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Get the 5.01pm Eurostar from Lon­don and roll into cen­tral Paris at 8.30pm, just in time for a Fri­day night slap-up. The best place to do that: Parisian in­sti­tu­tion Brasserie Lipp, where the peo­ple-watch­ing is as won­der­ful as the ser­vice is rude (dis­claimer: that’s kind of its charm).


Give your­self a lie-in – break­fast at Plaza Athénée is go­ing to re­quire some en­ergy. Start gen­tly with a bas­ket of their award-win­ning pas­tries and muffins, then get se­ri­ous. Once done, head out – you’re on Av­enue Mon­taigne, af­ter all, the most fash­ion­able street in Paris. Yves Saint Lau­rent, Cé­line, Louis Vuit­ton: it’s all here. And if your bud­get doesn’t stretch that far, hop in a cab to Le Marais. There’s an Azze­dine Alaïa se­cret out­let (18 rue de la Ver­rerie, 75004) behind a huge wooden door. Ring the bell – don’t be scared, they’re very nice in­side. Then walk to Rue des Rosiers for take-out falafel and have a pew in the hid­den Jardin Des Rosiers. Take nap­kins – lots of them. Things can get messy.


There’s a rea­son Sex

And The City filmed its last episode here – it’s like step­ping onto a film set. Ev­ery­one is either a) beau­ti­ful, or b) faaab­u­lous. Un­sure which you are (clearly both)? Fake it by sit­ting in The Plaza’s bar, sip­ping a Ne­groni while Paris twin­kles out­side. It’s not cheap, but it’s a once-in-al­ife­time ho­tel. You’ll get your money’s worth from the num­ber of In­sta­gram posts it will in­spire. A warning: we didn’t try the Dior spa, but re­gret­ted it af­ter hear­ing one grande dame say her mas­sage was bet­ter than sex.

Drink cham­pagne; find ‘get an Eif­fel’ gags hi­lar­i­ous


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