Water Lilies, Macarons, and Easter Service at Notre Dame

Today isn't a day for planning...or at least, that is my goal. I try hard to be a "free spirit" but it's the one thing at which I seem to consistently fail. But, for Derek's sake, we're sleeping in. At least, as long as I managed to be able to bear, before I said "OK, that's enough, we're in Paris, I'll die if we have to stay inside one more minute!" And since he's a loving husband who isn't yet ready to divorce me over my mania, readied himself for my day with "no planning."

Every morning, we stop off at the corner boulangerie for our croissants, and since this is our last full day in Paris, we decide to theme it around food and go track down the best there is, according to my well-researched list for cheeses, breads, macaroons, and chocolates.

We took the metro down to the Tuileries station and wandered around Jardin des Tuileries. The day was a bit grey, so it didn't make for the best picture-taking, but it fit the mood as we made our way into Musée de l'Orangerie. It's an incredible collection of Europe's 20th century art and is best known for it's amazing impressionist collection which includes 8 of Monet's water lily murals. Thankfully, it wasn't very busy.

We stayed in the room, shaped in a giant oval, staring at these paintings. We must have been in there for an hour, sitting, standing, shifting our gaze, taking in the big picture and every tiny brush stroke which made up this amazingly calming scene on the walls. His intention was for people to find peace when looking at them, and he accomplished that well. It was one of those periods in your life where time doesn't really exist - you just try to understand how a few brush strokes in what seems to be the exact same color all over the walls broadens into something so evocative and beautiful.

The museum had some beautiful pieces from other famous artists of the era, including some wonderful work from Manet and Degas which were on loan.

First, bread. Everyone knows the French perfected the croissant, and Eric Kayser certainly is one of the places to see what one of the best tastes like. Butter. That's the only word that is important.

Onward to the best macarons we can find! Pierre Marcolini was highly recommended, and I absolutely understood why people sing their praises from the moment we walked in the door. Their macarons are DIVINE. Some of them are literally glittering. We bought 4, then strode down with them (feeling very fancy) to the water to sit and share them. We ate two - a red velvet and a caramel one - using the tiniest bites we could (to savor the flavor AND for respect for the price...we're not just swallowing these gold nuggets in one bite!). We hauled the other two along on our journey, wanting to string out our experience as long as possible.

Putting a padlock on to the Pont des Arts before throwing the key into the River Seine has become a tourist tradition in recent years, but we had no interest in joining the trend...doesn't mean they don't photo well.

At the recommendation of none other than Anthony Bordain, L'Avant Comptoir was our next spot for incredible small plates, the days menu hanging gloriously from the ceiling on little placards. This restaurant is crazy bustling, but is rather well hidden behind plastic strips in the doorway that make you feel like you're entering a walk-in freezer. An ACTUAL MOUNTAIN of butter greets you at the counter, and you can avail yourself of their free bread. Order a bottle of wine, and if you can manage to find two inches at a counter to yourself, grab it and order. Then order more. One of the best meals we've shared abroad - such a unique place!

Truffles. Because why not. Or, because you know your mothers will expect you to think of them as you saunter around all the amazing food, so you really ought not show up empty handed. And because you can only pass up so many chocolatiers before you have to give them your money. If you want to personally avoid the calories, too bad. This is Paris. This is no place to lose weight. Abandon hope, all ye who enter here.

** Side note - We nearly never buy things for others and bring them back. We make extraordinarily rare exceptions to this rule, but we don't believe in trinkets, especially for others. Our policy is to buy one item for ourselves to remember the place - ideally a handicraft or unique item to that area that represents the people or culture - and we try to find ornaments for our tree, which now represents many beautiful places around the world. We love people, but it's never worth it to haul things back, even for people who are grateful, because of the space it takes up, the difficulty in getting it back unscathed, and people's lack of true appreciation and understanding for where it came from. We love you, yes, but you're not getting anything when we come back. The sooner you come to terms with this, the better off we'll all be :-) **

Now for cheese. I knew just where we needed to go - we had passed it earlier in the week and I made a mental note to circle back when it was open. Fromagerie Laurent Dubios on 47 Ter Boulevard Saint-Germain is the absolute best place to go. We read that their experts will help you choose your cheese - this isn't a self serve kind of spot. We gave her some ideas and she picked us out a lovely harder cheese (whose name we've long since forgotten) and a soft Camembert which did not smell wonderful but was the most popular cheese in the area. We had them sealed to take home (yep, they can travel overseas if they're preserved correctly - they'll wrap them for you).

Next door was a wine shop, so we picked a cheap bottle of red to enjoy in our room at the end of the day.

Now, we've unfortunately recognized that one cannot do everything in their visit, so we decide to skip the famous Notre Dame Cathedral in favor of the Paris Catacombs. THIS NEXT PART IS IMPORTANT. They close at 8:30 pm and their last admission is at 7:30 pm. They restrict visitors to 200 at a time, so even if you get there two hours before they close (which we did), you still may not get to go in. The line wrapped around for what seemed like a half mile, and as we stood there with throngs of people, had the sinking recognition that we'd wasted our last chosen stop on something that would not work out. What to do?! Well, go to a nearby Aussie pub and drink your cares away, of course! Cafe Oz Denfert did not disappoint.

So, forlorn that our last stop didn't work out, we walked all the way back to Notre Dame, just to look at that magnificent building one last time in the dusk, and LO AND BEHOLD, there was a line forming in front of it. Police officers and military personnel were checking all people going to the line by funneling them through gates. Well, heck, we didn't know what was going on, but if they were going to open the Cathedral at night (it's only open in the day), then we'd better get in line! After about 30 minutes, the doors opened and we were ushered inside. They gave us a pamphlet at the doors. It was in French. And Latin. Sooo, basically useless to us.

The church was very dark, lit only by candles - you couldn't see the ceilings. It had never really occurred to me until then that all natural light is needed to really see a church at its best - electric lights really aren't prevalent in older churches in their sanctuaries. We sat in some wooden chairs and settled in, unsure what we were about to witness. It hadn't really occurred to us that this was an Easter service - on vacation, your days get a little mixed up, and besides knowing we were leaving the next day had forgotten it was a holiday weekend at all.

The service started with an incredible bonfire in front, flanked by two dozen men in white robes. They prayed, describing the fire as the sanctifying of Christ (to be honest, I'm guessing this is what it was about...it's in French, remember?). When I realized I might miss it while sitting indoors, I grabbed the camera and sneaked out of the church to take photos and left Derek behind inside. I nearly didn't make it back in, the place was guarded so thoroughly, but I was grateful for the added security given all the bombings and terrorist attacks that had been taking place.

We sat, taking it all in, for awhile. It was surreal, getting to worship in such a way. Half a world away, in another language, in this incredible place, Christ was being Glorified. He wasn't just risen for Americans, or people who speak English. We get so self-centered in our image of who God is. When you fully begin to recognize how big he truly is, no words can describe that feeling.

The service was going to be at least 4 hours, and as magical as this was, we weren't really benefiting from hearing it in a language we couldn't understand, so we made our way back to our hotel to drink our wine and pack. But then, the worst thing imaginable happened.

I left the two macarons. From Pierre Marcolini. The pistachio and passion fruit flavors. UNDER. MY. SEAT. Back in the church. I was in such a hurry to sneak out without disturbing people that I didn't grab them. And I mourned them, verbally, for a literal hour.

But there we have it. Our trip has come to an end. It'd be nearly a year before I'd have another macaron. I'd share my cheese with friends back home who would, unsurprisingly, not appreciate where it was from, and think it was too stinky. We'd hang our poster from the Moulin Rouge in our new house after a move to a new state. And we'd await the day that France would host us again, just a year later. We simply can't get enough of this place.

The Musical Gardens of Versailles

Today's the day...I've anticipated showing Derek this marvelous, breathtaking estate since we knew we were heading to Paris. When I visited 12 years ago, it was one of the highlights of my family trip. I'm secretly a 90 year old woman who would love nothing more than to cover my walls with thick, ornately woven tapestries and gild every surface in my house, so this palace is my Eden.

Versaille is a 45 minute train ride from Paris. Derek and I stopped by our favorite corner bakery, picked up the most indulgent pastries we'd had yet (one filled with almond paste and covered in toasted almonds, the other stuffed with raspberries and chocolate and covered in a light glaze and sliced almonds....I'm literally drooling right now thinking about it), and made our way to the station.

We rode the line and talked to a couple from the States who had seen pick pockets working at a station. The man was a police officer in Canada and, although he saw a teen girl remove a wallet from a man's pocket, was unable to get her to produce it when he called her out...it had already been passed off through a maze of coordinated teens. He told us how the operation works - younger people, seemingly on their own, operate in a web, passing items off, so that if any of them is caught, the item is no longer on their person. There are signs all over the stations warning people of this. We didn't have anything taken, but we're very dilligent travelers - I don't carry a purse and Derek keeps his wallet in a front jacket pocket, always sealed, nearly in front of his face. There you go...if you want to rip us off, you know where to hit us now if you decide to pickpocket us abroad ;-)

It's Friday. This is important, because there are days no one should plan to visit Versailles (because everyone else plans to visit Versailles on those days). This place is a magnet for tourists, so never go on Sunday or Tuesday - it's closed Mondays, so obviously don't go then either. Saturday is a foolish time too, because the traffic is at an all time high on weekend days UNLESS you're a genius and visit during the summer when they do a special night show of the fountains only on Saturdays - then by all means! Our main focus was the famous Musical Gardens, which the Versailles estate only makes active on a specific schedule...it's worth the expanded ticket, believe me. Just pick a date where the fountains and music are on, but that's trickier than you'd think. Their schedule is more than a little haphazard, so check it carefully before you go.

It's not early. We're on vacation, so no one's talking Derek into waking up early to see fountains and tapestries, so we arrive around noon. The line outside the palace is probably a 3 hour wait...for people who pre-purchased tickets. Let that sink in.

We skip the palace and head to the gardens which we entered with ease...unlike many, who were being turned away with confusion-stricken faces at the fact that their tickets didn't cover the grounds. Do your homework - pay all the money and go wherever you want. Or don't, but then yeah, you can't see everything. It's not an all-you-can-eat buffet, unfortunately.

So, we wander the gardens, watching the fountains dance along with pre-recorded Baroque music. We got ourselves lost wandering among the huge hedges that formed a very Harry Potter-esque maze (if there had been a cup, I'd not have touched it, believe you me) and out to the main gardens.

We passed out of the gates at the waterway at the edge of the property and rented a row boat for an hour. The sun was shining, we had brought baguettes and wine, and paddled away, getting sunburned but hardly caring for our joy of such a peaceful day.

We bought gelato at a little snack stand and sat on the grass for our picnic (yes, wine, gelato and bread, that's all one needs here). Derek fell asleep (he does at every park we stop at) and I wandered back to the gardens to take pictures (take your ticket everywhere with you...they won't let you in again if you left it with the backpack your sleeping husband is guarding). I took a bajillion. And now I'm stuck editing them all. I'd be disheartened if I didn't get so much joy from reliving that day through them.

We spent all day in the gardens, and just an hour before the palace was going to close, we hopped in a much shorter (but still ridiculously long) line with a million other people and I took photos of the palace while Derek held our place in line. When we finally reached the entrance, we were shuffled through each room with the mob - I could literally have picked my feet up off the ground and would have been moved through the place through the pressure of other bodies holding me up. This wasn't what I remembered of Versailles.

My favorite room of all time is the Hall of Mirrors. Louis XIV was the biggest show off...as if he didn't have enough splendor in the estate and grounds, he filled a giant hall with the most precious and expensive items at the time - mirrors. There are 357 in all, primarily arranged in 17 pillared sections, which reflected guilded sculptures, marble walls, delicate chandeliers and the gardens through the enormous open windows. Oh, and the people. That's the other thing they reflect. Hundreds of people, all holding up their ipads and phones and listening to their translated audio guides, clumped in groups and shuffling together through the hall to cram into the next room. All the photos I took were of the ceiling. You'll just have to check out the photos online of the hall when it's blissfully empty - that's the only way any human not employed by the estate will view it that way again. It's a stark contrast to the garden, and Derek vastly preferred the garden. My memories of the place have been replaced with reality, and it's lost a bit of shine for its extreme popularity (perhaps it was the time of year...but I chalk it up to its beauty, historical significance, and the fact that people simply travel more). But hey, we're here, so I suppose they all should be also :-)

Edit: I originally posted without mentioning that after we visited the Palace, I hit absolutely every. single. fountain, whether it was running or not, until there were guards literally locking the grottos behind me as the gardens closed. Derek was patient, but only the "I'm in love with you so I'll be patient" patient, not the raptured engaged kind of patient that I'd have preferred. Oh, Bassin du Dragon, I'll return to see you in action yet!

Before we took the train back, we stopped off for a "real food" dinner at a cafe near the station. That real food was flambeed crepes, obviously. French flame on french crepes...our lives were complete. Derek had a savory, I had a sweet, and we hopped the train to head back.

Instead of getting off at our stop, we went a bit further to the Arc de Triomph, to see it at night. It's glorious at night. There's a restaurant nearby that my brother had recommended called Le Relais de l'Entrecote on Rue Marbeuf which serves amazing steak tartar. Tragically, it was closed, but we stopped next door at a restaurant that was equally amazing.

At Restaurant Le Bistro Marbeuf, we had a bottle of white wine and incredible bread, we shared french onion soup and I had the duck (I want to eat like this every day). No steak tartar - we'll come back tomorrow and search that out. A family sitting behind us was clearly from the US. They didn't even try saying hello to the waiter in french (do at least that - they really appreciate you making even a basic effort), they asked to substitute items (I died - pretty please don't be that person), they asked if the shrimp dish was vegetarian after they had it in front of them (what an amazing question), and they told us they were visiting Versailles tomorrow (Saturday...the weekend of Easter. Worst decision ever). We made small talk - they were from Ohio - then we walked home. Was it a long walk? Everything seems closer than it is here. Derek was so beat from walking that he forbid me from going across the street to get a perfect night shot of the Eiffel Tower. So you can thank him and his tired tourist feet for my lack of frame-worthy Eiffel night pictures. I do. Just kidding :-|

I'm Cabaret, Au Cabaret, To Cabaret!

It's market day! On Thursday mornings, the Marche Bastille opens, full of fresh produce, baked goods, seafood, clothing, records, handicrafts, flowers, paper products...the list goes on for a hundred stalls. We wandered up and down the rows - these markets are the best place for pictures. I went crazy, and Derek sat patiently on a bench and watched people browsing, while I took all the photos I wanted. 

We stopped at a crepe stand - Derek got a Nutella banana crepe with Chantilly creme, and I got one with cheese, sausage and mustard. It's hard to tell who "won" with the best decision on that one, but I'd personally recommend you get a crepe, whatever your preference, at their stall. I wanted badly to buy the lilacs from the little ladies selling them (Derek said if we lived here, that's what he'd do each week...which makes me want to move here immediately). 

My favorite was watching the women hold bra cups up to their chests to decide if they'd fit, since there aren't fitting rooms and they are all bundled in boxes, spread out over tables (it's like a Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual Sale, only on the sidewalk and surrounded by pig faces and bunches of carrots). The Bastille Tower (Place de la Bastille) itself appears to be under construction, with most of the bottom covered in siding. That's the trouble with tourism in Europe - something is always under construction, or restoration, and they really don't care if you can't get pictures of the thing. I wish they could do the work in the middle of winter. My expectations are fully reasonable, I know. 

We bought bread at a boulangerie and ate in the park in the center of the nearby Place des Vosges (originally Place Royale) by Henri IV from 1605-1612, and is the oldest planned square in Paris (and one of the nicest). Derek fell asleep in the grass, and I took pictures. 

We took the metro to the Champs Elysees and strolled down the streets, looking in the shops (primarily for a bathroom). We took a side trip to the Seine to see the Grand Palais and the beautiful Pont Alexandre III bridge, "Paris’s most elegant, grandiose, and sumptuous bridge: one of the most beautiful river crossings in the world." And it is. 

Then, we made our way to the famous Arc de Triomphe - you can buy tickets in the subway, which you have to use to access the Arc, which stands in the center of a busy traffic roundabout. Going in and up to the top is a bit of a waste of money, in my opinion, if you've already seen all of Paris from the Eiffel Tower, but, when in Rome, right? It's equally impressive standing below the arc, or across the street from it, where you'll struggle to get a picture without cars and buses in the way. 

Next up, the Rodin museum. We bought our tickets in advance...you don't need to. I recommend visiting later in the day - the gardens are lovely, and there's a nice cafe there where you can rest (that sells gelato). The inside of the museum is mostly models and other partially finished or broken work from Rodin. A few finished pieces are really nice to see, but we vastly preferred the outdoor part of the museum. My personal favorite was the Gates of Hell - truly magnificent. And of course, the Thinker. "The Kiss" was on loan to the Grand Palais, so we didn't get to see it. 

Back at our hotel, we got spiffed up and took the metro north to the incredible cabaret, Moulin Rouge. Buy your tickets in advance! We went to the 9 pm show and didn't add dinner or drinks - tickets were about 90 euros each. You do need to dress nicely. I wore 4" heels that my husband bought me for our 8 year anniversary! Don't worry - I managed to change into and out of them on the subway ;-) Tragically, you're not allowed to film or take pictures, but it was well worth the price, and it was certainly one of a kind. Highly recommended! The people taking pictures of the well-known red windmill outside really missed out if they didn't see the actual show. 

Disclaimer - there were a lot of boobs and a lot of butts, but they class it up. It's a cabaret, after all! I still remember that night fondly, and I have the Ferie song stuck in my head to this day.

The Louvre, Tulleries and Pastries from Heaven

Pastries. That's the only way to start every day here. Don't waste your time on American buffets. You'll ruin your chances to stuff yourself full of every unique, hand-crafted, brilliantly balanced goody. And I just can't tolerate that kind of insolence.

We grabbed ours each day at a pastry shop near our hotel, called la Petite Chocolaterie. Every moment, red-letter, as Jasmine sang. You can't go wrong. Go for the almond croissant or the chocolate raspberry-stuffed croissant. And then get two.

We took the metro to the Tulleries Garden and walked along the avenue to track down Angelina's chocolaterie. We stood in awe of the sheer decadence, both from the bakery items and the rooms themselves. This tea house is incredible - decorated tastefully, well organized, and mouth-watering at every. single. turn. We passed on the seated brunch (not a difficult choice since the line was out the door - make reservations) and picked out a few treats from their display case. We couldn't pass up their (actually) world famous African hot chocolate, which tastes like rich, slightly spiced hot pudding. An actual HOLY COW must have produced this beverage. They sell it in bottles. Take a dozen home.

We took our gorgeous chocolate mousse cake with GOLD toppings, an apple-filled tart and a few gold-dusted macarons to the park and found a few chairs in the shade. We ate our treats in sheer bliss, wondering how our life suddenly is straight out of a dream. I'm not even embarrassed to say that at one point, I let go of the box, and it toppled to the ground with the last of the chocolate mousse in it, and I picked it up out of the dirt and ate any part of it that appeared unharmed. Really, I should have been embarrassed to let that gold go to waste. Don't you judge me! Or do...I'm not sorry. Neither is the bird that picked up the gold hazelnuts that I left behind.

We wandered the massive park, sitting at a duck pond to read for awhile. Derek fell asleep. The flowers were out, the trees were in full bloom. I was bummed to see that it was still too early in the season for them to rent boats out to sail in the large fountain - I had planned to join the children in this revelry, but it wasn't meant to be. We watched the ducklings and the coots, who chased the mallards away from...everything. They'd make great guard birds. There was a goat tied up, presumably as a free way to mow some of the grass. A man was blowing huge bubbles, surrounded by enthralled children. He should know better - children don't carry money. I doubt he made up the cost of his bubble solution. Cheap kids.

We walked to a quick cafe to get a snack. I thought vegetable quiche would be a win. FAIL. It had CARROTS in it. And that was the "vegetable." If you want quiche, have the ham version. You can't go wrong with ham. Even if you're a vegetarian...eat anything but the vegetable quiche.

Now, the Louvre, a must-see but very overwhelming part of Paris. Buy your tickets in advance, and even then, you wait in line. Just a shorter line. There's not a great time of day to visit - it's hectic and crazy all the time. But we went in the early afternoon and I think that was better than first thing in the morning (but that may be my optimism talking). Our favorite piece is Winged Victory - it's famous for a reason, and it's amazing to see in person.

Next up was Venus de Milo, a captivating lady, if ever there were one (well, Winged Victory has her beat, frankly, but she's right next door and pretty impressive in her own right). We took more pictures of the crowds around the Mona Lisa than anywhere else - it was an actual joke. Don't expect to see it in person - all these people taking pictures of the damn thing on their phones and ipads (Don't be that person. Get a camera, use a phone, or don't take the picture. You lose instant respect from strangers the moment you hold that giant electronic device up to your face.). I wanted to point out to these people that there are pictures online of the piece, and that you can't even get CLOSE to it now, with glass and barriers and a million people...what exactly do you plan to accomplish with your picture? To prove to people you saw it? There are better things to waste your life doing. I felt bad for the other magnificent works in the same room with Mona. People paid no attention to them.

We went to the dungeon, to see the original foundation of the castle that the museum is built atop, which is less exciting than it sounds. We wandered the Egyption area, looking for a specific set of sphinx sculptures, but never did find them. The place is massive. We found the furnishing part of the museum (which I die over but Derek could care less about, except when we found a table made with over 100 precious stones and fossilized wood - that woke him up!). With 3 hours spent here, we were done. All the amazing things around us stopped being interesting, and our tired adult selves started to break down. Time for food.

We knew the Latin Quarter was the place to find good grub, so we walked over through Ile de la Cite to Notre-Dame. We stopped across the street at A. Lacroix Patissiere. The views couldn't be beat, and the coffee and raspberry crumble was stellar. The owner's an ex-pat from America. Mad respect. We took pictures with Notre-Dame in the background. The lighting was so perfect, people asked us if it was photo shopped. We must have taken 15 of them because people you meet have no clue how to take proper photos, and every one of them was too dark, too light, out of focus, cut off our heads, cut off the cathedral...

We realized we should probably eat actual food, since we'd had all pastries and chocolate and desserts today (and did NOT actually eat the quiche I got, because, carrots), so we wandered further into the quarter and found the FAMOUS Fromagerie, Laurent Dubois. I'd read about the cheese. I wanted all of it. But, that wasn't the thing our bodies needed to keep running, so we made a note to return.

A little further in, up the hill towards the Pantheon, and we happened upon a French restaurant that I could eat dinner at every day (this is a fact): Le Petite Perigourdine. Reservations are recommended, but if you're there early in the dining hour, you might get lucky, which is what happened to us. Reasonably prices, lots of good bread, wonderful Chardonnay (which we had with cheese from Laurent Dubois, fortunately on the menu given my earlier cheese lust) and

French dining etiquette: Only butter the bread you're immediately going to eat. Don't butter the whole slice. Tear off one bite at a time. Derek had cod with a texture that reminded me of lobster. They had table service for specific dishes - the lady next to us had a flambeed dish, the man two over had duck carved for him on the floor, and the man behind us had mashed potatoes whipped in his presence, poured into a mountain on his beef-covered cutting board. Dinner and a show!

We were so close to the Pantheon, I insisted on walking up the hill to see it. Then we were "so close" to Notre Dame, and I wanted to get pictures at night, with it all lit up. Then we were "so close" to the Louvre, that I wanted to get pictures there, now that all the obnoxious people were gone. Derek complained on this last stop that he was freezing (his own fault, he didn't bring a proper jacket), but indulged me nonetheless. It is easy to feel like everything is very close by, and in a sense, it is, but you can end up walking for miles over the course of the day between those very "close" stops. We took the metro to our hotel...I think we both came to the realization that things were a tiny bit further away than they looked. Fitbit walkers, rejoice!

April in Paris

We didn't expect to go to Paris. That seems to happen more often than not - we have plans to go somewhere, the plans fall through, and we get an unforeseen opportunity to see this incredible city at this perfect time of year!

We took an evening flight directly from Minneapolis, and 8 hours later, arrived in Paris. We found our hotel on Trivago, the beautiful Hotel Ares Eiffel, just blocks from the Eiffel Tower. It was a quaint, quiet hotel but if we went again, we'd probably pick something more centrally located. However, the underground system is magnificent, and we had a very easy time using the subway to get around. Don't bother renting a car - it's a waste of money, and parking would be a pain in the arse.

Hotel Ares let us check in early (thank goodness, we dropped our bags off and took much needed showers), and once we were revived, headed out to see the famous Eiffel tower, in all its glory, on such a blue, cloudless day. We blocked out the hoards of tourists and hawkers selling mini towers (I remember this part of my trip here 12 years ago like it was yesterday...my family thought the blinking, glowing plastic towers were so ridiculous, and we were bothered over them so much, we eventually bought one. Touche, hawkers, touche.)

We made our way to the River Seine through Champ De Mars park to take a lunch river cruise (Bateaux Parisians - $65 per person). The port is just below the Eiffel Tower, and after we checked in, we were greeted with champagne, bread and wine (all you really need, amiright?!). The wine was a red Gerard Bertrand 2014 Minervois (Syrah - Carignan blend) - we finished it a little too quickly!

We ate our three course meal of seared Bonito fish, avocado, and artichoke heart with sesame vinagrette (for Derek) and a soft-boiled egg, smoked duck filet nuggets and crisp green vegetable salad for me, followed by sea bass with caponata and basil pesto and herb crusted lamb with creamy polenta gratin. And for dessert? Cheese of the day from their Maitre Fromager and a small pot of Itakuja chocolate cream, orange and hazelnut financier cake. We died and went to heaven!

A violinist and a vocalist traded off performing live music while we watched Paris pass by our windows. We passed the Louvre, the Muse d'Orsay, the National Library of France, and a sister Statue of Liberty that was gifted to France from America three years after they gifted us the original.

So there we were, in a near trance from being stuffed full of good French food and wine, lulled by the hot sun and sweet music, and completely in love with the marvelous weather and sights around us, we went back to our hotel and passed out.

Not one to waste too much time napping, even when it was desperately needed, I roused Derek and off we went to see the Eiffel Tower (PS - they are NOT joking about buying tickets for the lift literal MONTHS in advance. If you didn't plan, plan to take the stairs.) There's major security here - you have to go through a metal detector to get in, and open your bags, etc. There are guards with massive guns wandering around the area. I can't blame them for their extra precautions - less than a week after we returned from this trip, there was a shooting on the Champs Elysees.

We arrived around 7:30 and were in line for about an hour and a half. We paid our 7 euros each to climb to the first level, and by then, the city was completely dark. The lights were magnificent! My camera clicked away, focused especially on a building (I think it's the Sacre Coeur church) with the moon rising just behind it. We took more stairs to the second level, enjoying the 360 degree views of the city at night. But, of course, you've got to go to the top!

We took another elevator to the very top (another 6 euros each) to see the tiny apartment that Gustave Eiffel maintained for special guests like Albert Einstein. Apparently if you build something this massive and meaningful, you get to put in a cozy reading nook 984 feet in the air. Noted.

We waited (this was a common theme...it's like Disney World here. Wait in line for 50 times the length of time you'll enjoy ANYTHING you want to see, because it's April in Paris, and you're not the only one who had the genius idea of visiting today) for the elevators to take us down.

How do we cap off an evening like this? Nutella crepes, of course! And with dinner at a forgettable cafe brasserie near our hotel along the Avenue du Suffren. I was tired, and therefore, stupid. Don't eat anything but Parisian food, if you can help it. I never regretted any French food - and how could you?! Italian is common and popular here, but it needs to be REAL, authentic Italian - otherwise, expect it to taste like cardboard. There are some good places here, but the pizzas at the cafes taste like an open faced cheese sandwich, so find a good Italian place, or don't order pizza.