Chez Prune by the Canal Saint-Martin is among the places I associate with a very specific time in my life: The three years I was a correspondent for the Danish newspaper Berlingske Tidende.

I lived in the building across from it, on the other side of the canal, and I was expected to have read the morning papers before 1 pm when they called from the international editor’s office. So every morning I nipped over the arched bridge, bought three or four papers at the newsagent and took a seat by one of the small round tables at Prune.

A simple place with bass chairs and broken op mosaics on the floor, but with an honest feel that appeals equally to the old workmen, who still drink their first daily pastis at the bar, and the newcomers in the neighborhood, the advertising crowd who just settle for a coffee before they rush off to the metro.

In this spot, I’ve read columns of French domestic matters while trying to figure out what was worth reporting home. In this spot, I’ve hung out with Tove, my Danish friend from the 6th floor who was stationed for a textile company from Jutland, and right here was where I sought temporary refuge when my neighbor Francois, the assistant film director, had his mistress over. She was one of France’s most famous actresses and arrived to the flat with huge black Dior sun glasses, which presumably should make her less recognizable. When they made love I had to take a walk, because Francois’ bed was placed right on the other side of my wall from my desk and the diva’s screams were so loud that I couldn’t concentrate on my political analyses for the newspaper. Luckily, the affair only lasted at couple of months.

In summer time Chez Prune has a lovely outdoor service on the sidewalk with a direct view of the canal and- it must be said – the cars that  rush by on the quay. They are open until two in the morning and the place is always worth to stop by for at drink or a cup of coffee. However, the food is not that interesting and drop the wine, it’s drab.

Chez Prune, 71, quai de Valmy, 10. arr. Metro: République or Jaques Bonsergent.

By Louise Sandager, extract from the travel guide PARIS mon amour!, published by Gyldendal.