Last weekend, during the final days of summer, I finally made it to Paris. After a few weeks of cool temperatures, the sunny warmth made the whole city glow! I remember standing on a bridge shortly after arriving and looking out over the Seine, off toward swaying trees and tiered buildings, and feeling a bit of that Paris magic I’ve read so often about. The magic definitely disappeared when I encountered the full brunt of tourist crowds, but for a moment it was there, and maybe that’s all that counts.

My friend Luka and I went to a café called L’Ébouillanté, which means to scald in French. The exterior’s electric blue and yellow certainly lived up to its namesake, but thankfully their cappuccinos were just the right temperature. The café is located down an ivy-clad, cobblestoned side-street, and made for a perfect place to sit outside and watch people go by.

The famous Shakespeare and Co bookstore was super cool, and I would have gladly spent all day in there if there weren’t so many people inside, and if I wasn’t tempted to spend all my money on poetry and novels.

The Notre Dame was so crowded inside I couldn’t really enjoy it, especially after the calmness of the Notre Dame in Reims– but climbing to the top was definitely worth it! Luka is an EU student so she got in for free, but upon hearing at the ticket booth that it would be 8 euros for me I decided not to go… until the ticket guy gave me a free ticket! Who says the French aren’t friendly?:)

The stairs going up were insane– just endless spirals that went up up up forever. It was totally ridiculous, but once I made it to the top I was amazed. The views were incredible. All of Paris spread out before me in creams and grays. The chimera looking out over the city growled and pouted and thought deeply on pensive claws. These friends of Quasimodo definitely added added the perfect touch of moodiness to the gothic cathedral.

Afterwards we bought a baguette and soft cheese and a mini bottle of red wine, and met our friend Sarah in the Jardin du Luxembourg for a picnic. I have never been more French in my life. The garden was lovely too, all rustling green leaves and murmuring people stretched out in the grass, and fountains and statues and shade.

After checking into the Air BnB the three of us took the metro to the Eiffel Tower– seeing it up close was rather unromantic, but as we walked away along the Seine, the setting sun backlit the tower with pale gold and it was breathtaking. We went up the Champs Elysees and I waited forever for a berry pink framboise macaron at Ladurée, the original creator of macarons.

Post-dinner we went to a floating bar on the river where I drank a yummy but outrageously priced cocktail. It was worth the price though, because nighttime on the river was delicious and the bar played weird but good disco-y music. Later we went on a mission to find an open grocery store and bought a bottle of wine. We drank it on the bank of the Seine with all the other young people in Paris… and then bought another bottle for good measure…

The next morning I had high hopes of eating at Hardware Societe in (very hilly) Montmarte for breakfast, but those hopes were dashed at the cruel words “40 minute wait.” After an equally disheartening wait-time to see the Sacre Couer, I abandoned both morning plans and settled for a sub-optimal gallette instead, doused in regret for all the stairs I pointlessly climbed.

I was nevertheless charmed by Montmarte and all its cute streets, and it was cool to see the bright red Moulin Rouge against the blue sky. Luka and I went to the garden of the Musée La Vie Romantique for tea. It was calm and verdant and blooming with flowers, and we sipped our tea while listening to the mellow cadence of French chit-chat. A French woman asked if she could sit at our table (the garden was quite full) and when her (American) husband came bearing quiches I was delighted to find out that his kids went to UNC as well! He went to UCLA decades ago, and I used to go to Bruins games myself when I lived in Cali. It really is a small world. And sitting there in a garden in Paris, I felt known in a small way. After living abroad for over a month now I’ve realized how where you come from is so important– and this American-turned-Parisian-English-teacher knew my roots, and that’s really something.

The rest of the day was spent picnicking in the Louvre gardens and wandering through Le Marais. The weather made the whole city rosy, and despite my distaste at the sheer number of tourists everywhere (I’m a tourist as well after all) the weekend was quite rosy as well.