The Dangers of Over-planning in Paris

Do yourself a favor and leave some moments to chance

Henri-Gabriel Ibels, 1893

Earlier this year, I published a list of quality markers—plaques, signs, stickers—that you might find posted on the fronts of Paris’s restaurants, to help you out of a jam when you’re stranded and hungry, with no reservations. You can read that list here, along with an explanation of the meaning behind each distinction. The idea, of course, was to lessen the reliance on reservations, and encourage one small step in the direction of spontaneity.

Since that list was not exhaustive, I thought that this week, I’d compile part II to give you rock-solid fluency in these restaurant hieroglyphs. But then I reread the quote from the top of that post.

“Travel is like a shipwreck, and those whose boat has not sunk will never know anything about the sea”

-Nicolas Bouvier, Le vide et le plein: Carnet du Japon

Would the journeying writers of yesteryear, like Mark Twain or the one with the bullfights who blew his own head off, even recognize modern travel? Today’s version looks awfully different than it did even fifteen years ago. A few taps on a slab of glass will summon all the practical information one could possibly desire, presenting it in concise, digestible bullets, or reels, or albums. Why, then, leave anything to chance? Why stumble through your high school French over the phone with the maître d’ when it’s easier to just reserve online? There’s simply no need to struggle. Every inefficiency has been ironed out, every challenge has been lifted, all uncertainty erased.

As recently as the 1970s, a resident of Bologna could ride the rails 43 kilometers east to Modena, and discover a curious nectar, a divine, inky syrup called aceto balsamico. What a revelation! A new world of flavor was hiding in the confines of the neighboring town!

Today, our travels are defined less by discoveries than by a sequence of preordained experiences. One might even go so far as to plan every bite, snack, and sip, of a trip months in advance, with intel from the NYT, Instagram, and ChatGPT to assuage any surprises. Paris, then, is solved. Travel is solved.

But planning this neurotically would be like spoiling the plot of a thriller before walking into the theater. It’d be like watching a baseball game to which you already know the outcome. Or like flying thousands of miles without really going anywhere. Where is the appeal?

Perhaps we’ve lost the essence of the word. To what extent, for instance, is Sergei Brin—on his 142-meter megayacht—still sailing?

The real magic of this city, of this life, is found in those events we cannot plan, in the meanderings we leave to chance. But clear expectations are a hard drug to kick. How can we possibly free ourselves from the tyranny of their clutches, and rediscover adventure?

Hemingway, Twain, and Bourdain viewed travel through a similar lens. They held no expectations, no reservations (I couldn’t resist). They weren’t hell bent on outcomes. They didn’t submit to checklists. They simply followed their whims.

Of course, that ethos resulted in more than one bad meal. But, so what? As much can be learned about a place from a bad meal as from a good one. It took the trauma of Famous Ray’s to help me appreciate Joe’s. On the other hand, those same faulty whims produced travels rich enough to fill several books and captivate generations.

On Paris and planning, Anthony Bourdain had this to say: “The absolute worst thing to do when you come to Paris is plan too much. Eiffel Tower, Notre-Dame, Arc de Triomphe, stand in line for hours to experience what everybody says you have to. Me? I like to take it easy in Paris, especially if I’m only in town for a few days.

“Most of us are lucky to see Paris once in a lifetime. Make the most of it by doing as little as possible. Walk a little, get lost a bit, eat, catch a breakfast buzz, have a nap, try and have sex if you can, just not with a mime. Eat again. Lounge around drinking coffee. Maybe read a book. Drink some wine, walk around a bit more, eat, repeat. See? It’s easy.”

We all owe a debt of gratitude to the planners of the world for steering our ships. Without them, we’d all be lost. But it wouldn’t hurt to remind them to relax now and then. The worst that can happen is a little wreck.

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If you’re coming to Paris and you’d like to taste excellent products and get a solid lay of the land before leaving the rest of the day to chance, you can sign up for my food tours here.

See you next week,

Max