Paris!

Now I know what all the fuss is about. Paris is AMAZING.

When my train arrived in Paris, I wasn't feeling so hot; I'd been fighting a cold for the last few days and the meds were only just starting to kick in. Nonetheless, I managed to purchase a Metro ticket (after losing 2 Euros to a ticket machine that was clearly a friend of the one in Switzerland) and find the right platform. After about half an hour on the crowded Metro in my winter coat and heavy backpack, I was feeling even worse for wear. So rather than finding a café to wait for Evan as planned, I headed right for the Airbnb. After six flights of steep, narrow stairs, I found myself in a microscopic flat, reminiscent of Linguine's from Disney's Ratatouille, minus the view of the Eiffel Tower.

I flopped onto the bed and didn't move until Evan arrived, three hours later.

The next day, we got a bit of a late start--I was still a little slow-moving--but we managed to have a pretty packed day anyway.

We started by hitting the Tourism Office, to get a Paris Museum Pass--which, by the way, is 112% worth it, if you use it right. (I did.)

We first headed to Notre Dame, probably the best-known cathedral in the world. We explored the main part of the cathedral, then flashed our magic passes (for Evan, that was his international student ID) and headed up the towers, where we had our first bird's-eye view of Paris, as well as an up-close and personal look at some pretty badass gargoyles.

In front of Notre Dame!

On top of Notre Dame!

Soon after, we had our first Parisian macarons. And croissants. And meringues. And pain au chocolats. Basically, we ate our weight in French junk food.

Yum.

We then headed into the Lourve, where we had entirely too much fun using various Snapchat filters on all the Italian statues in the Richelieu gallery.

After our fit of immaturity subsided, Evan and I walked down the Champs Elyssés, the most famous avenue in Paris. It was all lit up for the evening, extra bright and busy thanks to the Christmas market spanning both sides of the street.

At the end of the Champs Elyssés stood the Arc d'Triomphe, a graceful island in the center of what is undoubtedly the most terrifyingly chaotic traffic circles in the world. Luckily, there was a pedestrian underpass to the Arc, so Evan and I once again broke out our all-access passes and scaled several flights of stairs for a dazzling bird's-eye view of Paris at night.

In front of the Arc d'Triomphe!

On top of the Arc d'Triomphe!

Our day finally wound down around 12:30am, after a (very) late pasta dinner, cooked on the hotplate in our (teeny) Airbnb.

We got off to a later start the next morning, but our day was no less busy than the one prior. First up was the Musée d'Orsay, mainly to see the Van Goghs. We ended up spending more time there than we'd anticipated, getting caught up in the Impressionism exhibit and debating whether certain forms of art were truly "art." 

After a lunch break that culminated with a créme brûlée (I may have let my sweet tooth get a little bit out of control), Evan and I made our way back to the Lourve. Luckily the Paris Museum Pass allows for unlimited entry into the museums, because in our childishness the night before, it had completely slipped our minds that the world's most famous painting--listed by Business Insider as one of the most disappointing attractions in Europe--is also housed in the Lourve. So we followed the steady stream of museum-goers into the Italian paintings wing of the Denon gallery, where we were unimpressed by that enigmatic smile. 

He's better at the enigmatic smile than I am.

Now that the Mona Lisa was checked off our bucket lists, we reprised our Snapchat performance of the night before, this time in the Greek statues wing, and showed ourselves out via the Egyptian jewelry exhibit.

Since the sun had set while we were in the museum, the moment that we walked out the doors we could see the Eiffel Tower all lit up. Evan and I decided that it was time we made our tourist pilgrimage to the top. (After all, if you didn't go up in the Eiffel Tower, did you really go to Paris?) We had planned to take the stairs, in the interest of saving a few Euros and burning some calories, but found out upon arrival at the tower that they don't allow people to use the stairs after dark. Safety concerns or something---psh.

So after a chilly forty-five minutes in line, and going through not one, but two security checks, we caught an elevator up to the tippity-top of that iconic ironwork. What a breathtaking view! (Partially because of the wind at that height, but also because it was gorgeous.)

We were even up in the tower when it sparkled, which it does on the hour, every hour that it's illuminated. (Pretty dazzling from far away, but has kind of a strobe-light effect when you're up close and personal.)

It was the best possible way to cap off our last night staying in the city.

After breakfast the next morning, we packed up our things and, weighed down by our backpacks, headed off to see the Eiffel Tower one more time. On our way, we stopped to grab some macarons and croissants. 

I mean, just look at that.

It was a gorgeous day, and so we spent most of it outside, sitting on a bench near the Eiffel Tower and walking through the luxury shopping district and the Christmas market on Champs Elyssés. As darkness fell, Evan and I hopped on a train to Osny, a town a bit northwest of Paris; some friends of Evan's family had invited us to stay with them for a couple of nights.

I was a little nervous, simply because of the language barrier--would it just be awkward silences around the dinner table?--but I had no need to be. Between their son's bit of English and Evan's bit of French (and, okay, a little help from Google Translate), we had a very enjoyable time together. I even managed to pick up a bit of French, simply by being immersed in it! 

Je m'apelle Jess.

On Sunday, after a lovely breakfast including--yes--pain au chocolats, Evan and I took a train to Versailles to see the palace (another attraction that was free with our magic cards). On the ride there, I somehow managed to lose my train ticket out of my ZIPPERED pocket (and I know I had it because Evan watched me put it there), so I had to slip out of the turnstile right behind Evan when he put his ticket in the scanner. 

Arriving at the palace without further incident (only a slight detour through a farmers' market), we were delighted to discover no line at the entrance--one of the perks of traveling during the off-season. Evan and I passed on the audioguides that most of the other visitors had picked up, opting instead to gape at each opulent room to the sound of our own commentary: "How many rooms do you freaking need?"

In the Hall of Mirrors

The gardens were just as mind-bogglingly expansive as the palace, if not more so. After about an hour of wandering through meticulously tended shrubs, gravel paths, and water features, we stumbled upon Petit Trianon, the palace known best as the residence of Marie-Antionette. Our Paris Museum Pass and student ID were proving to be very useful, as they got us in there as well. 

Petit Trianon is a palace of much more manageable proportions than Versailles itself. It is undoubtedly still an extremely luxurious home, but far more tasteful in terms of size and décor. It was possible to imagine a person actually living there.

As we began to meander back towards the train station, the skies opened up. To escape the rain, we took refuge in a café for coffee. Once the liquid sunshine stopped falling, we bought tickets for the next train back to Osny, and I immediately handed my ticket to Evan to hold on to. I wasn't chancing a repeat of the last disappearing act. 

We returned to our hosts' home to find that they had prepared raclette for dinner. If you remember way back to when I was in Switzerland, you'll recall that it's basically reverse fondue, and one of my new favorite foods. So I was pretty darn happy. I was even happier when they topped off the meal with homemade créme brûlée. YUM. 

Between the wonderful food and the wonderful hosts, who made me feel very welcome in spite of the language differences, I was pretty sad to say goodbye the next morning. But Evan and I were off to Rennes, my last stop in France!