Yes. It’s as romantic as you always imagined it to be, especially if you’re traveling with your significant other. There is a certain je ne sais quoi quality about Paris. A mix of wonder and lust tied together by the rich history of France. So rich in fact, that when you walk down any street, it’s hard not to question what year it really is. I’d love to tell you about my short-lived, but blissful stay in Paris. The first stop of what would end up turning into a month-long European trip. I recommend making yourself a café latte and snuggling under a soft blanket as we voyage into my memories of the City of Light.
The Arrival.
John and I arrived in Paris via FlixBus — certainly not the fastest way of transport, but definitely the most economical. All together we paid a total of 6.99 euros each, including checking-in my ridiculously heavy luggage. Our backcountry road trip from the northern town of Lille to Paris took about three hours. The Bercy-Seine stop is located under a dark and damp bridge. Part of me felt for John, this was his first introduction to the most elegant city in the world and this arrival did not embody the spirit of Paris in the slightest. With that said, this unassuming setting would soon unroll into a mind-blowing experience. Let me tell you, the traffic in Paris is reserved strictly for people with unlimited patience. I learned this lesson during Haute Couture Fashion Week while trying to navigate from venue to venue in an Uber at a snail’s pace. So, with that in mind, we decided to give our sanity and wallets a break by walking to our hotel on foot.
We walked along the Seine, a narrow waterway that carved a winding path into the heart of the city. Its series of bridges crossed the water from north to south providing thousands of people safe passage across. I didn’t want John to have the full effect of the Seine just yet, I had something special in mind. So, for now, we crossed the street and followed our GPS to a tiny boutique hotel called Hotel de France Gare de Lyon Bastille. The place was small but quaint. Vintage wallpaper decorated the interior of the building from head to toe. Our room opened up to a white Juliet balcony from which we could see the bustling street below. Although we were incredibly tired from the commute, time was of the essence. I’ve waited 26 years to meet Mona Lisa and I wasn’t about to waste a second longer. Off to the Louvre.
The Louvre Museum.
It’s hard to describe this experience into words, but I’ll do my best to do it justice. We got off at a metro stop with the most wonderful name Palais Royal Musée du Louvre. Rising from the courtyard, a thick pyramid structure was visible, radiating the sunlight from its glass surfaces. Beneath was the museum’s lobby. Surprisingly enough, there was no line up to purchase tickets. Probably because the museum closed in two hours. If you’re looking to avoid the usual absurd amount of tourists, go later in the day. The home to the Venus de Milo, The Winged Victory of Samothrace also known as Nike, European pastels and Egyptian treasures was ours to explore. The place was grand, of course, if you’re looking to experience it visually check out the virtual tour I filmed while there.
There are three distinct memories that were forever engraved in my brain about that day. The first one was my experience of discovering a famous ancient Greek statue. After unsuccessfully looking through the galleries, I asked the museum’s guide where in the world was Venus de Milo? He looked at me with warm eyes, a knowing smile spread across his lips as he said, “turn around dear.” There she was, in all her glorious marble flesh. Aphrodite, the Greek goddess of love and beauty. I still remember the squeeze of delight my heart gave in that very moment.
The second memory was experiencing Mona Lisa. I can’t say that it was as enjoyable as Venus de Milo. Remember I said the museum was empty? Well, that’s because the majority of the tourists were all getting acquainted with Mona Lisa. Despite the suffocating crowds, it was still a once in a lifetime moment seeing her for the very first time. It’s true what they say, she is a petite little thing. A sense of mystery exuded from the dark background of the painting. I wish I had more time to visually explore her, but the shoving sea of people all around made it impossible. The third moment was my first time looking at a statue of a Black person. An ancient Roman statue that did not depict a Black man as a salve. Instead, his meticulously carved black marble body was draped in a beautiful tunic, one reserved for royalty. With one final look back, we said goodbye to Louvre and explored the never-ending grand gardens outside of the building until the sun set over the city.
The House of Guerlain.
One of the reasons why we were in the city in the first place was for a special invitation for a private tour of one of the oldest French perfume, cosmetics and skincare houses in the world: The House of Guerlain. I didn’t know it at the time, but the brand would soon become a favourite of mine. Our day began with a stroll down the world’s most beautiful avenue, Champs-Elysées. It was a warm spring day and the sun gently caressed the sandstone coloured shops around us. Avenue des Champs-Elyséees is truly a postcard-perfect sight. Stretching two kilometres in length, the bustling street leads you right down to the monumental Arc de Triomphe. The pathway to the arc is full of renowned French retailers, luxury brands, and sophisticated coffee shops. Nestled among them, a legendary address by the name of 68 Champs-Elyséees came into view. The Guerlain flagship store is a must-visit destination for anyone who appreciates the finer things in life. The same architect that designed the Ritz hotel in Paris and the Carlton in London, Charles Mewès, was the brain behind this marvelous store.
Our tour began at the cosmetics lobby, or should I say every make-up lover’s dream space. Hundreds of lipsticks, foundations and eye shadows stretched out along a glass beauty counter. Fun fact: the brand’s founder, Pierre François Pascal Guerlain revolutionized the beauty industry by creating the first modern-day lipstick. Before that, lip tint came in liquid or cream form distributed in flasks and jars. The only way to apply it was by dabbing a finger or a small brush into the formula and onto the lips. Guerlain’s original invention of a stick housed in its own tube is the reason why we enjoy a mess-free lipstick application method. On the second floor of the store, we discovered a glass display with the original tube design.
Following our tour guide along, we entered an unforgettable perfumery room. I can’t remember any other time in my life where I was starstruck other than this moment. Frozen in place, with my eye wide open, I took a second to process the beauty before me. Rising from the floor like a massive…and I mean massive…golden lotus flower was the perfumer’s organ. A majestic display of fragrances once enjoyed by the high society of Europe including Napoleon III and his wife Empress Eugénie, Queen Victoria and Queen Isabella II of Spain and so many others. The royal’s scents of choice were all there, perfectly preserved. Among them were the modern-day fragrances created by the fifth in-house perfumer Thierry Wasser. After the visual shock wore off, I began to spray and sniff my way through the display. Here are perfumes that stood out the most: Lui, a unisex scent that blurred gender boundaries; Shalimar Extract, a love story between an emperor and an Indian princess captured in a bottle of perfume; Myrrhe & Délires, a taste of forbidden delights in liquid form; the Acqua Allegoria collection, new and light like a crisp spring day. They were all wonderful, but nothing compared to the Eau de Cashmere — a unisex fragrance with soft, powdery notes of iris and lavender. I might be overly dramatic here, but this is the kind of scent you want to experience before you die…it’s incredible. I loved it so much that the brand ended up generously gifting me a bottle. To this day, I do not leave the house without it.
We reluctantly left the perfumery room to discover the rest of the building. We took the elevator up to the spa, where guests enjoy “made-to-measure” exclusive skin treatments. Unfortunately, John and I did not get to experience them but it’s a bucket list item for the next time we visit the city. Sixty-eight Champs-Elysées is a place of wonder, an opportunity to drench all your senses into Parisian craftsmanship and luxury. I cannot recommend a more worthwhile visit.
The City Stroll.
With influencer work behind us, we were free to explore the city to its fullest. We stepped back onto the energetic boulevard of Champs-Elysées, setting our sights on the iconic Arc de Triomphe. I’m not sure what possessed me to give my phone to a total stranger for a cringy, touristy photo, but I’m glad I did. This moment deserved to be documented. After John and I had our dose of the archway, we stopped at a nearby paper shop to purchase vintage postcards for our families and advanced towards Notre-Dame de Paris. The monument towered over bright orange tape, barricades, construction vehicles and reporter vans. Seeing this marvel of gothic architecture, its giant bell towers wounded by the fire was a sad sight to see. We took in as much as we could before embarking on a peaceful walk along the Parc Rives de Seine. We strolled along the waterways, excitedly chatting about nothing and everything, eating a fresh baguette and a bright assortment of macarons that we got at a nearby bakery. Without realizing it, we stumbled upon the famous Pont des Arts or more notably known as the Lock Bridge in Paris. Legend has it…that if two lovers write their name on a padlock, attach it to the bridge’s railing and throw away the keys into the Seine River, their love becomes eternal. It’s not every day one gets a chance to immortalize a relationship. We purchased a permanent marker, lock, and key from a nearby vendor and claimed our spot along the railing. John and I stood across each other, grinning as we flicked the key into the river… As far as cheesy traditions are concerned our love is locked forever.
The First Soufflé.
Before I left on my exchange semester to France, John made me promise him one thing: under no circumstance, am I to try a soufflé until our reunion after my studies. Four months later, I made good on that promise. The endless selection of every-flavour imaginable macarons, mouth-watering salmon baguettes and perfectly baked croissants kept me distracted until his arrival. What does a good man do when he wants to take his girl to the best soufflé place in Paris? He turns to Vogue. As recommended by the bible of all things fine taste, we followed a cobblestone path to a corner restaurant called Le Récamier. I should mention that a few years back, Sasha and Malia Obama visited this very restaurant to taste the air-light, fluffy French dish. If it’s good enough for them, it was more than good enough for us. Exactly as described in the Vogue article, the interior radiated a quiet-like, Zen atmosphere. The menu was filled with all kinds of savoury and sweet delicacies including lobster, mushroom, pistachio and caramel. I wanted my first time trying the dish to be as authentic as possible, so we opted for traditional French flavours: cheese to start and dark chocolate to finish. Let me tell you something, there are very few moments in life that are unforgettable… Trying these soufless was the kind of experience that will make you count your blessings. Twice. Ever since I took a bite of the soft, pillowy texture of Le Récamier’s master piece souffle, the foodie in me began to chase a dining experience that could top this moment. So far, nothing has come close.
The Eiffel Tower Climb.
With only about 12 hours left in the City of Lights, there was one last discovery we needed to make: the top of La Tour Eiffel. Before gaining access to the most iconic landmark in Paris, one must go through a security check not unlike the airport. The procedure is easy enough: we stepped through a metal detector, our belongings were scanned and a security personnel asked us a couple of questions about our visit (in English, thankfully). There is an indescribable feeling that you get at the base of the Iron Lady. She is tall, elegant and ever-divine. It seems as though all the gardens, galleries, palaces, theatres, opera houses and every other architectural wonder in
Paris stems from her. More than anything in the world, I wanted to climb the Eiffel Tower by foot. Four months prior, I warned John that this was a bucket list item of mine. He was ready to check it off with me. We quickly found out that there is no way to climb all 1665 steps from the base to the top. Unfortunately, the stairway from the second floor to the tower’s peak is closed to the public at all times. Nonetheless, the 674 steps from the base to the second floor is nothing to scoff at. We purchased our “stairway + lift” tickets at the southside leg of the tower and entered the iron structure to begin our climb.
At first, the tight, cage-like upwards climb feels a little claustrophobic. The feeling quickly dissolves when you begin to notice the whole city unfold beyond the railings. Every so often we would notice the numbers signaling exactly how many steps we’ve done. We reached the
observatory deck on the first floor — the halfway point of our climb. I grabbed John’s hand and led him to a tourist-free area, where we took in the marvelous textures of tiled rooftops from above. We took a small rest break before finishing the rest of the climb. An emotional flood
rushed over me as I found myself taking the 674th step and fulfilling a life-long dream. The second floor was even more breathtaking! The sun was just beginning to set, casting a soft glow over Paris. I was determined to catch the twilight at the very top. We wasted no time and jumped on the first elevator up! Maybe it was the rush of experiencing something I’ve only seen through a TV screen, maybe it was the anticipation of the view, or maybe it was the fact that I decided to climb one of the world’s tallest structures out of shape…I felt like my heart was beating quick enough to fall right out of my chest. The sun setting over the Parisian horizon left me in tears. I tried to FaceTime my mom and my brothers to experience this moment with me but of course in a typical manner…they didn’t pick up. Bathing in the moment unfolding before us, I turned to John and gave him the deepest kiss. Nothing could make this moment more perfect.
Every night, from sundown to 1 a.m. the tower bursts into a million and one golden sparkles. Everything about that day was serendipitous, so of course by the time we took the lift down it was just time for the nocturnal Eiffel Tower Light Show to begin. We took a seat at a nearby
park bench and watched as an ocean of glittering lights covered the city’s greatest monument. A shimmering delight, the Iron Lady glowed like an elegant ornament placed upon the city — spectacular and completely unforgettable.
