Greetings from the TGV, where I’m chilling out in first class.
Train travel hack: sometimes first class is about five euros more than a regular ticket. Sometimes it’s twice as expensive. It’s well worth the extra five euros. It’s not really worth double, unless someone else is paying.
(Second class is already pretty comfortable!)
I took the train up to Paris on Friday to meet up with some friends.
(NB: if you find yourself traveling within reasonable distance of Lyon, please let me know. Because I will take the train to see you).
The bar car was heavily advertising their new croque monsieur (a classic French dish that’s basically a melted ham and cheese sandwich). It was… ok.
The ride itself is beautiful, with sweeping views of the French countryside. It being spring, the rapeseed is in full bloom. Picture fields of bright yellow flowers. I’d show you a picture, but going upwards of 200 km/h isn’t exactly conducive to decent photography. Rapeseed is used to make canola oil. Maybe if they used photos of the French countryside in their marketing materials, people would shut up about beef tallow.
Because it was just me (more about Kristian and Lilian’s travels another day), I decided to save a few bucks and stay in a hostel. Let me tell you, nothing will make you feel older than sleeping in the top bunk of a hostel when you’re old enough to be the mother of everyone else in your room. It was bare bones for sure… I had a bunk with a shelf and a little locker. The women’s room was down the hall. There was also a communal kitchen. But you know what else I had? A fifteen minute walk from the train station, a metro station across the street, and the Seine just a couple of blocks away. And all for 75 euros a night.
I had some time to kill before check-in, so I walked down to the river and sat under a tree. One of my sisters called me, so we had a lovely little chat while I watched birds and joggers. I took a quick walk as well, where I got to enjoy moseying along a street that the city of Paris has banned cars from in favor of pedestrians.
Later, I met up with my friends for a Thai food dinner and a boat tour. I highly recommend taking one of the boat tours, but be forewarned that an awful lot of the passengers seem to love screaming at the top of their lungs as they pass under bridges. And Paris has a lot of bridges. I think a steward must have said something, because they stopped (eventually). But it sure did give me a headache. If you’re sensitive to loud noises, bring earplugs.
Paris is beautiful at night. I don’t have any decent photos (I was in the middle of the boat), but just remember that it’s nickname is the city of lights and imagine accordingly.
On Saturday, we met up at the Petit Palais. As a solo traveler, I had a lot more free time in the morning. So, I chose to walk there along the Seine. It’s about an hour, with the last quarter of it on bumpy cobblestones. In hindsight, I probably should have saved some wear and tear on my feet (I walked over 21,000 steps yesterday). But, I got beautiful views of the city and a glimpse of marathon preparations. So, no complaints here.
Le Petit Palais was built for the universal exposition in 1900. Its an art museum now, with a large collection of sculptures, paintings, furniture and decorative objects. You have to pay for special exhibits, but general admission is free.
One of the coolest aspects of their collection is a series of plaster statue casts. Many of the actual statues don’t exist anymore, because they were melted down for their metal during WWII. Even with the extant pieces, you get a closer view of statues that are otherwise mounted high on pedestals. They also have an exhibit in the basement where you can see sketches and proofs of concepts for the murals and frescos that adorn official buildings around the city.
I think my favorite piece was this enormous modern painting by Chilean street artist, Inti. It was inspired by a painting (located in the same gallery) of the Virgin Mary among a group of angels. I found it quite moving.
We took the metro to Montmartre, where we took the funicular up the hill to see the basilica.
The area around the basilica was crowded. It’s got a great view of the city, but if you go there be prepared to share it with hundreds of other tourists, as well as street hawkers (and probably a few pickpockets). The hawkers put all of their wares on blankets, so they can quickly pull up the corners and flee if the gendarmes make an appearance. We got to watch them do their sprints while waiting in line for the basilica. It was honestly impressive! A few lucky tourists got some free souvenirs, because it’s not worth the vendor’s time to pick up anything that falls during their hasty retreat.
Of course, they were all back in place like nothing had happened about ten minutes later.
The inside of the basilica is pretty standard. One section has some really beautiful Mondrian-style stained glass windows (this article says that they’re probably replacements for originals that were installed during WWII). I guess they’re not quite consistent with the other stained glass windows, but I loved them. I’m a big fan of Art Nouveau, and I like that the juxtaposition between styles breaks things up a bit.
The church has gone fairly modern with digital signage and the option to pay for a novena with Apple Pay. I’m not Catholic (or particularly religious), but my late father-in-law was. Lilian always likes to light a candle for him, so I took advantage of that Apple Pay and lit a candle on her behalf.
Later, at the bottom of the hill, we had Lebanese ice cream at Bachir. It was a little on the cold side for ice cream, but it was well worth it! I had the achta, which has orange blossom flavoring and a firm texture. Don’t go to Bachir if you have a nut allergy, because most of the ice cream is literally dripping with pistachios. Bachir has been around since 1936, and their first store in France opened in 2017.
I said goodbye (sob!) to my friends and headed back towards my hostel on the metro. Instead of transferring, I somehow decided that it would be a good idea to get out and walk the rest of the way. I enjoyed the window shopping, but today my feet are well and truly furious with me!
I was telling my friends’ kiddo about how it’s a bit of a trope for someone in a movie or tv show to say “I can’t die! I’ve never been to Paris!” And now I can just… hop on a train and be there in a couple of hours. I’ll be back a couple more times in the next month (to see some more friends and to meet up with family). I don’t think I’d want to live in Paris full-time (it’s a little too busy and crowded), but I am unbelievably lucky that it’s so easy to visit.
