Parisians are often unself-conscious and I sometimes wonder if they get a thrill by not drawing the curtains. And a chance to indulge your innocent curiosity. There are bull's-eye windows in the slanting slate roofs, arcades and painted timber ceilings. At times, the magic-lantern effect reveals the fabulous art collections of a former French minister, famous auctioneers and the old rich families who have lived here for decades or centuries. When the window-shopping culture vultures who cruise the Marais by day bed down for the night, the area's narrow streets and townhouses provide endless permutations for the intrepid noctambule.
Mystery awaits around every turn in the road.
Over the centuries countless French and many foreign writers have contributed to the literature of noctambulism. It seems that if the perpetually thirsty and penniless genius couldn't be found at work in one of the hovels he occupied in the neighborhood, he was usually leaping from bed to bed, or mooching a drink in the Place du Tertre. This square and the streets fronting nearby Sacr Coeur are a zoo from dawn to about 2 a.m., daily, and if you're into high kitsch then be my guest. Roads like the Rue des Saules and Rue St-Vincent, instead, wrap around the backside of the hill to a small vineyard whose vines are imprisoned behind high walls and fences. Or wander around Belleville, an unsung neighborhood in the 19th and 20th arrondissements, with surprising views from the Parc de Belleville, and enough ungentrified urban edge to keep your heart pumping.