A Perfect Day in the Marais

"And if we only had one day?" A question asked a hundred times, an answer polished a hundred times: here it is in full, calibrated from the Jewel, with the timings that make all the difference.

8:30 a.m. A croissant and a tradition loaf from the artisan baker on the rue Saint-Antoine, then the Église Saint-Paul-Saint-Louis while the light cuts across the nave at an angle. Delacroix left a Christ in the Garden of Olives there that almost no one looks at. Be almost no one.

10 a.m. The Carnavalet at opening, free and nearly empty. Ninety minutes at most: the Revolution rooms, Proust's bedroom, the old shop signs. On the way out, our favorite shortcut in all of Paris: the Hôtel de Sully through the door on the rue Saint-Antoine, whose garden opens secretly onto the Place des Vosges. A lap of the arcades before the crowds; the Maison de Victor Hugo is free, if the mood takes you.

12:30 p.m. A slow wander down the rue des Francs-Bourgeois (the shop windows) and the rue de Bretagne (the real life) to the Marché des Enfants Rouges. Lunch elbow to elbow, then a roaster's coffee two streets away.

2:30 p.m. The Musée Picasso, one hour, the grand staircase as the finale. Then the most important part of the day: plan nothing. The rue des Rosiers (babka), the rue Vieille-du-Temple, the courtyards of the Village Saint-Paul and its antique dealers. The Marais rewards those who push open the half-ajar carriage doors: it's perfectly legal, and that is where the marvels are.

6 p.m. The Pont Marie, a lap of the Île Saint-Louis with an ice cream in hand, then sunset from the Pont de la Tournelle, Notre-Dame in all her majesty. Per square meter, the highest density of beauty in the city. Free.

8:30 p.m. Dinner in the lower Marais (booked the day before — our addresses are in the guide), then a ten-minute walk home. To fall asleep next to where you lived your day: we built two entire apartments around that very idea.