Bonjour ça va ?
Je suis vraiment desolée for the extended wait between newsletters. I turned the big 3 0 on 1 May and took the month off for some much-needed recalibration. My Dad also visited from Australia—his first time leaving Hermit Kingdom in almost 3 years! But it brings me so much joy to write this newsletter so I am back and now writing with the poise and presence of a thirty-year-old :)
If you’re in Australia and you’ve been starved of updates from Paris in my absence, I’d recommend picking up a copy of Gourmet Traveller. For their latest (June) issue, I interviewed Hanz Gueco, an Australian chef who’s at the helm of the fabulous Parisian neo-bistro Ellsworth, and offered a few hot tips on the latest restaurant openings here. I won’t say anymore—pick up a copy and read for yourself!
Summer has flooded Paris and I, for one, am not complaining. But as soon as lady soleil graces us with her aureate rays, I am overcome with an insatiable desire to plunge myself into a body of water. Preferably ocean, preferably outdoors—but for aquaholics who live in landlocked cities like Paris (i.e. myself) beggars can’t be choosers and I’ve learned to settle for the chlorinated cauldrons that Parisians attempt ‘laps’ in.
But for all the non-descript adult paddling pools that dot the capital, there are several historied and gilded piscines offering both a refreshing dip and an architecture lesson in one. So after years of navigating the pool scene, I’ll walk you through the experience so that you don’t end up as I did after my first Parisian swim: towel stolen and having to wander home through the streets of Paris looking like a frigid drowned rat.
Whether a tourist or resident, you’ll thank me in summer when the 37°C+ heat clobbers the city.
À la piscine
In Australia, learning to swim is like learning to walk—it’s a life skill imperative to survive not only one’s school’s annual swimming carnival but also to stay afloat in the often-perilous waters that surround our great land Down Under. Every state in Australia (bar Queensland) requires primary school children to learn swimming and water safety.
With these lessons comes an unspoken training in the art of lane etiquette: how to do laps in an orderly rhythm without obstructing other swimmers’ stroke. Lanes are classified by speed, and you literally stay in your lane—swimming up and down the left side with enough space between you and the swimmer ahead so as not to steal their slipstream. One would think this is simply a matter of common sense—until you come to France.
I was surprised to read that in France swimming lessons are also compulsory at school because a trip to your local piscine would suggest otherwise. I have never experienced so much ego, so much incompetence in one place (other than perhaps the French visa office).
The hassle starts before you’ve even set sight on the pool. In Paris, swimming attire is strictly mandated: women must wear one-pieces and men can only wear budgie smugglers—pas de boardshorts svp! The rule follows a fear that men will spend their days walking about in their boardshorts and then jump straight in, polluting the pool with the day’s debris.
Which is completely pointless because no visitor is even allowed to enter the pool area before winding their way through a maze of showers and foot basins to ensure every swimmer is squeaky clean. Only your towel is permitted poolside (keep within eyesight! People steal towels!) and your swimming cap must be on your head before you leave the locker rooms.
The cherished French maxim of liberté, fraternité, égalité holds dictum once you’re in the pool. Some pools have lanes but they are rarely divided by speed (‘everyone is equal!’ a lifeguard once explained to me). And I think that even if there were, everyone would assign themselves to the fast lane in a show of ego more than ability.
In terms of strokes, you are libre to flail your limbs in whatever way feels right to you without any regard for anyone else. I’ve seen people swim up and down the same side, attempt to overlap someone else overlapping (read: three-way traffic jam), or just simply cruise up the centre taking the whole lane to themselves. I’ve seen people swimming with surgical face masks, I’ve seen people swimming with snorkels. You do you.
I’m not a half-bad swimmer and I take my laps very seriously so I’ve had a fair few blowouts with men who simply cannot accept that a woman may be faster than them (fraternité!). I’ve had people put on flippers (both hands and feet) so that they can overtake me and soothe their bruised egos.
But there is a way to circumvent the chaos! For those of you who are a rather serious swimmer like myself, I’d recommend diving in at opening hours (7 am) when most are still sleeping or late at night (some pools are open till 11 pm) as in summer most people would rather drink a piscine on a terrasse than dive into one.
Avoid at all costs the lunchtime hour (too many suits trying to cool off) and early evenings/Wednesday afternoons when school swimming lessons take place. But weekends are surprisingly chill!
Here are a few of my favourites. Some of them are significant historical Art Deco monuments so it’s worth the swim if only for the surroundings!
Piscine Pointoise (75005): A 50m pool with Art Deco mosaics lining the walls and personal changing cabins. You must wait for an attendant to let you in and out of your cabin but it’s so nice to have your own space to change out of your bathers. This is where my towel was stolen so do be careful!
Piscine Josephine Baker (75013): Sold to me as the Boy Charlton of Paris—I wouldn’t go that far but it is an outdoor pool floating on the Seine. Because of its idyllic location, this is a pool I’d avoid during the crunch hours mentioned above. The last time I went on a lunch break, the pool turned to soup as there were simply too many people (including several people swimming in soaking FACE MASKS).
Molitor (75016): Perhaps the most iconic pool in Paris, it’s where the bikini was first showcased. It’s not easy to access (memberships start at something like 3000€) but I’d recommend treating yourself to a staycation at the surrounding hotel so that you can make use of the pool (it’s actually very affordable). We went in winter—midnight swimming in the well-heated outdoor pool when it was 2°C outside was one of the most magical experiences of my life.
Piscine Butte-aux-Cailles (75013): Another Art Deco gem from the 1920s, Butte-aux-Cailles boasts both indoor and outdoor pools. They are heated by a natural sulphur spring to a delightful 28°C.
Vin Piscine
Summer is not only the time to swim in a piscine but also to drink one. Vin piscine refers to the highly controversial action of putting ice cubes in usually a white, rosé or champagne wine to keep it chilled or to ‘dilute’ it. Some sommeliers have complained that it’s the “most annoying customer habit” so I decided to ask my wine professional friends their views on the issue:
I can’t say I’m entirely guilt-free of this sacrilegious act because let’s be honest: it can be quite refreshing in the summer swelter and it’s a wonderful mind trick to convince yourself that you’re drinking less.
The French might have a tough time swimming in orderly straight lines but if there is one thing they’ve got down-packed, it’s wine etiquette. And there are a few rules to follow if you deign to plop a cold one in your vino and risk an ice pick up your butt.
There are certain wines that can handle cold better than others, notably those with high sugar content or bright crisp varieties that will retain their acidity. Think Pinot Grigios, late-harvest Rieslings, dry rosés, and Sauvignon Blanc.
Never add ice to red wine. Yes, some should be served chilled, but the ice will interfere with the tannins turning your wine into an acidic mess.
Certain champagnes are designed specifically to handle ice: Moet & Chandon’s Ice Imperial, Veuve Cliquot’s Rich, Pommery’s Blue Sky. The latter suggests adding exactly 5 ice cubes made from mineral water to your glass for the ultimate thirst quencher.
Or you can simply stick one to the man and enjoy all champagne as Bill Murray does: in a pint glass, on the rocks.
Size matters! The bigger the ice cube the better as it melts slower and therefore dilutes the wine slower.
Try adding frozen grapes rather than ice cubes—they will chill the wine without significantly diluting it.
You can also try the ‘drop and plop’ technique: simply add an ice cube for 20 seconds then spoon it out to avoid dilution.
There is one occasion when it is actually recommended to add ice and that’s when you’re drinking cheap, low-quality wine (at Le Progrès, for example). The water will help cut the harshness and make it more palatable.
Finally, it goes without saying that you should never mention your bad habit to a winemaker as a lot of hard work goes into making a wine with the intention that it will taste perfect as is. Nor should you dare add ice cubes to an expensive bottle. The bottle may need to be chilled but this is the preferred way to bring a wine to its correct temperature.
One final note… Writing this newsletter is a labour of pure love so if you enjoy my writing (and are able to) please consider Buying Me a Coffee. It’s a wonderful initiative that allows people to support creatives, like myself, with a small donation at the price of a coffee.
A la prochaine! I’ll be back with a summer bumper special to make up for lost time.