From London Fog to the City of Lights
Bonjour, mon ami! Thanks for your patience with my bout of legit writer’s block and welcome back for the second installment of my much-anticipated (at least by me!) recap of our European Adventure this summer.
After a delightful stay in London (see previous post), we headed to Saint Pancras Station and boarded the Eurostar, zipping through the Chunnel and the charming French countryside to arrive at the captivating yet bustling Gare du Nord in Paris. The train ride was a joy in and of itself, though I may have whispered more than once (possibly aloud, to my trio of unrelated seatmates), “Are we there yet?”
While I was taken by the grandeur of the 160-year-old station, my introduction to Paris wasn’t exactly storybook. Upon arrival, we witnessed a man clearly in distress, projecting his voice rather powerfully before being escorted away by security. Moments later, another individual – perhaps unhoused – emerged from the escalator and rifled through a nearby trash can. He found a discarded newspaper, which he then used in a way that brought a sobering pause to the moment. Just as it does back home, witnessing hardship up close sparked reflection and a renewed resolve to support organizations working on behalf of vulnerable populations. If you’re able, I encourage you to do the same.
With that moment behind us and Metro tickets in hand, we set out for our home away from home for the coming week: the boutique Hotel Belleval in the 8th Arrondissement, complete with picturesque wrought iron-ensconced balconies. Side note: the tiny elevators in 19th-century hotels don’t exactly play well with BIG suitcases. Secondary side note: my morning routine quickly adopted opening the window with the billowing drapes to let in some crisp fresh air and the sounds of a city awakening. Ahh…I could get used to a life of luxury. But back to our arrival…after a few comical attempts with the belligerent elevator, we navigated our way to the fifth floor, dropped our bags, and took a moment to freshen up.
Soon after, we made our way to the Trocadéro and there, across the shimmering Seine, I caught my first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. It was breathtaking. It was emotional. It was a whispered promise and a moment years in the making. The landmark I’d dreamed of for so long stood before me, more magnificent than I ever imagined.
J’adore, Paris!
Eating our way through the City of Lights (La Ville-Lumière)
Since the European dinner hour doesn’t even begin until after 8:30 or 9:00 pm, we often found ourselves dining well into the night. In early June, the soft summer sun didn’t fully set until after 10:00 pm so we were running on baguettes and espresso from sun-up to sundown. I share the following restaurant recommendations (and their general location) with the hope you’ll add them to your own “must-try” list. Let me know if you need me to tag along.
Le Champ de Mars (7th Arr.) With views of the sparkling Eiffel Tower, our first meal was spent dining al fresco and falling further in love with the city. That meal not only nourished our growling bellies, but, even more importantly, it fed our hearts and souls. The fromage, charcuterie, baguettes, and cocktails were out of this world. Honestly, baguettes and beurre (a full-blown food group, according to my brother) just hit differently when consumed at a Parisian sidewalk café. And, for no extra charge, we were treated to some serious eye candy as it became abundantly clear that this restaurant (and many others) exclusively hired handsome, flirtatious waiters. Countless chef’s kisses were given. Sometimes daily. (No regrets.)
Les Deux Magot (6th Arr.) The menu proudly reads “Café Littéaire,” and with good reason. This was a regular haunt of Hemingway, Beauvoir, Sartre, and Giraudoux. It was hard not to feel at least slightly more intellectual just being there. Hands down, one of the best Croque Monsieurs I’ve ever had. Enjoyed with an Aperol Spritz on the side. I know, I know – it’s an Italian bevy. Cut ya girl some slack. If it’s warmish outside, that’s what you’ll find in my hand. And if you’re into sweet endings, don’t pass up the hot chocolate topped with a sprinkle of course sea salt. It may have permanently redefined my understanding of sublime bliss. We needed that sugar rush before our marathon through the Louvre (more on that shortly).
BSG seen enjoying two of her faves…
Restaurants near the Belleval – Le Saint Augustin and La Pepinière (8th Arr.) One evening, we enjoyed a classic sidewalk dinner. Another night, we went for takeaway – but, lo, this wasn’t your average “fast food” run. While we waited, we sipped on unique and questionably strong cocktails before heading back to the hotel. Somewhere between “cheers” and “check, please,” we stumbled into what we dubbed the Pizza Party Dance Club – because why not? As it turns out, my brother was a huge hit with the young and lovely mademoiselles at said pizza discothèque. He’s now considering dual citizenship.
Les Deux Musees (7th Arr.) After a deep dive into the Musée d’Orsay, we were thrilled to discover this cozy gem just around the corner. Warm and welcoming staff, exceptional food, and a charming location. It easily checked all the boxes. Even our slightly art-overloaded brains could manage to order with confidence.
Café de Flore (6th Arr.) Charming, crowded, and buzzing with energy, this iconic spot was everything we’d hoped for. The waistcoated waiters barked orders like they were conducting a culinary orchestra, and somehow, that made the gazpacho even more delicious. Yes, we had gazpacho in Paris. And yes, we inhaled it and considered ordering a second serving.
Triadou Haussmann (8th Arr.) Our final dinner in Europe, and what a grand finale it was. Located on the lively corner of Boulevard Haussmann, Rue de Rome, and Rue de Provence. Complete with bright red awnings, this eatery served up some of the best French onion soup and steak frites we encountered. When I say they didn’t scrimp on the cheese and croutons, I’m not kidding around. That was a soup with architectural integrity.
Each of these establishments combined the authentic charm of a local brasserie with the laughter, music, and irresistible buzz of their enchanting neighborhoods. Side note: French sidewalk restaurants always face their chairs and tables out to the street. Why? But, of course, to allow the French to do what they do best. Gossip, drink, dine, smoke, and, of course, judge. Rinse and repeat. Well friends, that’s right up my alley! Except for the smoking part, of course. And yet another side note: Thanks to the ever-helpful (and slightly judgy) exercise apps on my phone and watch, I can report we logged more than 22,000 steps (about 8 – 10 miles) on multiple days. Not sure if that’s impressive or just plain nuts. Despite consuming copious amounts of cheese, bread, and butter, I returned home with no blisters and…miraculously…zero weight gain. It’s almost like walking for hours a day and dancing the night away at pizza clubs is good for you or something!
Famous sites, err…tourist traps we visited
Take the following reviews for what they’re worth. Your experiences may be completely different (and probably more glamorous), so I’ll look forward to reading all about it in your travel blog. I kid, I kid.
The Louvre. Celebrated as the largest museum in the world, clocking in at a staggering eight miles of exhibition space, this must be on your to-do list. At least once. I spent most of my time at the Louvre walking around with my mouth agape, and I’m pleased to report that I successfully elbowed my way into “the room”. You know the one. It’s filled with hundreds of other tourists clamoring to get a glimpse of the legendary yet surprisingly small Mona Lisa, whose coy smile could rival that of a cat that’s just knocked something off your counter but refuses to accept responsibility. Other works we savored: Winged Victory, Liberty Leading the People, and the Venus de Milo – who totally nailed the “no arms, but still fabulous” look. Warning: In addition to being enormous, the museum is insanely crowded. At this point, I’m just happy to have checked it off my list. Will I return? Probably not. At least not until they figure out a way to institute some reasonable crowd control (maybe assign us all colored wristbands with time slots?). Wear comfy walking shoes, make a reservation, and eat a hearty meal before you go. You’re going to need all that energy for the battle of the elbows.
There she is in all her glory – the Mona Lisa.
Proof I got close enough to snap a decent pic and lived to tell the tale!
Musée d’Orsay. In contrast to The Louvre, I thoroughly enjoyed our morning at the Musée d’Orsay and would 10/10 recommend it. The place is practically bursting with masterpieces by some of my favorite artists: Degas, Gauguin, Monet, Renoir, Toulouse-Lautrec, Van Gogh, and of course, Whistler (and his well-known mother). While still crowded, it never felt like every person in Paris was trying to squeeze into the same room. At the same time. If you’re looking for a slightly more manageable experience and want to pretend to be cultured for a few hours, this is your destination. And hey, no one has to elbow their way to view the art, so gold stars for that.
Notre-Dame Cathedral. The restoration following the 2019 fire is nearly complete, and WOW, it’s magnificent. “Awe inspiring” doesn’t quite cut it. “Glorious,” “resplendent,” “breathtaking” – I’m running out of adjectives here, but you get the point. It’s just beautiful. Pro tip: If you want to avoid waiting in the massive line of tourists, try visiting during mass. Not only is it an incredible and moving experience, but the line is surprisingly shorter. (I’m not saying it’ll get you into heaven faster, but hey, it’s worth a shot.) After our impromptu mass, we strolled across a bridge over the Seine and were treated to the quintessential Parisian scene as we were serenaded by musicians with accordions, cellos, and violins.
No caption necessary.
Like all good tourists, we strolled the iconic Champs-Elysées (because well, you simply must). We took an afternoon cruise along the sparkling River Seine, where nothing says “Paris” quite like a boat ride on a river that’s been immortalized in art, literature, and Instagram posts. While there were no available tours of the Paris Opera House during our stay, just walking around the exterior was an experience. Stunning doesn’t even begin to cover it. The 2025 French Open was in full swing at Roland Garros. We were able to watch bits and pieces on big screens installed in and around area parks and public gatherings spaces. For those keeping score, American Coco Gauff won on the women’s side and Spain’s Carlos Alcaraz won the men’s title. Again. The Galeries Lafayette rooftop adorned with its iconic glass dome provided stunning views of the city, particularly of that famous tower I keep yammering on about. And, although rather windy (but not lonely) at the top, the views from the Arc de Triomphe were so worth it. If, by chance, you’re “not into” wind, maybe just enjoy the views from a café. You’ll get nearly the same effect without that wind-blown look.
Day trip to the Palace of Versailles. This is royal grandeur at its finest. The gold! Good heavens, the gold! I felt like we’d walked into an episode of Real Royal Housewives of Versailles. The crowd, though? My God, the crowds! (Claustrophobics take note.) And, of course, those mirrors! I found myself feeling sorry for the dear souls stuck with the daily Windex work. At the beginning of our visit, we toured the stunning gardens and hedges, and enchanting dancing fountains (set to familiar classical music emanating from hidden speakers). Once inside the colossal palace I found myself repeatedly peeking out those massive lead glass windows, longing to return to a wide, open space with fewer than 500 people all up in my business. Regardless of that, the history and stories of the monarchy and the utter opulence astound. Humor me, if you will, as I don my professor hat for a sec and share a bit of knowledge gleaned during the tour. Initially a hunting lodge built by Louis XIII in 1623, the palace and park were designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site in the late 1970s for its importance as the center of power, art, and science in France during the 17th and 18th centuries. It didn’t take long to see that good old Louis XIV (the Sun King), loved to dip everything in glittering baroque gold. Other residents over the years included Queen Marie Antoinette (until that pesky Revolution broke out) and some dude named Napoleon used it merely as a quaint summer home. You know, like many of us do. We enjoyed our day a great deal and had such fun watching tourists fumble with awkward selfies in the Hall of Mirrors. Fortunately, our lovely tour guide had our backs and snapped pics of every group, so we didn’t have to embarrass ourselves. Although I’m sure the real reason was to just keep the lines moving. Thanks for visiting, now move along. Don’t forget to stop at the gift shop on your way out!
Just another day strolling the grounds of the palace.
Fun Family Factoid
Before the trip, we discovered that one of our ancestors, Nicholas de Largilliére, was a renowned portrait artist during the Louis XIV era. Fancy, right? Unfortunately, the Louvre apparently didn’t get the memo and had the nerve not to showcase his masterpieces on the day of our visit. Quelle horreur! And so, the noble quest to spot dear Nicholas’s brushstrokes in the wild continues – armed only with curiosity, museum apps, and maybe a slightly inflated sense of artistic entitlement.
How very Parisian
I’m pleased to report that I got an authentic “tsk-tsk” from a deeply unimpressed local, which I think may have unlocked Level 2 Tourist status. But I redeemed myself moments later by making a chic French woman chuckle when I whispered “ooh la la” as we both witnessed two fashion-forward teens treating the sidewalk like Paris Fashion Week. I may not blend in, but I commit.
You surely know by now that I can and often do go on and on (and on). So, if you take but one thing from this lengthy post, I returned from our trip forever enchanted and utterly transformed. So how about some unsolicited advice from the Big Suitcase Girl? Travel. As much as you want. As often as you can. Ride a plane. Take a train. Sail aboard a ship. Go solo. Go with those you love. Join a travel group. Explore new places, try new foods, and meet new people with a different world view. Embrace the travel departure theory: travel isn’t just about distance, it’s about release. You let go of routines, expectations, and the version of yourself shaped by familiarity. Every journey is a reminder that growth begins when you step beyond what you’ve always known. The late Anthony Bourdain once said: “Travel is not reward for working, it’s education for living”. Bravo, sir.
The next and final post of our expedition will feature memories made and observations gathered from our overnight trip to Normandy and northwest France. Trust me, those two days deserve reverence and their own chapter in this never-ending tale.
Here’s hoping Big Suitcase Girl continues to offer insights, suggestions, highlights, and, at times, a smattering of lowlights, mixed with a bunch of levity around the big world of travel. Regardless of the size of suitcase you choose to bring, language you attempt to speak, or the country in which you land.
Until next time – merci and au revoir!
Big Suitcase Girl 
Leave a comment