Paris Vacation 2018, Part 6

Paris Vacation 2018, Part 6

Our last few days in Paris were deliberately slower paced. On Tuesday morning we chose to take the Metro (a 20 minute trip) to the Eiffel Tower rather than walking over an hour each way just to get there. It was simple enough to catch a train about two blocks up from our apartment that went directly over to the Ecole Militaire, and then to head up and find our bearings.

We decided to explore the Rue Cler, a very old open-air market, before making our way to the Champ du Mars. We either came on an off morning, however, or most of the vendors weren’t set up yet. We did find a patisserie that was open and doing business and bought a tarte aux pommes to split. There was a mother with two little boys ahead of us, and as they gathered their purchases to walk away the younger one scooped up our tart as well, apparently thinking it was part of their purchase. The mother was very apologetic. We told her that we understood.

We didn’t go into the main promenade under the Tower, since there was already a huge security line to cross into that section of the park. Instead, we found a shady bench and read for a few hours with a lovely view of the Eiffel Tower right in front of us. We were ready to walk again after a bit, and picked up some coffees on our way to the Place des L’Invalides. There was more reading and coffee sipping there, and then we ended up back in the Champ du Mars for a picnic that we assembled for ourselves—some baguette, sandwiches, and a little salad from an epicerie.

We took long naps that afternoon, and then had our “fancy” dinner out at the Café de Musees. It was just a few minutes from our apartment, so we finally justified bringing our dress clothes and nice shoes. We took our time with that meal, stretching it out all evening and eventually walking home in the dark, filled up with cocktails, poultry terrine, beef bourgingon, croquettes with hollandaise, duck, and desserts.

In retrospect, it shouldn’t have taken us almost a week to eat our first really nice meal out. If and when we go back, we’ll come better prepared to have several reliable reservations out and to eat more like that throughout the trip. With that said, we had wonderful meals that we prepared for ourselves, and came in way under budget in the process—but that isn’t exactly why you go on vacation.

We took the train again the following day up to the Opera and back towards the Galeries Lafayette. One of our guidebooks had advised us that Printemps was a department store similar to the Galeries that ordinary people might find a bit more accessibly priced. It was, in fact, compared to J.C. Penny. (This was not an accurate price point reference.)

We did, in Printemps, find the two things that we had specifically come to France to acquire—a genuine grown-up salt and pepper shaker set. I don’t know how we got fixated on the salt and pepper mills, but they were up in conversation long before we ever thought about going to France. We had some diner-esque glass ones that were perpetually clogged up that might have been a wedding present, but mostly just poured salt directly out of the bulk Wegman’s container and just cycled through the disposable plastic Aldi peppermills. How nice would it be, we reasoned, to find a salt and pepper mill set in France? Something lovely that we would use and be reminded of every day?

We settled on a mill set, and then did some other browsing at shoes, overcoats, some fancy raincoats that you can’t find in the States, and a set of lunchboxes that we ended up ordering once we got home. The highlight of the day for Julie, though, was going upstairs to the kitchen floor. There were rows of cookbooks, kitchen utensils, exotic chocolates and spices, and six or seven full-service eateries. After taking many photographs and skimming through some of the English-language reading material we had some lunch at the seafood eatery—white wine, octopus carpaccio, and a dory filet. 

(Don’t anthropomorphize that, for Owen’s sake.)

I picked out a new black tie from a men’s shop—something I could wear every weekend and be reminded of the trip. We walked all the way back to our apartment and took our usual siesta, and then capped off the evening with a walk down to the ice cream shop (Amorino) in lieu of a proper dinner. That night we sat on the balcony and worked through a bottle of wine reflecting on how different the pace of the week had been and how odd it was to move through the days so slowly and casually. We talked about all of the things we try to keep up with (exercise, homeschooling, keeping the house clean, seeing our families) in addition to all of the jobs we work. Vacation was ending too fast.

On Thursday, the last full day, the market was outside again, and we went out to do all of our souveniring in one go. It turned out to be easier than either of us had expected. We found crepes for ourselves again, and then talked through what we thought each family member would like and which colors would be better for one person than for another. We didn’t have room to bring back much, and we did bring was pretty modest, but it was fun thinking of everyone as we browsed.

We did one more falafel on Thursday afternoon, and finished up the last of the remaining souvenirs (read: The Lego Store) at Les Halles that evening. We did dishes for the final time, cleaned up our apartment as far as we could, and finished our last battle of wine.

The trip back home on Friday felt more adventurous than it needed to be. We were out the door early and onto the train that came just outside our apartment, and then onto the RER B to get us to Charles de Gaulle. Then, another train to get us into the Terminal one. Then a line to check our bags, then a line to scan our boarding passes, a line to do a passport check, and a line to get through security, and then additional security for me because I must look threatening. Despite planning several hours of margin into the time we thought we’d have, they were already boarding that plane when we got to our gate. So we stood in that line, then took a bus out to the jetway, and then were finally on a big 747.

The trip back was long, and we dozed and watched movies together and had another airline meal. (Not nearly as good as a fresh falafel wrap.) We were practically aching for our kids by the time we landed in Dulles, but there was another long line to catch the bus to the terminal, then a line for the train to the main terminal, and then another LOONG line for passport control, a search for baggage, a half-hour wait for the airport shuttle, and then a rush hour drive back up to Hanover.

And then we were back with our kids! James was immediately sick (he couldn’t eat the dinner that they were waiting to share with us), Owen was bouncy and excited, and Felix looked thoroughly unimpressed. (Initially.)

And that was our vacation!

There are a few other post facto details that need to come out in the telling. First, even though we didn’t say much about them in the telling of the story, it was Mom and Dad Davis that made everything possible. Every morning that we slept in or stayed out late or took a random mid-afternoon nap they were with the kids, either giving tractor rides or trying to come up with a meal that all three of them could eat, or just trying to keep Felix from pulling dirt out of the houseplants. Without them, there would have been no Paris apartment, no Seine cruise, no wine on the balcony, and no falafel. We cannot thank them enough.

When we started planning this trip in 2017 we drew up a “high guess” and a “low guess” budget for what we thought everything might cost. We ended up coming in a couple hundred dollars below the “low guess” budget somehow, and that money turned into a proper vacuum cleaner once we got back home. That makes us sound really lame, but it’s actually been one of the most exciting “changes” that have happened since we’ve been back. Our downstairs feels properly clean almost all the time now. 

And, judging by how much junk we sucked out of the carpet in the library, maybe it is properly clean for the first time since we moved in.

That was the first trip we’d taken together since our honeymoon in Tampa in August of 2007.

We won’t wait eleven more years to do it again.