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If you’ve only got a few days in Paris, you’d have a coronary trying to fit in all the ‘must-see’ sights and landmarks. Personally, I think the best way to see Paris is to stroll it – you can’t get lost and even if you do, there’s something beautiful to see around every corner. If you’ve already seen all the Parisian sights, take this as an opportunity to simply amble round what must be the best walking city in the world, sans pressure to tick off any obligatory cultural must-sees. 

We stayed in a tiny sun-dappled attic-floor Airbnb with views of the back of the Sacré-Cœur, and spent most of the time admiring the view from the bed and occasionally popping down the six storeys (most traditional Parisian apartments don’t have an elevator) to our nearest Carrefour for delicious $2 pate and brie.

When the guilt of the laziness got too much we’d stumble out after our third croissant and just ..walk. We were just below Montmarte so it made sense for us to start there. We looked for the narrow, lamplit staircases that lead up to the ‘bee-hive’ basilica and tiny bohemian Montmartre with its terrible souvenir shops and spectacular views of the Paris skyline. From here we headed directly south to the beautiful Jardins du Palais Royal with its distinctive black and white pillar installation, and then continued south to the museum of all museums – the Louvre. Whether you choose to go in or not depends on how tight for time you are, but I find the striking modern architecture of the museum’s facade against the surrounding classical palaces just as incredible as anything inside.

From the Louvre we took a meandering river-front walk past the Pont Neuf and the antiquarian bookstalls (bouquinistes) selling used and unique books with their delicate, sun-bleached pages and protective plastic. Here you’ll get the best view of the very heart of Paris – Île de la Cité. From up high you can see the island and its characteristic pointy tip surrounded by the glittering Seine, without the throngs of crowds and souvenir shops. Île de la Cité is popular for a reason – as well as being where it all started (Paris sprung up here originally as a Roman fortress), it’s also home to one of the most spectacular examples of gothic architecture in the world – Notre Dame Cathedral.

From here we headed north to the bohemian and charming Marais district. Here you’ll find ivy-adorned bistros with the classic wicker chairs and tiny round tables that are just big enough to fit two café-au-laits and a croque monsieur. From Marais you can return south into the less crowded (and I’d say more charming) of the two islands this side of the Seine – Île Saint-Louis. With its medieval alleyways and traditional boulangeries and cafes, Saint-Louis feels more untainted than its more glamorous neighbour, and has a village-like pace of its own that makes it seem somehow cut off from the rest of Paris. On Point de la Tournelle is where I found the best view of the spidery gothic buttresses of of Notre Dame Cathedral.

The remarkable thing about areas of Paris like Île Saint-Louis is that you can realistically imagine that you’ve stumbled onto the stage-set of a movie – a small béreted boy shouts bonjour as he scuttles by on his bicycle, a handsome student reads (or poses with) a leather-backed edition of the Les Fleurs du Mal, and an elegantly dressed couple carrying paper bags of baguettes opens the huge wooden door to their Haussmann apartment..but fortunately this isn’t the only side of Paris. Paris is not just elegant boulevards and gilded buildings, and it’s precisely this uncompromising realism of a sprawling, wizened city with a rich and turbulent history that makes Paris so intriguing. The sometimes relentless grey weather, ubiquitous graffiti and famously rude service that can bring on the so-called ‘Paris Syndrome’ is what makes Paris real and for that reason, sexy – like a modern-day Godard rather than a listless romcom. A description of Paris’ ultimate symbol – the Eiffel Tower – as looking like ‘iron lace’ seems apt as a description of Paris in general.

From Île Saint-Louis we walked through Saint-Germain-de-prés to reach the inner city oasis that is the Jardins du Luxembourg. We crossed the bridge over to the heart of Paris’ literary Left Bank, where authors and artists once lived and frequented the cafes. Still existing are the famous Café de Flore – a favourite with Jean-Paul Sartre, Albert Camus and Picasso, and the Deux Magots, preferred by Hemmingway, Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir. Though it’s not the original bookstore frequented by authors like James Joyce, Shakespeare and Co. (1951) is a beautiful oak labyrinth of a bookstore selling antiquarian, used and new books and is a free reading library open to anyone. It also houses aspiring writers in exchange for help around the shop; since it’s opening, more than 30,000 people have slept in beds tucked in between its maze of bookshelves.

From here, by now evening, we strolled down the tree-lined boulevards of Saint-Germain-de-prés and searched for dinner down the crooked cobblestone corridors of the Latin Quarter.  Evening is the perfect time to visit Saint-Germain, as it’s harder to see the glaring souvenir shops by lamplight.

Obviously this is an ambitious stroll to do in just a day, but if that’s all the time you have or you’re up for the challenge, it’s a half-hour post-dinner stroll to the beginning of the Champ de Mars where you can see the Eiffel Tower at night, when it lights up and sparkles dreamily over Paris for five minutes, every hour on the hour.



It’s a cliche’ that’s used for a lot of places, but in this case it’s undeniably true – Hong Kong is the ultimate city (or territory) of contrasts. A favourite maxim – ‘where East meets West’- highlights the region’s Chinese roots and the western cultural elements it gained from its time as a British colony. This fusion of cultures can be seen in the architecture, lifestyle, and perhaps most clearly in the food. While sterile, ultra-commercial dining options like Mcdonalds or Starbucks abound, you can also wonder through chaotic market stalls past spiky, strange-looking fruit, desiccated, undefinable fish-things, and dark-coloured eggs that look like they’re boiling in tar.

One of Hong Kong’s most interesting contrasts is its symbiosis of an ultra-modernized lifestyle with traditional Chinese customs. Ancient concepts like Feng Shui – the Chinese art of positioning objects or structures so as to harmonize with nature – has firm roots in the city’s culture. In fact the plan and design of a building in Hong Kong is determined as much by Feng Shui masters as it is by engineers and architects. Often, buildings lack any floor number with a 4 in it, due to its similarity to the Cantonese word for ‘death’.

Hong Kong’s uniquely paradoxical and thus (I think) beautiful aesthetic is forged by determined efforts to reconcile the city’s origins as a humble fishing harbour and its current status as one of the most fast-paced powerhouses in the world.  Flashing skyscrapers tower above immutable colonial buildings like the Old Supreme Court and the ancient-looking junks that timelessly cruise Victoria Harbour. The glittering, glass designer storefronts of the North Shore lie in stark contrast to the dingily romantic, slum-like noir of the alleyways of Kowloon. Kowloon is itself a microcosm of contrasts. Dark, empty backalleys are filled with the discarded trash from business back-exits while thick, tangled electrical wires hang like some sort of urban python. The wires feed the kaleidoscope of neon signs in the chaotic main streets of Kowloon, piercing fluorescent colour onto otherwise dreary, beige-grey towerblocks.

The hard-edged rectangles of these ubiquitous tower blocks are juxtaposed by the graceful, dimly-blue mountain peaks that surround the city. Though it boasts the status of most urbanised city in the world, country parks actually account for 40% of the total area. Hong Kong’s urban planning is necessarily one of the most meticulous and strategic in the world, but the nature around it remains wild, rugged, untamed. The hiking and coastal walks around the territory offer some of the most impressive views in China.

But you don’t need to head to the outskirts to find incredible views. Any high-rise hotel or apartment block will likely offer aerial views of the city and the perennial mist below. Standing amidst the clouds you feel strangely close to nature, at the top of a concrete tower-block, in a room 10 sq metres across.

Walking around at night feels like being in a Sci-fi movie or videogame. Some areas of the city – the functionally named Central and Mid-Levels – connect vertically rather than horizontally, reached by a network of interconnecting outdoor escalators, with drop offs on the way so as to access poky-looking noodle or dim sum stalls with flickering signs. I could picture Bruce Willis eating at his favourite floating noodle joint in Fifth Element. The view from Victoria’s peak on a misty night (almost always) is a scene directly from Bladerunner, with the fluorescent lights of the sprawling city piercing hazily through the inky Hong Kong fog.

It’s surely no coincidence that so much Sci-fi literature is based in Hong Kong. The territory’s various contradictions, particularly the juxtaposition of old and new, allows it to effectively present the message of a utopian, familiar past and a lonely dystopian future. The city offers nostalgia, while simultaneously existing in a shiny, futuristic realm. This uniqueness makes Hong Kong unlike any other fast-paced, commercial city. Singapore, for example, is just as corporate, just as ultra-modern, but it struggles to conceal its corporateness. For me at least, it simply doesn’t feel as exotic or seductive as the inky mist of Hong Kong City.