it's already in the low twenties. Not for the first time I curse the BBC weather forecast that had told me to expect three days of rain in Paris, as it turns out it will rain for one hour tonight and that's it.

Paris has become so familiar over the past three years that I feel spoilt by it. I've determined beforehand that I will avoid the open air airport lounge that is the Champs Elysees before Sunday morning and try and stay clear of the other more obvious tourist areas, familiarity breeds contempt and I'm aware that too much familiarity will take off some of the thrill of returning here again.

Walking along the banks of the Canal St Martin it's easy to forget that you are in the heart of one of Europe's major cities. There are hundreds of films made every year on the streets of Paris (more than any other city in Europe) and on the Quai de Valmy I watch a scene from one of this years being shot, locals pass-by with typical Parisian nonchalance, "seen one film shoot, you've seen them all," seems to be the attitude.

Heading west I make my way via Republique towards Strasbourg St Denis. The Rue St Denis isn't your typical tourist route, in fact in some guides the northern end of it is a definite, "stay clear at night times' area. Crime in Paris against tourists (or anyone for that matter) consists largely of pickpockets or low-level annoyance, women from Bosnia who come up to you and ask if you speak English before doing their begging routine. I've encountered one particular young woman three years running now and her English gets better each time I see her. Anyway back to the Rue St Denis, it begins across the road from Agre de l'Est and runs parallel with the Boulevard de Strasbourg all the way down to Les Halles. At the northern end it is all about the schmutter trade and on street every corner gangs (consisting of three or four men of North African appearance) stand waiting with sack trolleys for the arrival of the day's merchandise. The northern end of the street is also the area where you'll encounter prostitutes, even at nine in the morning, there's not a woman below the age of sixty among them, one of them says "Bonjour," as I pass, her boobs are so big and so droppy I'm sure they must be tucked in the top of her skirt, she looks so old I'm not entirely convinced she didn't once say "Bonjour," to the U.S Army on it's way east to Berlin.

Proceeding south the fashion houses are soon followed by bars, clubs, restaurants and then the sex shops and sex clubs, fortunately at this time of the day they are closed and the only liquids being sprayed in the area belong to the ubiquitous street cleaning machines.

Now we in England are all too familiar with the national attitude towards sex and we could talk long and hard (ooer missus) about how we don't really do sex in a grown-up way. Contrast that with the French. This year, as with every other year, the Mairie De Paris (Tourism Office) produces a free guide to visitors and there on page 30 of this years guide is the following:

Sexy Show: An incredibly hard show. You'll be really turned on by the beautiful exciting girls. Sexual relations between lesbian or couples are not simulated. Men 50 Euros, Women 30 Euros. Metro Chatelet.

Can't imagine Boris Johnson doing the same for London somehow.



I walk from the end of Rue St Denis to the Pont au Change.