Paris, part trois

I made sure to turn off my alarm clock on this day, feeling sure I would still wake early as usual. But, oops, jet lag caught us! We were both dreamily asleep come 8:30 a.m., which was une situation d’urgence – an emergency! Why? Because we had to get to our culinary tour at 9:30. Poor us, oui?

Fortunately, we made it. We met our lovely and smart tour guide, in addition to some truly fantastic people (newlyweds from Atlanta, a gentlemen and his husband and their tagalong best girlfriend from Connecticut, and a husband and wife from Littleton, Colorado – of all places!) in the heart of the Marais. From here, we set off for four hours of nibbling and tasting through the streets of Paris. It was … well … just super great. I love food. I also love hearing stories about the little places and the families who own shops around the corner. I wish I had taken more notes at the time, but I did not. I just thoroughly enjoyed the strolling, the eating, and the conversation.

We started at Poilane, which made me joyful! It was on my list of hopeful places to visit, and we began here, nibbling croissant and sourdough. Then, we wound through the Marais stopping for chocolate and macarons, savory and sweet crepes, quiche and salad, cheese and sausages, brique de thon (yes, a brick of tuna), pastries, and wine. It was a true treat, and I was sad to see it end. My mom has now been on two food tours in Paris, and she said each was wonderful and different. We hugged our new friends and said our goodbyes before heading to our next stop in the Marais: the Picasso Museum.

I am not necessarily a Picasso fan, but I find his work fascinating, of course, so this museum was a must-visit. Unfortunately, it fell short for me. In my head, I envisioned a gallery of wild, bold colors, and walls of his work. Instead, I saw more of a live biography, a record of his life. Seems to me he was a bit of lady’s man, loved his (many) children, and hit a few streaks of good luck. I just wish I had seen more of his amazing paintings and sculptures. However, the museum itself was in a beautiful old building, tucked into the heart a quiet neighborhood. It was a beautiful space for budding artists, as well. The bottom floor was a dedicated workshop for locals. On a related note, I was having a conversation with my fifth grade students a couple of months ago about art, and one of my kids introduced me to a Picasso painting I had never before seen in my life called “First Steps.” (By the way, are kids not amazing? What a ten year old brain can hold and recall delights and astonishes me all the time.) I wanted so badly to see it in person, because it is truly sweet. But, it turns out, it hangs at the Yale University Art Gallery.

After saying au revoir to Picasso, we walked to the Christmas Market at the Hotel de’Ville. This was, by far, the most beautiful of the markets we saw. It was elegant but understated, had classical and festive music playing, and smelled like hot cocoa and mulled wine. We stopped to snap some photos and then took a stroll across le Petit Pont for a little shopping. We popped in and out of some stores, buying gifts at L’Occitane,* and then stopping into a cafe for a warm latte, a little reading, and a facetime call to the family.

*Make a note for next Christmas: Harper received the L’Occitane advent calendar this year and loved it. It was one of the best quality calendars I have seen. This would truly be a lovely gift for anyone in your life who appreciates nice bath items.

Warmed and ready, Mom and I continued to stroll the Left Bank and peeked through the flower market. Its winter look was quite charming. We walked with heavy hearts by the Notre Dame, grateful we had the opportunity to experience this grand place prior to this trip. Parisians have taken a great deal of pride in how they have gone about restorations. Lights continue to to shine all around, clearly exposing the wooden beams and arches that were singed and destroyed by the horrific fire. Walls have been hung with detailed information about how workers have progressed through restorations. A temporary construction site has been established on its grounds, where work seems to continue on a daily basis and well into the night. We wonder when we will be back inside again; we sure hope to be some day.

We wrapped up day three on the Ile Saint Louis with dinner at a sweet little corner cafe. Mom had foie gras, and I had soup and bread, bien sur.

Another day in the Paris book. The next one would be our last, and we spent it well. Part quatre to come.