Paris: Two Days & Three Nights of Endless Culture, Gastronomy, Fashion & Strolling
Oh my God, Paris, why?! Why did you have to sink your hooks into me and force me to love you forever? Goddamn, you're good. Too good.
When Vanessa texted me on a rainy Sunday in early November and said her friend Katie was going to be in Paris next week and would I ever steal away and meet them there for 2 days and 3 nights of childless shopping, museums, wine and delicious food I booked my ticket before she did.
Here we are 3 seconds after our reunion at the Arrivals gate. She walked out of the gate with both arms up in the air, guns a blazing. Our joyous squeals and laughter rankled some of the French bystanders. We had to get serious for the picture.
This is our adorable hotel: Hotel Henriette. The hotel, like everything in Paris, was basically perfection. Incredible attention to details at every turn. I think I whispered "it's so cute" 79043 times within my first 3 hours.
Our first night, we walked up the famous Moufftard street, just a few blocks away from the hotel. More shops, restaurants, bars, etc. We ended up at a darkly lit, lively spot. When choosing our dinner spot, my only requirement was there was no iberico jamon, as I'd had my fill in Spain. Love Spanish food, but I needed a change. The waiter came over and and announced in French, "it's tapas-syle". Can't get away from my adopted country.
The centuries-old vineyard in front of the museum and the top of the Sacre-Coeur in the distance.
The second museum was the former home of Suzanne Valadon, a lesser know female artist and held originals of a bunch of the Chat Noire poster art that I've seen in one thousand college dorm rooms (it was good to find out the Le Chat Noire is the first known cabaret and a popular bohemian entertain venue in the late 1800s).
In between museums we walked 10 miles, ate an incredible lunch at a teeming spot called La Recyclerie and poked around the famed Paris Flea market for several hours. It's true that I muttered "too rich for my blood" every time I peeked under an item to see how much it cost. When I win $87 million dollars and need to furnish my French chateau, you know where to find me.
Sun came out for our walk from the flea to the Montmartre neighborhood.
Ok, post Sacre Coeur night-time church viewing, we walked down to another area and something took hold of us and we started shopping with a fierceness. Just shop after shop after shop. Vanessa and Katie scored some sweet vintage (Katie) and tee shirts (Vanessa just loves a boxy white tee) and then I spotted the brown leather boots in a window. I've been dreaming of these guys for a few months. We went in, I tried on, and after a 30 minute tutorial about how to take care of my new children, I walked out with them! Here's Vanessa dancing in a basement vintage shop and me and my leather boot tutor:
We were famished at this point. Learning about how to care for your boots takes a lot out of a gal. We waited in a long line and thank god we did for an unforgettable meal at Bouillon, a new take on the old Parisian tradition of simple & classic French dishes in a food hall setting. This was hands down my favorite meal. Cozy, delicious and my own bottle of wine for 3 euros. If you go to Paris and you are exhausted from so much culture and shopping, you must go here for your dinner!
We capped the night off at Yard Cave, a terribly named but sooooooo much fun wine bar. We had oysters, bopped to 90's hip hop, made friends with the bartender and felt completely devastated when they told us they had to close and kicked us to the curb at one in the morning.
The next morning we stuffed ourselves at the delightful breakfast buffet..soft boiled eggs, homemade jams, fresh yogurt, all kinds of breads and pastries, Vanessa's first kiwi (she liked it!) and butter for me (Spaniards don't do butter....just loads of olive oil)
More walking today and first two stops were yet another gobsmacking church and the Pantheon...the secular behemoth and final resting place of Voltaire, Hugo, Curie, Zola, etc. I shed a tear that there were only five women buried (and one of them, Sophie Berthelot because she died on the same day as her husb, a famous chemist) and even less people of color. Seventy-two dudes. Going to all those old museums and churches where all the art, literature, architecture is the work of men reminds me that mmmmmm, the patriarchy is just reallllllllly annoying. That's my big take-away, guys. You can talk to my agent regarding my speaking fees.
Just your normal, run of the mill church in Paris. This one is Saint-Étienne-du-Mont and it contains the shrine of St. Geneviève, the patron saint of Paris. She's got a wild story that involves a "prayer marathon" that was said to have saved Paris by diverting Attila's Huns away from the city in 451.
Pantheon times. (Can you spot the E.T. in the distance?)
Luxembourg Gardens stroll afterwards. It was chilly and the rain clouds were creeping up quickly, but that didn't stop the magic.
That horrible tall building in the background was my nemesis for the entire trip. How was this allowed to be built? Ugh. Gross. Get out and stop ruining my views of 19th century architecture.
Next stop was the Bon Marche, a fancy food emporium, designer shoe, clothing and home goods store ("too rich for my blood" uttered non-stop). I mainly ogled the gigantic rose bottles and aisles and aisles of dark chocolate bars.
Macaroons for days.
I considered buying this royal purple flying squirrel wide nit sweater to match Pat because HE HAS THE EXACT SAME ONE but it was 1300 euro.
Speaking of Pat, we sent this pic to him asking why he hadn't communicated with me in 48 hours. He responded on a group text 8 hours later including Jack with the single line "Does anyone know what day Meg is coming home?" And it was serious.
Walked across the Seine as the moon rose up and the air crisped. Stuck our heads in a couple shops and then to a kitchen shop where I swear I spotted the ghost of Anthony Bourdain. Classic and sturdy french cooking tools as far as the eye can see. Each item had a number stuck to it and you had to go find a dusty old ledger to look up the price. I bought two wooden spoons, a kitchen peeler and a butter knife. (And I shockingly got through security with them all!)
Even the dang subway seats are cool in Paris.
My treats for my sweets: dark chocolates, kitchen tools & high end probiotics for Patrick, salted caramels, sugared candies, striped shirts and a 1 euro beret for the boys.
And it was the best 1 euro I ever spent. (Don't tell him that's a dutch gouda)
Thank you Katie for inspiring us to come. Thank you Vanessa for creating an amazing itinerary and being my personal translator the entire time (I promise I will learn at least 4 phrases next time) Thank you both for being simultaneously relaxed and ready for anything.
Ahhh, Paris, you've got me good, girl. Thanks for being beautiful & bustling --it won't be twenty years again before I return, promise.
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