Immortalized in countless paintings, the Luxembourg Gardens present all that is unique and befuddling about Parisian parks: swarms of pigeons, cookie-cutter trees, ironed-and-pressed dirt walkways, and immaculate lawns meant for admiring, not touching. The tree- and bench-lined paths offer a reprieve from the incessant bustle of the Quartier Latin, as well as an opportunity to discover the dotty old women and smooching university students who once found their way into Doisneau photographs. Somewhat austere during the colder months, the garden becomes intoxicating as spring fills the flower beds with daffodils, tulips, and hyacinths; the pools teem with boats nudged along by children, and the paths with Parisians thrusting their noses toward the sun. The park's northern boundary is dominated by the Palais du Luxembourg, surrounded by a handful of well-armed guards; they are protecting the senators who have been deliberating in the palace since 1958. Feel free to move the green chairs around to create your own picnic area or people-watching site.

Although the garden may seem purely French, the original 17th-century planning took its inspiration from Italy. When Maria de' Medici acquired the estate of the deceased duke of Luxembourg in 1612, she decided to turn his mansion into a version of the Florentine Medici home, the Palazzo Pitti. She ended up with something more Franco-Italian than strictly Florentine. The land behind the palace was loosely modeled on the Boboli Gardens, though the result turned out to be a combination of romantic English-style lawns and formal French flower gardens. The landscapers, like the architects, didn't design a true version of the Florentine garden, opting instead for the emerging style of heavy-handed human manipulation of nature -- linear vistas, box-trimmed trees, and color-coordinated flower beds -- which further defined the "French" garden. A tiny corner of the park still has that nature-on-the-brink-of-overwhelming-civilization look that was the trademark of the Renaissance Italian garden -- namely, the intentionally overgrown cluster of trees and bushes lining the 1624 Fontaine de Médicis. A sculpture with figures from Greek mythology and the Medici coat of arms stands at the head of a rectangular basin, where fish wink through the shadowy water. The park captured the hearts of Parisians when it became public after the Revolution. Dozens of statues now stand along the terraces and walks, including a light-footed dancing faun, a memorial to painter Delacroix, and several French queens.

One of the great attractions of the park is the Théâtre des Marionnettes, where on Saturday and Sunday at 11 and 3:15 and on Wednesday at 3:15 you can catch one of the classic guignols (marionette shows) for a small admission charge. The wide-mouthed kids are the real attraction; their expressions of utter surprise, despair, or glee have fascinated the likes of Henri Cartier-Bresson and François Truffaut. The park also offers a merry-go-round, swing sets, and pony rides; older visitors should look for the music pergola, which has live performers on summer weekends, the apiary, and an area devoted to trellised fruit trees. Finally, for those eager to burn off their pastry breakfasts, the Jardin du Luxembourg has a well-maintained trail around the perimeter, one of the few public places the French will be seen in athletic clothes. It takes an average jogger 20 minutes to get all the way around; water fountains are strategically placed along the way. Men of all ages are also strategically placed around the garden, and their comments can be aggravating for women in the park alone. Otherwise this is a great escape. Métro: Odéon; RER: Luxembourg.