Bienvenue à Paris!
The Chunnel from London to France was something that I anticipated as being a daunting experience. I expected it would require me to stay calm by focusing outward instead of inward. What I mean by this is, that I didn’t necessarily love going underwater in a train, especially while not knowing how long we - my best friend, her fiancé, his mother, his friend, and myself - would be underwater. I was ultimately afraid that if I let myself think about it too much, I’d have a panic attack, something that was happening more frequently as our trip continued. I feared losing myself and ruining something that was supposed to be fun.
Thankfully, the experience wasn’t what I expected it to be at all. We went through our first tunnel almost immediately after we boarded the train departing from London. The windows went dark, but since I knew we hadn’t reached the English Channel yet I felt like I had nothing to worry about. Then, just like that, we were out of the tunnel and back into the London sunlight. This became a normal occurrence. We’d find ourselves in a tunnel for long and short periods and suddenly emerge back into sunlight minutes later. This happened so often that no one noticed when we went underwater and only realized that we made it across the Channel into France as we sipped on rosé and black tea.
Our first encounters with France were in the countryside. The land was lush and green with a scattering of trees in some places and open land in others. We could see cottages in the distance and what must have been farmlands. We talked about our travels; where we visited in London, and what we planned to do over the next four days in Paris.
As soon as we pulled into Gare du Nord, we were on a mission to find our driver and check into our hotel. Although we weren’t in a rush, we had dinner reservations that night, and the fiancé’s friend bought tickets to the Black Eyed Peas concert. Never having navigated Paris before, he wanted to make sure he gave himself enough time to get into the arena and get situated in his seat.
My first thoughts of Paris were of how breathtaking the city was. It was overwhelming to think about how mundane everything must be to those who have lived there their entire lives. While we did see some familiar components of life from back in the United States, like Popeyes and Five Guys (the shock value was high in the car), we also saw the unique Haussmannian architecture of the buildings lining the streets. There were aesthetically decorated cafés and restaurants overflowing with flowers and greenery. I didn’t immediately get hit with any semblance of culture shock, but I knew things must have been very different from the United States lifestyle.
Once we checked into our hotel and settled into our rooms, we set out for our dinner reservation. In the meantime, the fiancé’s friend started his journey to the Black Eyed Peas concert.
The night was beautiful, with the sun setting in faint pinks and yellows. On the ride to the restaurant, we caught our first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower peeking over the buildings as if it was giving us a little tease of its beauty in the developing spring sky. I couldn’t fully grasp the thought that people lived in this city every day, and got to live amongst this architecture without staring at everything for hours, in awe of the dazzling lights and the bright sunshine. W
We made reservations at Le Franklin Steakhouse. It was considered a local pub, not a steakhouse like we were familiar with in the United States. It was a small spot with greenery adorning flower pots on the patio, whereas inside, there was more of a minimalist modern vibe with a refreshing menu and atmosphere.
Though we had bad luck with charcuterie boards in London, we still couldn’t say no to the one on Le Franklin’s menu and ordered that for our appetizer. This board was a proper mix of charcuterie foods - cured meats such as pepperoni, salami, prosciutto, and ham mingled with soft and hard cheese, as well as sliced grape tomatoes and arugula salad as a palette cleanser. We paired this with an Aperol Spritz (for me), my best friend’s margarita, her fiancé’s Limoncello Spritz, and his mother’s signature glass of white wine (I stopped asking her for her specific picks).
There was, however, one addition to the charcuterie that I wasn’t expecting, and to say that I was quite surprised to find it amid our spread would have been an understatement. I dug into the plate almost immediately after the server placed it on the table. And at a speed that must have looked like I had never eaten before. My body was feral as I plucked a piece of what I thought was cheese off the plate.
But then, with the “cheese” in my mouth, I went silent.
And so did the table. Until.
“What’s wrong?” my best friend asked across from me.
I shook my head.
“What is it?”
The food stayed in my mouth for another ten seconds, just lying between my teeth and tongue. Then I started coughing and gagging. I tried to spit the food back out onto my napkin as discreetly as possible, but all I did was drop it unceremoniously down onto the table as I cried out “It’s butter!” But the word didn’t come out fully formed. It came out as a cry, maybe even a plea. It sounded like a European nightmare in a thick Boston accent. Looking around the table, I yelled out “It’s buttahh!”
Charcuterie at La Franklin Steakhouse ft. the butter (bottom center)
No one moved for several moments, as drinks and forks stayed suspended in the air. It wasn’t until the fiancé’s mother burst out laughing, patting me harshly on the back with each wheeze that left her lips, that everyone else disregarded me and dug back into the plate in front of them.
I, on the other hand, was not so easily amused. I was confused as to why any restaurant, French or not, would put slices of butter on a plate full of cheese– cheese that looked very similar to said butter. Not to mention that there wasn’t a slice of bread nor a cracker in sight. What was the butter for if not to amuse the fiancé’s mother while utterly humiliating me?
I ate in silence after that. I tried to keep a steady eye on my plate but I could feel the fiancé’s mother’s eyes on me to my right. They shined with devious mirth every time she looked at me.
We didn’t even talk when the entreés came out, too enamored with the taste and richness of our four cheese penne dishes even to express our delight out loud. But that look was still in the fiancé’s mother’s eyes, and I knew she enjoyed me eating that butter as a form of payback against the charcuterie horrors she experienced in London.
That night, I still tasted that sliver of butter in my mouth, even as I drifted off to sleep.
Day 1: April 21, 2024
I slept through the entire car ride to Versaille. From when the car door slammed shut, to when it was opened right back up again to let us out at our destination, I had slumbered lazily, wanting nothing more than the car's rhythm to keep up its solid movements so I could find some rest. I also was becoming more and more sluggish. I wasn’t sleeping through the night– not that I had in London– and I could feel myself getting sick as the days went on. My eyes were heavy, my stomach was always queasy, and my legs were shaking when I walked for extended amounts of time.
That didn’t stop my excitement upon our arrival at the Palace of Versailles, however. Admittedly, I only knew a couple of facts about Versailles before we arrived. The first was that the Palace was where they signed the First World War’s peace treaty, and the second, was that very notable French monarchs and royalty lived within these walls, like Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI.
Outside the Palace of Versailles
My curiosity, though, lay within what to expect behind the giant gold gates at the palace’s entrance. On the outside, it was all ornate architecture. Rich gold trimmings adorned the roof, and the palace itself was made of classic French architecture, Grand Trianon, and Roman architecture. While a majority of the building was designed with French architecture in mind, the columns and statues situated just behind the golden gates gave a more dominant feel to the lavish luxury awaiting just paces behind. It was made obvious that this palace belonged to kings.
Inside the palace, we set out on a tour to see a mix of paintings, sculptures, and other pristine artwork, such as the intricately painted ceilings of many of the rooms, and the fully furnished chambers of the palace’s former residents.
There was a crowd as we shuffled in for the tour. So as we took our wobbling baby steps throughout the palace, we were able to catch more than just a glimpse of the paintings adorning the walls. Many were of Versailles itself. There were maps of the property, lush renderings of the grounds, detailed with variations of the marble statues looking over the fountains, and set between the green hedges planted to dominate the garden. In some paintings, guests mingled in the courtyard, bright with laughter, their dresses and coattails flowing effortlessly behind them. They depicted luxury, happiness, and bright days when the palace was used for balls and entertainment. Other paintings ranged in varying degrees of chaos.
These paintings still had Versailles overlooking the strong marble statues and tall hedges but this time, destruction had been laid upon the courtyard. Statues were broken, trees were snapped in half, and fires and storms were raging- all depictions of politics, pillage, and war.
Hallway of Statues in Versailles
Then, of course, there were the statues themselves. The hallways were lined with them. The tour would lead down a bare, dimly lit room with nothing in it for decoration besides these chiseled faces and bodies staring back at you. My personal favorite was a lady standing above us on a platform, the walls around her decorated by pillars and carved crest pieces. At her feet, sat a lion, and in her hand was a single dagger. Her clothes were flowing behind her, and her face looked up towards the sky. I have searched and searched for a description of this woman and have come up with nothing. Perhaps, no description is needed, as her stature speaks for itself. Even nameless, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her.
Marble Statue of Woman at Versailles
Marie Antoinette’s bed-chamber was not only one of my favorite rooms but seemed to be a favorite among the crowds and tours as well. It was such a tight fit, that most of us in the room stood chest to back, walking on the tips of our toes to even catch a glimpse of the furniture tucked away on the other side of the room. See, unlike the other spacious rooms devoid of large furnishings, the bed-chamber had a narrow space left for sight-seeing on one side of the room, and the preserved chamber on the other. I did try my best to see the exhibit nonetheless.
The room consisted of a high-canopied bed, with gold highlighting much of the ceiling, the top of the canopy, and the railing separating the furniture from the guests. The wallpaper was made up almost wholly of flowers speckled in light pinks and greens, and it brought the room together so well that it looked almost as if the furniture could blend right in with the wall itself. The chairs and chest were both simple and yet designed specifically for that space with similar color patterns, and of course, more gold. It’s hard to say that there wasn’t much to it, because well, there was. Although a modern room would be filled with more furniture, this was very distinctly a bed-chamber made for royalty.
Sculptures Overlooking the Gardens at Versailles
Outside, the gardens were a mix of rolling hills, lined with statues, hedge mazes, ponds, and smaller gardens. It reminded me of a secret garden, almost faerie-like, mythological, and fantastical. I, of course, liked the swan pond that was, again, delegated to have little sculptures of gold scattered around the fountain. The Latona Fountain, as it was called, depicts the goddess Latona, and her children Artemis and Apollo. Surrounding them is a mix of people, and frogs, or perhaps, people turning into frogs.
After walking in the bitter cold for thirty minutes, my best friend was starving and was finding herself becoming very sick. Thankfully, there was a little café hidden in the gardens. It served hotdogs, pretzels, sandwiches, tea, coffee, and alcohol.
My stance was that I had no idea what I needed. I needed water to hydrate, that I knew. But then I needed caffeine to keep myself awake, so I knew tea was a good idea. But then, I thought perhaps I should order something to make my nerves go away, so it was a glass of rosé to the rescue as well. More importantly, I needed food. And I ordered, perhaps, the best meal that I had eaten on the entire trip in this little café in the middle of Versailles’ garden. This sandwich started with what I assumed was an everything bagel, and then had mozzarella, peppers, tomatoes, spinach, pesto, and cream cheese on it- all of which I love, and tasted immaculate. I could have eaten one hundred of those bagels and went back for more the next day. I still dream about it.
Our next stop after eating was returning to the city to see Notre Dame. It was supposed to be a particularly short trip. But we got side-tracked because I needed to use the bathroom, and the only one I could find was in a Five Guys tucked away in the corner of a shopping mall. The fiancé’s friend had to order a corona to use it. Looking back, I should have too.
The Cathedral of Notre Dame
The remains of the Cathedral of Notre Dame were both breathtaking and humbling. To see that the church still stood tall in all of its glory despite the destruction that had raked through it was gratifying. But to see it, or at least its roof, standing with the help of support beams while construction was underway still made my heart a little sad. After all, this was a historically beautiful and monumental church. To lose something like that to a fire was devastating.
But still, we took the chance to learn about the reconstruction efforts. The fire was a cause of destruction and heartbreak, and many challenges were faced within the rebuilding efforts. Covid was one, of course, and the death of Jean-Louis Georglin, the Cathedral’s project leader. It seemed that the cathedral had known a lot of loss. But that wasn’t to say that many people and the contributing countries alike were disheartened by the rebuilding process. In fact, it gave them just as much of a reason to keep going.
It was interesting, as well, to learn that sixteen statues that were placed at the base of the spire were taken out four days before the fire for restoration, allowing them to avoid destruction. This, I found chilling, but no less of a blessing as some historical aspects of the church were saved.
That night, we ate on a river cruise based on the Seine. The fiancé’s mother upgraded us to a long table in the front of the boat, with enough chairs and a couch for comfort. We were able to see everything as it came towards us: the Louvre, the Orsay Museum, the Institute of France, Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, and of course, many more historical and political buildings.
As we passed these landmarks, a boat singer set the mood, singing in both French and English. Then our four courses started coming, along with paired wines and champagne. The first course was an appetizer, individually picked. I went with a vegetable soup, which had a base of asparagus and other greens. It was quite savory and tasted far better than I expected. Again, I could have had ten of those and been happy. It’s the little things for me.
A View of the Eiffel Tower from the River Cruise
This was followed by a course of cheese boards (we couldn’t escape those), followed by the main course. There were two dishes of fish I could have picked from, a vegetarian dish, and veal. I went with the veal to try some meat while there, but I wish I had stuck with the vegetarian options. They seemed better suited for my stomach at the time. Finally, when approaching the Eiffel Tower, we were served a yellow cake, with whipped frosting strawberries and blueberries- a refreshing way to end the meal.
My best friend and I cried as we approached the Eiffel Tower. We by no means planned our trip around this structure, but it was by far the most anticipated monument of the entire trip. And we had a long trip so far. We cried, smiled, and laughed.
Later on, we visited the tower itself as it sparkled in the night sky.
Day 2: April 22, 2024
The Louvre was huge and full and magnificent and it would take me a very long time to talk about everything I saw in that museum. With that being said, I did have quite a few favorites.
I, of course, saw the Mona Lisa (1). I had already expected the exhibit to be crowded since the museum itself was bustling, so my expectations were well met. The painting itself was displayed on a small wall in the middle of the room, set behind glass and barriers so no one could get close enough to touch it. The Mona Lisa was as small as everyone said it was, but with that being said, I don’t think it took away from the elegance of the painting at all. The size of the artwork added to its intimacy and was displayed exactly as a lover would be; strictly for the eyes of one and not for everybody else.
Venus de Milo (2) was also on display at the Louvre. Popularly known as the statue of the woman without arms, it was said to depict the Goddess Aphrodite or even the sea Goddess Amphitrite. Though the statue still holds much speculation about who is carved into the white marble, the biggest question has constantly been asked: “What is she doing with her limbs?” There are many diagrams out there that assume how she had stood back in Greece, though I thought she was perfect just the way she was.
Then, there was the Winged Victory of Samothrace (3) standing alone, yet powerful on the second-level staircase of the Louvre. I didn’t know much about this sculpture when I saw it, I didn’t even know that the base was meant to be a boat that held Nike, the Greek Goddess of Victory. The wings and the wind flowing through the sheer gown on her body made it look as if she had braced herself against something she was determined not to lose against. To capture that moment in marble was astounding to me.
These were some of the more popular exhibits throughout the Louvre, and rightfully so. But there were other moments when I found myself appreciatively inspecting the art. There were the French Crown jewels displayed in the Galerie d’Apollon just under the painting, Apollo Slaying the Serpent Python.
The whole room was a feast for the eyes. Decorated from ceiling to floor in murals and portraits, and filled with jewels and hardware collected by kings and queens. The room, especially with its gold interior, reflected that of Versailles and was a direct portrayal of the royalty and nobility of France.
Speaking of nobility, I greatly enjoyed viewing the royal chess set named “Saint Louis” (4). Both the board and the pieces were made mainly of crystal. The design of soldiers encased around the perimeter of the board made the game look as dire as war. Some of the pieces were even missing, and if some of them were left to sit any differently on the board, it may have looked as if the game was still in play and preserved as such.
One last piece of the Louvre that I found breathtaking was the Cours Marly and Puget. Inside the Louvre, just under the base of the pyramids was a courtyard that held many sculptures made for outdoor gardens. Although this courtyard was just as lit up as a bright sunny day on the inside as it would be on the outside, the solar shading filters that they used in the ceiling itself preserved temperature to not allow any of these statues to decay.
The statues were spaciously placed, and in the light, were as detailed and divine as you could ever imagine seeing. I could have sat there for hours just taking in every fine line of a face or every crinkle in a dress. Some of the sculptures were quite grim with the depiction of boar hunting (5). There was also a large array of Marly horses throughout the exhibit. All of which were a feast for the eyes.
Shockingly enough, we had nothing planned after the Louvre.
My best friend and her fiancé went for a date night, while I used the free space in the itinerary to sleep. Well, for sleep… and I ordered McDonalds. I was aware that it was overwhelmingly “American” of me to order McDonalds while in a city filled with exquisite cuisine but I needed something familiar, and I needed to be able to hold something down. The fiancé’s best friend had agreed with me and followed suit.
But the fiancé’s mother had ventured out by herself for a burger at a local restaurant just around the corner from our hotel. I only mention this part because she had neglected to tell us that she was heading out for dinner, and instead of a burger from McDonalds, we may have joined her for something more substantial. Alas, we did not.
After that, I spent the better part of the night cleaning the hotel room. I packed and repacked my suitcase, laid out clothes for the next day, and the plane ride after that. I then tidied up my best friend’s corner of the room so she didn’t have to come back to a mess.
That was until the fiancé’s friend and I got the text that we had been waiting for.
Atop the Hotel Bowman, overlooking the sparkling Eiffel Tower in the penthouse suite, my best friend’s fiancé finally became her fiancé when he asked her to marry him.
Although we had been awaiting the cue to come over and celebrate with them, I had also been awaiting the much anticipated and well-promised hot tub. But unfortunately, it fell short. The weather outside was overwhelmingly cold, and the water, no matter how much we turned it up, wouldn’t get any hotter than a lukewarm bath. For a girl who was already suffering with anxious chills, and hadn’t worn a jacket throughout the majority of the England trip, the hot tub was no place to pretend to hide from the cold.
But the main reason for being there was fulfilled. There were tears. There were various calls to family members and friends on all sides. We congratulated them and celebrated with them until it was time to give them their space.
Fun fact: this proposal almost didn’t happen as planned. Back in London, the combination to the safe that the ring had been kept in was momentarily forgotten. I had dreams in which they had to blow open the safe to get the ring out, and then, not being able to hide the secret anymore, the fiancé would have to immediately get down on one knee and ask my best friend to marry him. It would have been like an action movie, and equally as memorable.
That night, I fell asleep to Twilight. The theme of the night was, apparently, romance.
Day 3: April 23, 2024
I pleasantly slept in the next morning, especially having gone to bed promptly the night before. I had the room to myself as my best friend and her fiancé spent the night at the penthouse.
We were supposed to go to the Catacombs that morning but my body was begging me not to get up. I was feeling sick both mentally and physically and knew that I had to sit this one out. I only felt a moment of regret. I had seen a lot in the past seven days, and although I knew this may have been my only chance to see the infamous Catacombs, I couldn’t bring myself to put that experience before my well-being. I needed to sleep.
I found out later- after informing the fiancé’s mother and friend that I wouldn’t be joining them on this excursion- that my best friend and her fiancé hadn’t gone either.
So as I finally adjusted to the day, just by laying in bed and catching up on some self-care, I heard her come back to the room. We had the wholesome experience of talking about her night out in the city and her engagement and we scrolled through Pinterest to “get a start” on wedding planning. It was a welcomed distraction, and it restored a bit of normalcy for both of us. We laughed and lay there, staring at the ceiling, just two girls in France, feeling sick, tired, and unlike anything that social media would have you believe of traveling. We let everything wash over us until it was time to get ready for our last night out in Paris.
For our last dinner in the city, we ate at La Tour d'Argent cocktail bar. It was safe to say that we had our fair share of fine dining experiences, and although La Tour d’Argent was a Michelin-starred restaurant, their bar offered a more comforting and laid-back atmosphere for sipping drinks and talking freely.
The cocktail bar was made up of two rooms. One room was used for the actual bartop. Across from it sat a row of low tables placed just against the wall of windows overlooking the city. Our room, however, was set in the lounge. It was furnished with two large brown couches in the center of the room, placed strategically around the warm fireplace. Surrounding the center were smaller pieces of furniture, from low tables to various kinds of chairs set to differentiate and pull together the polo club theme.
La Tour d’ Argent Cocktail Bar
In one corner, a man sat down with his book and cigar, along with a chilled glass of what must have been scotch. He waited with a present in the seat next to him. And although he seemed to be impatiently waiting at the time, he still seemed to fit right in with the atmosphere.
We sat beside the wall-lined bookshelves. The fiance’s mother had flipped through volumes of history on the cocktail bar, as well as books about horses and polo. There were decorations of ducks and horses all around us as if to reiterate that this was a sports club used to talk about such things as hunting. This was done all while sipping on an after-dinner cordial and digesting food over talk. Our plan was of a little different usage- mainly eating.
I, unfortunately, was losing my appetite more and more every day. What with hardly sleeping, and being sick, I knew I should eat, especially if I planned on having a drink, but couldn’t gobble down more than a few bites.
Dinner Cocktails
I settled on a cocktail of gin, mint, and a soda topper with dinner. Something to ease the nerves, perhaps. The ladies got cosmos, and the boys stuck with their usual old fashioneds. Dinner was a variety of duck, fish, and chicken on the table. I also distinctly remember that my best friend’s meal almost didn’t come out. It was a simple dining experience with a quiet background that inspired a close-knit discussion of our trip. It was a perfect way to ease into the night we had before us.
The Moulin Rouge was our last destination on the trip. Rightfully so, as it felt appropriate to end our visit to France with a little song, a little dance, and a little flair.
Upon entering, we dropped off our coats and were escorted to our seats immediately. We were placed just to the right of the stage, so close that my best friend’s fiancé and his friend could have taken a single step onto the stage and danced with the ensemble.
Although we didn’t have dinner at the show, dinner service was still going on when we got there. We purchased a bucket of champagne for the duration, so we didn’t feel completely left out. While we and the other guests ate and drank, two singers came up on stage as an opening act- a man and a woman who sang both French and English songs alike. The most notable of these songs was “Shallow” from A Star is Born. Perhaps my best friend and I sang a little too loud… and perhaps, we didn’t care.
The dance floor was also open to the audience. Couples masterfully danced to the music as if they’d been waiting to show off their skills at the Moulin Rouge for a while. A couple at the table next to us got up and danced beautifully. They weren’t just good at it, they looked like they enjoyed every moment of each other’s company with their evident flow, gleeful laughter, and soft footwork.
When they sat down, the fiancé’s mother asked them where they learned to dance like that.
“Well,” the man answered. “We are at the Moulin Rouge, so we figured we had to. It’s not talent. We just want to have fun.”
The fiancé’s mother was, of course, in love with this answer so she pursued the couple further. She found out that they were from Australia and had backpacked their way across France on bicycles for two months. That’s it. Bicycles.
If I had learned anything from this trip, it would be that if I wasn’t able to spend ten days in Europe without feeling out of place- that is, with full accommodations, uber XLs to travel in, top-notch dining experiences, and four familiar faces- then I wasn’t going to consider what it would have been like with nothing but a bike and a backpack for more than sixty days. It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy France or even London, it was that I learned how much of a homebody I was after this trip. I’ve always wanted to travel the world, but I realized that I always want to find myself back home when it’s over.
And yet, here was this couple, having spent months cycling the country, and they still had it in them to dance their hearts out at dinner. I, too, was in love with their answer.
Soon after our conversation with the Australian couple, the show started. When I say that we were close to the stage, I mean that the dancers came out just to our right, and nearly stepped on the boys with their heels, and definitely hit them with their feathers.
The performance was glorious. The dancers wore exquisite outfits of dazzling sequins, bright, colorful feathers, sparkling jewels, stylish dresses, faux fur lion heads, beaded dresses, and even clown make-up, all the way down to wigs and bright red noses.
The scenes and the music depicted anything from the circus with its lions, lion-tamers, and clowns, to pirates, Egyptians, and modern France. There were also strength performers sent out on three different occasions to break up the audience’s attention, and most likely to give the dancers a moment to catch their breath. One performer balanced himself on glass with multiple body parts, including his head, to the tune of El Tango de Roxanne (my best friend and I’s favorite song from the movie). Other performers carried out gymnastic tricks and contortions, all of them backflipping, cartwheeling, back bending, tumbling, and flying their way on stage and into the crowd. The music, of course, was all in French, and just being able to sit back and enjoy that atmosphere and art was a dream.
After the show, we waved goodbye to the famous windmill, knowing that in the morning, it was time to head back home.