🇫🇷 Paris is always a good idea 🥂
“Thanks” to Covid, my bestie and I had to cancel a September 2020 trip to Paris. She and I kicked off 2020 with “Oprah’s best year yet” Visions tour in Denver … the irony is real.
Delta’s generous rebooking policy extended my ticket through January, 2023. Nothing like waiting to the last minute!
In an effort to get my sadly-low-on-sticker-count passport broken in with at least one more stamp, I rebooked Paris and invited my Godmother along. Très bien 🇫🇷🥂
Said Godmother is my dad’s youngest sibling, my Auntie Marie. Since my dad passed in March, 2021, international travel has been outside my post-pandemic comfort zone. That said, the trip was my first opportunity to put action to my “no expectations (more fun)” 2023 mantra ✅ The “more fun” bit was a given, thanks to the company. Cheers’ing Dick Widger all over the city of Light? Best bonus ever.
Queue first time in a Delta One suite, Seattle to Paris, 10hours, 10 minutes.
Shout out to my amazing daughter who ordered me this necklace for Christmas, it has her name and her brother’s, and their respective birthstones. I sent her this grateful selfie from the upright Delta One position.
I know not of dry January 2023.
The flight was awesome. I slept, I watched The Fog of War, cute boys and champagne flashed across my brain, I consumed some champagne. C’était super.
I hustled through customs and practiced my French hailing a €58 cab to Place Vendôme, and even chit chatted a little, en français, with the diver. No expectations. Exceeded.
I love thé stretch from the Tuileries Gardens on Rue de Rivoli up Rue de Castiglioni, past the Place Vendôme, to Opéra Garnier. It feels so grande, but also like a small village with an emphasis on, and appreciation for, history, all at once. And I never walk by the Ritz without thinking of Princess Diana and that August night in 1997 when friends and I were glued to the television on Beacon Street, hoping the doctors would emerge with news of a princess on-the-mend.
I left Seattle Thursday afternoon and arrived back in Europe for the first tine since the pandemic, at about 8am. I took a rest in our room while I waited for Auntie Marie to arrive, then we went out in search of a cocktail.
I brought my grey Goyard to get fixed so we first stopped there, les ateliers depuis 1853, and we were floored by the snaking lines around the corner. Global recession, what?
Marie wanted to visit Hermès to check out the Apple Watch collab. I never realized all the horsey watch face options, and we toasted the purchase with some bubbles (I got the side eye when first simply ordered, “still water”), on the House.
We browsed Louis Vuitton (the Yayoi Kusama collab is in full effect all over the city), the Moncler store and Chanel, before dinner and more bubbles were had.
We had a delicious meal at a cafe I won’t recommend because Marie’s coat was stolen when we were having a night cap outside after dinner.
Saturday morning we got up and started off around the city. I began with a banana and Nutella crepe as we walked the gardens toward the Louve. We stopped and had our portrait sketched, €50 for us both, neither of which looked like either one of us!
I loved the Ferris wheel addition since the last time I was visiting Rive Droite, and Marie quickly reminded me, “Waterford has one too!” 🇮🇪
We walked and walked (I can’t ever get enough of Parisian architecture) and spent the most significant amount of time at Notre Dame, marveling at the rebuilding efforts taking place since that other night I was glued to the television for updates from Paris, this time from my kitchen in Magnolia, in April of 2019.
We continued on to ĂŽle Saint-Louis. We shopped the boutiques, tried on hats, I bought a little piece of art from an artist I admire, Olivier Anicet, and we had a lovely meal at a restaurant Marie and her husband, Val, would frequently visit each October when in Paris for the horse races, Aux Anysetiers Du Roy. Another cheers to Daddy, and Val!
Marie’s patience fuse for stupidity is even shorter than mine, as demonstrated in a cab back to Place Vendôme from the Île.
That night we explored the Christmas markets and bazaar. The screams from that crazy ride launching participants sky-high and swinging them upside down, never got old. Noooo thank you.
Sunday morning we walked to the Louve and picked up a “Toot” tour bus.
We toured all over the city, listening to a somewhat annoying Brit talk more about his girlfriend than he did the sites we were exploring.
We capped off our Sunday with dinner at a charming Spanish restaurant around the corner from the Westin. The burger was not to be missed and the eye Candy whimsical decor capped off an amazing weekend.
Oh! One last thing … there is nothing better than a French pharmacy. goop agrees. As does my style hero, whom I will shout-out simply as, “AD” ⛷️
I joked with friends upon my return that I didn’t have a meal without a glass of champagne in my hand. As it was, as it should have been! Grateful for a perfect trip celebrating people I love.
