leaving Paris

We are leaving Paris today. The good news is that our departure is not at the usual ungodly hour, such that we would have to be up at 5 and at the airport at 7, hungry and tired before the trip had even begun. Our flight to Detroit is to take off in the afternoon. That means I can let the girl sleep in. I can take extra care with packing us up. We can go down to our lovely breakfast downstairs. Croissants, baguette. Yogurts, juice. Cappuccino. And bacon for the little one!

 

 

Too, we have time for one last Parisian walk. I give her some choices. She opts for the river. Perfect! We walk the blocks leading up to the Seine...

 

 

 

 

 

 

And cross at the lovely pedestrian bridge...

 

 

 

... which offers great views to the east (above) and to the west (below).

 

 

 

We cut through the Louvre courtyard and talk about what's inside, what art we will someday investigate. And of course we admire the pyramid.

 

 

 Paris will begin warming up this afternoon, but right now, in the morning hours, it's still pretty cold, so Snowdrop opts to return rather than continue. I have to agree. We will have walked a good bit. We are satiated with Paris.

Or are we? The girl tells me she is happy to see her fam again but she is super sad at having this trip behind her. And she hates leaving Paris. And I have to wonder -- what is it about this city that draws her in? I get why I like being here, but Snowdrop is just a kid. Why does she love it so much? I have the presence of mind not to ask. Sometimes feelings are best left undefined. Without explanation. Without bursting the bubble with some platitude and speculation.

 

 

 

We choose a different set of blocks for our walk back. There's street art here. Lovely! 

 

 

 

 

 

And now we are back in our hotel and by noon we make our way downstairs, say goodbye to the fabulous Hotel Baume staff and catch our cab ride to the airport.

My last photo from Paris? A selfie from our walk across the Seine.

 

 

The trip back is not difficult. Sure, there was the matter of the delayed flight, the broken chair, the late return, the looooong wait at passport control. None of it matters. We had a beautiful set of days. The girl is happy. I am happy.

Hi Ed.... Did you miss me? 

Goodnight to all. We are home.

Paris

Our last full day in France. Between the bad weather, a federal holiday and several staff service days, Snowdrop's school has had more closures this past week than open days. In effect she'll have skipped no more than two and a half days of classes Still, it's time to go back.

But not today. 

The weather is still unusually cold for Paris, but just so average for us Wisconsin types. Sunny and just below freezing all day long. We have plans for the day! But first, a race as to who gets down faster -- the elevator girl or the stair-using grandma. (Typically she wins. I mean, come on, we're on the American 6th floor! But today we tied.)

And breakfast.

And now it's time to catch the bus to the far western edge of the city. I almost never use the buses in Paris. My habit is to walk, and if I'm in a hurry I'll catch the metro. But the girl voted for the bus and frankly, it's the easiest way to get to the Marmottan Museum.

And it's a delightful ride. On a winter weekend, it's easy to nab a seat and simply enjoy the views along the way.

I'd taken Snowdrop to this museum when she was very young and I am sure she remembers none of it. But she knows Monet and the Marmottan is perhaps the best single compilation of Monet paintings in any one place. Were it not so far, I'd probably go there more often. But then, so would the rest of humanity. Its distance is what helps to keep things tame.

Why return to view paintings that you've seen countless times? What new things are you learning? Apart from allowing the little girl to get comfortable with great art, is there a reason to come back at all to canvases that you already memorized?

The answer is so simple! Of course there is! Great art makes you feel both reverent and content. (It can agitate as well, but I tend to return to places where the mood is of tranquility and incredible beauty. At the Marmottan, at the Orangerie, at d'Orsay -- it's all there for you to take in. Not unlike a walk in a forest, or a blooming garden -- it expands your senses and gives them a real workout! What's there not to love?)

I was going to be more leisurely on our trek back from the museum. Perhaps walk a little more. Maybe pause alomg the way. But "just below freezing" can still feel pretty nippy. And the girl has expressed a real interest in returning to Les Editeurs for lunch. So we catch the 63 bus again and head back to our neighborhood.

 

 

 

The ride is about a half hour and on this return journey an older woman is clearly listening to our conversation. About monsters and why they irrationally can freak a kid out, even when said kid knows there aren't any, and certainly not in your bedroom, or in her closet. The fellow passenger confirms: she too worried about monsters and indeed still takes another look in the back seat of her car to make sure none are lurking (not sure this was reassuring to the girl, but the fellow rider was so hungry to join in and chat with us that we let her continue).

Turns out the chatty woman is a professor of computer science in Brazil. She has been coming to Paris every year for several decades. A month each time. In their summer and thus Europe's winter. Is she lonely? She stays with us for the ride and I dare say, she may have enjoyed an invitation to join us for lunch. But I know Snowdrop: she is protective of her private time, of our private time. Sparrow would clamor to engage a stranger in friendly chatter. Snowdrop holds back.

Still, it is very lovely to have had this chance encounter. A person who comes into your life, only to exit it quickly again as the bus doors slam shut behind us. What will she do in Paris this whole month? Who will be her friend here? Or, like me, will she walk the streets on her own, enjoying the quiet of her own company?

At Les Editeurs Snowdrop orders exactly the same thing she ordered for dinner when we first arrived. Beans. Scallops and fries. French food can be intimidating. In these three dishes she finds comfort.

A sidestep to the pastry store (we'll eat our loot at the hotel,) and then to the neighborhood store where an older woman sells, well, small inconsequentials. Jewelry that's not too pricey, knick-knacks. She is extraordinarily chatty and always greets me warmly. Most of my adornments, such as they are, come from this small store. Today she wants to gift me a bracelet. It's simple, and she knows what will happen to it. You're going to give it to your granddaughter and I want you to have it! I guess I'll have to give you two bracelets...

And now we are at Le Baume, chomping on our sweets.

At 3, we go to the Luxembourg Gardens.

 

 

Snowdrop really wants to go to the playground in the park. Indeed, she has been wanting to do this since we got here. It always closes just before we get there. Not today. She zips, she climbs, she slides. I watch, holding my breath because when she misses a rung and comes to the ground, she insists on starting again until she gets it exactly right. Waiting for her to experience a success can chill a stationary non-climbing, bouncing or zipping grandma.

Age. It's your friend on a playground. Until it isn't anymore!

(Yes, you can go on the merry-go-round again!)

(yes, you can have some warm cotton candy...)

(Snowdrop: this has been a perfect day!)

Dinner? At the last minute I changed directions. Rather than going back to an old reliable place with very delicious French cooking, I booked a table at an Italian eatery by the Pantheon. A Bracetto. I'd never tried it, but I want to give Snowdrop this safe eating haven for her last dinner in France. Pizza, no effort required! And reputably great pizza. 

A short walk from out hotel and we're there. On the upside, it really did have great pizza. The seating though was tricky. We'd booked, but we got perhaps the worst table in the place. Right next to some guys who were hanging out on one side, and on the other side -- where all the traffic passed through. Snowdrop was disheartened so I insisted on a change and eventually they complied, putting us at the "only available" space up by the window, on high chairs. Good but not great. Still, the pizza was superb and it was in the end the cheapest meal of the trip: two pizzas, one drink, $35 total. Boom! Good to go!

(walk back to the hotel)

And there you have it: a winter escape. From one super cold state to a somewhat cold country. Tomorrow we return home. I hear Wisconsin will be warming up this week. So will Paris. It's been an interesting winter thus far!

with so much love...

Paris

Your day can be full yet leisurely. It can wear you out and still be without stress. For me, Paris offers exactly that: a richness without the pressure to accomplish the impossible. Snowdrop and I did a lot, though only one thing could count as being rather touristy (I'll let you guess which one checks that box!). And yet, we weren't taxed or hurried and many of our best moments developed organically. They got tossed our way. We did not go to great trouble to find them.

And the day did not start early. Unbeknownst to me, the girl stayed up late reading. I had absolutely zonked out by 9:30. She promised she was almost ready to sleep. An hour later I opened my eyes to see her still reading. Well now, she is only 9. 10:30 is not a good bedtime for her! To compensate, I let her sleep in.

Breakfast, downstairs, with French usuals -- croissants, yogurts, fruits. For her -- added bacon!

Snowdrop has her ideas of a perfect Parisian day, but I have to say, most are memories snitched from warmer visits. She'd never been in Paris on the coldest of cold days. 

 

 

 

There are limits to what you want to do when there are patches of ice and snow still on the ground. Still, high on her list is a trip to the Eiffel Tower and hey, wouldn't it be cool to have a picnic there? Okay....

We set out.

I take the route that has us pass this beautiful bookstore. I nearly always come here just to admire the books. Kids books, adult ones too. It all takes me back to the days when bookstores were such a huge part of my life. Perhaps I dont read less or more than I did then, but I certainly loved those years where you picked up and admired mountains of books that you did not necessarily buy or read. You sampled and eventually you settled on the best, the most likely to grab you once you got home. Snowdrop's reaction to this place? Too bad they all have to be in French! 

The store does have some good gift items to take back home. Somehow I manage to fill this bag...

 

(We talk about the way people dress here. Like, for example, this rather casual person, whose shoes alone put her in another league. Me, I wear the same old Duckfeet shoes when I travel. It never varies because when I try something new I regret it.)

We stop at the Bon Marche food halls. To admire. To pick up some fruits and a baguette.

And now we are where she wants to be!

The "picnic by the Eiffel Tower" idea would have been sensible if she'd stick with the bench. But to her it means sitting right down on the (wet cold) grass. Fine, you do that, Snowdrop. 

But I'll just stay in my sunny spot, standing up.

(On our walk back...)

We make a few stops as we retrace our steps, including at a souvenir store, where they happen to be selling Paris 2024 Olympic t-shirts. You will not believe the price of a kid's short sleep cotton t. You will not! After my expressed shock and horror, I got it reduced to 45 Euro (which is close to $50). The clerk kept saying -- I can't help it! This is the official one! This is what they are selling for!

Ah, the Olympics! I have to wonder how many Parisians are still excited about the coming of the games to their city this summer.! My hotel manager, a person whom I respect and admire tremendously, told me that the city will be transformed -- many of the streets closed off to traffic. You and I may find that to be cool, but she tells me she wont be allowed to drive to work. Velo or walk! I suspect everything will be harder for those who live and work here.

 

We continue. Past the Rue Cler market...

 

 

 

Another we make another stop: at Bon Ton, a high end kids clothes/toy store. She loves it of course, but she knows to restrain herself with me at her side. Still, she convinces me that these greatly reduced muffs are what she has been longing for forever!

And now we are at the Cafe Varenne, which is exactly where I want to be at lunchtime. Typically Snowdrop gets her favorite here -- pasta with parmesan cheese. But it just so happens that they had mac and cheese on the menu and the obliging waiter brought her that instead, thinking surely she'd prefer that to plain noodles. It was fine, but I'm sure I liked my meal of lentils and an egg more than she liked her mac and cheese (which in France comes with... well, different cheese).

One more stop: the chocolate shop across the street from Varenne!

At "home," it is so tempting to stay cozy in our beloved hotel room. And we do. For a while. I, for one, have a very important call to attend to -- my younger daughter has a birthday today! As tradition would have it these years, I'm not there for it. Proper celebrations will have to be taken up later in the month. In the meantime, I'm with her totally in spirit! Happy happy birthday, little one!

After a brief rest and warmup at the hotel, Snowdrop and I set out for the park. 

The girl very much wants to play in the large playground of the Luxembourg Gardens, but by the time we get there, it's closed. She settles for the merry-go-round. An old fashioned one where the horses dont bounce around, but instead a man stands and you collect his rings from the side. She collected twelve of them. Does it mean anything at all? Nope.

(Park is closing in 5 minutes!)

In the evening we go to Brasserie des Pres. I like the vibe there, I like the food. Much like Les Editeurs, it doesn't reach for great heights, but it draws a huge crowd of mostly locals, mostly my kids' generation. Will Snowdrop take to it? This is too unpredictable for me to worry about. At worst, she'll eat fries!

She ate the fries (and to her credit, the chicken wings that came as an appetizer).

Tomorrow, we attend to the two remaining items on Snowdrop's list. Tonight? I'm keeping an eye out on the girl's goodnight time! 

with love...

leaving Chamonix... to Paris

Leaving is not easy. The destination before you can be exciting, much anticipated, beloved, but first you have to leave. Home maybe. Or another spot which, chances are, was also lovely, enjoyable, stellar even. I used to move around a lot when away from home. See this place, go to that one, escape for a while to another. These days, I'm slower to leave, more deliberate and very very careful. Especially when traveling with Snowdrop. She's great on the road, but she is a child. Freshly nine. She can be tough on food, jumping from low appetite (just when we are at a place where she can eat) to high appetite (just when we are away from eating options). Too, she keeps herself busy, but lately, she depends a lot on her tablet. If there's reliable internet, she is in her own story bubble. If it's spotty, well, the trip then feels that much longer, for her and for me. Finally, there is the matter of luggage. We travel light -- we have to. I'm responsible for transporting us, packs, bags and all. Snowdrop is reliable with attending to her own stuff but at other times she needs help.

 

We are leaving Chamonix today after breakfast. My daughter (Snowdrop's mom) has already left. She's returning home, we're going to finish the week in Paris. By train, it's about 3.5 hours from Geneva. So, first a glance outside, at the wet, fogged in mountains...

... then breakfast.

One more check of the room, and another, just to be sure, and yes, a third time as well, and finally we're off. Past waterfalls, past towns without snow, feeling lucky because we had it, and we had sunnier days, and we had the views. Of Mont Blanc. Just not today.

 

 

 

I have to wonder -- will I be back in Chamonix? Last year I faced the same question, the same dilemma. There is so much that's right for a visit here with Snowdrop! And yet, there are other places, other destinations. The girl told us that maybe someday she'd live in Chamonix (for one thing, she could then join all those who raise huskies here). That is her best rating of a trip: if it warrants her return, not just next year, but much later, when she is older and living and traveling on her own.

 

Back to Geneva we go, this time to the train station. We have a bit over a half hour before our train leaves and we wander over to Sprungli -- that Swiss chocolate shop that promises you perfect confections. A few tidbits for the road...

... and now they've posted the track, and we find our train and get on -- a double decker car and yes, I picked the upper level, but that means I have both our cases to carry up. And the tote bag with all our winter and ski stuff. Moving around in the winter poses its own challenges! And still, I find train travel to be so much easier, saner, gentler (to say nothing of the environmental issues) than flying or even driving. Yes, I'll lug those cases to our seats. And then I will sit down, take in the others around me, imagine their stories, their journeys, look out the window and admire all of it -- how it is that we all came to be here, zipping at 200 miles per hour to our next place in life. 

We arrive on time at Gare de Lyon, Paris.

 

 

We cab over to our hotel. Le Baume. I will never stay anywhere else, because Paris is no longer just a place to visit. It's a city that allows me to exhale and not worry about anything. And the hotel is my most perfect Parisian place for that. They do everything to support the idea that here, I need not fret about anything anymore. The room is lovely as always, the street is quiet. Thrilled to be here again! As is she:

(They always leave Snowdrop a book or two of crafts and she always loves them!)

We are lucky to have pretty good weather for our brief Parisian weekend. No rain, partly sunny skies. Back in Wisconsin, it was so cold that the heaters could not keep schools warm enough and they sent the kids home. Here, it's just a hair above freezing. They think it's positively Arctic! For us? A lovely winter day.

I coax Snowdrop out for a walk to the Luxembourg Gardens before they close up for the day. It's been a while since I've seen it with a crunchy smattering of snow.

 

 

 

Always beautiful, always giving me that broader horizon that is so often lost in crazy busy cities. Nearly empty today, and in that, too, lies its serenity.

 

 

 

 

 

Dinner at Les Editeurs, because it's around the corner and she and I will always find something to eat there that will be satisfactory to both. (We eat French green beans at the start, then she opts for scallops and French fires and I stick with the fish.)  It's an interesting restaurant, because no one can say that their kitchen is spectacular or out of this world. But it's solidly good! And that's why, when we sat down at my preferred table (reserved, way in advance) and I looked around me, I heard nothing but French. A packed room, full of Parisians. Because they dont seek out the spectacular. (They dont need to, they live here and can find it anytime.) They want what you and I want when we go to our local eateries back home: solid, good food, good atmosphere, camaraderie.

 

(Snowdrop gets really into sketching out a graphic story)

(she does think their fries are under-salted!)

(crowds)

Tomorrow we will engage with Paris. Tonight? I close my eyes and think back... And exhale...

with love...