Travel

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Paris Woot-Woots and Womp-Womps

Oh hi. Yes, we did go to Paris several weeks ago and I am only just now getting around to posting about it. We had a terrific trip and I am still basking in the glow of what really couldn’t have been a more perfect vacation. 

If you are looking for gorgeous photos of Paris sites, please refer to Elisabeth’s blog; she was in Paris right before we arrived, and in fact overlapped with us for one day, during which I got to meet her and her family in person!!!! (As with every blogger I’ve had the luck to meet in person or via zoom, she is both exactly like she is on her blog and also somehow more delightful and more beautiful offline.)                   

If you’re looking for some hot tips about what was good and what wasn’t good about our visit, you are in the right place. Below, I’ve lined up my landslides and letdowns.

Woot! Woot!s

My husband. Oh my goodness, my husband is a ROCKSTAR. He planned the entire trip, securing our plane, train, and Metro tickets; finding a hotel; researching when and how to obtain entry to the sites we wanted to see; planning day trips and booking travel to and from each city; creating an itinerary that hit all our must-sees without overloading us; securing tickets at the ideal times on the ideal days for each site; figuring out what to do about cell phone service while we were in Europe; and then getting us to each place in the most efficient and pleasant way possible each day. It was so much work and I did none of it. All I had to do during the planning stages was occasionally weigh in on things, suggest potential activities, and offer moral support. All I had to do during the trip itself was show up. It was fabulous. I don’t think I could ever have come up with such a well-planned vacation on my own. Oh also: his French is leaps and bounds ahead of mine, and at one restaurant, the server asked us where we were from. (I find this a difficult question to answer, by the way. I feel like we wear our Americanness like a glaring red-white-and-blue baseball jersey. I always want to respond with the name of our state, but my husband always simply says, “We’re from the United States.” That does seem to do the trick.) When he told this server we were from the States, she shook her head in disbelief and said, “But your French is so good! Your pronunciation is excellent.” Way to go, husband! 

On the train!

Carla. You guys, Carla was a superstar traveler. From the instant we left the house to the moment we returned to the States, she was excited, curious, eager, and game for anything. She loved all the museums we visited. She enthusiastically listened to a (quite long and somewhat boring) audio tour of Chateau de Fontainebleau. She put in 7 to 10 miles of walking, from about 7:00 am to 10:00 pm (on average), for eight consecutive days. She ate (some of the) food. She went into every church and cathedral I wanted to peek inside. We had occasional mother/daughter conflicts, but beyond that, she did not whine or complain at all and in fact seemed delighted by and interested in everything we saw. (With the possible exception of the churches. She was into them when we were inside, but when we expressed interest in yet another church, she voted against going in.) I want to go on all the trips with her. (She has suggested Australia as our next big vacation; my husband and I are less enthusiastic, simply because of the lengthy plane ride.) 

AirFrance. We flew AirFrance to and from Paris, and it was a fabulous airline. My husband found a ridiculously good deal on premium economy seats, and I was all set for American-style premium economy, as in, economy seating with slightly more leg room. But no! AirFrance premium economy is just a step below Business Class! We got to hang out in the AirFrance lounge before our flight. We got priority access to the security line and priority boarding. We got pillows and blankets and cute little dopp kits each way, we got Champagne just after each takeoff. We had nice roomy seats that lay back. It was one of the best flying experiences I’ve ever had. 

Our Louvre Tour Guide. We decided that we wanted a tour guide for the Louvre, because a) it’s so big and overwhelming, and b) we wanted to skip the line. My husband found a tour company online (don’t ask me how; he did a ton of research) who offered a three hour “Louvre highlights” tour with a maximum of six people. Our guide was so sweet and knowledgeable. He showed us a great mix of the heavy hitters (the Mona Lisa, the Winged Victory, the Venus de Milo, and others) and less popular but still impressive paintings and sculptures. Then Carla wanted to explore more of the Egyptian wing, which we’d glimpsed at the beginning of the tour, and we found a few other things my husband and I were interested in seeing, and then we were done. We got to skip the long lines to get into the museum, we got to see a nice mix of artwork, and we didn’t get overwhelmed or lost. I would totally do a guided tour again.

Strasbourg. One of our day trips was to Strasbourg, and oh, what a charming city! We had uncharacteristically sunny warm weather, and had a wonderful time seeing the cathedral and exploring the city via a Rick Steves guided walk. We stopped for an outdoor lunch alongside a canal where I had the most delicious spaetzle with mushrooms paired with a crisp and summery local Riesling. 

The Eiffel Tower. My husband and I were happy to take Carla to the Eiffel Tower, because it was her top priority for the trip. But he and I wouldn’t have gone without her. I wasn’t exactly dreading it, but I wasn’t looking forward to it either. (By the way, if you want to skip the big line without paying ridiculously overpriced fees for a “skip the line guide,” you have to get tickets exactly 60 days in advance, at midnight Paris time. I am very grateful to my husband for figuring this out and staying up to get the tickets!) Carla wanted to go all the way to the top of the Eiffel Tower, and I’m not a huge fan of heights, and I already did the Eiffel Tower a million years ago with my high school French class. But oh was it ever worth it! I should have known by now that an experience completely transforms when I see it through Carla’s eyes. She was excited and quite nervous about the height and yet so determined to make it work. We had perfect weather, we had glorious views, and Carla loved it. The Eiffel Tower wowed again when we saw it from the top of the Arc de Triomphe at night. At dusk, the whole tower lights up, but then it also sparkles every hour on the hour for about five minutes. My husband took a video of the instant the sparkle started and he caught Carla’s face when she saw it and it was priceless. One of those moments I think I will remember forever. I hope she remembers it too.

Art!: I have had the immense privilege of visiting the Louvre, the Musee d’Orsay, the Pompidou Centre, and many other art museums in Paris and around the world. This trip, we went to the Louvre and the Musee d’Orsay and I kind of expected the experience to feel a little “same old, same old.” But it wasn’t. I found the museums so moving. Some of the art we saw was three thousand years old! Can you imagine? That people so separate from us in time and manner and lifestyle felt the same drive to create? That other people saw these creations and deemed them valuable enough to save, over millennia? That still other people erected buildings for the sole purpose of housing these works? That millions of people flock to monuments to art to see these ancient and modern creations to this day? It feels so precious and human, this desire to create, to translate experience and emotion into marble or paint so that someone else might know it too. 

Our Hotel. We picked our hotel purely because it had a separate but connected room for Carla. The rooms were massive for Paris, giving us plenty of privacy. We each had a mini fridge that the staff refilled with complementary waters and sodas and juice each day. The beds were comfy, the rooms were pretty quiet. The showers had very decent water pressure, and very minimal temperature issues. The staff were friendly and helpful and the hotel and surrounding neighborhood felt safe. We were within easy walking distance of several Metro stops. The main floor of the hotel doubled as a breakfast restaurant, and we were able to use the tables and microwave in the restaurant space on the evenings we didn’t make it out to dinner. It wasn’t fancy and it wasn’t right in the middle of all the Paris action, but it was comfortable and spacious and suited our needs perfectly.

Paris Fashion. While I was arrayed in stereotypical American Middle Aged Mom Wear, I got to admire all the extremely fashionable Parisiennes strolling around the city. The in-style, insofar as I can tell, is something along the lines of wide-legged jeans paired with an ankle-skimming black trench coat. The coats have belts, but are rarely worn belted. I did not see a specific single type of footwear – there was everything from heels to boots to sneakers. I do think the sneakers were mainly white; I didn’t see a lot of bright colors. Hairstyles, as in the US, seem to veer toward the long and lightly wavy. Everyone was impossibly chic, which I suppose is de rigueur for Paris. I would have gladly sat at an outdoor café all day long, watching all the beautiful people live their lives. 

Rick Steves. I would be remiss not to give a shoutout to good ol’ Ricky, who provided many restaurant recommendations, pinpointed bathroom opportunities, suggested multiple points of interest, and created interesting, detailed walks for us to follow.

Womp Womps

Bruxelles. None of us had ever been to Belgium before, and Brussels is within my range of acceptability for day trips (two hours), so we decided to go. I had no preconceptions, and I’m kind of glad because I fear it would have been a disappointment. On the pros side, our train trip was easy, we had good weather, and the city is beautiful. On the cons side, I have never been to a busier, more crowded place in all my life. There is an adorable main square in the old town and it was crammed with people. CRAMMED. Everywhere was jammed with tourists. Even though our surroundings were lovely, I felt overstimulated and panicky and overwhelmed. I felt like I couldn’t let go of Carla for an instant, or she would be swept away by a tide of tourists. Even when we left the old town to explore some of the area up-hill, there were still crowds and crowds of people. The touristy sites weren’t particularly noteworthy, either. I mean, the Grand Place was impressive, but the Manneken Pis was tiny and dressed in a firefighter costume, the Royal Quarter was under construction, Jeanneke Pis was tucked into the end of a narrow alley full of drunk college students, the Atomium was too far away for us to visit during our quick visit, and the local food was both stressful and disappointing. I’m glad I’ve been there, but I can’t say I enjoyed it very much at all. The best part was probably the random cat we met, hanging out and accepting pets outside a restaurant. I know it was a highlight for Carla. Not just of Brussels, but of the entire trip.

My Skin. The combination of traveling, eating a bunch of restaurant meals, and spending all day walking and sweating was not kind to my face. I had horrible breakouts pretty much every day. 

eSIM. My husband and I decided that it made the most sense for him to pay the daily rate ($12, I think?) to maintain his regular phone service while we were in Europe. He had to be available in case of urgent work issues, plus he had all the details of the trip on his phone and he is hands down the better photographer. But we also decided that I would get an eSIM while we were away. It’s hard to remember why, now, because it turned out to be so useless. I think partly because we wanted to have a French phone number for Carla to keep on her person in case she got separated from us. In any event, it sucked. I had horrible service almost the entire time. It kept cutting in and out and even when it worked, websites took forever to load, if they ever did. We did use it twice, to make dinner reservations. (I called a French restaurant and made the reservation myself, in French!) But other than that, it was a waste of money. 

WiFi. Our hotel supposedly had WiFi, but it was both patchy and horrible. By this I mean that it was nearly inoperable the entire time I was there – I could not connect to the internet pretty much at all. On the rare occasion when my phone would show a few bars of connectivity, and I would connect to a blog or my email or a news story, it would quickly cut out. Some i-messages worked, but not all; WhatsApp worked occasionally. I could not send photos via text. Between the eSIM and the WiFi, I was usually able to jot out a quick email to my parents about our day, but that was all. I lost my Wordle streak. Oh well. I didn’t really miss my phone, except I would have liked to keep up with everyone’s blogs better. I still feel very behind!

When I weigh the highs against the lows, the highs win by a landslide. It was a wonderful vacation and I feel so grateful that we were able to make it happen, and that everything went so smoothly. (Once again, a major shout out to my husband for ensuring that our experience was so effortless and fun!) 

You may notice that I haven’t talked much about the food. Don’t worry (or, perhaps, do?): I am planning a whole post about the food wins and losses of the trip.

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Truncated Dinners This Week, Picky Eating While Traveling

Last week, I made ONE of the dinners I’d planned. It was a weird week, I guess, where we ate leftovers Monday, got takeout Tuesday, ate takeout leftovers Wednesday, and went out to dinner Friday.

Thursday, instead of making one of the pre-planned meals, I pulled some pork chops out of the freezer, baked them in my favorite easy sauce, and paired them with brown rice and some broccoli that was on the verge of going bad. Saturday, finally, I got it together enough to make sheet pan veggie shawarma… but it wasn’t as good as it was the first time. Maybe because I forgot to include a red bell pepper? (My husband kept saying, “Wasn’t there more to this last time?” He thought I’d chopped up a sweet potato in the original, which does sound good. Maybe I threw in a zucchini? Yes, according to photographic evidence I did indeed add a zucchini. DON’T SKIP THE ZUCCHINI NEXT TIME.) Sunday, I made tacos.

This week is going to be weird in a different way: one or more of us has evening activities every single night this week, so dinner is going to be challenging to execute. I think tonight I’m going to make the slow cooker BBQ pulled pork I didn’t make last week, and then… play it by ear the rest of the week. I can always make chicken tacos in the crockpot if I need to.

In startling food news, I bought two heads of cauliflower so that I could wash it all at once, use half for the shawarma, and the other half for snacking. I put a few tiny florets of (raw) cauliflower on Carla’s plate the other night and she exclaimed, “What IS this white broccoli? It’s so good!” and requested more. Then yesterday she was feeling snacky after dinner, so I suggested cauliflower, and she thought that was a great idea. This morning, I noticed that the ENTIRE BAG of cauliflower had been emptied. I’m not complaining! Snacking on cauliflower is preferable to snacking on Cheez Its, in my book.

P.S., Carla 100% has seen and tried cauliflower before, and knows what it is and what it’s called.

As you can perhaps intuit from the above, Carla is still quite a picky eater. I’ve (mostly) stopped fretting about it, but I do sometimes fret about it.

Currently, my frets center around a trip we have planned for later this year. We are going to Europe, which will be Carla’s first time overseas. We are all very excited. And I am also pre-anxious that she will simply not eat anything while we’re gone. Sure, she could probably survive on pastries and ice cream alone, but I don’t really want my child to develop scurvy. (How long does it take to develop scurvy or other signs of malnourishment?) My husband is convinced that we’ll be able to find steak frites everywhere, and I am hopeful that we can find salmon on many menus (and that we can persuade our servers to serve said salmon sans sauce). But I am concerned that even familiar things, like steak and salmon, will be just different enough that Carla will find them inedible.

My mother likes to tell a story about my own first time in Europe. I was eight, which is quite a bit younger than Carla will be during our trip, but I was also very picky. My mother said that I was eating so little that she finally gave in and took me to a McDonald’s. I can only imagine how intensely it pained her to do so. She was desperate to get some food into me, she said, and she knew I would eat a McDonald’s hamburger, and she figured McDonald’s hamburgers were the same all over the world.

Alas, the menu apparently referred to this particular delicacy as a beef burger and – as it was not a hamburger – I refused to eat it.

(Carla, who helped stir the ground beef as it was browning last night, said, “This smells like steak!” and I had to share the apparently shocking revelation that tacos and steak come from the same source.) (I do not think this was new information to her, any more than I think I ever believed a hamburger was made with anything besides beef.)

There is a happy ending to my story, at least. During our trip, I fell in love with two separate cuisines: in Paris, I learned how to love simple green salads (is salad a cuisine? probably not) and in London, I experienced a life-changing introduction to Indian food.  

I have hope that Carla will fall in love with something beyond croissants… but I don’t have confidence.

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Staying in Hotels

We stayed in eleven hotels over the course of our Road Trip! and so I feel as though I have some very recent expertise in What Hotels Are Like Lately. (By the way, because my husband is a Credit Card Rewards Black Belt, we stayed in nine of them for FREE.) (Or, as I like to point out, for points, which is not quite the same as free, although my husband vehemently disagrees with me.)

First of all, I want to acknowledge that it is clear the hospitality industry is struggling. The hotels we stayed at ALL seemed to have staffing issues, and I know this is a nationwide problem, and that it is affecting the hotels and the people who do work there much more than it is affecting me. Aside from one receptionist who stalked straight past me and another hotel guest without saying “I’ll be with you in a minute” or even glancing at us, the hotel personnel we encountered were friendly and helpful and doing the absolute BEST they could. 

Don’t get me wrong! I am glad hotels exist. I vastly prefer a hotel to, say, staying on the floor of a friend’s house or finding an AirBnB or sleeping in my car or renting an RV. But for all their benefits, they DO have deficits.

It seems to me that the people who design hotel rooms have never once stayed in a hotel room, or perhaps even A Room of any sort. They are all caught up in The Design – which I acknowledge probably helps draw clients – and not caught up enough in The Usability.

  • I Love Lamp: We had not one but TWO hotel rooms that had a dearth of lamps. In one hotel, we had a two-room suite. There was a bed in each room, with a nightstand near each bed… but only one room/nightstand had a lamp. In the other hotel, there were NO LAMPS AT ALL. Just overhead lighting. Both rooms had overhead lighting, but you had to extinguish the lights from the door, which in both cases was across the room from the bed. While I am aware that furnishing all the rooms in a hotel must be quite pricey, surely a lamp by each bed should have been part of the budget???? 

This photo is a LIE. Straight from the hotel website, it features a DESK LAMP which was not present in our hotel! The lack of bed-adjacent lighting is true-to-life though.
  • Were You Born in a Barn: Hotels are obsessed with barn doors – OBSESSED. Maybe this is the Magnolia Effect in action (although I didn’t see any shiplap), but I am guessing that hotel designers drool all over themselves at this perfect intersection of Trendy and Space-Saving. The majority of our hotels had barn doors for the bathroom. They are lovely, but the thing is that barn doors are gappy. They do not shut as firmly as regular doors do. Which is something I MISS A LOT when I am sharing a very small space with other people and our collective bathroom needs. (P.S. This little marriage saver has accompanied us in Europe and now across the U.S. and I love it.)
One of many barn doors.

  • Party of One: Except for our very last hotel, all of our rooms were meant to hold at least two people. They each had two queen beds, and could have fit up to four people. Four! People! But the rooms are very clearly geared toward ONE PERSON, MAYBE TWO. The nightstands were inevitably between the two beds, so that the person on the outer side of the bed had nowhere to put his/her glasses, phone, watch, books, etc. etc. etc. Several of the lamps – which, when they were provided, were on the shared nightstand – were controlled by a single switch, so that both beds had to agree that it was time for lights out. In our last hotel, the one hotel where we had a king bed (and a sofa bed for Carla shudder), my husband’s side of the bed (he always sleeps on the left) had the nightstand and mine had nothing. Worse: His side of the bed had multiple outlets and mine had… nothing. Other nights, when I wasn’t the lucky one to have a nightstand, I was able to at least plug my phone in next to the bed and set it on the headboard or a window sill or something.

This is the most uncomfortable sofa bed known to man. The “mattress” was a thin layer of cloth stretched so tightly over the springs you could see every single spring. We had to put the couch cushions on top of the “mattress” and then put the sheets over the cushions.
  • Carry In, Carry Out: Hotel rooms have the smallest trash cans I have ever seen. At one hotel, the single trash can was divided into two identical sections – one for trash, one for recycling. The recycling side fit a single plastic water bottle. 

  • No Sleep Til Brooklyn: If you want to control your room’s temperature, you will not sleep. Not one wink. Because the air conditioner/heating unit will roar on at unexpected intervals all night long, clattering and moaning and blasting out air that is at least ten degrees hotter/more frigid than you anticipated until you give up and turn it off and succumb to the ambient air temperature. 

  • Form Over Function: One of our hotels had a beautiful armoire with an interior light that turned on when you opened the doors and a fancy teapot and a mini Nespresso machine. It had neither a refrigerator nor an extra roll of toilet paper. One of our hotels had a gorgeous little coffee station with three pouches of local coffee but it was the hotel with ZERO LAMPS. I would rather have lamps than local coffee. (Side note: the place without the extra toilet paper was also the place with the miniature garbage can. I called down to housekeeping, requesting more toilet paper and a garbage bag. The kind housekeeper showed up with two garbage bags, one mini-sized to fit the trash can, one an enormous lawn-and-leaf sized bag. I took the latter, thanked her, and shut the door… only to realize that I perhaps should have reassured her that nothing horrifying had happened to necessitate my odd combination of requests.)

  • And the SHOWERS. This should technically be part of the previous bullet, but it drives me bonkers enough that it deserves its own. So many showers now have the rainfall shower heads. You know – the ones that stand directly above you and drench you? I cannot STAND those stupid shower heads. You can’t get away from the water! If I want to apply shampoo to my head or face wash to my cheeks, I have to step completely out of the line of fire water and freeze my tuchus completely off to do so. I much prefer the standard shower head. MUCH. Also, hotel shower designers have never taken a shower before. They do not understand that most people need various accessories to help them get clean: soap, shampoo, conditioner. Maybe a razor. Maybe face wash. Maybe body wash. But no. If you shower in a hotel, you are lucky to get one tiny triangular shelf that can barely accommodate a bar of soap and one of the eensy hotel-supplied bottles of shampoo. Unless I am in a hotel that has a bathtub/shower combo, I never know how I’m supposed to shave my legs. My own at-home shower has a little ledge upon which I can rest my foot. But when I’m in a hotel, I have to balance precariously on one foot while I shave the other leg or try to prop it up against the questionably-clean shower wall or bend over and get a mouthful of water while trying to shave. Further proof that hotel designers do not shower: We had one hotel with a BEAUTIFUL shower – fancy stone tiles, rainfall shower head, glass door. Except that there was no door – just a glass panel that went half the length of the shower and then a door-sized open space through which all the cold air of the room could sneak in and shower with you. Perhaps marginally better than the hotels with shower curtains that billow into the shower while you’re washing your hair and play grabby-handsy with your upper thighs, but not by much.  
Rainfall shower head AND a half-panel of glass AND a barn door. The trifecta, achieved!

Other things I have noticed: Almost without exception, housekeeping services are on-demand now – if you stay multiple days and want your trash emptied or your linens changed, you need to call ahead (sometimes up to 24 hours in advance, according to in-elevator signage), whereas this was a daily service in previous years. (I never used to take people up on it – I don’t want housekeepers having to make my bed or tidy things up around my suitcases and toothbrush.) Shampoos and conditioners are TINY now, or that they come in big canisters that are permanently attached inside the showers. Probably an environmentally advantageous move, honestly. Shower caps, much to my enduring dismay, are no longer offered alongside your miniature shampoos and bars of soap.   

On the not-complaining-or-mocking side of things, the people at the hotels were ALL so nice to Carla. So nice. She loved to march up to the desk when we arrived and say, “We’re checking in” as much as she loved handing over the keys at the end of our stays and saying brightly, “We’re checking out.” The hotel staff invariably found her super charming. One receptionist asked me if he could give her a piece of candy and then allowed her to choose anything she wanted from the hotel snack pantry. Another person acted, with an entirely straight face, like Carla was the person who’d booked and paid for the room, and he asked her very seriously whether she’d enjoyed her stay, and then answered her multiple questions about the hotel (it was in an historic building) with such kindness that I was unable to bring myself to tell him that there had been NO LAMPS in the hotel room. I think it would be so easy, working in a hotel, to be bored or harried or both, but everyone (except for that one woman I mentioned above) was so kind. So kind.