SANDRINE: After centuries of upheaval and evolution,
France's capital was at last secure in its reputation
as the most magnificent city in the world.
In the 1890s, you could think that Paris was just perfect as it was,
complete with nice boulevards, beautiful monuments.
So the challenge for the next generation was what to do next.
Parisians went underground.
They turned the City of Light into a city of the night.
(YELLING IN FRENCH)
Full of exotic tastes, hidden worlds and forbidden pleasures.
I love fake eyelashes.
Home to the bohemian, the avant-garde,
the refugee and the resistance fighter.
-If Paris was old... -Scoop it in.
...these people fought to keep it young at heart.
This is the story of that struggle.
Welcome to my city.
The dawn of the 20th century was fast approaching
and Paris still didn't have a metro system.
London and New York had had theirs for decades.
The problem was Parisians couldn't decide
what form the metro should take, overland or underground.
The overground camp
believed the underground system was fine for London
but Parisians being Parisians, in love with light and beauty,
would refuse to go underground.
In places, you can get an idea of what Paris might have become.
It's not hard to see what the concerns were.
The overland system would ruin the look of Paris
and cover its streets in darkness.
Eventually the undergrounders won.
They rushed to complete the first line
just in time to welcome in the new century.
It's true, the London Underground was up and running
a long time before the Paris Metro,
but we like to think it was worth the wait.
The Paris Metro is cheaper, more efficient,
and the trains have rubber wheels,
so you're not deafened by screeching metal
each time a train arrives.
In the end, Parisians took to the underground pretty well.
Now, I was told also that I shouldn't press on this big red button,
-'cause otherwise we stop. -Right.
Oh, my God!
(HORN BLOWING)
(EXCLAIMING)
Paris was proud of its metro,
and to show the world how modern it was,
they had the entrances designed in the latest style.
This was the new look of the city, in demand by all who could afford it.
They call this movement Art Nouveau, simply New Art,
and it's defined by these organic, flowing shapes.
Among the shapely curves appear female figures,
assumably Paris herself,
showing her face and sometimes a little more.
Art Nouveau is not about big statements like the Eiffel Tower, but decoration.
Everything is in the detail.
Even this gouttiere service pipe,
sending the soiled water down to the sewers, is beautiful.
Art Nouveau became all the rage, affecting every aspect of daily life.
So you could shop Art Nouveau.
Eat Art Nouveau.
But my favourite example of Art Nouveau lies under the ground.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(TOILET FLUSHING)
These public lavatories were built over 100 years ago,
back in an age when nothing was allowed to be purely functional.
You have to come. They're the cleanest
and the most beautiful toilets in Paris, and in the world.
And in the world.
Paris was in the grip of a new fad.
Turning their backs on the light and colour of the city streets,
Parisians filed into darkened rooms to see those same streets
in flickery black-and-white.
This was courtesy of the Lumiere brothers,
who debuted their cinematograph in 1 895.
The invention of cinema was to change the world.
Apart from the films themselves,
there's nothing left in Paris to witness this great adventure,
except, curiously, this church.
Notre Dame de Consolation is no ordinary church.
It is a temple of grief.
Till the turn of the century,
this was the site of a charity bazaar for destitute women.
In 1 89 7, they held a fundraiser
with the Lumieres' new invention as the main attraction.
But a fire broke out around the projector
and the wooden hall went up in flames.
In the wreckage, the bodies of 1 40 people,
mostly women and children, were found.
This church was built to commemorate the lives of those who died in the fire.
It's a rather moving space here.
The church is filled with statues of grieving women.
Lounging over them, the sated young Prince of Death.
Inventiveness was key to the age.
A bold act of bravado up in Montmartre
would soon transform the streets of Paris
without a single stone being turned.
In 1 898, a young man bet his friends he could make a motorcar
that would drive up the steep butte of Montmartre.
It was quite an achievement in those days.
The name of the young man was Louis Renault,
and on Christmas Eve,
his friends watched as he and his voiturette,
the little car, began creaking up the steep slope.
It would be faster on foot, but the bet was not about the speed.
The voiturette survived the trip and pulled in, as Renault had promised,
at the summit of Montmartre.
Thank you very much.
(CROWD CHEERING)
Renault's adventure began one of France's largest industries.
Today, Paris is clogged up with cars, and more than a fair share are Renault.
Even the police drive them.
Paris' love for underground worlds and innovation
was about to take a new direction.
At the heart of Montmartre, a subculture was bursting into life,
Bohemianism.
A way of life for the new generation of artists and libertines
in search of cheap rent, inspiration and sexual adventure.
Pretty soon the world recognised the Moulin Rouge
as the centrepiece of the exotic kingdom of bohemia.
The Red Windmill is the most famous nightclub in the world,
but no self-respecting Parisian would be seen dead inside
because it has become a fake, a tourist trap.
Once described as ''the tavern of hell':
this vast pleasure dome was the very symbol of bohemia,
sexy, seductive and brash.
It even had its own resident bohemian artist, Toulouse-Lautrec,
whose posters and paintings
helped immortalise the Moulin Rouge in popular culture.
Today I can't see much evidence of the place that inspired him.
Nobody seems to even be from Paris, including the dancers.
DANCER: All of us auditioned in London...
-Okay. -...and then, obviously, got the job
and came to Paris straightaway to work.
But why did you choose Moulin Rouge
than maybe, I don't know, another type of band or...
Because Moulin Rouge has so much history,
and also you can be involved in the French cancan,
which is an amazing thing to be involved in.
I love fake eyelashes.
I wanted to know, do you put them one by one or...
No, they're a group.
That's something else you can always practise.
-Well, I'll come back for tips, then. -Oh, cool.
To get a feel of the authentic bohemia,
you have to head up Montmartre Hill to Au Lapin Agile.
(ALL SINGING IN FRENCH)
The haunt of pimps, anarchists and the avant-garde,
this was where the real bohemians hung out,
including a young painter called Pablo Picasso.
He once painted himself drinking at the bar.
Now worth millions,
back then, the original paid for a few stiff drinks.
While we're here, I may as well introduce you
to the bohemian drink par excellence, l'absinthe, or the green fairy.
To some people, it was just like the crack cocaine of the 1 9th century.
I can show you a little demonstration.
I take a sugar, you pour a bit of absinthe.
What made absinthe notorious was what the bohemians put in it, opium.
I prefer mine without.
It's very nice.
(PLAYING GYMNOPEDIE I)
Another regular at Au Lapin Agile was the composer Erik Satie,
who made a living tinkling the ivories of Montmartre's cabarets.
His brain stirred with simple, haunting melodies
that captured the other side of bohemia,
the melancholy that comes once the crowds have gone
and each must face his own thoughts and fears.
(CHURCH BELLS CHIMING)
Bohemianism was not just about having a good time.
Behind it was a real passion for art, new art,
ripping up the old and starting over.
And the greatest iconoclast of them all
was the young Spaniard from Au Lapin Agile,
Pablo Picasso.
I'm meeting his grandson Olivier.
Hi, how are you?
-Hello. -You okay?
-I'm fine, and you? -Yeah.
So tell me, how did your grandfather come to Paris to become an artist?
All the Spanish young artists
were thinking that everything was happening in Paris,
so everyone was dreaming about coming to Paris,
which was a long way.
It took him about two days, a two days' journey to come to Paris.
And his first visit was in 1 900.
I mean, the real beginning
-of the past century. -The turn of the century.
Stone-broke and starving,
Picasso could never have dreamt that one of the city's grandest buildings
would one day become a museum devoted to his work.
This is my grandmother, Marie-Therese. You can say hello...
-Hello. -...before we go into the museum.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
This is the very beginning, then, the blue and pink period.
Picasso found his inspiration in the hidden underbelly of Paris.
He was the ultimate underground painter.
OLIVIER: This painting is typically the vision of Pablo Picasso of his time.
Poor people living in a big city.
She's very slim.
-Not because she was on a diet. -No, of course.
It's only because she had nothing to eat.
And her gaze looks rather empty.
Picasso soon evolved his own revolutionary style,
but it wasn't always flattering for his sitters.
So how did his wives feel about the way he was portraying them?
I think they had to trust him.
If they wanted to insist about being represented
the way they wanted, they were not Picasso on the canvas.
But the ones who trusted him,
like Fernande Olivier or my grandmother, Marie-Therese,
today you see their portraits in every museum in the world.
So, in fact, they are immortal.
Everything in Picasso is sincere, including the love for the woman.
-Exactly. -Yeah.
That's what I like about it, actually. Definitely.
By the beginning of the 1 920s, the mood in Paris had changed.
In the wake of the First World War, there was little to celebrate.
Even the city itself was looking a bit downbeat.
You know, the problem in Paris just after the First World War
is that many buildings were just walls and not really equipped for modern life.
And there were more and more people coming to Paris,
coming from abroad and from the province,
so space was really an issue
and some places in Paris were just turning into slums.
The English writer George Orwell,
in his book Down and Out in Paris and London,
describes streets like ''ravines of tall, leprous houses
''lurching towards one another, frozen in the act of collapse.
''Everywhere a sour reek,
''buildings bug-ridden, tuberculosis rife. ''
In the window of this pest control shop, you can see these rats.
They're quite huge. They were caught in the 1 920s.
And in 1 921 there was a brief outbreak of the bubonic plague in Paris.
It's a real throwback to the Middle Ages.
But as old Paris crumbled, a new city began to emerge.
During the 1 920s alone,
the number of foreigners in the city doubled,
people from all corners of the earth.
During the 20th century, Paris became increasingly an international city,
and I think that made it a magnet for influences and new ideas.
The presence of immigrants in Paris
was to challenge the traditional look of the city.
This is the Grand Mosque of Paris.
I wanted to show you this place because I just love it.
You don't feel in Paris here.
You think you could be in the Alhambra gardens in Spain.
And I like it so much because it's peaceful here.
I love the architecture. It's very elegant and stylish.
But this peaceful place right in the heart of the Left Bank
tells a sad story.
The Grand Mosque was built in 1 926
to honour the tens of thousands of French Muslims
who died fighting in the First World War.
It wasn't just Paris' architecture that took a new direction.
People think of Paris as the home of French cuisine,
but today it serves up the food of many other countries, too.
Moussa l'Africain is a restaurant
run by award-winning chef Alexandre Bella Olla
from the Cameroons.
Mmm!
It wasn't just the promise of work that drew people to Paris,
but its reputation as a place of tolerance and freedom.
From Britain and America came struggling writers and artists.
/ames Joyce, Ernest Hemingway and Henry Miller
were able to write and publish seamy, shocking books
that would raise eyebrows or even face censorship back home.
My favourite expat artist was not a writer.
She was a dancer and singer.
(PLAYING JAZZ)
/osephine Baker was an American, but the colour of her skin
meant she could never be a leading lady back home.
When she came to Paris in 1 925,
her wild dancing entranced her newly adopted city.
She became the belle of Paris.
Her death 50 years later brought the city to a standstill.
Today there is even a public square named after her.
(SINGING IN FRENCH)
She can still draw a crowd
through American impersonator Nicole Rochelle.
-Hi, Nicole. -Hello!
-You're just great like that. -Hi, thank you.
-A real Josephine Baker. -Thank you.
So why do you think Josephine Baker came to Paris?
Well, I think it was definitely a necessity
because black people couldn't even, you know, sit with white people
and drink at the bar after they did their show in the jazz,
whereas here, Josephine came and she was free.
She had her top off and nobody was saying,
''Oh, my God, she's got breasts!'' you know.
But in the United States, sometimes it's like this.
So I felt always free with my body and comfortable being naked.
And in dance, she's also such a genius, naturally, in dance.
-Would you like to show us? -I might.
-Thank you very much. -I might like to.
For me, I know she always goes, like, really high
and she whips her leg in there,
-and so whip the leg in. -Yes.
-Come. -Yeah?
-Yes, try this. -Do you think I can?
You just go high and then put up and lift.
Yes. Scoop it in.
-Attends, let me see. -Scoop it that way.
Yeah. You can go out, too. And then you gotta go really quickly.
-You're much more stylish than me. -Cut it to the side.
-And maybe twist a little. -A bit like twisting, like that?
Yeah! She's all about twisting, twisting, Josephine.
Just twist and to the side and twist and twist back, twist back.
So I'm always like twist, twist, twist.
So is it more shimmy or Charleston, you think?
Shimmy? It's like both, all together.
-Shimmy, Charleston, twist, you know? -And that was her whole creation.
So if you try them all together, that's kind of like Josephine.
Almost everything she did is everything all together.
Clown, sexy, high, low, shimmy, Charleston.
It's... I love her.
The Parisian people were in love with her, definitely.
-Yeah. -And still are.
Paris'golden age as the cultural melting pot of the world
was brought to an abrupt end.
In June 1 940, shortly after the outbreak of the Second World War,
Nazi troops marched into Paris.
The shock of invasion was profound,
not only to Parisians and French people, but also to the whole world.
Paris was the city of light, civilisation and freedom.
Suddenly it was an occupied city.
After a few weeks, Hitler himself visited
and was photographed like a tourist in front of the Eiffel Tower.
He casually remarked that he had thought about destroying the city
but couldn't be bothered.
Instead, after 20 years of Paris being a refuge to the people of the world,
Hitler brought xenophobia and hatred back to the city.
Here we're in the Marais. It's quite famous nowadays
for all the nice boutiques and all the posh restaurants,
but back then it was a Jewish working-class area
also called the Pletzel.
So here it's Rue des Rosiers. You can see all the falafel shops.
And it's still, nowadays, the very heart of the Jewish community.
/ewish people had been living in Paris for over 1,500 years.
On the 1 4th of May, 1 94 1, on the orders from the Nazis,
the city's police began to round them up.
Rachel Jedinak was eight at the time.
Along with thousands of others,
Rachel's mother was taken to a housing estate in the suburb of Drancy
which was used as a holding camp before deportation.
While the city authorities collaborated, others resisted.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
The Paris catacombs had often provided a home to underground movements,
and during the war they did so once more.
This was the command centre of the Paris resistance.
Over 1 5,000 Parisian men and women risked their lives
to overthrow the Nazis,
from distributing propaganda and helping Jews to escape
to assassinating Nazi officers and fighting in the streets.
It's a real labyrinth here.
It's just long corridors, small rooms.
But it's rather suffocating because there is very little air,
so they must have been living in very poor conditions, actually,
as you might expect.
Vandals have since covered the walls with graffiti,
but you can still see some of the bunker's original signs.
Well, just seeing them living here and planning their operations,
I understand a bit better now
why the resistance were called the ''army of shadows''.
Allied forces, including the Paris resistance,
liberated Paris in 1 944.
And now a new generation of bohemians
emerged to haunt the thin, winding streets
surrounding the university.
They came out at night and gathered in underground clubs.
The press called them ''cellar rats'' and ''troglodytes':
and yet even they had a strange sort of glamour.
There are few places in the world
which have the mythical status of the Left Bank, la rive gauche.
You think of students, radical intellectuals, jazz and hedonism.
And on the whole, the Left Bank delivers.
Right, so...
This is the only place in the world where you can find a machine
which doesn't sell tobacco, cigarettes or candies,
but books, just in case you have a need for enlightenment
at 3:00 in the morning.
Oops.
And I've got a special need to refresh my English,
so I'm going to choose number 24, the dictionary,
French/English, English/French.
Oh, I love it!
(IMITATING CLATTERING)
Ah, I feel much better.
The heroes of the Left Bank were philosophers,
like Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir,
known as the Existentialists.
They worked and socialised in the cafes and bars,
becoming almost permanent fixtures.
Existentialism proposed that man is alone on the earth
and he has to create his own meaning in life.
''That God doesn't exist, I cannot deny,'' said Sartre,
''but that my whole being cries out for God, I cannot forget.''
(ARGUING IN FRENCH)
Even today, talking philosophy is a sign of cool
and can be a bit of a come-on.
I, too, lived the Left Bank dream as a student back in the 1 990s.
I can't resist taking a trip down memory lane
to Rue Mouffetard, where I had my digs.
Imagine, I was this little provincial girl
just leaving family comfort to live on my own in a big city.
It was like a rebirth, actually.
My flat was just here, Hotel de Carcassonne,
a lovely little room of nine metres square
without much water, without shower, without toilets.
And I used to have, actually, my shower at public baths with beggars,
so it was all very charming and bohemian.
When I was a student, it wasn't only the bars I fell in love with,
also cinemas.
And on a day like this, let me tell you,
it's nice to go to a tiny independent cinema
and just watch all the movies you've ever wanted to watch.
Paris is mad about film, and in the age of the multiplex,
we fight hard to preserve our small cinemas.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
It was here that I first fell in love with the films of the nouvelle vague,
the Parisian underground film movement of the late '50s and '60s.
Directors like Francois Truffaut and Jean-Luc Godard
determined to wrestle cinema culture back from Hollywood,
mixing militant politics with sex appeal and style.
Their films presented an enchanting image of Paris
that made the real place all the more exciting for me.
I can't resist taking advantage of having a film crew at hand
to show you how it's done.
To make a nouvelle vague film,
first of all you need one of these, a Renault 8.
It's more than a car, it's a film machine.
All right, boys.
Nouvelle vague films were made in black-and-white on a shoestring.
The Renault 8, since it had the engine in the back,
offered a cheap way of filming people driving.
Nouvelle vague films blend Hollywood glamour
with Left Bank intellectualism.
They take the gangsters and the femmes fatales
and they put them into an existentialist setting
to explore themes like loneliness and human alienation.
New York Herald Tribune. Herald Tribune.
Whether a sulker or a fun lover,
the nouvelle vague hero is, at heart, always alone.
Nouvelle vague techniques broke with traditional filmmaking.
Most popular was le jump cut,
chopping out sections from a continuous shot,
destroying any sense of continuity of time.
The audience should never be allowed to forget
it's watching an artificial construct, a film.
So sounds can be cut out, slogans flashed up onscreen,
and the very mechanics of filmmaking revealed.
But the real star of the nouvelle vague was Paris herself.
Never was Paris so adored.
Entire scenes consist of nothing but the passing array of the city.
The nouvelle vague also did love and romance,
but it was never simple.
UE T'AIME MOI NON PLUS PLAYING)
The nouvelle vague redefined Parisian cool,
but the coolest of them all was a singer, Serge Gainsbourg.
Right up until his death in the early 1 990s,
he was the city's best-loved bohemian.
In the '60s, he summed up the entire cultural revolution
in one legendary song,
sung with his muse and lover, /ane Birkin.
When I first turned up in Paris,
I went to Serge's parents' apartment in Avenue Bugeaud,
where he put on Je t'aime moi non plus done by himself and Brigitte Bardot,
whereupon I felt distinctly sweaty around the collar,
and it was extremely attractive.
He said, ''Would you like to sing that song again?''
So off we went to Marble Arch, enormous studio.
You only had one take in those days. I think we did it in two.
He was so frightened that I'd get the breathing thing wrong
that I stop a tiny bit early, if you listen to it.
Then it goes very high.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
(HEAVY BREATHING)
We sang it, we came back to Paris.
We were in the Hotel des Beaux-Arts, just next door.
So downstairs was the restaurant, and he put on the floppy record.
And people were eating and then suddenly we put it on,
and when I started singing the beginning,
you noticed all the knives and forks went up, then complete silence.
Then people stopped eating, and then you heard people sort of go...
Like that. And Serge said, ''I think we've got a hit.''
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
The Vatican banned it, the BBC banned it.
I played it to my mother,
and very craftily, every time the heavy breathing came,
I took the needle off and put it a bit further down,
so she only heard the singing and they thought it was rather sweet.
(HEAVY BREATHING)
Even though Paris could still shock and wow the world,
it was in danger of appearing a little passe.
Despite two world wars, Paris emerged almost unscathed,
miraculously perhaps.
Well, the temptation to leave it as it is,
like a museum piece, was great,
but fortunately the city was determined not to be left behind.
The task of updating Paris fell to the students.
For many of them, the city felt burdened
with outmoded institutions and regulations,
its ancient buildings, plain old-fashioned.
The Sorbonne, the historic heart of the university,
had been a hotbed for new ideas
since its foundation in the 1 3th century.
For the youth in the '60s, it wasn't a very easy situation.
The old war hero Charles de Gaulle was still in power
and couldn't engage very much with the youth.
So you had lots of discontentment, I would say,
and people wanted just to break free.
It all began when the Sorbonne tried to expel some radical students.
A peaceful protest was met by police brutality.
The city rose up, not just students, but ordinary citizens, too.
Their cry was freedom,
freedom to be and say what they wanted without censorship.
But to the outside world
watching the riots and the destruction of the streets,
it looked as if the rioters held Paris herself to blame.
May '68 was as much a cultural as a political uprising.
There were slogans graffitied on the walls here
and on the streets outside
saying ''Pouvoir a l'imagination': ''All power to imagination''.
May '68 stopped short of full-scale revolution,
largely due to the diplomacy of Georges Pompidou.
When he was elected President the following year,
he tried to bring the city into the modern age.
Pompidou wanted to make Paris a high-tech city
and gave his support to many schemes.
Some things, like the siphoning of traffic along the Seine,
are hard to love.
Others, like La Defense, a business area on the edge of the city,
have recently come into their own.
The jewel in Pompidou's crown was the Pompidou Centre,
a palace of modern art.
Hated by many at the time,
it's now accepted as one of the city's great attractions.
Whatever the success of Pompidou's individual projects,
his attitude was right
because it created a precedent for modernisation
which allowed Paris to continue evolving.
Pompidou set a fashion that many of France's presidents followed.
Paris is now dotted with grands projets, architectural prestige projects.
Some Parisians love them, some hate them,
but the grands projets are important
because they're part of Paris as a modern city
not content to simply rest on its laurels.
Reposer sur ses lauriers, as we say in French.
But for all of Pompidou's forward thinking,
he was unable to face up to Paris'greatest challenge,
the banlieues.
Over the course of the 20th century,
the population of Paris' suburbs soared from one to 1 0 million.
Paris is becoming a tale of two cities,
rich people occupying the centre,
poor people and immigrants forced into the banlieues.
This is not the Paris people dream of,
but for three quarters of Parisians, it is reality.
Filmmaker Alice Diop has lived in the banlieue all her life.
After decades of growing tension,
in November 2005 there was violent rioting throughout the banlieues.
President Chirac declared a state of emergency.
It was like May '68 all over again,
but the motivation was different.
These Parisians were angry at being treated as second-class citizens.
Today visitors could be forgiven
for thinking that only rich people live in the centre of Paris.
It's a world of fine apartments and fancy boutiques,
indulgence and exquisite pleasures.
Even bohemianism, once an exciting artistic movement,
seems to have become no more than a fashionable affectation.
Around Canal Saint-Martin in east Paris, you find the bobos.
A bobo is a bourgeois boheme,
someone who can afford to live in the centre
but who has the bohemian values and the romantic lifestyle.
We call it ''avoir le beurre et l'argent du beurre':
in other words, having your cake and eating it.
So how can you recognise a bobo in the street?
So, usually it's by the appearance.
Camper shoes, designer clothes.
So, Chez Prune, definitely bobo, restaurant bobo.
That's not bobo at all,
but it could become bobo, because bobo likes kitsch.
Actually, there are lots of wannabe bobos,
because not many people have the cash to be bobo.
Am I a bobo?
Well, maybe not. Depends if I had a good month or not.
Real bohemianism, which endured so long,
even surviving the ravages of the Second World War,
has met its greatest match in sky-high property prices.
What has made Paris dynamic throughout the 20th century until now?
It's what lies underneath. Its anti-conformism, the underground.
And we need to keep this spirit alive.
Parisians, in their rebellious, inimitable way,
are already rising to the challenge.
(SPEAKING FRENCH)
You can see it in the many artists' squats,
old warehouses illegally occupied
by those who want to share in the city's artistic heritage
but cannot afford studio space.
This place is perfect for me.
SANDRINE: What about London and Berlin, for example?
You see this spirit outside, too.
If you're out on a Friday night in Paris' streets,
you might be treated to a special sight.
Thousands of Rollerbladers bring the city to a halt,
reminding us that Paris isn't just to be looked at and admired
but experienced and enjoyed.
This spirit will always be there because it is part of Paris' DNA,
part of what makes Paris Paris.
Over its long history, it has defined itself as a city of innovation,
a breeding ground of ideas
and a hotbed of revolution,
but most of all, a lighthouse city attracting the people of the world
to keep it ever-changing, ever-growing, ever-young.
Paris is as alluring today as ever,
not just because it has survived so well
but also because it has evolved
and Parisian people continue to keep her alive and exciting.
Who could ask for more?
(SANDRINE WHOOPS)
For a free bilingual guide
featuring one of my favourite walks in Paris
and more about Open University programmes on the BBC,
call 0870 900 958 1
or go to bbc.co.uk/paris.