One of the lesser known delights of Paris is the Canal Saint Martin which, just upstream from the Ile Saint Louis, turns north from the Seine then disappears under the Place de la Bastille, running under the Boulevard Richard Lenoir (where Maigret and his wife used to live) till it comes into the light a few minutes walk from the Place de la Republique.

The best introduction to the canal is to take a boat trip. These start from the Quai d’Orsay, right by the museum, and go all the way to La Villette, once renowned for its slaughter-houses but now housing a collection of museums including the Cité des Sciences et de l'Industrie and the Cité de la Musique.

Any commentary provided on tourist boats in London is pretty rough and ready (“I’m not a professional guide, I’m just gonna tell you a few things you can see on the trip, and if you’re ‘appy there’s a tip bucket right by the exit”). In Paris, by contrast, the commentary is erudite, and decidedly literary. As we turned off the Seine, on our first trip, the young guide informed us that the basin separating the river from the canal (the Bassin de l’Arsenal) was “the setting for the opening of Gustave Flaubert’s last, and incomplete, novel Bouvard et Pecuchet in which the eponymous protagonists have their initial encounter”.

This gave me an idea and, as we emerged from the tunnel at the start of the Quai de Jemmapes, I had a word with the guide who, a minute or so later, gravely intoned “Ladies and gentlemen, if you look to your right you will see, on the second floor, a very special apartment. For that is where Marie-Anne lives who is on board at this very moment, wearing a yellow top and a kilt!”.  And our friends’ little girl, maybe six at the time, dashed around the boat telling everyone it was her that the man was talking about.

Marie-Anne, having finished at the Ecole Normale, is now working; so our boat trip must have taken place a good 20 years ago, shortly after we got to know her parents.

This happened when the language-teaching organisation for which I was working celebrated the opening of our new school in Cambridge by inviting a group of French journalists specialising in educational matters.

Jane found herself, at dinner, seated next to a charming French woman who introduced herself, adding that she was the wife of Philippe B., the education correspondent of Le Monde.  Later in the evening, after a couple of glasses of wine, Jane asked Marie-Luce what, apart from being  a journalist’s wife, she did. ‘I’m a judge’, she replied.

It turned out that Marie-Luce’s parents were looking after Marie-Anne, so they were able to take a couple of extra days off and asked us if we could recommend a reasonably priced hotel in London. When we said that we would be delighted to put them up at our house in Waterloo they agreed on one condition: that we come and stay with them in Paris; which we did a few weeks later. And our visits to each other’s homes have continued ever since.

The canal has been part of the scenery of eastern Paris since the 1820s, first used to bring water into the centre of the city then, increasingly, to transport goods, especially the meat from La Villette.

From early on it attracted painters, the best known of which was the impressionist Alfred Sisley (1839-1899), who painted the three views below in - I assume - the 1860s or 70s.

And here are some more recent paintings, the first of which shows one of the footbridges which were added later.

Alfred Courmes

(1898-1993)

Musee Carnavalet,

Paris

        (For more paintings of the canal, use this link)

http://paris.bypainters.com/10eme/canal%20St%20martin.htm

In view of the generally acknowledged crassness and ignorance of most town planners, it will come as no surprise to learn that, come the 1970s, plans were made for a four-lane highway to replace the canal, now rarely used to transport goods.   Fortunately an outburst of public outrage led to the project being swiftly shelved.

And it was the public of Paris - that great city of cinephiles - who, in the following decade, rose up to save the Hôtel du Nord, the most famous building on the Canal Saint Martin, from destruction. (It is now a monument historique, with a popular - if pricey - restaurant on the ground floor).

This 1938 film, directed by the superb Marcel Carné, is mainly set in the eponymous hotel. The plot , such as it is, concerns a young couple, Renée (Annabella) and Pierre (Jean-Pierre Aumont) who take a room in the hotel for one night, determined to commit suicide together.

But the most memorable characters are a prostitute, Raymonde, and her pimp, Monsieur Edmond, (played by Arletty and Louis Jouvet).

And it is Arletty who has a line which is as well-known to French film fans as, say, ‘Round up the usual suspects’ or ‘Nobody’s perfect’ is to British or American movie-goers.

They are standing on a footbridge over the canal when Monsieur Edmond says that he needs to move away somewhere. (Click below to see the clip in question).

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6DKI0EP-RMA

Raymonde suggests they go to the seaside, or maybe abroad, to the colonies. But her pimp makes it clear that what he wants to leave behind is her, his words being,

 J'ai besoin de changer d'atmosphère.  Et moi l’atmosphère c’est toi!

(Literally, ‘I need a change of atmosphere, and the atmosphere is you!’)

She replies:

C’est la premiere fois qu’on me traite d’atmosphère.

(‘That’s the first time I’ve been called “atmosphere”’)

And heads off, shouting, in her amazing 30s Parisian accent,

Atmosphère ! Atmosphère ! Est-ce que j'ai une gueule d'atmosphère ? 

(‘Have I got an atmosphere face!’)

Okay, okay, it doesn’t translate very well;  but the quotation is well-enough known to have been used as the name of a cafe on the opposite side of the canal, as you can see.

We stayed with our friends for a couple of nights the other week, on our way to Baden Baden by train (leaving from the Gare de l’Est, which is just a couple of minutes walk from the canal).

In the 20 or so years since we first came here, the area has been increasingly invaded by what the French call ‘bobos’ (bourgeois bohemiens):  well-heeled people looking for somewhere with a bit of an edge to it.

So, as in Soho, clothes shops are moving in, ousting little artisans who can no longer manage the rents, as well as the carpet importers who used to line the street that runs from Chez Prune (our favourite cafe, the one in the photo above) towards the Place de la Republique.

But it’s still a pleasure to be there: to look out over the canal in the morning to Chez Prune; to pop out to our favourite boulangerie on a Saturday or Sunday morning, staggering back with pains au chocolat and croissants; to be taken to a park or museum we hadn’t known of before.

And there have been some great celebrations with Philippe and Marie-Luce (though we’re still sad to have missed the ceremony at which ‘Madame le Juge’ was awarded the Légion d'honneur with the rank of Chevalier last December).

There was the surprise celebration of their 20th wedding anniversary (organised by the children).  And the amazing party on 18 March 2001, when Bertrand Delanoë was elected not only the first socialist mayor of Paris, but the first gay mayor too, and we spent much of the evening ferrying oysters across from Chez Prune, to wash them down with champagne.

But we don’t need special occasions to enjoy staying on the Canal Saint Martin. Just chatting over a glass of wine with our friends is enough.  It must be the atmosphere.