There will be rain after the noon hour, but in the morning we wake up to a pretty, rose tinted sky. One could sing a song about it!
We are in Paris. Staying in the lovely Hotel Baume, in a room with big windows looking out onto a quiet street. And the Theater Odeon.
Breakfast downstairs. Familiar baskets of breads and croissants for me, smoked salmon for the girl.
And then what?
Well, importantly, she races me six floors up to our room. This is a game she loves to play at the Baume: use the stairs no matter what. Well, I got mountain legs now! But so does she.
I made a list for our two days here. There are essentials and there are possibilities. Spread out over the Left Bank. How much will we accomplish? I cannot tell.
We both agree that we should start with the Luxembourg Gardens. Just to say hello. And to greet the distant Eiffel Tower.
I then steer her to the metro/train station at the Luxembourg gates. I am trying to figure out Paris's ever-changing Navigo travel card system. There has been a gradual shift toward using cards rather than individual tickets and you just cant keep up with it, or protect yourself by making advance purchases, because chances are it will all be different the next time you're here. This has happened to me far too often and I am determined to get the details straight, since I know that 2025 ushered in something new for travelers.
In the end, I sort of get it. It seems unnecessarily complicated and I way prefer systems in place in Chicago or London where you can load money onto cards and then just spend it down. (Or Poland -- where people my age travel for free!) We'll see if it all shifts once again before I am next here (in a couple of months!).
We are a short walk away from a bookstore called Shakespeare and Company (which happens to be very close to the Notre Dame...)
We go to the bookstore now.
It's a special place and it has a long history of supporting new and aspiring writers. Snowdrop is less intrigued by this, but she does like the Shakespearean emphasis (at least in the name) and she is delighted to find one of his plays published in a graphic novel, and another sold in its full version.
I'm interested in the other books (and there are many!), but in the end we cut our visit short. We're not in Paris long enough to blow time this way. We need to do some city walks!
We go back to the gardens. The girl insists on this and at first I'm puzzled because it is January and there's not much in bloom here now, nor is it warm enough to stroll leisurely.
I should have known: she so much wants to do their merry-go-round, with the stick that catches the ring.
And she wants so much to do the playground...
I shiver at this one -- she moves, I wait. It's not a great January grandmother hangout place. But, she just has to work through all the structures! Fair enough. She has her Paris faves. I'm accommodating.
From there, we go to the shopping area -- the one that yields the most clothing for my grandkids -- starting with a store that has all those cotton tops the kids love and the parents love as well.
(spring=soon)
Five kids, many tops, bags full.
Now it really is lunch time. Paris and lunch -- you have to play by the rules. But Snowdrop so wants to take a look at the department store toys and we are right there!
We look at toys.
And now we do hurry. We are close enough to Cafe Varenne -- my favorite lunch place in Paris -- but it is raining and the sidewalks are narrow and my bags are bulging and the umbrella sways a little this way and that way as I try to keep the two of us and all my bundles dry.
And when we arrive -- perfectly at 1, so proper, so French -- the place is bursting at the seams with diners, because of course everyone eats exactly now. So it's crowded. And the owners run this place so well that you never feel like it's going to be a long wait. Five minutes -- they tell us (and the next entrants and the ones after). And it really is five minutes.
Snowdrop is a bit overwhelmed by the tumult. By the proximity of the tables. By the tight squeeze for our shopping bags. But I let her get away with a lunch of French green beans (many green beans) and fries (many french fries) and she relaxes.
The couple to our side engage us. Because of my camera (he knows it and likes it) and because of my mixture of French (with the waiter) and American English (with the girl). The woman is herself American, but she is living in France now and dating this very French camera loving guy. After learning I travel here often, he asks me -- why dont you just buy an apartment here?
So funny. The short answer is that I love being with my family and Ed back home. There was a time when I thought having a tiny place here would be the epitome of luxury: a vacation pad in Paris! Something to save up for! A little studio on a quiet Left Bank street. Or just out of town.
I never did save up for it and I am so glad I fell short! Second homes, vacation flats, cottages by the lake, by the sea, in the mountains -- they tie you down and they take you away from those you love. And they require upkeep and commitment. What about any of this sounds good to you?
I smile, tell the French man that I love coming here, to his Paris, but I love my family and my guy even more.
Next stop for us? The candy store next door for their caramels and chocolates!
And now here's a problem: I'm loaded with bags. Books, clothes, candies. And we have tickets for the Musee d'Orsay for 3:30. You cant lug this stuff inside a museum. And it's raining hard.
We cab back to the hotel, I leave our stuff, and then we're out again, hurrying to make our entrance slot to the museum. (I asked her if maybe she'd like to skip the museum, but she is insistent. She really does like paintings and especially Impressionism and especially Monet.)
At this late hour, the museum is starting to empty out. There's no line to go in and there's plenty of space to move around our favorite canvases.
(Gaga! I stood on this bridge!)
Home again. Yes, it feels like home. Here's an example: yesterday, Snowdrop and I entered the Baume and she was in tears, realizing that she had left her favorite special cat decorated water bottle in the cab. She recovered, she apologized, but the desk staff took note. This afternoon, we find a big beautiful water bottle in the room, with dogs and cats and even a purple spout. That's how kind they are at Le Baume.
We eat dinner at Seulement Sea. I've written about it before: small, close by, and all about seafood. Snowdrop is thrilled -- all seafood? no meat? really??
For starters she wants oysters. Part of me thinks she's mixing them up with mussels, so I explain the difference. Still, she wants to try the briny salty oysters. And she loves them!
Cod with fries...
Chocolate mousse for dessert. Total happiness.
We leave to walk back to the Baume. It's still raining outside.
No matter. It's not a long walk and the rain will end tonight. And we're in step now. One umbrella, two of us, walking home to our warm room on the fifth floor of Le Baume.
with love...
