I had a unique opportunity to travel to France recently to see my daughter get married. While my oldest daughter chose a backyard wedding (granted it was in the midst of Covid!):
…my youngest opted for a destination wedding. And while it was not a straightforward journey and required planes, trains and (electric) automobiles, the result and the memories were priceless.
I have an eclectic background which includes strong ties to Lithuania, and Russia on my father’s side, his family’s Goštautai roots having been traced back to the 14th century. But due to wars and circumstances, my father was born in the heart of Dordogne to immigrant parents; and my mother, who is French through and through, was born and raised in Marrakech, Morocco. Through weavings in the fabric of the universe, these two cherished people met, somehow, somewhere, and at the perfect time, and started a family and a life whose journey took us to Paris, Provence, and eventually America (and many states within). Anna’s wedding gave the entire US-based family the opportunity to be together again on the soil upon which we were born and raised.
We started our trip in Paris because my husband Steve had never been to France and I had so much to share with him. We landed at 6AM on Monday, and, because we were taking the TGV the next morning to Aix-en-Provence, I insisted on making the best of our first day in Paris to see as much as we could fit in, which meant: no nap! He was a trooper.
Of course, we had to start with the Champs Elysées and made our way up to the Arc de Triomphe. As a kid living in Paris, I never once went up the Arc, but I highly recommend it as it has really great views of the entire city. What I DON’T recommend is driving around L’Etoile at 9PM on a Friday evening (speaking from experience), or anytime really if you value your life and don’t want to be dust in the wind!
The iconic Tour Eiffel as seen from the Arc de Triomphe. When it was first finished in 1887 the color of the Tour was Venetian Red. It has also been painted yellow and burnt orange before it was decided in 1968 to paint it brown so that it would blend in with the cityscape. The tower is painted every seven years.
Keep in mind you’ll have to climb about 300 steps to get to the top of the Arc. You can stop and take pictures (or just pretend) if you need a break.
Our next stop was my old Parisian stomping ground, which was between Avenue de la Grande Armée and Avenue Foch: Rue LeSueur. This is where we lived right before we moved to the States. As a kid, I played, went to school, and went to the local bakery, all within a 5 minute walk. Down this street is also where I rode my first skateboard (very badly)!
We went into the familiar bakery and Steve’s dream came true when he was able to eat an entire French baguette in one sitting (okay, I helped a little bit). We also recharged with a delicious ham and cheese sandwich and cappuccino before continuing our trip down my memory lane. When they say that a French baguette can only be found in France, believe me, it’s true. Anything else is ersatz.
When Steve and I were walking around the old neighborhood, it so happened that the front door to the building where my school: Ecole Jeanne D’albret, was located at the time, was open; hence I was able to walk into the lobby where my grandmother often picked up my sister and I after school, and where I used to hide behind the elevator. Obviously, I snuck in and got a pic (I didn’t hide behind the elevator but I really wanted to!).
In typical Annabel fashion, one school year I waited patiently for about 2 hours on the bench of the second floor classrooms for classes to start, all the while, I was supposed to be on the fourth floor…. Perhaps more surprisingly, for those who know me now, my report card, which came every two weeks, and tortuously contained every single test grade, (very) often included comments such as : “Annabel a été très bavarde et doit faire plus attention à ses leçons.” I was probably “bavarde” during French class, where I often averaged 8/20, compared to my 19/20 average in Math.
After this delightful bit of luck, we continued down the Ave. de la Grande Armée then back down the Champs Elysées on our way to our Hotel Mathis, which was about a mile away. No naps allowed, but a short break and phone recharge before continuing our journey; we still had to go see the Eiffel Tower and do Montmartre, no dilly dallying!
On our ballade down the Champs Elysées, we didn’t see Emily who is supposedly in Paris, but we did see a McDo, and it was really Steve’s deepest desire to eat there but we had just had our fill with the entire french baguette and sandwich. Sadly (for Steve only I think), we never made it back to McDo.
Hotel Mathis where we stayed the first night is well located on Rue Ponthieu, and has old fashioned keys which I loved, as well as a tiny elevator which I always find charming, but I definitely would not recommend it based on its elevated price. There are better deals to be found in Paris. Nevertheless, the hotel had a nice view, a balcony which we used strictly for our photo op, and was within walking distance to almost everything I wanted to do on this first day of our vacation.
With renewed energy (I might be exaggerating), and recharged phones, we headed back out to see the Eiffel tower, then to have dinner in Montmartre. We walked to Champs the Mars and took a LOT of pictures of the Eiffel Tower. We didn’t make it to the Trocadero which I think has the better view, but that will be for next time.
Here’s a short vid of crazy people walking up and down the Eiffel Tower:
By the way, the song I used to cover up my incoherent commenting in the video, is my Mom’s. You can hear more of her songs here (bad quality because it’s just a recording of an old 45).
At this point, we were pretty tired, and our feet were protesting (which means we have a lot of training to do before we’re ready to tackle El Camino de Santiago). Walking to Montmartre would have taken more than an hour (probably closer to two given the fact we’d been walking all day with little to no sleep and we might have had to start crawling), so we took an Uber (too tired at this time to figure out the metro, but this was still on my list!!).
Steve found Montmartre to be a delight. I did as well, since this is where I got to eat my first croque-monsieur of the trip (out of, I’m not ashamed to admit, four), and it deserves its own spot in the photos because it was delicious.
Yes! Montmartre is definitely worth visiting! Unfortunately, the weather was grey when we were there so we didn’t get a great view, but even without that, the village is bursting with charm, art, good food and lest not forget Le Sacré-Cœur. The pictures I took definitely don’t do it justice. Every time I’ve been to Montmartre I’ve had precious little time to explore the entire area, so this is another piece of Paris we will have to return to and spend a good afternoon exploring.
