ADVENTURES IN PARIS | PART ONE
Monday - Day No. 5 - Arrival in Paris
Even though our train ride on the Eurostar was over two hours, it felt like hardly any time had passed as we arrived at Gare du Nord. We entered the station and I was immediately aware of the difficulty of reading anything. My husband proceeded to purchase our train passes while I waited for him off to the side of the walkway. In the midst of the afternoon rush, a young man walked right up to me and asked me for directions in French. Taken aback and a little embarrassed at my lack of abilities with the language, I somberly replied in English that I did not speak French. He didn't seem to be bothered and continued through the labyrinth of Gare du Nord. After a decidedly good length of time, my husband returned, train passes in hand, and we started toward the RER Station.
Although we had used the tube in London, we were both thrown off a bit by the RER train. For one, everything was in French, but the second was the little nuisance of having to press the button for the door to open. My two or three-second delay in understanding the function of the door caused me to be rushed and I caught part of the stroller wheel on the gap between the door and the platform. Finally yanking the wheel free, I looked behind me to see that my husband had moved two of our bags onto the platform, but as he returned for one other bag and the pack n’ play, the door shut. He was stuck on the train heading to the next station! I felt so terrible at this point. The look we gave each other as my husband was swept away was one of shock and I knew we both were already problem-solving around our little set-back. I could not get a signal in the underground. So, I sat on a bench on the other side of the platform waiting for my husband to catch the next train back. I was tired and nervous. I thought that my husband would snap at me or even worse, internalize his anger and be silent with me until we reached our Airbnb. After all, I felt as though the incident was my fault. Thankfully, my husband did neither of those things and was simply thankful to be reunited with us without too much hassle. I realized as we started to walk toward the station exit that we both must have thought we were at fault. I don’t know why I expect the worst sometimes.
We were walking toward the station exit and suddenly we both came to a halt. There were no elevators! France may be beautiful and romantic, but as a parent with loads of luggage I wanted to just scream. How could there not be elevators? On top of that, the escalators were under construction. We reluctantly found the stairs that towered to the left of us and tried to game-plan our way to the top. Thankful, a young man happened to be climbing the stairs near us and offered to help. I was going to hold one end of the stroller while he lifted the other. But after five steps the man simply picked up the stroller, with my son strapped in, and carried the two to the top. I told him, “Merci, merci,” over and over. Meanwhile, my husband had somehow maneuvered nearly all of our belongings to the top of the stairs. We breathed a sigh of relief and then ventured out of the station and into Paris.
We felt a bit more at ease once we made it to the surface and recognized the entrance to the Musee d’Orsay. Our Airbnb was only a couple blocks away behind the grand museum. We found our place with ease and relished the quintessential French building and courtyard. Our place was one flight of stairs up and although not exactly the best for a kiddo (there were a lot of media cabinets with little things) we made do and rested for a spell.
After much research on Yelp and other sites, we found a Café on the Saint-Germain had Confit de Canard. Instead of testing our son out at dinner on our first night we decided to do takeaway. We visited the restaurant in person and they were very kind and attentive to us even though we were ordering our food to go. Our waiter talked with us about our son and started talking about his kids at home. Again, kids are such a unifying essence. Our food took less time than I thought it would and before long, we were bundled up and walking back to our apartment. Dinner was delicious. Even takeaway duck confit was better than so many other foods I have tasted in my life. We made the mistake of also ordering the Steak Frites when in reality, we really should have planned on two orders of the duck confit. There was no comparison. After our lovely dinner late in the evening, we all settled in for some much-needed sleep.
Tuesday - Day No. 6 - Tuileries, Panthéon, Gérard Mulot
We woke up late in the morning, for us. It was after 8am when I awoke with my husband slightly snoring on one side and my son perfectly still on the other side of me. I laid in bed enjoying the beautiful room and reviewing what photos I had taken so far. By half past nine, I couldn’t wait anymore, I had to use the restroom. Sure enough after I had so painstakingly crept off the end of the bed, the door to the bathroom made a large click when I shut the door. Pretty soon, everyone was awake. We started with a few nibbles for breakfast, but we thought that we would plan to do brunch out. Once showers were commenced it was past 11 am and soon after we finally exited our building onto the Rue de Lille and wandered back to the Boulevard Saint-Germain. My husband pointed out the Café de Flore, but the place was busy and we were not able to find a booth in the romantically famous cafe. We continued and found plenty of open chairs outside the Le Bouquet. The waiter kindly offered us menus for breakfast and lunch. We promptly ordered some coffee and tea and our elderly waiter returned inside to start our order not so promptly. It was lovely sitting outdoors and soaking in the chilly fall day and warm rays of reflected sunlight. My husband ordered an omelette with ham and I ordered the special vegetable soup. Unfortunately, I found my options somewhat limited with food in France. I double-checked with the waiter to make sure it was a broth soup and not a thickens soup (no flour please!). He responded that the soup was simply broth with a collection of vegetables. Perfect. We waited patiently for our food and watched those walking by. The easiness and calm of the restaurant was a pleasant start to our day, especially after the ups and downs of traveling.
Our food arrived and I seriously could not believe how delicious the humble soup tasted. The vegetables were chopped fine and blended together with ease without fully mashing into one another. The flavor was savory and delicious. I tried a little bite of my husband’s omelet and it had to be the best omelet I had ever tasted. The balance of seasoning and the individuality of each component of the dish was superb. We slowly nibbled away at our two dishes, desperately wanting more, but knew that we needed to give our son a chance at some open space. We paid our check and moseyed our way back to the Seine and crossed the Pont Royal Bridge to the space between the Louvre and the Jardin des Tuileries. We decided to follow the path to the Tuileries to enjoy the fountain and the autumn leaves that lined the garden walkway.
We had put our son down late because of our late start in the morning, which meant that we were not out the door again until after five in the afternoon. My husband wanted to revisit the Luxembourg Gardens and the visit the Pantheon, both of which I wanted to explore more than the last time we were in Paris. The gardens were just under 1.5km away; about a 20-minute trek on foot. We quickly walked southeastward as the sky started to lose its light. We arrived at Luxembourg Gardens right as a hoard of people were exiting and the guards were shutting the gates for the night. I was disappointed that we missed seeing the garden. In hindsight, we should have visited the Gardens after brunch. We decided to continue on the path to visit the Panthéon. The sky was becoming quite dark so I knew our time near the mausoleum would be short. Regardless of the brevity of our visit, my son loved it. He loved getting out of the stroller and being able to run around. The open square in from the Panthéon was perfect for a little kid to run. There was no fear of cars or of narrow passageways where he could be harmed or lost.
Dusk was creeping closer and our hunger was growing. Before we returned to our cozy quarters, my husband was determined that he would buy me some macarons. I was so excited about this little treat and then we found the shop, Gérard Mulot. The patissier was exquisite. There were so many chocolates, desserts and pastries, each one more beautiful and more mouth-watering than the last. I nearly cried out in excitement and awe. We ordered a selection of ten macarons (not nearly enough) and then waited patiently as our order was beautifully packaged. We walked back along the Saint-Germain to our apartment and then I began to prepare our dinner. Although we did enjoy our meal of pre-made risotto and vegetables as best as we could, I would have loved a bouillabaisse or even some ratatouille at that point. We decided the next night we would go out for dinner.