The grey Parisian rooftops outside my hotel room.
The smell of cigarettes filled my breathing space as I relaxed in the back seat of the Uber. My pooling partner and the driver were smoking out the window, sharing lively conversation my out of practice French comprehension couldn't pick up. As I inhaled the secondhand smoke, I mentally took note of intriguing sights to explore around the 9th arrondissement and beyond. I had forty-eight free hours in Paris before my weekend trip came to a close, and for once in my life I didn't have a single plan set in stone. I was up until near dawn the night I landed preparing my itinerary for the next day, but I believe it payed off. Besides, there’s nothing under eye concealer can't fix!
My Saturday began with a walk to the Palais Royal gardens. The greenery was beautiful, but the striking monochrome sculpture garden is what makes the landmark well known. Professional and amateur photo shoots were already in full swing, and a few children were playing on their scooters, curving through the linear paths. I’m sure those children will never know how lucky they were to have their playdates in the former royal gardens! From there I promenaded my way to the Eiffel Tower. As cliché as it may sound, I feel that a trip to Paris isn't truly complete without a visit to the iconic structure.
The sculpture garden at the Palais Royal.
My first visit to the city was in 2011. It was not only my first time in France, but also my first trip to Europe. I was with my mom, and she had taken a photo of me in front of the construction dates of the tower. My mission that day was to recreate it. However, locating the statue bearing the construction dates proved to be harder to find than I remembered it. This may have been due to the extreme amount of security surrounding the base of the tower. This wasn't present when I was there six years ago, but now blockades of checkpoints surround the perimeter. I understand the reasoning behind it considering the increase in terrorism over the past few years, and this didn’t damper the experience for me. Still, knowing what it was like before proves that it is a sign our world is heading in a fearful direction.
The Eiffel Tower from afar.
After capturing the parallel shot that my mom wanted for her collection, I stopped for a crȇpe break and some nostalgia at Cafe Ribe. Just a short distance from the Eiffel Tower, we came here every morning during our weeklong stay in 2011 at the Pullman Paris across the street. A quintessential Parisian cafe, they have a variety of offerings that can be consumed indoors, or at their sidewalk tables when the weather permits.
When I was last in town, it was one of the last few weeks before I had stopped eating meat. I had forgotten about that and how ingrained eating meat was in Parisian food culture. Thankfully, this cafe had plenty of vegetarian options. I found another veggie friendly place in Le Marais, a historic district in the 3rd/4th arrondissement. The colorful interior made it a perfect place for a quick bite on the sunny spring-like day. I had the soup of the day (kale and grains) and an almond matcha latte (surprised? Nah, didn’t think so). They had a large selection of vegan pastries and fresh juices as well, which were tempting, but I moved on without a taste of those.
The exterior of Cafe Ribe, showing off their sunbathed outdoor seating.
I lingered for a bit in Le Marais window-shopping, and I was making my way out of the area when I crossed paths with the Museé de Picasso. It was near closing time, but luckily my current London address allowed me to enjoy my short time at the museum without an entry fee. While I’m not sure how Brexit will effect this in the future, the qualification is that you need a residential address in a country within the EU, and be under the age of 26. With this you can gain entry to many cultural locations in Paris without forking over any cash!
Street scenes from Le Marais.
In all honesty, my time admiring Picasso’s work was just a pit stop before more food. I was in the city of culinary artists, so I can’t really be put at fault here! Also, the well-to-do spot, Angelina, was recommended to me by many, so it was a must. A chain of restaurants specializing in artisan pastries and their world-famous hot chocolate, most of Angelina’s locations are in museum gardens or other aesthetically pleasing areas. The location I visited was in the Luxembourg Garden, and I dined on the creamy truffle ravioli with a glass of rosé. Although the portion was healthy, I still had room to try the rich hot chocolate, which is more like chocolate soup. It is served with a small pitcher of warm milk to thin the thick beverage out while enhancing the flavor.
Rich hot chocolate at Angelina.
After dinner, I rushed off to the musical version of Les Choristes. I was introduced to this heartwarming story on film during my high school french class and have loved it ever since. When I found out that not only was there a musical version that went live less than a month before my visit, but also that the theatre was a two minute walk from my hotel I knew I had to see it. I’d checked for tickets when I first arrived at Charles de Gaulle, but they were (unsurprisingly) sold out all weekend. However, during my late Friday night planning session, something prompted me to check one last time, and miraculously three tickets were available for the Saturday night showing. Who would give up their seats for a sold out show is beyond me, but it made my weekend! The theatre itself (Theatre Des Folies Bergere) was beautiful; hints of baroque-style decor adorned the lobby. I took my seat and waited till the lights dimmed, then listened intently to the french dialogue that was filled with humorous jests and tearjerking lines for two and a half hours. As expected, the children’s harmonic voices are what stood out the most. The sets were impressive too, and the plot was true to the original story. Overall it was a fantastic experience.
A looming, but pretty chandelier in the lobby of Theatre Des Folies Bergere.
The next morning I dressed to the nines and headed to Versailles. In retrospect, wearing heels was not my most clever idea, but it surely didn’t ruin my time in the opulent place. My favorite room was the Hall of Mirrors, It is romanticized by extravagant chandeliers hanging in rows along the ceiling, and due to a succession of mirrors placed along the wall, the corridor appears spacious. A thing truly out of fairytales. The gardens were lovely as well, but I’m sure they’re a flooring sight when in bloom during the warmer months.
The beautiful Hall of Mirrors at Versailles.
Prancing around Versailles in stilettos. Why Yasmin, why?
After retracing the footsteps of Marie Antoinette and the Sun King for a few hours, I made my way back into town and decided to treat myself to a few goodies from the pharmacy. If you’re in the know in regards to skincare, it is no secret that some of the best products are sold in French pharmacies. The tricky thing is, there are A LOT of products. Luckily, the key to navigating these skincare goldmines is doing your research beforehand and listening to the staff. Unlike most American pharmacies, the employees at the French equivalents are knowledgeable about the products that they sell - some are even dermatologists. I went in with a list of four products, and while I did get three of them, a staff member stopped me from purchasing my last item, and instead kindly (but purposefully) directed me towards a similar product that would be better for my skin.
In the end, I walked out with the the following arsenal: Nuxe’s Rêve de Miel, Avène’s Eu Thermal, Hormeta’s HORME™MAT Anti-Shine Creme with Tea Tree Oil, and Embryolisse’s Lait-Crème Concentré. I understand not everyone wants to be subjected to my skincare rants, and thus, you can read all about how these products revolutionized my beauty routine under the “Face Value” tab (click here).
That night was my last in the City of Lights, so I definitely wanted to make the most of the time I had left. I treated myself to a dinner at the lovely Le Train Bleu. Located in Gare du Lyon train station, the restaurant was classified as a historical monument in 1972. It is decorated with chandeliers, ornate carvings, and frescoes, and their fare correlates with this extravagant display. Their only vegetarian dish was spectacular, and I opted for their “Very Vanilla” and a glass of Sauternes wine for dessert, both of which were also amazing. All of the staff that I encountered were so helpful and friendly; I’d definitely return next time I’m in town!
Although it was getting late, I decided to fit in one more activity for the day, and went to the Palais de Tokyo, a modern art museum that opens until midnight almost every day. I’ve never been in a museum that was nearly empty before; it was a surreal experience. I feel that the art affected me more than it would if I had been there with other people, especially the exhibits that were in the dark or involved media.
The illuminated sign of Palais de Tokyo.
I headed back to my hotel after exploring the museum and a few minutes before bed, I sat on my mini balcony and admired the grey Parisian rooftops cast in shadows of the night. I feel similarly about Paris as I do about New York City; it is impossible to grow tired of an urban setting where everything, at every time, is beautiful. Just like New York, I won’t ever tire of Paris.
In the morning I bid Paris adieu, but not before a decadent breakfast of mille-feuille and hot chocolate at Cafe de la Paix. My fabulous roommate back in New York, Ecem, suggested I visit this eatery because it was one she used to enjoy when she was studying in France. It lived up to its expectations, but I do wish I was able to share that meal with her. I boarded my flight back to London a few hours later, and although it was disappointing to leave, it was nice to know that for the moment I was only about an hour’s flight away if I needed another Parisian escape. I’ll be back soon Paris, remember me.
My indulgent start to the day at Cafe de la Paix.