Following our epic adventure to Lapland (here and here) with our friends CZ and Little C, I surprised my daughter C with a trip to Paris as an early Christmas gift. C loves Paris. Even before I took her on her first trip to the City of Lights, C was already enamored with France and its capital thanks to several of her favorite Disney movies set there (Aristocats, Beauty and the Beast, Ratatouille) and several episodes of the Little Einsteins.
In the Helsinki airport, I sat C down and told her I would be revealing her early Christmas present. I had made hints for days and she was giddy with excitement though confused how I had managed to hide a gift from her and why I had checked our luggage without handing over the present. I turned on my phone’s video camera and proceeded to tell her we would not actually be flying back to Malawi that day but were instead going to Paris and Disneyland! Instead of the shouts of excitement I had expected, C sat there confused and stunned. Hmmm…looked like the Mom of the Year trophy I had thought I would clinch had slipped from my fingers.
Lucky for me, as we flew across Europe C decided to forgive me for taking her to Paris and by the time we were landing she was thoroughly thrilled to be heading to Disneyland.
The previous time we had headed to Paris in the Spring of 2018 we had also stayed a few days at Disneyland Paris. This time I opted for another one of Disneyland Paris’ hotels, the Cheyenne. Although it seemed to be the final drop off location for the Disneyland Paris Magic Shuttle from the airport, we very much liked the whimsical, Disney-touch to a wild west theme. The whole hotel complex was laid out like a western frontier town.
And we did what most people do when they go to Disney–we rode the rides, we watched the parades, we had our pictures taken with people dressed up as our favorite characters. We also do what you might expect of people in our situation — Americans who spend the majority of their time in the developed world and have just come from the frozen north — we reveled in the Christmas-y and American-ness of it all. We took full advantage of our hotel benefits, arriving early for the Extra Magic Hours and staying until closing. We got to do everything we wanted and more except for riding Crush’s Coaster, which either had lines of over an hour wait or was not running. But we just shrugged it off — we can give that a try next time we are in Paris, along with the other new attractions expected in the next few years.
After our 2.5 days at Disney it was time to head into Paris proper, and immediately we came face to face with the France outside of the Disney bubble. Like during our last visit there was yet again another transportation strike affecting the metro and RER trains. There then went my plan to take public transportation into the city so we called an Uber and enjoyed the roads with everyone else.
Once squared away in our lovely hotel near the Paris Opera, we grabbed some lunch and then took a leisurely stroll down to and through the Tuileries Garden to the Louvre. C absolutely loves to draw and had recently had a brief course in some European artists at school, so I thought she might enjoy a visit to the largest art museum in the world. I had read the best time to take younger children to the Louvre was during the evenings hours the museum offers twice a week, so Wednesday worked for us. The weather was perfect, a little cold, but not nearly as cold as Finland, and the light of late afternoon just beautiful. This was my fourth time in Paris, but I never tire of the majesty of the historic heart of this city. C loved spending time in the Louvre; we caught the highlights — the Mona Lisa, the Coronation of Napolean, the Winged Victory of Samothrace, Venus de Milo, and Egyptian antiquities — and C found a few favorite paintings of her own. I really loved seeing her make careful selections in the gift shop based on the art she most enjoyed.
On our second day in the city, dawn broke beautifully. With the metro schedule up in the air due to the strikes, we would spend the day walking. Our first stop would be the Arc de Triomphe, a 45-minute walk from our hotel. There were no lines, something that seems almost unheard of in Paris, so we headed right up to the roof. Despite the overcast skies and some rain, the view was still spectacular, even dramatic. I felt really happy to be in Paris with my girl.
We walked on to the right bank of the Seine at the Pont de l’Alma where we got some lunch in a lovely corner restaurant. My initial plan was for us to continue on to the Eiffel Tower, but we had already done quite a lot of walking, so instead, we headed to the Bateaux Mouches for a guided river tour. This was something we had planned for last time but had been nixed due to floods rising the Seine water level too high to get under some of the bridges. It was nice to get out of the cold and sit back, relax, and enjoy floating past the beauty of historic Paris. C liked the sweets I bought her, sitting down with her toys, and occasionally looking out the windows.
The weather had cleared by the time the boat returned; it was lovely for a walk. But as we headed up Rue Royale, just off of the Place de la Concorde, I caught a couple trying to steal my wallet. The sidewalk was narrow and I could sense the people behind us were walking very, very closely. I figured they wanted to pass, so I pulled C over to the building wall to let them by, and in so doing pulled my handbag, which was over my shoulder, back to my side. And it was then I noticed that the zipper on my bag was undone and my wallet half-way out. The couple–a very tall man and a petite woman, both dressed very well–immediately began to play out a ridiculous drama, pointing at shop signs in an exaggerated manner and then they ducked into the nearest store. But I walked only a little ahead of that shop and sure enough, they popped back out within 30 seconds.
There were no police around. They had not succeeded. There was little I could think to do. I rooted around in my bag and could not see anything was missing. But I felt violated nonetheless. The whole rest of the walk back I could not stop obsessing about what had just happened, what could have just happened. And trying to explain this to C – why people would do this and about my reaction. I have been many, many places in the world, at least 90 countries, and only once did someone succeed in pick-pocketing me – in China. On two other occasions, in Jakarta and Rome, someone tried but I caught them. I feel as if this is a good thing, and yet the whole situation only left a bad taste in my mouth.
Once back in the hotel room, I did not feel like going out again. But we did not like the room service menu, so I opted to head out to the supermarket around the corner. I felt irrationally fearful; I clutched my bag to my body. But just before the supermarket, I saw a family–a man, woman, and their two children–sitting on a blanket preparing to sleep for the night, and something possessed me to ask if I could buy them something. They did not speak more than a few words of English, so could not ask, but through hand signals, we worked out that the mother and the older daughter would accompany me. They moved quickly through the store, I expect fearful that if they took too long I would change my mind. When I found them in the back of the store, they had two full baskets. I could see they also were worried I would make them put something back, but I just motioned them to follow me. I paid for everything and we stepped outside. The girl thanked me and then threw her arms around my waist and hugged me fiercely. In broken English, I learned she was nine years old and they are from Syria. I had a lot of conflicting feelings, so much sadness, anger at the pickpockets and the circumstances that brought this young family to the street. These were different sides of Paris.
The next day, our last full one in Paris, we were going to try to get to the Eiffel Tower. The day started out overcast again, but the temperature was comfortable and we had a pleasant walk. About 20 minutes out I logged on to the Eiffel Tower website to buy our tickets and saw they were all sold out! Oh no! I felt bummed– the second time to the city with C and both times we did not go up the Tower. But once we arrived there, the line to buy tickets at the cashier was not long. I guess so many people now opt for the skip-the-line-admission option that it can actually be possible to sometimes just walk up, wait ten minutes, buy your tickets, and ascend.
We opted for the lift up, walk down option. Perhaps one day when C and I return we will go to the top, but I had heard the best views were really from the second level. And once again we were rewarded with a change in the weather and stunning views across Paris. I could feel the bad feelings of the day before evaporating with the sun. C was a champ, she took the 674 steps back down in stride, even after all the walking we had already done. We headed back across the river and dined in the very same establishment we had the day before, and it was just as wonderful. Then we strolled back towards the Tuileries to visit the Christmas market. I was happy to see the Roue de Paris (the Paris Ferris Wheel) that had been removed from its semi-permanent location at the Place de la Concord soon after our last visit had made a comeback in the Christmas market.
The market was fun, festive, and chock full of many, many goodies. C wanted to play fairground games as I have only once before let her do so. After many, many tries she finally won – a cellphone holder. Ha! And then we hopped aboard the Roue for a few spins with a different view. This time we could look over the Tuileries, the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel, the Louvre, and the grand buildings along the Rue de Rivoli, again also with spectacular afternoon sunlight. And as we left the market to head back to our hotel a double rainbow appeared. It was a glorious end to an overall wonderful trip.
The following day we slept late and then caught a taxi to the airport (the hotel informed us that the Roissy bus to the airport would likely not run given it was a Yellow Vest protest day). It was okay. I did not want to run into anything else that might taint the memories of this trip. Because I was pretty sure C had by then much forgiven me for giving her the gift of Paris.
The Wanderlust Diaries 