21st Century Professional Flâneur

The first time we met, I thought Okan was a compatriot from Spain who had just moved to Paris... I was really wrong, we were actually born thousands of kilometers apart, and on getting to know each other, we could also confirm that we had really different backgrounds, past experiences, tastes and careers. But curiously life had brought us to the same place with very similar personal circumstances and we came to coincide on each other in a period of our lives in which we both spent our time as modern flâneurs.

And it was so because the city was calling us to roam it streets without haste, to drift around solitarily, following our instincts, without any final aim but to enjoy the infinite hues and details it was laying out for us. Without being aware of it, we fulfilled all the necessary requisites of such an occupation: ‘To leave without being forced in any way, and to follow your inspiration as if the mere fact of turning right or turning left already constituted an essentially poetic act.’ (Edmond Jaloux, ‘Le Dernier Flâneur’, Le Temps, May 22, 1936.)

Paris and its streets became our home away from home. Without a routine and hours to live by, it gave us the necessary calm to appreciate it, discovering its details lost at first sight, a spectacle only for those eyes gifted with the sensitivity it required. Well, although, like I said before, the differences between us are many, (fortunately for Okan!) it’s still true that we share that sensitivity that made it easier for us to enjoy the city and its sights, also architecture, music, beauty and art in general in their different manifestations. And we also share an enormous curiosity that pushes us to entertain the most diverse likes and interests. And I understand that these factors made us connect and start our friendship. 

But I stayed at the edges of flâneurism, that of Poe and his "Man of the crowd", that of Baudelaire, that of Walter Benjamin's passages, whereas he went further, Okan took flâneurism to our contemporary times, which already in the century XX had changed to photography as a form of essays of impressions, he moved onto social networks of the XXI century, and started his great work of Parisbywalking on Instagram.

The above-mentioned Walter Benjamin, tells us in his book “The arcades project” “Couldn’t an exciting film be made from the map of Paris? From the unfolding of its various aspects in temporal succession? From the compression of a century’s long movement of streets, boulevards, arcades, and squares into the space of half an hour? And does the flâneur do anything different?” And this is exactly what Okan have set out to do with his systematical walks through the map of the city.

It may seem like an anachronistic figure in our society of hurries and tight schedules, daily routines that alienate us, cities whose agitation is hostile to passersby, citizens who do not take their eyes off their screens and walk oblivious to their surroundings, absorbed and isolated from it by their headphones. We do not walk: we move from point a to point b, and the path is just an annoying necessity between two activities, which we try by all means to make as short as possible or we practice sports absorbed in our thoughts and concerns, lost in the music we listen to.

But our age has endowed the flânuer with a specialized weapon that Okan has very cleverly donned: smartphones and instant connection, the internet. As we have already said, in the 20th century, with the development of compact cameras, the flâneur moves onto a new dimension: “ The photographer is an armed version of the solitary walker reconnoitering, stalking, cruising the urban inferno, the voyeuristic stroller who discovers the city as a landscape of voluptuous extremes” Susan Sontag, from On Photography. Today technology makes it easier for us to act like entomologists in search of rare and beautiful specimens; collect, treasure and classify images, urban prints, visions of the buildings that cross our paths every day, whose free for-all beauty we’re actually disregard, their exciting stories left unknown to us, only so that once captured, we can then expose them and share them on digital platforms and social networks.

And this is what Okan has been known to do with mastery and great generosity, allowing other modern digital walkers to be participants in the beauty captured, cataloged and shared by clicking or sliding their fingers on touch screens. In this way they can also feed their curiosity and satisfy their craving for knowledge, be it aesthetic, architectural, historical or gastronomic, the last of which our bon vivant guide and guru is so passionate about.

And for those of you who haven’t been lucky enough to meet and enjoy this fun, humane, generous, intelligent and passionate person in real life, you can now thankfully access at least a little bit of him on Instagram and now on PARISbyWALKING.com.

The City that fulfills the thirst for new experiences

I first came to Paris when I was 8, it was my first trip outside of war stricken Iran where I had grown up, and soon after we moved here for good. The contrast was stark.

During the first year my mother took us to visit every monument and museum. My most striking encounter back then was the Musée d’Orsay and it’s impressionists’ collection. I also remember vividly the Centre George Pompidou and the adjacent fountain with the Nicky de Saint Phalle statues and the general atmosphere there. And of course seeing Paris from the top of the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triumph and the whole experience of getting up there. I enjoyed the street performances, the old green swings, the merry-go-rounds, the Jardin d’Acclimatation... I also remember hating the smelly cheese at the school’s cantine, the unfounded rudeness of some Parisians and missing the unflinching Tehran sun.

photo by Maryam M.

photo by Maryam M.

photo by Maryam M.

photo by Maryam M.

photo by: Maryam M.

photo by: Maryam M.


I remember understanding my father’s philosophy of life regarding happiness and grasping and enjoying the present, walking in the Jardin de Luxembourg and the parks at the bottom of the Champs Elysées during my student years. I also remember countless hours in cafes drinking expressos and smoking cigarettes discussing small and grand matters with my friends. I always enjoyed discovering Paris through the eyes of others. I remember afternoons where I picked up random metro stations and trajectories to discover what I didn’t know yet.

Then I went to London for new adventures, to get lost again and make new discoveries. I loved London, but I was always excited to travel back to Paris. Then I had my son, and after some time I realized that I wanted to share Paris and the French culture with him, and so we came back when he was 3, and by chance moved to the same street where I had first shortly lived in Paris. I was worried about Paris being too static, to get bored. Every corner has a memory for me, but we are making new ones. I realized that the city changes under its timeless appearance, and so does our experience of it at different times of our lives and with changing mindsets.

Despite having lived in Paris for over 17 years in total, the city continues to fulfill my thirst for new experiences, and I never get used to how beautiful it is. I believe it is a true privilege to live here; it’s not easy to get the permit to stay, the language and culture are not obvious at first, nor is the job market for newcomers; it also comes with high taxes and prices, but for me it’s worth the effort and sacrifices.

Maryam M.

Paris is Paris

Without doubt apart from those who have lost loved ones, the global pandemic has probably hit those of us hardest, those of us who miss sharing a laugh and a toast with loved ones on a seaside bar, always be the last one to leave the table at the tavern, coming back home carrying our shoes, our feet covered in sand, constantly hugging and kissing each other, in other words those of us who really DO love to live.

And it hit us right when we had just moved to Paris, the capital city of the cafés where the culture of socialization has reached a subtle perfection.

Although once we were the last ones to leave a club in Istanbul, recently feeling a little resentful of everything, we had already retreated our tables and long drinks with friends back within the walls of our homes. But, remembering a Turkish saying about how our minds feed from each other, now we find ourselves looking for alternatives to keep ourselves from collecting dust at home, left on our own.

Actually, against all odds, life in Paris is still really not that bad: I’m watching the constructors from the building across the street enjoying a cold beer at lunch on the corner café, still in their overalls. The elderly gentleman of the neighborhood, a coffee in his hand, in his fedora hat and cashmere coat, ordering whiskey or rum shot makes me happy in the morning. It is possible and amazing to watch the sun set and the moon rise at the same time from the top of Montmartre.

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The city culture, which has unfortunately migrated away from my country along with the minorities, makes me feel better every day here, in Paris.

Sometimes I miss the tourist groups hanging around the corner that I used to complain about before.

And of course sometimes, inexplicably on a Sunday afternoon usually, when I feel lonely, disappointed, angry, fearful and sad, I pour myself a double rum or calvados. I look at all my feelings through 40% proof alcohol. I try to keep myself still as a rock, grounded against the current of a river and I start to feel cleansed. Strong, healing, exciting feelings show themselves and flow through me. I feel that the stronger and more traditional drinks flow better into the spirit of these times.

And at the end of the day, just as Vincent Van Gogh told his brother Theo;

“And mind my dear fellow, Paris is Paris. There is but one Paris and however hard living may be here, and if it became worse and even harder - the french air clears up the brain and does good - a world of good.”

I hope that the days when we will spread out to crowded tables on a sidewalk café and raise our glass to good times are not that far away.

Gülçin Sargın Beşer

More Than Just a City

Paris is probably a way of life. European metropolis, cosmopolitan city, tourist magnet - yes, all that is true, but it does not reflect what is special. What is it that makes this unique?

photo by Volker Kraayvanger

photo by Volker Kraayvanger

If you live here, you feel like you're part of a story - a never-ending story, Paris is never-ending. You can choose who you want to meet - the Sun King, Saint-Saëns or Sartre, each era resonates incessantly in this city, literally sweeping those who engage with it. Yes, the charm of some places and spaces is disenchanted by the countless tourists, but even in everyday life, in some places you are fascinated every time to be part of this city. Maybe not exactly on the days when I stand in the crowded metro. But when I'm in a great restaurant, concert hall or park, definitely. 

 The feeling of strolling through alleys, spontaneously sitting down at a small table on the sidewalk, ordering something, only to think that it had to come just like this. Standing on historical monuments, looking at the sand-colored buildings and imagining how everything looks with horse-drawn carriages, ladies with parasols and gentlemen with top hats. Driving fearlessly into the traffic circle of the Place de l'Etoile, honking the horn and experiencing a spontaneous amnesia of all the traffic rules. Amazing. Finally arrived. 

I hope this feeling of having arrived will return on subsequent visits to Paris. A few weeks after I have already "left" Paris, I return for the first time. By car, alone - for a business trip. In the evening, the rush hour traffic has already died down, I have a hotel near the Église Saint Eustache. Much is familiar, the prominent monuments facilitate orientation, the evening sound of wailing sirens and accelerating scooters penetrates through the half-open window into my car. Everything as always. Exactly as it should be. And I am part of it.

Volker Kraayvanger

There’s a Paris for Everyone

There’s a Paris for everyone. And if you’re lucky, you get to have more than one version.

My first time was like for most people, as a tourist. If you don’t fall in love head first with the city there’s only one explanation: you lack a heart. Paris takes control over you, it overwhelms you with its beauty and magnificence. You walk down the street and you are suddenly taken by breathtaking buildings, one of its monuments or simply a little lane that pulls you in, inviting you to find out its every little corner. In Paris, even the beaten path is amazing: The Champs-Élysées, the Arc de Triomphe, the Notredame. Of course, you’ll never forget the first time you lay eyes on Mme Eiffel. Paris invades you.

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A few days in Paris, and mind you it was winter, I knew I had to come back.

And so I did. Many years later, I was an exchange student in HEC, one of the business schools outside Paris. My suitcase and I moved into a sub-let studio on the 15ème arrondissement, at Place du Commerce. And for the first time, I lived Paris. I explored every corner of the Jardins de Luxembourg, I walked both margins of the Seine up and down. I found out the best financiers of the whole city were steps away from my apartment, a luxury my tiny budget could afford. I met people. Parisians and not, I mingled. I went to Queen on a Monday night and lost track of time and space. I ate crêpe at four in the morning at a corner of the Quartier Latin after a big Salsa night, before crossing town on my way home. There wasn’t a cafe on the 15ème I didn’t know. I walked around the Invalides and I met Rodin inside his museum and from a completely different perspective, I lost myself again in time and space. Paris does that you, stops time and takes you to a parallel universe. If you want to lose yourself to find yourself, walk at night on the streets of the Ile de La Cité, talk to the artists and buy posters in Montmartre. Stroll around St. Germain and le Marais. Spend a day (no, not hours), a day inside the Musée d’Orsay. Find yourself a tandem partner to learn French (and I wish I could say we became more than that but we only really exchanged words back and forth, in French and Spanish. C’est la vie).

Eleven years later, I’m on a plane from Melbourne, Australia, destination Charles de Gaule. I had a little more than a suitcase this time. More specifically, seven pieces of luggage, 200kg of airfreight and a 20ft container that would arrive 3 months later. A husband and 2 children. Life had changed, I wasn’t on a tight budget anymore. My comfortable apartment was situated on the Avenue de Victor Hugo. And again Paris takes you over either you want it or not. At the Jardins de Luxembourg, we spent most of the time in the amazing playground they have (once in company of no less than Marion Cotillard), we also discovered les Jardins d’Acclimatation, the carrousel at the end of Trocadéro, the Ateliers Créatifs at George Pompidou, the playground at Place des États Units and every corner of Parc Monceau (aka Parc Monsieur, according to my son). I collected unforgettable moments like going to the tip of the merry-go-round at Place de la Concorde, only to realize my kids were fine but was terrified by the height. Running like crazy after them flying on their trottinettes under the arcs of Place de Voges. The picnics at the margins of the Canal St Martin. An unbelievable afternoon when exceptionally they opened the nave of the Grand Palais and my kids just ran like little rockets from side to side. And of course when I took them to meet Rodin.

photo by Taciana Fonseca

photo by Taciana Fonseca

photo by Taciana Fonseca

photo by Taciana Fonseca

photo by Taciana Fonseca

photo by Taciana Fonseca

It was a different Paris, busier, more stressful, and rare were the moments to lose and find myself. Burocracy, endless administrative processes, back and forth with several institutions to get things done (from the government to your internet provider) – Paris lacks efficiency, it can waste lots of your precious time. Some people are respectful, many are very rude. The fast pace of the city runs you over like someone who shoves you inside the metro and almost make you trip over your own feet.

There’s a Paris to everyone. And if I can give you one single advice: keep your tourist eyes always on. Don’t let the frenzy, the rudeness of people, the traffic, the fear gets into you. Go to the parks, enjoy the Seine, find by mistake that amazing bookshop at Rive Gauche, and carve time just for you and Paris alone. Even if you have a residency card, be a tourist. Forever. And on a daily basis, let Paris invade you.

Taciana Fonseca