Oh, Paris. Paris. PARIS. Let’s talk for a minute about Paris.
Paris is where I fell in love with art and cafés and with pointy toed shoes. It’s where I learned that I can do hard things, like set up a back account and a phone line and a student visa, all in a language I barely understood at the time. It’s where I gained so much of the confidence and independence and wanderlust that I still carry with me today. And gosh, I’ve missed the hell out of that city since the moment my year abroad ended in 2004. Shane and I went back for a few days in 2009, and then a few more in 2011, but it’s been six years since I’ve walked the Pere-Lachaise’s cobblestone streets, spoken any French, sipped a tiny espresso on a Marais cafe terrace. I was due for a romp through the City of Lights. That place was beckoning to me.
Was Jules ready to come along, though? Probably not…I mean, I have big dreams of roaming the streets of my favorite place with my favorite girl, but the full-day journey and all the walking that an urban trip like this entails just doesn’t feel like her style at this point in time. We’ll stick to beaches and mountains for a couple more years.
Cue La Verne, who took all of 7 seconds to respond with an emphatic OUI! when I asked her if she’d be up for a Parisian getaway. She booked our flights, I found us a sweet little apartment in the Marais, and then there was nothing left to do but kiss our babies and their good-hearted dads goodbye. Oh, the goodbyes…the goodbyes were hard. But we soon got over it.
We left SEA on Wednesday, landed at CDG on Thursday, snaked our way into Paris via RER and Metro and then, like magic, popped out of the stuffy underground into my beloved, bustling, beautiful city. I was hungry and exhausted and a little foggy-eyed, but the sight of those old stone buildings and the wrought iron railings and the gray zinc roofs breathed so much life into me. WE WERE IN PARIS!
We walked the few steps to our apartment’s front door and were greeted by our gracious host, who gave us the spiel, handed us our keys, and left us to squeal in delight over our lovely abode. These windows are the stuff of dreams.
We dropped our bags, slapped on a fresh coat of makeup, and headed back out in search of food and drink. We were only a few blocks from my favorite Marais cafe and snagged the last open terrace table at Les Philosophes. Red wine, chèvre-topped salad, the sound of French being spoken, and the company of a dear friend. I was in my happy place.
Sufficiently wined and dined, we spent the next couple of hours wandering around the Marais, peering into the windows of boutiques and boulangeries. We walked down rue des Rosiers and through the Place des Vosges. It all felt so wonderfully familiar to me, but was no less magical than the very first time I laid eyes on this place.
We popped back into the apartment for a quick pit-stop and a peek out those lovely windows…
But the night was still young and we were still buzzing with Paris vibes, so we headed back out and walked the few blocks to the Seine.
We wandered around Ile Saint-Louis and Ile de la Cite and saw Notre Dame and the Conciergerie and the Pont Neuf, because that’s what happens in Paris – you head out for a walk and suddenly it’s like you’ve fallen inside the pages of a travel magazine.
I mean, how is this even real?
Once the sun set, jet lag began to tug at our eyelids, so we sauntered past the Hotel de Ville (!!!) and then back to our apartment, where we started talking about the next day’s agenda and suddenly were all amped up again. WE WERE IN PARIS!
Finally, though, we called it a night and got our much-needed rest. Bonne nuit.
