The perfect city

The great tragedy of having lived in more than one place is that I will never, ever live close to all of my friends at once (more on that topic here). The great annoyance is that I am constantly being reminded that no society can be good at everything. For everything London excels at, it fails at something else. And while I can spend the rest of my life travelling in search of a city that has it all, I know that will only make me miss whatever I liked about my other cities more.

Just in case any of you know where I can find my ideal city, this is how the perfect synthesis between Oslo, Paris and London would work (I haven’t included Boston, because I haven’t lived there as an adult):

The city would essentially look like central Paris: a mix of wide boulevards and charming cobble-stoned pedestrian streets, with sidewalk cafés and well-dressed people. Some of the parks would be designed by Englishmen in the late 1800s. There would be at least one dramatic modern building in the style of the Oslo opera house. The city would be surrounded by Norwegian nature.

Buildings would all be built by Norwegians, as they are the only culture out of the three who prepare for winter rather than deny its existence. Single-glazed windows, insufficient ventilation and inadequate heating would be illegal. All apartments would have nice kitchens.

The British would be in charge of public transportation, as well as providing information about this service. All other forms of communication and information technology (including online banking) would be run by Norwegians. There would be telephone service everywhere, from the tops of the surrounding ski slopes to the deepest tunnels of the underground system – and free WiFi in parks, thanks to a suggestion from the French.

The French would have the overall responsibility for food, but they would be forced to import international wine. Norwegian salmon and Norwegian bread would be available even in the smallest corner shops. Most restaurants would work like in Paris: with affordable three-course standard menus served by waiters who took their jobs seriously and didn’t expect tips. Influences from the Brits would ensure some international flavor varieties like Indian, Mexican and Chinese food, but the English would be discouraged from trying to sell their own pies and mashed things to people. The cafés would be French, but with coffee from Norway.

The pubs would of course be English, but with a wide selection of draught beer from around the world. Everyone would cooperate on other forms of nightlife, but the Norwegians would be completely barred from any attempts to control alcohol policy, including prices and closing time for pubs and bars. This would instead generally be governed by the French.

People would buy their French clothes, French lingerie and French shoes from British sales assistants. These sales people would take lessons in customer service from Americans, but tone it down to a less insistent European level. Thanks to the Norwegians, winter boots and other shoes with good sensible soles would always be available. Norwegians would teach people how to dress in winter; the French in every other season.

In public places, the people would somehow combine the passion of the French with the manners of the English. They would queue and make reserved small talk, but still kiss each other in public. The English would be in charge of television and humor and entertainment in general, so there would be a lot of trilingual wordplay.

If anyone should ever wish to leave, the airport runway would be de-iced by the Norwegians.

Related posts:

• Hunting for coffee in the land of tea – Why coffee wouldn’t be English
• Coffee in Paris – Why coffee wouldn’t be French
• First impressions of living in London

Image sources: Paris Guinness Nature

Paris off the top of my head (translated into English)

This is a translation of a mini-guide to Paris I sent to a friend years ago. I posted the original Norwegian version on this site back then, and now that a friend who doesn’t speak Norwegian is off to Paris, I’ve translated it.

Let’s start with the view from the top floor of the Pompidou Art Museum in the fourth arrondissement:

I prefer to see the Eiffel Tower either like this, or from Champ de Mars or Trocadero. If you insist on going up to the top of Eiffel Tower, take the stairs as far up as possible. There is a line specifically for people who want to walk (shorter than the line for the elevator) and it’s cheaper. To get up the very top, you have to buy an additional ticket.

Museums are often free in the evenings on specific days if you are under 26 (student or not). I’ve added the days of the week when they were free back in 2008 to these brief museum descriptions:

• Pompidou, the world’s largest collection of modern art. The building is interesting in itself, and it’s in my favorite part of town. Go up to the top floor and enjoy the view. (Free on Wednesday nights)
• Musée d’Orsay, the art museum you should see if you only see one. All the great impressionists, in an old train station. (Free on Thursday nights)
• Louvre, actually really stressful. I think the paintings are too close together, and it’s just too big. Go in with a plan, know what you want to see, and then get out. (Free on Friday nights)

My favorite of the 20 arrondissements is the fourth. In addition to the Pompidou, this is where you find Notre Dame, the world’s best ice cream from Berthillon on the island behind the Notre Dame and Le Marais, an area with cobble-stone streets, fantastic fallafel and Jewish bakeries. There are plenty of bars and restaurants here too, as well as my favorite place for coffee in Paris, Soluna Caféotheque (52, rue de l’Hôtel de Ville, Pont Marie metro stop). (Read my guide to coffee in Paris for more coffee info) This is also where you’ll find the stalls that sell used books on both sides of the Seine, and on the left bank, Shakespeare and Company, the English language book store where “Before Sunset” starts.

Once you’ve crossed over to the left bank, you’re in the Latin Quarter in the 6th arrondissement. This is the traditional student area, so there are affordable restaurants and lots of bars. You can eat a traditional three course meal here for less than 20 euros. Afterwards, I recommend sharing pitchers of sangria at Le Dix (10, rue Odeon, Odeon metro stop).

For slightly more than 20 euros, you can get a slightly better version of the traditional snails+baguette+duck+vegetables+crème brûlée at Au Pied du Sacré Coeur (85, rue Lamarck). It’s in Montmartre, right by the Sacré Coeur (hence the name). There are MANY good restaurants in Paris, but if you’re in Montmartre, this is a nice one. Then go up to the cathedral, enjoy the view and watch people drinking beer and playing music on the church steps.

If you get off the metro at Opera, you’ll be surrounded by shopping opportunities, including all the chain stores and the big department stores Galleries Lafayette and Printemps. I did most of my non-grocery shopping at Lafayette when I lived in Paris (both the shoe department and the lingerie floor are excellent). The Marais also has some good stores, and vintage shopping in Rue de la Pompe in the 16th arrondissement is good. Les Halles and rue Rivoli also have all the standard brands for clothing and shoes. My favorite French brands are Comptoirs des Cotonniers (clothes, including good trench coats), Aubade (lingerie) and Parcours (shoes).

Related articles:

• Coffee in Paris
• May in Paris
• Rant of the day: Parisian weather
• Passing strangers

Illegal = global

I never downloaded music illegally at all – until internet radio Pandora became off limits because I didn’t live in the US.

The market for illegal mp3 files is global, while the market for legal music is still supposed to be limited by international borders. Why?

Øyvind Solstad at NRK Beta writes (in Norwegian):

One world – not 200 countries.

The music- and film industry seems to think we still cross the Atlantic in steam boats, and that we don’t hear about things that happen in the US just because we live in Norway. So they ignore the fact that young people don’t think about international borders and where things come from. (…) People don’t understand why they can’t listen to some songs on Spotify in Norway, but if they drive over the Swedish border and go to an internet café they can. They don’t understand why they can’t see American music videos on YouTube or shows on Hulu.com. They don’t accept that slow bosses in the music- and film industry still haven’t come up with a system where an artist can release their music all over the world (Øyvind Solstad, my translation).

Almost exactly a year ago, I wrote about this problem for journalism class at the American University of Paris (click "continue reading" for the full article).

A week later, my American friend was trying to buy a song from iTunes. She couldn’t, because her laptop was American. I could buy it for her, because my laptop was Norwegian.

We were both in Paris at the time.

That is absolutely ridiculous.

"My problem is simple – I love food"

"Today I have been thinking about my thin friends and why they are thin. Three of them are thin because their husbands left them and they dropped weight likes stones into water.

I ask my husband if he will leave me for a while. He shakes his head. (…) Where does this leave me then?"

- Lucy Cavendish

Joyous playlist

During our last weeks in Paris, Julie and I listened to her "Joyous playlist" on her iPod as we walked back and forth between my basement apartment by Invalides and her host parents’ apartment across the street from the Bonne Marchée.

Some people say I listen to depressing music. I once played Damien Rice’s "O" at work, and my co-workers seemed worried. I don’t think it’s depressing. Unless of course, you have something to be depressed about.

So in case you need it, here’s a joyous list of songs. It starts with one that will always remind me of sitting on a yoga mat at Invalides, eating strawberries before finals, being happy and knowing that everything is about to change.

Window shopping

You may have pennies in your pocket and not a prospect in the world, and only the corner of a leaky bedroom to go home to; but in your new clothes, you can stand on a street corner, indulging in a private daydream of yourself as Marlene Dietrich. – George Orwell, 1937

There is something to be said for retail therapy. It does not work in the long term, but pretty things have an immediate calming effect.

The one time I actually bought something on a retail therapy shopping trip, it was my one (!) pair of painful shoes, and it was after a disastrous macro economics exam. They made my feet bleed, but they’re still shiny and low-cut and go with everything (silver and gold goes with everything!)

The safest and most enjoyable window shopping is after the shops close. I recommend Avenue Montaigne at night. But browser-window shopping is more convenient, and still safe if you keep your credit card in another room. And so… some fashion links.

Dressed for anything

Anyone who knows Norwegian culture, knows that the social norms are very different in the woods and mountains than they are in the cities. Norwegian skiers and hikers greet and even smalltalk with strangers, but this will never happen on an Oslo street (unless the Norwegians are drunk). The rules of fashion vary too. One of my first blog posts ever was about the "hytte look". After spending a weekend in the woods with my new college class, I wrote about the way Norwegians dress when they head up to mountain cottages. There is an unspoken rule that even if the only "hiking" you do is walking for half an hour on an asphalt road, you should still put on your "hiking outfit" (Like this or this or this, or maybe something like this). 

After a semester with Americans in Paris, and recently entertaining an American Eurail tourist for a long weekend, I’ve had some interesting Europe vs. US fashion conversations. During one of these conversations, I realized that when Norwegians leave Oslo and head up into the woods, they become Americans – friendly, but badly dressed.

Despite the many "dress like a European" tips in American travel books and websites (an example), I can usually spot the Americans on any European city street. Not only are travellers in general easily recognizable with their philosophy of "in order to be ready for anything on this trip, I must always dress as if I were about to climb Mount Everest, even if I’m just walking down a Norwegian street".  But as my American backpacker friend explained, they don’t want to overdress, because then it looks like they care too much.

"So I should make an effort to dress down so that Americans won’t think I’m making an effort?" I ask. Maybe I’m too much of a European city girl, but to me, that doesn’t make sense. 

There are sensible rules for what to wear in more or less extreme conditions. But often the most important reason for wearing hiking clothes or “travelling” clothes is to show the others that you are above such silly things as fashion, that all you care about is practical matters, and that you are now leaving your superficial, fashion-conscious city life behind and returning to nature. And we all know that high-tech windproof jackets are much more natural than, say, cashmere sweaters.

Coco Chanel once said: "I don’t understand how a woman can leave the house without fixing herself up a little – if only out of politeness. And then, you never know, maybe that’s the day she has a date with destiny. And it’s best to be as pretty as possible for destiny." When I think of dressing so that I’m ready for anything, I have something more Chanel-ish in mind. She also said: "Luxury must be comfortable, otherwise it is not luxury." So I never buy anything uncomfortable, and that includes never buying anything I think is ugly.

I’ve wanted to read a chapter of Almost French to both this backpacker and many of the other people who think I "try too hard". Almost French is a highly recommended book about an Australian girl who visits a man (Frédéric) in Paris, and decides to stay with him there. Continue reading for a short version of this chapter, which explains the Paris approach to dressing.

Paris off the top of my head

De første Paristips jeg kommer på når folk spør – ingen grunn til å ikke dele dette med alle norske lesere.

Paris-tips har jeg alt for mange av. Her er noen, sånn off the top of my head.

Skal dere opp i Eiffeltårnet, gå i trappene så langt opp som mulig. Det er en egen kø for det, som er kortere enn heiskøen, og det koster mindre. For å komme opp i det øverste nivået, kjøper du en tilleggsbillett når du har gått opp trappene så langt det er mulig. Eiffeltårnet er egentlig best hvis man opplever det enten fra Champ de Mars, eller Trocadero. Jeg synes utsikten fra Sacré Cæur eller Pompidou er minst like fin.

Museer er ofte gratis på kvelden på spesifike utedager, for alle under 26 år (student eller ikke student)

• Onsdag kveld: Pompidou (verdens største samling av moderne kunst, og bygningen er i seg selv interessant. Fantastisk utsikt, og den ligger i mitt favorittområde.)

• Torsdag kveld: Musée d’Orsay (det kunstmuseet du skal se, hvis du bare skal se ett. Alle de store impresjonistene.)

• Fredag kveld: Louvre. Egentlig ganske slitsomt. Jeg synes bildene henger for tett sammen, og det er alt for stort. Men, hvis du har mulighet til å se Mona Lisa gratis, er jo det fint.

Min yndlingsbydel er den fjerde (20 arrondissements til sammen). Der finner du Notre Dame, verdens beste is på Berthillon på øya back Notre Dame, Le Marais som er den jødiske bydelen, med små brostensgater og fantastisk fallafel og jødiske bakerier. Mange barer i dette området også, i tillegg til Soluna Caféotheque (52, rue de l’Hôtel de Ville, Pont Marie metro stopp) (Mer kaffeinfo her) Det er også her du finner både bruktbok-bodene langs begge sider av Seinen, og på venstre bredd, Shakespeare and Company, den engelskspråklige bokhandelen der filmen"Before Sunset" begynner, og der man kan overnatte hvis man er fattig forfatter.

Fortsetter du vekk fra elven på venstre bredd, er du i Latinerkvarteret i 6e arrondissement. Dette er det tradisjonelle studentområdet, så her er det rimelige spisesteder og mange utesteder. Du kan spise bra tre-retters måltider til under 20 euro her, og etterpå anbefaler jeg sangria på Le Dix, 10, rue Odeon (Odeon metrostopp)

For bittelitt mer penger, kan du få en litt bedre versjon av samme tradisjonelle snegle-baguette-kjøtt-grønnsaker-crème brûlée kombinasjon på Au Pied du Sacré Coeur, 85, rue Lamarck i Montmartre. Det finnes MANGE bra restauranter i Paris, men der har du i hvert fall ett konkret tips. Foran Sacré Coeur er det alltid liv og folk som drikker øl og spiller musikk om kvelden.

Går man av metroen på Opera, finner man all kjedebutikker og de to store varemagasinene Galleries Lafayette og Printemps. Marais har en del fine butikker, og vintage shopping i Rue de la Pompe i 16e arrondissement er bra. Les Halles og rue Rivoli skal visst også være bra for standard kles- og skoshopping, men for å være ærlig, handlet jeg langt mindre i Paris enn man skulle tro, gitt at dette er motehovedstaden.

May in Paris

Since we have so little time left in this city, each day should be "miraculous", according to Julie*. Finals? What finals?

Miraculous things to do in Paris on a long weekend:

• Eat as many meals as possible outside.
• Drink wine with all meals except breakfast (a baguette and some strawberries is a meal btw)
• Make an effort to trick tourists into thinking that all Parisian girls are cute and friendly. Pose for photos in the park, wave at boats on the Seine and give up your park bench to people whose French is worse than your own(!).
• Listen to musicals that take place in Paris (Les Miserables, Moulin Rouge etc). Sing along. In public.
• Visit the Orangerie to see Monet’s water lilies. Get yelled at for being too loudly happy about it.
• Dip your toes into the Seine and think about how disgusting – and embarrassing – it would be to fall in.
• Go to Showcase, a club conveniently located under the Alexander bridge, to hear a band called – of course – The Parisians. Try to avoid getting your feet squashed by the group’s biggest (literally) and most enthusiastically jumping fan in the front row.
• Spend Saturday night watching a movie with a friend rather than going out – you know you’re "at home" when that feels acceptable.
• Waste time in the Tuilleries.
• Live on a diet of dessert, fruit and wine – and maybe some "fake chicken" at a vegetarian restaurant in the Marais.
• Walk. The Paris metro is great, but why charge your Navigo Decouverte when walking lets you waste time and get sunburned?

Soundtrack for all these miracles:  

The Legionnaire’s Lament, by The Decemberists

* According to this Julie, and also according to Julie Balise

Testing…

I am testing Windows Live Writer. If this works, blogging without a stable Internet connection will be possible. But I actually started this post to tell you that I am not planning on blogging that much this month. It is my last month in Paris, the weather gods seem to have come to their senses after my rant, and I would like to spend my time doing things that do not require me to be inside near a source of electricity.

Right now for example, I wouldn’t mind being on the Champ de Mars with my classmates, after having said "Yes please!" to supposedly "Italian" vodka smoothies and Czech beer, rather than: "No thank you, I need to write this afternoon." AUP just had "world’s fair", where the nationalities of the school are represented with tables of food and alcohol. I have had coffee from Saudi Arabia and food from Thailand, Sweden, the USA, Romania and Armenia for lunch. And now I’m back in a very much deserted university library, sitting by an open window and hearing birds chirp in the courtyard outside. I am writing a paper on Joseph Nye. And you know what? I’m really enjoying the day, even though I’m stuck inside. And if I get some work done now, I will reward myself by spending the evening on the steps in front of Sacre Cæur.

I will be leaving Paris on the morning of Thursday, May 22nd.