Place de Voges

Now I know what Eric Maisel was getting at. Place de Voges is one of the most magical places I’ve visited - in Paris or anywhere else.

To get there, I took the metro to St. Pauls. Walk out of the station and you face a large main road - cross the road and walk down - you’re walking into the Marais district. To me, it had a whole different feel to other parts of Paris… it might sound strange, but I felt a distinct San Francisco vibe about the place. This probably isn’t surprising, as I later learned that this is very much a gay district; it also has a large Jewish population. It feels more open and less stuffy than other places; tiny little streets house the most wonderful shops, cafes and galleries, all of them totally different and inviting. I didn’t feel out of place here. I don’t think anyone can feel out of place here. When I go again, I’ll find a hotel in this area, and I’d advise anyone else to do the same.

I had a guide book and a map but I didn’t need it; there are plenty of signposts to the Place de Voges and there’s no mistaking the breathtaking square when you find it. It was a weekday and so not that busy, a few tourists milling about but I almost had the park to myself. There are an abundance of benches and I just sat and drank it all in for half an hour or so. To be honest, I was a bit overwhelmed by it, partly because it looked so amazing, and partly because everything felt so calm and I realised how uptight I’ve been at home with work in recent months. I wish I could have caught hold of those moments and stuffed them into a box to bring out later.

I had my laptop but I didn’t write. I thought a lot, and then I explored the winding streets around the square. I walked past a large synagogue where a group of men were gathered, all dressed in black, two of them with huge, professional looking video cameras on their shoulders. Seconds later, the street filled with tooting horns and a wedding car approached, at which point, lots of other people emerged from the synagogue. All of the men wore black and so did a lot of the women, but a few wore a neapolitan mix of colours and shimmering taffeta. The car drew up and stopped and an old man climbed out, absolutely beaming with pride as he greeted the guests on the pavement who cheered like they were at a football game. There was something very natural and honest about the whole thing - in some ways, it reminded me of weddings that I’ve seen in Eastern Europe. Yes, everyone was wearing their best clothes, but it had none of the vanity that abounds at most modern weddings. The outfits looked a bit dated, but charming nevertheless, and yes, the bride did look a bit like a giant candy floss - but there was genuine delight and real feeling as she was greeted by her friends and disappeared inside. This picture doesn’t really do it justice, I snapped it on my ‘phone from across the street:

Give me a wedding like that any day.