10 reasons i might be falling for paris
Paris je t’aime? I’m still not sure I’d go that far. But our relationship is definitely progressing. Despite the crappy first day in the city and our terrible scare when we temporarily misplaced Lulu, I began to fall for the City of Light a little more each day. Here are 10 reasons why:
10. THE PAIN (as in bread, not agony)
My picky 4-year-old eater has expanded his palate since we got here. He’s a member of the cured pork sausage (saucisson sec) fan club; he succumbed to the delights of the ham-and-cheese crepe; he demolishes all shapes and colors of peaches and nectarines within arms’ reach (they’re extra delicious here); he tasted an olive (still a hard no — but at least he tried?) and he finally taught himself to eat cherries with only minimal pit ingestion. But in Paris, his choice for breakfast was a fresh, warm baguette tradition. Slightly different from the classic baguette, which is a little lighter inside and crustier outside, this bread, under a law passed in 1993, can only contain flour, water, yeast and salt. (Of course the French have laws about these things, silly!) If I’m being honest, it was his breakfast, his all-day snack and security object … but shhhhh, don’t tell the French. I’ve heard they aren’t big on kids snacking between meals.
Max and his daily pain tradition, also called pain traditionnel francais.
He has his favorite French carbohydrate, and Mommy has hers.
9. BOAT RIDES
This is one of those activities that’s totally touristy … and also totally worth it. Our boat went down the Canal Saint-Martin — whose lock system was fascinating to at least one of my kids — and then we were underground. Every few feet, sunlight coming through the holes above us illuminated the water, making it a glowing green. After we’d been through all four locks, we were cruising the Seine. The upside: taking in some of Paris’ most famous sights without lifting a foot, a breeze making our hair look wind-machine fabulous. Downside: fellow passengers included a Canadian dance troupe consisting of about 42 teenagers, who took almost all of the above-board seats and created a scrum at the crepe table.
Yes, there was crepe service on this boat (sounded good when we booked!). The crepes were taken out of plastic packages and microwaved briefly by a teenage boy being scolded by his boss on what may have been his first day on the job. We filled the steaming little pancakes ourselves; the jars of raspberry, strawberry and apricot jams went untouched and the fight for the two giant Nutella jars reminded me of the Battle of Winterfell. (I’m a little proud to say that Lulu came away victorious.) At the end of the journey, the boat started playing music over the loudspeakers, creating extreme cognitive dissonance. David Bowie’s “Let’s Dance”? Sure. “The Macarena”? It happened. The teen dance troupe went all in, and Max has been doing the arm moves and wiggling his little hips ever since. (Thanks, Canada.)
Max, riveted, watches from the back of the boat as we go through one of the locks of the Canal Saint-Martin.
The water takes on an eerie glow when you pass under a hole in the street above. It felt like being in the sewers, but cleaner, and made us want to watch Ratatouille again. A closer look at a hole, and the Canadian dance group, at right.
Notre Dame, under scaffolding. Prosecutors recently said they don’t suspect arson in the April 15 fire; a faulty electrical plug or hastily tossed cigarette are possible culprits. Side note: Can you imagine being the worker whose half-lit butt set the city’s most famous landmark on fire?
The father, the son and the Tour Eiffel.
8. LULU BERLU
We stumbled upon this toy store on one of our usual "let’s just get lost and see where we end up” walks, which we pitch to our kids as “we’re going somewhere amazing — hurry up!” walks. We noticed it because our daughter spotted her nickname on the colorful facade. Then we stepped inside and our heads exploded. Here were ALL THE TOYS YOU USED TO PLAY WITH. G.I. Joe. Smurfs. Strawberry Shortcake. My Little Pony. Star Wars. Original Cabbage Patch dolls still in the package (my grandmother drove across state lines and may have physically fought another customer to get me one back in the ‘80s, according to family lore). My 8-year-old self nearly wet her pants in this place.
My Lulu & Lulu Berlu — Paris’ coolest vintage toy store.
Remember: Don’t get them wet. No bright light. And never feed them after midnight.
Call me a snob américaine, but La Guerre des Etoiles just doesn’t have the same ring to it.
Like a kid in a … toy store.
Board games for days. Anyone up for a round of Allo…Docteur?
7. PHARMACIES
Duane Reade and CVS are to French pharmacies what Wonder bread is to Max’s beloved pain tradition. Pharmacists all have pharmacology degrees — and here there is no cashier or middleman. The person who listens to your symptoms and chooses a medication for you also rings you up. There are no beach toys, soda, discount candy from the most recent holiday, or mile-long receipts with coupons for Metamucil. Just medicine and high-end beauty products. I got fever medicine for my son, cough & cold medicine for my husband and … maybe just a little of the world’s most glorious dry oil (below) for myself. Also, no plastic bags; they pack your purchase in a small paper bag that’s prettier than some of the framed art in my apartment.
I’ve been trying to not acquire stuff on the road. But come on, SEVEN precious botanical oils! Couldn’t resist.
6. THE NOOKS & CRANNIES
This view, of Lulu exploring Paris’ narrow streets and hidden corners, never gets old for me.
5. THE CATACOMBS
Lulu and I waited two hours in the hot sun to get into this popular attraction. I spent half of that time mentally debating whether this was an insane way to spend our last day. We made friends with the people standing near us in the queue — a young woman from Lyon, a family from Illinois, a couple from Colorado — and took turns holding the line so the others could find shade and sustenance. This sort of travelers’ camaraderie is the stuff I remember from my journeys as a child, so I stopped hand-wringing and embraced the experience (and all the bad jokes being thrown around: "We’re dying to get in…This line isdeadly slow…”). The Catacombs themselves were interesting. Chilly too, being more than 22 yards underground — the height of a five-story building — in an old network of mine tunnels that zig-zag under the city. More than 6 million bodies were relocated here starting in the 18th century due to cemetery overcrowding, and you walk amongst just a small fraction of the bones. It was a perfect way to spend a girls’ day in Paris with my (equally macabre) daughter.
For scale: 8-year-old vs piles of centuries-old bones.
An eerie photo Lulu took of me in the tunnel. Ghost story fodder for days…
The final verdict: hanging with these old souls was worth the long wait in line. (Pro tip: to skip the line, book days ahead on the web site — but it’ll cost you more than double the cost of standing in the queue.)
4. LUXEMBOURG GARDENS BOAT POND
No bells and whistles, no motorized contraptions. Just simple sailboats and wooden sticks to push them away from the wall when they drift ashore. Max had the most fun. For about $4 per half-hour, this is one of Paris’ greatest mom bargains.
An international regatta! Can you guess why he chose this boat (right)?
Max willing his boat to catch wind and come to him so he could give it a good push.
3. FLASH INVADERS
This free app turns ambling around Paris and spotting street art into an old-school scavenger hunt/video game. You compete against other “players,” or just rack up points on your own, by spotting tile “Invaders,” snapping photos (in real time; it uses GPS to ensure you don’t cheat) and hitting “Flash It.” Each invader has a point value, which you learn once you’ve successfully caught one. This one was fun for the whole family, and made long walks more tolerable for the kids because, you know, games.
Daddy shoots … and scores!
2. MACARONS
These delicate little poofs of meringue and cream come in all sizes and colors. We have them stateside, too, but there’s something about a Parisian maracon that makes your eyes roll back in your head. At Laduree, we painstakingly chose 8 from flavors that included rose, strawberry candy, bergamot and the (eggshell blue) tea-infused Marie Antoinette. We walked away with our treasures packed inside a small paper bag. Some time later, my daughter had to check to see if the macarons were being crushed in the bottom of the stroller.
She pulled them out quickly and somehow they ended up all over the ground. And by ground, I mean … gutter. A man walking by gasped and looked at me with alarm/pity. Lulu’s heart may have stopped. We quickly picked them up and shoved them back in the bag. That night we dusted them off, trying not to think of all the dog poop that’s vacuumed from the streets daily by actual motorized dog poop cleaning machines. The 5-second rule also applies in Paris, we decided. Dirty or not , they were delicious.
So many choices, so little time…
A beautiful box of macarons, which probably cost as much as our dinner that night.
Our haul, before disaster struck.
1. PLAYGROUNDS
My old standby. The place where kids can be kids, kids can burn off all the macaron energy, and parents can rest in the shade and meet other parents. Paris has big ones (the playground below, in Luxembourg Gardens, costs money to enter) and unexpected ones tucked into small squares and side streets.
Lulu (second from right) making friends in Luxembourg Gardens. They couldn’t converse with words, but the language of the playground is universal.
Another playground, another new friend for Lulu.
Even the tiniest playground was a welcome rest stop for these two.
Catching air in the Jardin des Tuileries’ trampoline park.