Ma chérie
It's strange. Very often the thing I'm most looking forward to on a trip is not found at the tail end of said trip. In my recent trips abroad (excluding the Caribbean, which we travel to often), I've found that what I'm most excited about is frequently somewhere in the middle of the trip. The hot springs of San Carlos, Costa Rica; the Roman city of Bath, England; the Fushimi Inari shrine of Kyoto, Japan; all these were not cases of "save the best for last." However, on this trip we broke with custom. We left the best for last.
Steph had never been to France. And oddly, while I had been to France once before, I had only driven over the Pyrenees from the Basque region of Spain. It had been a trip to Spain my grandparents took me on years before, with a detour to Lourdes. My grandfather and I had taken a dip in the healing waters before sharing a tartare de bœuf in a restaurant that left quite an impression on me. Otherwise, however, I'd spent no time in France.
Steph and I are perpetually planning trips. While we are preparing for one trip, we are planning two trips ahead. So when we finally made it to Paris, a city we'd been wanting to travel to for the 23 years we've been together, well it was kind of amazing.
We started, as I'm sure many do, with the Eiffel Tower. We took the steps up to the observation deck at a slow, but steady pace. When we reached the observation deck it started had to rain, so the very top of the tower was closed. We decided to have some champaign and wait it out. But the rain only got worse, so we ran into Madame Brasserie, the restaurant that is located inside of the Eiffel Tower.
Our expectations were low. This must be a tourist trap, we thought. But we were very pleasantly surprised to find that both the food and the service were outstanding.
I wish our trip to the Eiffel Tower had been better planned with weather in mind. It was the only point during our time in Paris that it rained. Of course, there was no way to know that when we'd planned it. C'est la vie seems an apropos phrase. And that was indeed my approach to that experience. The view was no less majestic and I believe that starting this trip there was the right call. Whenever we return, Steph and I will bring the kids and have to do this again. But I definitely would prefer spending that time trying corner bistros, drinking coffees, visiting museums, or shopping.
When we left the Eiffel Tower we continued to Notre-Dame Cathedral. I was initially lukewarm on going to Notre-Dame. I grew up in a deeply religious home, but as Belloq says of himself and Indy in Raiders of the Lost Ark, I have "fallen from the purer faith." So the idea of visiting a church wasn't really one I was into. However, having an understanding of the historical importance of these churches, cathedrals, basilicas, I knew it would be a mistake to skip it. But I didn't expect to be so impressed by it.
Of all the cathedrals I've been to, and there have been a few, Notre-Dame is just about untouchable by any other...save for Santiago de Compostela. It's grandeur is inescapable. it sucks you into its gravity and pulls you into orbit. And as I swirled around Notre-Dame, my Catholic upbringing swelled to the surface.
Humankind's ability to create incredible expressions of love when it is inspired is a wonderful thing. How else can humanity show an appreciation of the power and grace of God if not by cathedrals like Notre-Dame. I may not be a believer anymore, but this sentiment has stayed with me and I was overwhelmed with emotion.
I was immediately reminded of my grandfather and grandmother. They had both visited Notre-Dame years ago. Each had separately spoken to me about how impactful an experience it was for them and had shown me pictures of themselves at the palatial church. They passed a few years ago, but the moment I stepped inside, I felt more connected to them than I had in a long time. It's a feeling I won't soon forget.
Streets of Paris
After a long time high up high in the Eiffel Tower and up in the heavens in Notre-Dame, we decided we wanted to stay a while on terra firma. So we hit the streets and looked for fun. This started with a trip to Monoprix for a hair iron as Steph's was left behind. Call me simple, but I love hitting up places like Monoprix. I feel like these sorts of everyday stores where locals tend to pop in for a quick and convenient purchase give a more honest glimpse into what life is like in the countries we travel to.
We found some macarons from a street vendor that put to shame any macaron from a fancy French joint back home. As we ate the macarons, we walked around looking for anything that struck our fancy.
We found a brasserie called Corner Saint-Germain which immediately called to me by way of its sea-foam green canopy, tables, and chairs. We ordered rosemary martinis and sipped to our hearts' content. It was the second restaurant we had visited that day, both of which we stumbled into haphazardly, and wouldn't you know it but we loved it as well. To accompany the drinks we ordered some grub...well, not quite grub. We got escargot a la bourguignonne and a tartare de bœuf, the first I'd had since my grandfather and I shared it years before.
On that point, I had not eaten red or white meat in a little over a 10 years. I'd stuck to that pescatarian diet strictly and never regretted the decision. That is until last November when I was boarding my return flight home from Japan. I'd been in Japan, in Kobe even, and not had the beef. My inner-Bourdain fan recoiled in disgust. I decided then that I'd make exceptions ONLY when traveling for the express purpose of experiencing the cultures and sampling the cuisines of the places I visit.
I can't say I enjoyed the texture of the tartare, having been so far removed from the last bit of meat I'd had (an In-N-Out Burger in Anaheim). However, it's taste was exquisite. And we capped the meal with a café au lait. Whenever possible, always a café au lait.
The next day saw us doing a lot of walking around. We walked through various galeries. There was a bit of window shopping, a bit of people watching, but mostly a great amount of taking in the city. Paris is a city that is easy to get lost in. Not in the geographical sense, rather metaphorically. As we wandered down the many streets and alleys we found ourselves saying aloud, "I could live here." It's a sentiment we don't express out loud often. Lots of places have qualities we love, but we still can't see ourselves living in. But then there's those places with a certain indefinable magic: Madrid, New York, and now Paris.
We briefly contemplated a move at the Jardin du Palais Royal, a gorgeous garden lined with symmetrical rows of chestnut trees, which we likewise stumbled upon almost by accident.
There seemed to be a pattern forming.
As fans of cinema and television, we immediately recognized this garden. I first came to know the Jardin du Palais Royal from the 1963 movie Charade. Cary Grant and Audrey Hepburn captivated me as they are chased and give chase through the streets of Paris, romance bubbling to the surface throughout.
I recognized it too from one of my not-so-guilty pleasure shows, Emily in Paris, as the garden where Emily and Mindy frequently find themselves spending quality time together. The show was actually filming its upcoming season while we were in Paris, but I unfortunately failed to find myself on set as an extra.
It's possible these connections are why we spent so much time resting there. But whatever the reason, we enjoyed our time.
We walked towards the Louvre, where we intended to spend most of the afternoon. Before exploring that wonderful museum of art, we again popped into a brasserie without any idea of what we could expect.
We found Le Cooperative Rivoli. As we'd done before, we moved past the seemingly touristy joints and kept walking further away from the Louvre until we felt we'd found some local haunts. There seemed to be many Parisians sitting at the tables, so we anchored ourselves there.
We sipped on chilled rosé, wanting to cool down in the Parisian summer heat, and again ordered escargot a la bourguignonne; they were the best we would have on this trip. I once again broke with my self-imposed dietary restrictions and we shared a French onion soup. It was divine.
Un dessert?
Oui.
Une crème brûlée?
Bien sûr!
A café au lait and a cigarette to cap the meal and off we went to the Louvre.
My cameras spent most of the time at the Louvre tucked away in my bag. I brought them out only occasionally. We spent most of the afternoon and early evening wandering the many rooms and soaking up as much of the art and history as we could.
I did not expect to have such an emotional reaction to the Mona Lisa. I'd heard from many people that the painting was underwhelming, disappointing even. Hogwash! It's the most famous painting in the world, arguably. But that wasn't why I was so moved.
As I've spent more and more time as a wedding photographer, portraiture figures into my life more prominently with every passing day. Seeing the most famous portrait in the world, painted by the most famous artist of all time, a masterpiece of portraiture...yeah, it did something to me. I stayed longer than I should have. It upset people, I'm sure. But I needed to take it in for as long as possible.
Capping it all off
That evening we'd planned something the two of us had been looking forward to for decades: a viewing of the cabaret at the Moulin Rouge. Steph, being a gigantic fan of Baz Luhrmann's 2001 Oscar winning feature, was virtually buzzing with anticipation.
When an idea is built up so much in our minds, it very often will not live up to the expectations we have created for ourselves. This can sometimes be devastating. I have to imagine this is how those that warned me in error of the Mona Lisa experience felt when they saw the painting. But the Moulin Rouge was not like that. Not at all.
The cabaret was a nearly two hour long spectacle, a triumph of the stage. From production design to choreography, stunts to singing, every moment spent in that theater was offensively French, absurdly exciting, and I cannot wait to see it again.
My friends love to poke fun at me for always saying the last live show I've seen is my favorite. While I may leave a production proclaiming it one of the best, the truth of the matter is that I often default to one live performance as my all-time personal favorite, Rammstein's first show in Florida back in 2012. I don't think the Moulin Rouge's Féerie quite reaches the heights of Rammstein's performance, at least not for me personally, but it comes damn close! All things considered, I believe this was the most momentous event of a trip filled with momentous events.
We turned in the moment we got back to our hotel. We were bushed from an incredible day exploring Paris, and still had one more day ahead of us before our return home.
We started our last day in Paris early and headed straight for Monmartre. We had either walked or driven around most of the city. But we hadn't seen the famous Monmartre. On the day we arrived, however, the Tour de France was holding its finale there. So we decided to hold off until this final day.
The hike up to the Basilica of the Sacred Heart was not as difficult as some had made it out to be. It certainly had nothing on the Eiffel Tower. And once we got to the top of the steep hill I immediately understood why this is a must. The view of Paris from this vantage point is gorgeous. I prefer it to the view from the Eiffel Tower. An unparalleled visage of the city of love.
We beat all the lines to get into the basilica. And unlike our experience at Notre-Dame, we basically had it all to ourselves.
We took a slow and leisurely walk through the basilica, stopping to appreciate its many paintings, sculptures, bas reliefs, and stained glass windows. The Basilica of the Sacred Heart does not reach the grandeur of Notre-Dame, but that statement should not be taken as me knocking the basilica. In fact I think it's all the better for it.
More somber, the Basilica of the Sacred Heart felt like the kind of space that even though bigger and better churches existed it would be forever content with what it is. I imagine this much like a vintage 80's era Porsche 911. What care the 911 if newer, sleeker, more powerful cars emerged after its release or even existed before. It was the 911, dammit! That sort of thought process is beneath it.
When we left Monmartre we embarked on a journey through Paris' shopping districts. We visited Galeries Lafayette, Champs-Élysées, and Place Vendôme. While we walked and enjoyed many of the shops and bistros we found along the way, we were actually attempting to accomplish a specific goal.
Steph, being a life-long fan of Louis Vuitton, had bought herself an LV passport cover while in Madrid a while back. When we had arrived in Amsterdam the week before, she surprised me with a trip to the LV flagship store and gifted me my own passport cover as a belated birthday gift. We'd had it stamped in Amsterdam, but didn't have time to do so in Brussels. We'd made an appointment at the Champs-Élysées flagship store, but missed it. So we went all over town trying to get the stamp. We ended up at the Maison Vendôme flagship store.
The kind of service we received at these stores, and particularly the Vendôme store, despite being unable to procure the stamp, was impeccable. We did purchase some city guides, but left somewhat deflated that we'd travelled all the way to Paris and would be returning home without an LV stamp. Regardless, this last day was spent exploring much of the parts of Paris we had not yet had a chance to. And at any rate, we did end up getting a stamp at the LV store at Charles de Gaulle, an idea presented to us by the manager of the Maison Vendôme flagship.
We'd seen most of the city, fallen in love with it, and lamented that we would have to leave it the following day. But we still had one more thing left to do, and it was a great way to cap this incredible time in Europe.
We'd booked a cruise of the Seine that evening. So we made sure to head to the dock just before sunset. We sat and had coffee and cigarettes as we waited for our river cruise ship to arrive. We were simultaneously pleased with ourselves, with the last eight days we'd spent galivanting through Europe, and melancholic that we would return home the following morning. Of course, we had our kids back home to which we needed to return. But they could wait another day, couldn't they? Just one more order of escargot? No. Maybe a French 75? Alas, no. We resigned ourselves to another cigarette and reminded ourselves that we loved our children very much and we wanted to return home to them.
I made this exposure of Steph, backlit with the setting sun, with the intention of having a final portrait of her in Paris. I'd spent more time making portraits of her here in Paris than in Amsterdam, Brussels, and Mons combined. And I think it is my favorite of the trip. It gives glamor, sophistication, grit, and seduction; not unlike Paris itself, I think.
The Seine River cruise was, of course, incredible. It gave us a point of view we had not been able to enjoy until that point. We went up and back down the city of Paris, drinking in the last of its sweetness. Of course, we had booked the cruise at this time specifically to see the Eiffel Tower light up. From the vantage of the Seine, we imagined the view would be awe-inspiring. And it was. With some incredible timing, we approached the dock beneath the Eiffel Tower just as it was set alight with a cacophony of dancing lights. It was perfection. There was no better way to cap this trip.
We'd started in Amsterdam, moved through Brussels and Mons, and exhausted the last of our time in Paris. Before we were back in our hotel room that night, feelings of longing for this amazing city washed over us. All good things, invariably, must come to an end. As I often tell Link when the topic comes up on our family vacations, "We love a rose because we know it'll soon be gone." The Twilight Zone quote has always stuck with me, a poignant reminder that all good things must come to an end.
We will be back. This isn't adieu. That's too final. Au revoir? Not much better.
À la prochaine. Yes. That seems more appropriate. À la prochaine, mon amour.
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