The Most Beautiful Walk in the World: A Pedestrian in Paris

Is this a memoir, or a book about walking, or a book about Paris, or a book about writers between the wars? I’m not quite sure, but it was a fun book to read anyway, and it made me laugh aloud a few times. I like the laid-back approach to life espoused by the author (exemplified by the marvellous quote from William Faulkner on page 146) — the spirit of the flâneur. I also like the philosophy of travel that is exemplified here: don’t try to see All The Things: instead, soak up the atmosphere of the place that you find in backstreets and forgotten corners.

Better than I thought it was going to be; because I thought it was going to be, "OMG, Paris is so freaking beautiful, this is beautiful, that's beautiful, OMG Paris is so beautiful." Yawn! It wasn't that. It bounced around severely. It was kind of tied together by the author's recounting of how he stumbled into a job giving walking tours of Paris; and some of the fun things he includes on his tours. I liked that all the chapters were super-short. I liked the amount of himself he put into the book - enough so you aren't wondering who in the world is speaking to you; but not so much that it's a Me-Me-Me book, which is also boring. Altogether, you'd think that I'd love it. Ultimately, though I hate to sound like an ugly American or a jaded show more snob, I went to Paris once and I wasn't all that crazy about it. I prefer Italy. show less

You don’t have to be a fan of great literary authors or artists to enjoy this book. You can be a hopeless romantic, a fan of Paris or travel memoirs, or even an unsuspecting lover of reading to enjoy going on this adventure with Baxter. He has experienced life and travel in a unique way in a city many have written about, or experienced first hand for themselves. If you are like me, and enjoy reading about how other people have lived, then you are really going to love this book.

Baxter offers a lyrical, witty and elevated narrative that reveals how important it is to experience life off the beaten path while walking, especially when one is hoping to experience life as the Parisians do. The result is sweet–actually delicious, and show more beautifully aching. He writes, “But maybe my experience of a year of walking in Paris will suggest how and where you might start to find the succession of arrivals and departures that leaves one with memories that can never be erased, the moments one recounts all one’s life, prefaced by the words, “I remember … once … in Paris.” show less

Probably not a book I'd be drawn to unless I was planning to visit Paris in the near future. The author is an Australian ex-pat who married a French woman and now has the good fortune to live in the illustrious 6th arrondissement in a building previously inhabited by the fabled Sylvia Beach. His local neighbourbood was, as he takes pains to tell us frequently, frequented by
literary giants from days gone by. We should be so lucky. A little rambling in structure, the book is a series of anecdotes/memoirs loosely based around the author's part-time occupation of walking tour guide. There are some interesting snippets of history, local colour and the like, but the book's merit really lies in encouraging visitors to see Paris as a show more pedestrian. It is a city that really can't be appreciated any other way. show less

This the second of Baxter's books on Paris that I have read, and I enjoyed this one much more than the first. It's a breezy travelogue on Paris and its streets, about the very culture of walking neighborhood by neighborhood. Baxter has lived there for decades and brings a long-time resident's insights, while still adding contrasts from his experiences during his Australian childhood and other stops abroad. This book will particularly delight literature fans, as Baxter can't help but emphasize that aspect of the city--with a heavy dose of Hemingway. The appendix with travel tips would be helpful for anyone who plans to travel to Paris, too.

If you can get past the author's arrogance, you find that about half of the book isn't about Paris or people in Paris at all. The first bit was devoted to deriding those poor souls who, wearing their beige raincoat and comfortable shoes, consult a map during their walk in Paris. What the hell does Baxter want them to wear? A Chanel suit and four-inch spiked heels? And what better way to figure out which direction to walk in than to consult a map? He seems to simply look down his nose at anyone who doesn't know his way around the city. And he seems to think this is something unique to Paris, as if no one wears comfortable shoes or carries a map when they first visit New York, London, or Barcelona.

Before you read about Paris, you learn show more that Baxter lives in the building where some famous person (I forget who, Sylvia Beach, maybe?) lived. And so-and-so lived down the street, another lived across the road, etc. Baxter doesn't need a map because he lives in Paris. I wonder if he needed a map when he first arrived. Probably not. He is married to a French woman and his mother-in-law lives in a Chateau somewhere out of town. Is this giving you an interesting impression of Paris?

Baxter does finally get around to including the city and tells some stories and anecdotes of interest. I finished the book while in Avignon for a few days and left the book in my hotel room for someone else to slog through. Maybe that person will like the book better than I did. show less

I love John Baxter's style. I learned so much. I could almost see and smell the wonderful sights he described, even though it's been decades since I was in Paris.