This will never be my regular haunt. But it’s so odd that it’s still worth a night. I was here for the first time recently when the editor of my old newspaper asked me to write an article on sense-challenging places in Paris. (Editors can be odd too, you know).

So a Sunday night I found myself diving into the dark at the blacked out restaurant 'Dans le Noir'. I had heard about this establishment for months, but hadn’t had the courage to try it.

Now I was picked up by Hamid, a blind waiter, and guided into the dark. And saying dark, I really mean dark. Not only night or twilight, but black, blind nothing.

I heard voices, lots of voices, but was unable to say how many people were in there.

"Don’t rise without calling me, and do not stick out your knife and fork, you’ll just hurt somebody," Hamid warned.

I felt isolated in my blindness, couldn’t even call a friend, as I was forced to leave my mobile phone at the entrance.

Then my other senses started waking up. Suddenly I could smell salt-water fish and ginger from the kitchen, a certain oriental perfume from a woman out there in the dark. And I could hear. Things I never used to notice. Love, grudge, angry spouses and panic from the woman close to me. The dark, I figured out, reveals the voices – and all the unsaid stuff.

Dans le Noir was created five years ago by Edouard de Broglie and Etienne Boisrond, and the two guys had to finance the project themselves, as no investors wanted to put money into a restaurant where the food is invisible and the guests need to call a blind waiter to go to the toilet. But of course – knowing Parisian irrationality – the restaurant was immediately a success and the two guys became frontrunners of a new trend.

I had 'Menu Surprise', and as I couldn’t force myself to put something into the mouth I hadn’t seen, I used my hands. Forgot all my mother’s good education and tuck ten fingers in the sauce to pick up something I later detected as scallops.

"You don’t need to yell", Hamid said somewhere in the dark, and it wasn’t the last time that night he had to shush the guests. Because instinctively, when people can’t see each other, they think they have to speak louder.

"That’s my knee. You are touching my knee, a woman shouted on the edge of hysteria." Apparently somebody took advantage of the obscurity.

I had my main dish. It turned out to be veal with cucumber in coconut milk and ravioli with truffles and parmesan cheese. But, admitted, that I didn’t figure out before later, when the lady in the bar told me. (It’s quite hard to trace a cucumber when it’s disguised in coconut and darkness).

For desert I had bananas flambé with a spiced puff pastry, but half into it I had to leave. Suddenly it just got too much, kind of claustrophobic. So I called for Hamid, who said he was used to women getting unstable in the dark.

Probably I won’t go back. I like seeing too much. But the editor got his story, and yes, I got my senses challenged. Not to talk about my nerves. So try it, if you dare.

Dans le Noir; 51, rue Quincampoix, Paris 

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I have a certain fascination for the young, hip model Agyness Deyn and other such cool Londoners. The kind of people who can wear a leather cap, striped tights, blue shorts, suspenders and yellow cardigan… and still look fabulous.

I love people who don’t play by the fashion rules, or any other strict social rules for that matter. Whenever I read about their shopping tips, I picture myself in one of their favourite London stores.

Take B Store, which is a firm favourite with the cool set. B Store is on a quiet strip in the fashionable and very expensive shopping area of Mayfair. On my first visit, I probably expected something a bit more spectacular, something over the top, or at least something bigger. I wondered what all the fuss was about. Why are all these hip people so into this shop?

But once I got closer look, I completely saw the point. The clothes for both men and women are absolutely amazing, contemporary and cutting edge. Some of them made by the two very individual and interesting London-based designers Jens Laugesen and Peter Jensen.

B Store, 24a Saville Row W15 3PR. Tube: Oxford Circus or Picadilly Circus.

Someone told me, when I first moved to Oslo, that the best bread in town came from Åpent Bakeri. Almost four years on, I still haven’t found a better place to relax, sip coffee, and indulge in a delicious piece of bread or pastry.

There are a few Åpent Bakeri outlets in the city, but my favourite has got to be the café at Ulleval Hageby, around 10 minutes walk from Ulleval Stadium’s T-bane stop. A wall of hand-made bread, freshly baked on the premises, makes for a tough decision but I nearly always opt for a piece of muesli bread which, with its nuts, fruit and wholegrain flour would be healthy if it wasn’t for the sheer size of it; this roll is a meal in itself.

If you’re digestive system isn’t up to the high-fibre challenge, I can highly recommend boller (soft, sweet rolls infused with just the right amount of cinnamon), scones with raisins, nuts and a hint of orange zest, or the ever-reliable treat that is pain au chocolat.

The café’s interior is bright and fresh, with black and white tiles on the floor, and snazzy lighting on the wall. However, if the weather is good enough – and Norwegians sit outside even in the cool weather of spring and autumn, using the blankets provided for warmth - the terrace is a must.

It pays to turn up early, as the bread disappears fast, with lots of people doing take-away, and vacant seats at a premium. One advantage of having to queue at the counter is the time it allows for gazing at the glorious bread and making what can be a surprisingly difficult decision.

Åpent Bakeri, Damplassen 24-25, Oslo.

One advantage of having children is that you come to know everyone regardless of class or profession. My daughter played in kindergarten with the son of the director of Mediamatic an (e)cultural institution operating in the field of new media, art and society. Right now the threat of a substantial cut in state grants forces Mediamatic to fight back with highly ludicrous activities in the city. Measures such as handing over their library to the public and several other protests recall the spirit of the activism of art movements like Cobra or the Situationist International.

Like a Comme des Garçons guerrilla store, their office hopped from one over the top location to the next. Having just left POST CS (the building where Club 11 used to be) they have now opened their doors in the former headquarters of the ABN bank.

This summer Mediamatic curated an exhibition IKIKIK=MEMEME with designer Andrea Crews, who is known for similar events in Palais de Tokyo (Paris) and Madrid.

During this interactive show on fashion and self representation on the internet, with what they call a big component of DIY=do-it-yourself, you can perform on several levels: you can join upcycle yourself workshops, professional catwalk workshops, buy retro basic clothes for 5 euro a kilo and sew them straight away into streetwear, participate in photoshoots to name but a few of them.

A huge pile of clothes in the middle of the ground floor of this old bank building dominates the space, flanked by sewing machines, a bar with a garden view and a catwalk. For those who are not ultimately creative themselves you can buy some piece of clothes and let Mediamatic takeover the complete the makeover.

Mediamatic Bank; Vijzelstraat 68

Exhibition 18 July-14 September 2008