Sunday was our last full day in Paris and the agenda was simple: art, eat, walk, eat. And maybe drink something bubbly somewhere in between…
La Verne and I had decided to bypass our favorite museums on this trip, as we didn’t want to spend our precious time in the city standing in line, but it hardly felt right to visit Paris without seeing some sort of art , so we settled on checking out the big Christian Dior exhibition at the Musee des Arts. We had heard the show was huge and amazing and we asked ourselves, “When are we ever going to have another chance like this?”.
Once we made it through the line and past the masses crowded into the first couple of rooms, I was totally swept up in the detail and creativity and evolution of the fashion on display -Â some of these dresses are total masterpieces.
I could almost feel the boundaries being pushed, each decade’s norms being broken.
We left the museum hungry and in need of fresh air, so we walked the couple of blocks to Le Fumoir for a terrace lunch. Our healthy, crisp salads were followed by a couple of steaming mugs of ultra-thick chocolat chaud. It’s the dessert of champions.
We decided to spend our final afternoon in Paris wandering through gardens and along the river, savoring the flowers and the fountains and the waterfront paths that are so good on an October afternoon. We started at the courtyard of the Palais Royale and then strolled through its meticulously manicured garden.
From there, we sauntered west through the courtyard of the Louvre into the Jardin des Tuileries, which seems to stretch on forever with its golden trees and bright flowers and crowds of lounging Parisians in those lovely painted green chairs.
We crossed the Seine at Pont de la Concorde, pausing for a final look at the Tour Eiffel. Â So long, old friend…
And then we walked and walked and walked, past the Musee d’Orsay and the Institut de France and one big beautiful building after another.
At Notre Dame we crossed the river back into our ‘hood, where we grabbed a couple of beautiful eclairs and a bottle of champagne for a happy hour snack.  We ate and drank our treats back at our apartment – with windows like these, it was as ideal a place as any to toast to our last night in Paris!
It looks like La V is about to chow down on a mustard-covered hot dog, but that’s actually a passionfruit eclair sprinkled with freeze-dried raspberries! And it was AMAZING.
Once the champagne had run dry and we’d licked the last of the passionfruit icing off our fingers, we headed out for dinner. First though, a stop at Pierre Herme for macarons. For the kiddos, of course.
We were craving a quintessentially French meal and found it at Boucherie Rouliere in Saint-Germain-des-Pres.  A Kir aperitif, French onion soup, steak frites, wine… Ohhhh. La. La.
We rolled out of the restaurant buzzed on wine and beef and walked a little around Saint-Germain before heading back to our apartment. Gosh, I was going to miss being out after dark, breezing by dramatic centuries-old cathedrals and brightly lit cobblestoned alleys and the glittering river Seine. Truly, there’s no place like Paris at night.
I fell asleep with the curtains wide open, wanting to relish every last minute with this view.
La Verne and I rallied hard to pull ourselves out of bed early-ish on Monday, so that we could enjoy a couple of hours out in the city before heading to the airport in the late morning. We walked past Bastille and down rue Cremieux, hailed as “Paris’ Notting Hill”.
One final cafe creme…
And then a quick loop past some of the greatest hits.
I knew I needed to get back to the apartment and prepare for takeoff, but I couldn’t resist one more trip across the Seine to Ile Saint-Louis. I popped into Eglise Saint-Louis-en-l’Ile and sat for just a moment in one of those chairs, saying a prayer of gratitude for the wonders of the previous few days.
And then, it was go-time. Farewell, sweet Paris. Farewell, windows of my dreams.
I sighed a few sad sighs as we headed to the airport, but once we were up in the air, I couldn’t wait to get back to Seattle and wrap my arms around Shane and Juliette. I needed a hug. And the minute I got off that Sea-Tac escalator, I was greeted with the warmest of welcomes. Paris has Notre Dame, but Seattle has this kid. Seattle wins!
That Monday happened to be my 36th birthday. I woke up in my favorite place in the world and ended my day at home with my favorite two people in the world. Happy Birthday to me.