My Favourite French Word is Boulangerie
As any Australian or New Zealander will attest, embarking on a journey to Europe is no small feat. The arduous trek typically demands a minimum of 23 hours in transit, factoring in the time spent traveling to and from airports, not to mention any extended layovers. Thus, for those well-acquainted with this adventure, touching down in Paris after enduring a 30-hour journey last week was a sight for my tired eyes. It was particularly spectacular as I arrived in the midst of a mid-afternoon, bathed in perfect weather, ready to savour a glorious rooftop sunset at my accommodation in a little area known as Nation. I can’t recommend this quaint city stop enough, especially given its proximity to the metro line, which conveniently connects to all the tourist attractions.
Although I yearned to gallivant through the City of Love, the harsh realities of jet lag and a bout of illness hit me like a ton of bricks. Consequently, I chose to lay low on my first evening, nursing myself back to health with a few glasses of wine (how very typical of me) and engaging in a delightful conversation with a diverse group of solo travellers. Our ensemble included a Brazilian, a Swiss, an American, a Spaniard, and myself—an Australian, forming a rich tapestry of perspectives that wove deep into the night. I, however, opted for an early retreat so I could dedicate the following 48 hours to a leisurely exploration of Paris. This short time encompassed visiting some iconic tourist spots, taking respite to people watch, and embracing the beauty of the Louvre Museum during the day, the Sacré-Cœur during sunset, and the Eiffel Tower illuminated at night. Each view, in its unique way, proved to be as mesmerising as the one before, if not more so.
My visit to the Louvre Museum prompted me to dust off my French skills (minimal to say the least) in a flash. The allure of a delectable gelato on a splendid day proved irresistible, leading me to a nearby park where children sailed miniature boats and tossed crumbs to quacking ducks in a picturesque pond. Spotting the aforementioned gelato shop, I summoned just enough French to order a cup of cookies-flavoured delight. After savouring every bite, I hopped on the metro and found myself standing before the majestic Sacré-Cœur. Animated by a live guitarist and vocalist, the atmosphere was electric, with everyone singing, clapping, and revelling in the moment. Wandering the cobbled streets surrounding this architectural delight, I chanced upon a pizzeria and, more importantly, a Limoncello Spritz that screamed out my name. To my surprise, I placed my order, exchanged pleasantries, and settled the bill, all in French! The waiter kindly helped me navigate the nuances of pronunciation, but I was delighted to discover that the French truly appreciate the effort when you attempt their language. Feeling buzzed by the Spritz, I continued my journey to the glistening Eiffel Tower, culminating my day in the heart of the City of Love, alongside the Seine River—a perfect ending to a perfect day.
One more item remained on my tourist checklist: Notre Dame. Sadly, restoration work was underway when I arrived, preventing me from stepping inside. However, serendipity struck, and I crossed paths with my parents, who were also traversing Europe. We settled into a bistro, catching up on all things travel (mostly their side, as my adventure had just begun), and relishing yet another sumptuous French meal—Croque Monsieur. Speaking of French delights, I'm not typically a coffee enthusiast, but I couldn't resist ordering un croissant et un café, thoroughly enjoying what is considered a quintessential French breakfast. There's something inexplicable about Parisian coffee that sets it apart; no offence to Brisbane coffee experts, but the French truly have a knack for it!
Having discovered my newfound love for Parisian coffee, I had two more items on my agenda: a captivating burlesque show and a visit to a renowned boulangerie (bakery). The burlesque venue was a mere stroll from the famous Champs-Élysées and Arc de Triomphe. Upon arrival, I was escorted to my seat by an individual dressed as a vintage police officer. As a self-proclaimed theatre enthusiast, the experience was an absolute delight. The intimacy and thoughtful design of the venue added to the magic of the show, which was a testament to creativity. To enhance the experience, I indulged in half a bottle of champagne and delectable hors d'oeuvres. In true Cinderella fashion, I was back home by midnight and up at 7am, navigating the bustling Monday morning rush in search of a bakery that held the promise of the perfect croissant. Trust me when I say, it was the best croissant I've ever had, and no other croissant can compare. Its impeccable balance between the crisp outer layer and the tender interior will remain etched in my memory forever.
Now, I'm off to Amsterdam, where I hope to encounter yet another culinary masterpiece that can rival the perfection of that croissant. Any recommendations?