(Paris, France)

After our lengthy walk through the Latin Quarter, we were suffering from a little bit of big city fatigue.  Rather than trying to find the “ultimate” Parisian restaurant, we decided to eat our final Parisian meal within a 5 minute walk of our Montparnasse hotel.  I did some quick online research, located a few “candidate” restaurants, and created a brief tour.  We agreed that we would eat at the first restaurant with that certain “je ne sais quoi“.

Much to our surprise, the winner of our random dining walk was “Aquarius”, a vegetarian/vegan restaurant on rue de Gergovie.  While I doubt that vegetarian dining is the first thing you think of when you think of dining in Paris, it turned out to be a restaurant with a long history.

I went for a Moroccan couscous plate, while my wife went for lasagna.  Even the beverages were a little different:  we had certified organic cider!  Our main courses looked great.  While I enjoyed the couscous, my wife thought that her lasagna was the best she had ever tasted…vegetarian or otherwise!

The patron was fascinated with the arrival of Canadians in his restaurant, and spent quite a bit of time talking proudly about vegetarian cuisine generally and his restaurant in particular. It was the kind of personal connection that we hadn’t expected to find in such a big city.

In retrospect, however, I think it all makes sense.   The back streets of Montparnasse simply don’t see the tourist crush one sees in more fashionable parts of Paris.  Restaurants here need repeat local business in order to survive.  You get that through good food and connecting with your clientele.

To celebrate our dining victory, we strolled around our new favourite Parisian neighbourhood.  There were fresh fruit and vegetable markets (see photo at the top of this post), independent bakeries, and tiny shops specializing in the smallest of niches.  The restaurants were from all over the world, reminding me a little bit of Toronto neighbourhoods such as Kensington Market.   It was an unexpected connection to home, in an obscure corner of the City of Light.

The last day of a long holiday can sometimes be sad.  I’ve often tried to cram as much uniqueness as possible into that day, in anticipation of less exciting days ahead.  But there was something different about this day in France.

From Rouen to Montparnasse, we had enjoyed living like locals more than on some previous trips.  Sure, we were about to go home, but there are unique niche shops and restaurants like Aquarius everywhere…even in the small city we call home.

(Paris, France)

While I greatly enjoyed my ascent of the Eiffel Tower, the crowds strengthened our resolve to avoid any kind of line-up for the remainder of our 3 night stay in Paris.

We ended up devoting most of our last full day to walking in and around the Latin Quarter.  We had a vague idea of where we wanted to go, but also didn’t worry too much about whether we “ticked all the boxes”.  It was very much a case of letting things happen, rather than forcing them to happen.  If we missed something along the way…well, there will probably be a next time.

We started with a visit to Montparnasse Cemetery.  This isn’t the most famous Parisian cemetery:  that would be Père Lachaise, which hosts celebrities ranging from Jim Morrison (of “The Doors”) to Oscar Wilde, Frédéric Chopin, and Edith Piaf.  However, Montparnasse does include famous “guests” such as Samuel Beckett, Charles Baudelaire, Serge Gainsbourg, and the jointly buried Jean-Paul Sartre and Simone de Beauvoir (see photo at the very top of this post).   Odd traditions have developed:  there are many discarded Metro tickets at the more famous graves.

Our virtually random wander through the Latin Quarter (so named because Latin was the language of universities during the Middle Ages) soon found us right in the middle of the famed Sorbonne.  The story of the Sorbonne (actually the Université de Paris, until quite recently), is complicated and the names of the institutions are constantly changing, but it is still a famous academic location.

We enjoyed the bookish vibe.  As you might expect, we found unusual bookstores, music shops, and almost comically specialized small businesses.  At one tiny fromagerie, we were given samples of various unusual cheeses:  while the employee was probably hoping to sell us an expensive gourmet picnic lunch, we only bought a small piece of a tasty sheep’s cheese.  We were already planning our own picnic, and this fitted in perfectly.  While we cannot remember the name of the cheese, it was consumed artfully at a park in the shadow of the Notre-Dame-de-Paris cathedral.  Perhaps it is better that we don’t know the name…it will become legendary in our minds and we can now embark on an eternal search for it!

Speaking of Notre-Dame…we passed it, and ate our picnic lunch behind it, but did not go in.  The crowds were massive and a slightly tense atmosphere of desperate tourism pervaded.  After two weeks in France, we had seen plenty of majestic cathedrals.  We decided to explore the back streets of Île Saint-Louis instead.  While it was no stranger to tourism, it was much more relaxing…especially when we took the steps down from street level and walked along the shores of the Seine.

We briefly crossed into Le Marais, where we found a gelateria recommended by one of my travel friends.   The gelato was not cheap, but it was high quality and soothed any lingering frayed nerves from the chaos around Notre-Dame.

We wandered back through the Latin Quarter, enjoying the casual elegance of the St-Germain district, before returning to our hotel in earthier Montparnasse.  While I had researched some interesting restaurants and venues for our last night in Paris. we ultimately decided to stay close to “home”.  Stay tuned for the details!

(Paris, France)

My parents took me to Paris when I was 10 years old. Among other sights, I visited the Louvre (home of the Mona Lisa!), the Arc de Triomphe, and the Eiffel Tower. But that was many years ago, in the spring, and in a much less crowded and much less traveled world.

Although I frequently changed planes at the Charles de Gaulle airport, I had not been to Paris itself since the late 1970s.  So I thought the time was right to not only see the city again, but also to see its most famous sight in a completely new way.  A brilliant idea, right?

France is frequently named as the most popular tourist destination in the world. Paris is its capital. The Eiffel Tower is likely its most iconic sight. July is the height of the tourist season.  I hadn’t booked ahead, because I wanted to climb the Eiffel Tower instead of taking the elevator…and tickets to climb the stairs could only be purchased the same day.  Was this really a good idea?

We walked all the way from Montparnasse to the Eiffel Tower.  It was exciting to catch a glimpse of the Tower here and there, only to have it disappear behind another famous Paris building.  And then, finally, we emerged onto the Jardin du Champ de Mars and the entire Tower (see photo at the very top of this post) was suddenly very, very visible.

As this was just after Bastille Day, crews were still taking down various temporary structures.  The signage was non-existent.  We eventually found a very long line and overheard enough to conclude that this was where we had to line up to get into the Eiffel Tower.  The line moved painfully slowly, and finally we were able to go through the comprehensive security checkpoint.  After about 45 minutes, we were finally right underneath the Eiffel Tower.

It seemed so close.  But we then realized that even longer lines were snaking out from each corner of the Tower.  We had to wait in THOSE lines just to go buy a ticket.  This took more than an hour; perhaps even 90 minutes.   It was also an extremely hot day…and I still had to climb the stairs.

It looked like this was going to be a major test of endurance.  By this point, however, my accumulated restless energy blasted me up the stairs in a flash:  6 minutes to the first observation level, and then another 4 minutes to the second observation level (the highest you could go by stairs).

It’s probably a good thing I went fast.  The higher you go, the more open space you encounter…and the more vulnerable and exposed you feel.  If you suffer from vertigo, I recommend taking the elevator instead.

The spectacular views from each level seemed to be exactly the same as they were nearly 40 years ago.  With the exception of one solitary (and horrendously ugly) 1960s skyscraper near our hotel, the skyline of Paris is not cluttered by tall buildings.  You can still follow the arc of Seine and its many bridges for miles and miles.  You can pick out famous landmarks or simply look at the insect-sized people on the ground far below.

There were changes to the Tower, however.  The interiors of the observation levels felt a little bit like malls, with pricey souvenir shops and snacks.  And the “courtyard” views straight down from the interior of the tower had a new attraction:  part of the floor had been replaced by glass, so you could now look straight down to the ground and feel like you are standing on thin air.

After taking what seemed like hundreds of pictures (one doesn’t climb the Eiffel Tower every day), I made my way down the stairs again…eventually emerging into the courtyard where the line-ups were now even longer.

In the end, I’d have to say it was still worth the wait…partly because there was some satisfaction in climbing the tower myself rather than taking an elevator ride up.  Not as vertiginous or flat-out scary as the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but (other than the souvenir shops) unique in an elegant Parisian way.  Like almost anything else in Paris, I’d still recommend going in the spring or fall if possible.   And if you must go during the summer, try visiting the Tower very early or very late in the day.  The sunset views might even be better!