two days in Paris

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...

from Saint Martin de Belleville to Paris

And snow it did! All night long, well into the day. Clouds all around us blanketed the mountains, but still -- it's lovely! 

My daughter was already on her way home by the time Snowdrop and I got up. Breakfast -- our last one here, was different -- just the two of us.

But the girl loves the foods here so much and I settled in to my more gentle morning meal, so we got a good start to the day.

We have a ride to the train station at 11:30. I packed most of our stuff last night -- a delicate balance of putting at the bottom used clothing, keeping near the top Paris necessities. I needed to finish it up, but that took no time at all. Snowdrop was engrossed in a made up story on the computer and so I left her to it and headed out for a short, snowy walk down the hill.

I wanted to get that last view of a snow covered Alpine village -- it's so perfect right now, so dreamy and delicate, without a wind to mess with the canvas all around us. 

 

 

 

At the same time, I want to be mindful of keeping my shoes dry for the trip. So no hiking along forest trails! (Though I did look on with mild envy at this small group who headed out on snowshoes...)

I pop into the souvenir shop -- for a surprise little huskie stuffie for the girl, but really just to have a last glance at this shop, just because it's the only one in town and there's something special about there being just one, this one, with Madame attentively asking, pointing, helping with selections (also throwing in some earring backs for free, because Snowdrop lost hers and raided mine to make up for it!). 

(I love these old-styled cards -- I dont have any need for them, but still, they are as evocative as ours back home that depict New England winters -- the snowy ones I now only dream about back in Wisconsin.)

It's snowing again and for a moment I wish we would have one more day here, but of course, our wheels are spinning now away from the mountains. With my daughter already in Geneva and our own train waiting to take us from Chambery to Paris, we are no longer in a Savoie mindset. 

But I think about these five days and I try to pick them apart, in an attempt to figure out why we loved this place so much (an quite a bit more than Chamonix, or Morzine). Certainly the quietness of the village. The absence of skiers at every corner. The old Savoyard streets, the beautiful forest trails right out the door. The smaller chalet style hotel. 

 

 

 

The success Snowdrop had skiing (Matthieu sent us this photo and many clips of her barreling down the hill..)..

The trip here did have its challenging moments: the ride up to Saint Martin on that foggy evening was terrifying. And the air here is thin enough to make hiking even moderate trails a big challenge. But none of this detracted from our feelings about this place. Snowdrop is dying to come back! And indeed, as I return to the hotel to get us out of the room, she says -- can't I have one more walk? Maybe to the bakery with the lollipops and ice cream? That's a short walk and I want one last look at the village.

Snowdrop!! That should have happened earlier! We have a ride in 15 minutes! 

It wont take more than 15 minutes! 

It always takes longer than you think and especially when there is slushy snow on all the streets and sidewalks. Nevertheless, I can't say no. I want her to have a chance to say good bye, to feel the pleasure of that hilly walk one last time, so that she can take with her that same sweet love for her stay in Saint Martin de Belleville.

And then we're off to Chambery (1 hour and 15 minutes from here). We linger at the news stand for a few minutes (and of course I get sucked into picking up some chocolate covered marshmallow bears because Snowdrop firmly believes that these are the quintessential French candy) and then the train rolls in and we make our way to the track...

("dont pause to take a picture now!!")

 

And three hours later, after speeding north at 300 km/hr,  we are in Paris.

Paris. Each time I come here, I have a mindset, a focus. When I'm here with the grandkids, nearly everything I do here is with them in mind. This short stay, a January one, which can be very dicey and wet, is no different. 

We cab over to the Baume Hotel. My safe haven. A place that does not know how to disappoint! And in the one room, the same one each time, a room that always feels so much like home.

 

Yes, there's supposed to be rain tonight, and there'll be rain tomorrow. I went over museum choices with the girl -- she picked one, we'll go there when it rains. Most certainly we'll go to the park the next day. But honestly, we're here because Paris offers that needed balance to the trip. It can't just be about Saint Martin de Belleville. Much of France would often like to ignore Paris, but it needs it as much as my morning croissant needs its milky coffee. Perhaps then this is a reminder: we are in a different country and at its center, there is Paris to reckon with.

Tonight though we do very little "reckoning." It's rather late. She's tired. I let her stay with her tablet as I unpack. 

 Just before the dinner hour, I push for a short walk. Here's an easy one that always gets her excited -- to Muji -- a Japanese chain store that has the best supply of tiny little notebooks, coveted by little ones who like to draw/write while waiting for dinner.

And to a neighborhood pastry store to stack up on macarons -- a much better dessert idea than going for a restaurant sweet dish.

(walking our neighborhood's streets...)

Dinner tonight is at Agata -- my most recent favorite nearby pizza place. She devours the fried calamari...

And we both do great justice to our pizzas.

She is in a far better mood afterwards. 

I have grown to expect good moods from Snowdrop when we travel. She is always so enthusiastic and grateful that I forget that some things may be taxing for her. She lost her water bottle en route today and she was disproportionately devastated by it. Later, she told me that she was so mad at herself for being careless. And by the way, she tells me -- she misses our mountain days. I never assume that she needs to adjust to anything, because she always just goes along with the next adventure and the one that follows. This girl loves Paris with a passion and I have no doubt she'll transition quickly, but there is in Snowdrop this momentary pause, where she doesn't want to let go just yet.  One enthusiastic foot in Paris...

 

 

 

... the other? Still stuck in the snows of Saint Martin de Belleville.

With love...

Saint Martin de Belleville 5

Snow at night turns to rain after midnight. All day today, we are to have rain showers. By night, they will change to snow again. Heavy snow. Causing slowdowns for sure. Tomorrow. With even more snow. The day we are to leave. 

But anticipating weather in the mountains is a fool's errand. You just don't know how much, of what, when, and with what consequences. I wasn't surprised to see that snow last night, and I am certainly not surprised that it warmed up, and that some of the snow cover is diminished in the valley. Looking outside at our wake up time, I see this:

 

Who knows what the next 24 hours will bring.

This day is supposed to be slightly different. We did not plan on skiing (and that's a good thing, considering the possibility of heavy rains). We had only one activity and I scheduled it many months ago because it's otherwise impossible to get a slot for it: dog sledding. But can you even do this in the rain? And would you want to?

Those are the questions in my head as we go down to breakfast. 

 

 

 

One of us (me!) is super not hungry. And yet...

My daughter joins us, we linger. Snowdrop entertains us!

 

 

We make some changes to our plans - giving up on a dinner out tonight (eating in the hotel will keep us dry!), reviewing the morning possibilities. How about another try at the museum?

Snowdrop and I head out. Down the hill. Staying dry so far!

The museum is small of course. It traces village life from about 150 years ago to more recent times, when Saint Martin opened up just a few ski lifts and trails. We looked over the farming implements from those earlier days and watched a movie on hay gathering -- the old way.

 

Not much of it is new to a person coming from Wisconsin, where dairy farming was (and is) a way of life for so many. Still, it's interesting to track the transformations in the village. The attempts to rein in winter sports here now, so that Saint Martin never will become just a ski destination.

The museum visit doesn't take long, but then we don't have much time, because we want to eat lunch before the dog sledding expedition (should there even be a dog sledding expedition). We go up the hill again and then turn around, this time the three of us, heading back down to Le Montagnard -- the place we ate lunch yesterday. It's colder now and of course, there is the occasional drizzle.  It's definitely not an "eat outside" day!

In we go. We're at the point where we know what we want: lentils in Alpine pesto (for me), fried fish (for the girl), some cheesy-melty thing for my daughter.

 

And now we have to figure out if our dog sled adventure is going to go forward. Back up the hill to the hotel, a check of emails, messaging -- no mention of cancellations. And I have to say, the rain has really eased to a very light drizzle. If that. 

Off we go! 

You have to walk some twenty minutes to the meetup point. This is the same path that looked so pretty yesterday. The mixed weather did a number on the fresh snow cover!

Still, we persevere. And we are rewarded for it! The dogs arrive promptly at 2 and they are full of energy. Their trainer spent a few minutes explaining their work, their breed (there are huskies and he tells us that people really love these guys for their looks, but there are even better sled dogs than huskies -- his own teams have a mix of breeds that work well together). But don't pause for pictures now. These guys are really anxious to get going!

I get in one sled with Snowdrop, my daughter takes the second one.

And we're off!

If you are in the sled, you cant take great photos. But we do pause at the turn-around point, and this is a remarkable moment because the weather momentarily improves. No precipitation at all. Just the beautiful mountain scape before us. I hand over the camera to the dog trainer.

Wait -- you can see the girl in that? Let's do a close up:

The dogs are well trained, but they are antsy to go. We're off again!

And now there is time to say a big thanks -- to these remarkable animals who love nothing more than to run with a sled.

We walk back full of gratitude. The rains held off, the dogs were terrific, and as we approached our hotel, a winter rainbow pokes through for us.

And this really brings our stay at Saint Martin de Belleville to a close. The rains (soon to change into heavy snow) do come down this evening and that's just fine, as we have packing to do. My daughter will be returning home tomorrow, to the boys, to her work. Snowdrop and I will take the train to Paris, just for a couple of days there before heading home. 

One last meal together -- dinner, at the hotel, just like on our first night here!

 

And then we say good bye. Snowdrop's mom is leaving very early in the morning. Cross your fingers on that snowstorm, for her, and for us too -- for our own trip to the train station in Chambery. I'll surely let you know how that all turns out! For now, one last good night from Saint Martin de Belleville.

(Just me and the girl, forging ahead...)

 

with so much love...