Cole Porter loved Paris in the fall (true, he loved it in the winter, spring, and summer too); I always think of Hemingway's A Moveable Feast when the weather turns autumnal: "the cold wind would strip the leaves from the trees in the Place Contrescarpe. The leaves lay sodden in the rain and the wind drove the rain against the big green autobus at the terminal and the Café des Amateurs was crowded and the windows misted over from the heat and the smoke inside..." What is it about Paris and the fall that seem so perfect together?
I'd like to be holed up in a café (not that one, which was "sad and evilly run," but the "good café" that Hemingway knew "on the Place St.-Michel"), with a glass of white wine and a copy of John Baldwin's Paris 1200, an exquisite guide to the Paris of eight centuries ago. Using only contemporary sources, the voices of the city come alive to tell the story of what everyday life was like for the students, scholars, clerics, merchants, rulers and common people of 13th-Century Paris.
Click here to read more about Paris 1200.