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Centre Pompidou

by yudaica2013 ·

There is nothing more sensual and delightful to hear from the lips of a beautiful and coaxed artist to pronounce the name of this city in their original language. Imaginenlo for a moment, please. The beauty of Paris lies in that it remains 100 percent Parisian. After shrugging with a scornful EUMM and a distant bof!, the city has accepted, but has mostly ignored, the arrival of other cultures. When it opened the first McDonalds, had to change the names of the burgers (remember rap Royale with cheese of John Travolta in Pulp Fiction): even the most universal brands have to abide by the Parisian discipline. Paris is imperecederamente homogeneous. The nineteenth-century street layout of the baron (numerous later urban designs model), to which the Elysian fields, give solidity remains almost intact despite the efforts of the revolutionaries, the Carnival, the liberators and the events of 1968.

The buildings of three and four floors, with the roof with an attic floors, are the architectural blotting paper of the City, able to absorb just as easily the Place des Vosges, of the ancien regime, the Centre Pompidou or the glass pyramid of the Louvre designed by I.M. Pei. Meanwhile, its best-known landmarks bear standing at least one century (representative eiffel tower and the whitest Sacre – Coeur) or almost eight (Notre – Dame). The center of the city (agglomeration beyond the periphery is as infinite as in most of the cities) is compact and easy to explore on foot. The surrealists gave much valos to the action of walking as the best way to find limpromptu, and there is no better way to explore Paris taking metro hata one of those so suggestive stations with names so suggestive and promising as Jasmin, Glaciere or pyramids, and walk without the aid of any map by the spiral of arrondissements and quartiers.

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