welcome to ~low wales m r ans. I nave set out in mese pages to snar，<br >the tremendous pleasure that Paris has given me since I first wen<br >there at the age often. Trooping around in a school crocodile， usuall，<br >at the tail of it， urged on by patient masters， I absorbed sights anc<br >smells which have lodged ever since in my memory. Here are one o<br >two samples: hot chocolate in a deep bowl for breakfast， a mist~<br >morning at the top of the Eiffel Tower， the pen-knife shop near th~<br >Panthron， gusts ofgadic on the Metro， chorus-girl posters in Pigalle<br >aniseed balls from a slot machine. The usual stuff that schoolboy<br >like， much of it to do with eating.<br > Since then n~y picture of the city has grown slightly broader anc<br >slightly more detailed， though the method of transport remains th~<br >same. We walked then and I walk now. Paris has that special power t~<br >stimulate all kinds of people， residents and visitors， to take to th~<br >pavements and wander without thought of time from one quarter t~<br >the next， developing that mood of unhurried curiosity which is prob<br >ably the best approach to somewhere as spectacular and diverse<br >somewhere that lives as well， as this city. Unless you spend year<br >there， you can never hope to see it all; better to explore it one piece a<br >a time. Slow Walks， I thought， would be a good way of doing this il<br >print: describing the city through a series of routes that readers couk<br >fr， llr~up in fh~ir r，~xrn firnp<br >