The Forgotten Treehouses of Paris: Rediscovering Les Guinguettes de Robinson
- dthholland
- 9 minutes ago
- 4 min read
There was once a time when Parisians traded the grand boulevards and zinc-topped cafés of the capital for something rather more whimsical: lunch in the treetops, champagne among the chestnut leaves, and dancing in forest clearings. A century and a half ago, just south of the city, nestled in the hamlet of Saint-Éloi, a curious and enchanting world took shape—Les Guinguettes de Robinson.
These treehouse taverns, inspired by the adventures of Robinson Crusoe, offered urban dwellers a chance to escape into fantasy. Perched high in the branches, patrons dined in rustic platforms, their meals hoisted up to them in wicker baskets by pulley ropes. Wine flowed, roast chickens were carved, and the foliage bore silent witness to stolen kisses and sun-dappled feasts.
Birth of a Belle Époque Eden
The story began in 1848, when a local innkeeper, swept up in the popular fervour for Defoe’s marooned castaway, erected a restaurant in a towering chestnut tree. He called it Le Grand Robinson, and it became an instant sensation. Its novelty, dining amid the leaves, proved irresistible to Parisians eager for diversion. Before long, rival establishments followed suit, setting up their own Crusoe-themed taverns along the wooded Rue Malabry in what was then the countryside beyond the city’s limits.
The atmosphere was one of carefree delight. Guinguettes, as these establishments were known, were already a familiar summer institution in France—open-air cafés with music, dancing, food and drink, often situated by rivers. Artists such as Monet and Renoir famously immortalised them in their Impressionist canvases, capturing the blur of movement and colour beneath paper lanterns. But the Robinson guinguettes added something even more fantastical: altitude and adventure.
By 1888, competition was so fierce that the original Grand Robinson had to rebrand as Le Vrai Arbre de Robinson—“The Real Robinson Tree”—to distinguish itself from the lookalikes. Its greatest rival across the way called itself Le Grand Arbre, and the rivalry only deepened the appeal for Parisians who came in droves, helped by the expansion of the suburban rail lines that now ferried them out of the city with relative ease.
A contemporary food critic in 1855 observed, “Lavish tables were set and lovebirds without feathers but forks in hand exchanged happy kisses in the breeze, witnessed only by the foliage.”
A Playground Among the Branches
The area became a veritable summer wonderland. There were dance halls and open-air pavilions, exotic island-style huts, fairground rides, and swings hung from the very trees where diners perched. Even donkey races were held—perhaps ill-advised after generous pours of wine.
Children revelled in the spectacle while adults enjoyed the gentle debauchery. It was a time of gaiety and release, the kind of seasonal joy that seemed suspended from time, and indeed for more than a hundred years, the Robinson treehouses thrived as a cherished tradition.
Decline and Disappearance
As with many Belle Époque pleasures, the world wars would cast a long shadow. After the Second World War, the guinguette lifestyle fell out of fashion. The 1950s saw dance halls repurposed or demolished. One was even sold to a Renault factory. The spirit of the Robinsons flickered out one by one.
An attempt to revive Le Vrai Arbre de Robinson in the 1970s brought brief hope. Backed by French cultural figures including singer Johnny Hallyday, a new Robinson Village was launched—but it never recaptured the magic. The final treehouse tavern, Le Grand Arbre, closed in 1976. In its place arose American-style attractions: a Wild West saloon, an “Indian” village, disco nights—none of which endured.
Today, almost nothing remains.
The site of this once-famous escape is now the smart Parisian suburb of Le Plessis-Robinson, a name chosen in honour of the area’s playful past. But evidence of the old guinguettes has largely been absorbed by time. At 32 Rue de Malabry, the former location of Le Vrai Arbre de Robinson, a crumbling staircase and decaying platforms are all that’s left of the grand treehouse that once stood there. The chestnut tree is gone, its wooden crown stripped away. A Robinson Crusoe statue that once welcomed guests still survives though, now standing quietly in a nearby public garden.
Yet all is not forgotten.
Each summer, Le Plessis-Robinson continues to host guinguette festivals, with music, dancing, and food, in a nod to its lively origins. It’s a tradition that endures, even if in a changed form, and visitors who venture south of the city can still imagine the laughter and clatter of cutlery rising into the trees.
A Day Trip into the Past
For lovers of obscure Parisian history, or those with a soft spot for whimsical relics, Le Plessis-Robinson offers a compelling day trip. While the treehouses may have faded into memory, echoes of their magic still linger—if you know where to look.
Walk down Rue Malabry with a copy of Defoe under your arm and see if you can trace the remnants of Paris’s long-lost treetop paradise. Seek out the garden statue, peer behind the old façades, and picture the summer sunlight catching the rims of champagne glasses swaying in the canopy.
For one brief century, Parisians danced in the trees. And although the leaves have fallen, the story remains.
Sources and References
Messy Nessy Chic – “The Forgotten Treehouses of Paris”
A comprehensive article exploring the history and decline of Les Guinguettes de Robinson, including rare photographs and historical anecdotes.
https://www.messynessychic.com/2015/06/05/the-forgotten-treehouses-of-paris/
Le Plessis-Robinson Official Municipal Website
Provides historical context about the origins of the town’s name, as well as information on current guinguette festivals and commemorations.
Gallica – Bibliothèque nationale de France (BnF)
A valuable archive for 19th-century French periodicals and guidebooks, including accounts of suburban guinguettes and Parisian leisure culture.
Paris in the Belle Époque: 1900–1914 by Vincent Bouvet and Gérard Durozoi
(Flammarion, 2010)
Offers a detailed examination of popular Parisian entertainment in the early 20th century, including guinguettes and other working-class venues.
“Guinguettes: A Tradition of French Working-Class Leisure” – France Today
An overview of the cultural significance and evolution of guinguettes in and around Paris.
Daniel Defoe – Robinson Crusoe (1719)
Though not a historical source per se, the novel’s immense popularity in 19th-century France inspired the theme and naming of the Robinson treehouse restaurants.
“From Montmartre to the Suburbs: Parisian Escapes in the 19th Century” – Musée Carnavalet Exhibition Notes
Notes from past exhibitions detailing how Parisians used expanding rail lines to reach leisure destinations outside the city centre.
Old postcards and archival photographs
Various public domain images of Le Grand Arbre and Le Vrai Arbre de Robinson, available via historical postcard collections and local archives.
