Paris, je t’aime!

I love Paris in the springtime. I love Paris in the fall… Hell, I love Paris any old time and my sojourn there this past weekend – with Boyfriend in tow – only further nurtured my devotion.

Admittedly, we got off to a rocky start. Having been all loved up for the past few months we were due a little tiff and unfortunately one crash tackled us as we were finding our way from Gare du Nord to Le Marais… on foot.

Arriving Eurostar-style, as the bells of Notre Dame struck midday, we decided to embrace the glorious sunshine and make our way south sans an adequate map and ladled with two heavy carrier bags. Boyfriend’s initial wonderment and awe at the vibrancy of Europe’s most romantic city (for he was indeed a Paris-virgin) seemed to dissipate with each new crossroads and he began to ‘jokingly’ rib me about my lack of direction: “Haven’t you been here before, baby?”

Feeling just a little underappreciated – after all, I had hooked us up with some stellar accommodation on the super cheap (€ 120 for 2 nights, in the heart of Le Marais!) – I kind of snapped, yelled an expletive and called him by his full name… eek! Unsurprisingly, BF took my momentary crack very badly indeed and proceeded with his own fabulously-honed version of le traitement silencieux!

Thankfully the city of love quickly cast its lusty spell upon us once again and we managed our first hand-in-hand tour through Le Marais, across l'Isle St-Louis, into Le Cite and Notre Dame, and ending our evening with a moonlit walk around the Louvre.

Champagne and red wine and croissants and BF’s favourite, le sandwich de poulet et de fromage, consumed us, as we happily ate our way through Paris. Although we did take the opportunity to burn a few calories on Sunday when we hired bicycles and rode up Rue de Rivoli, along the Champs-Elysées, past the Arc de Triomphe, across to le Place de Trocadéro, down to and all the way up la Tour Eiffel, around l’Hotel des Invalides and into la Musée Rodin.

Not one for art or gardens, BF had to be coaxed into the latter establishment… While I reminisced about the hours spent there last summer with my girlfriend, reading our books as we lazed on sun loungers surrounded by priceless sculptures, BF was disparaging such a blatant waste of space, suggesting a mini-golf course as an alternative (and superior) use for the grounds!

On our final day we woke early to take in more of Saint Germain du Pres, le Jardin des Plantes and its menagerie, have lunch at la Grande Mosquée de Paris and a final stroll through the magnificent Jardin du Luxemburg. Apart from more comments about Paris’ severe lack of golf courses, I do believe BF fell a little in love with Paris and its historic charm. But before heading back to Gare du Nord for our evening train we took the Metro up to Chateau Rouge and climbed the (many) stairs to Basilique du Sacré Cœur. Perhaps my favourite view of Paris, our cliché moment was made complete as we listened to the soulful voice of a busker singing Louis Armstrong’s, What A Wonderful World…

Paris, je t’aime!