Day Two. Paris, France

I started writing this blog with the idea that it would be a good place to direct friends and family asking travel-related questions whilst I am away, but as I sit here tonight in my wee hotel room in the heart of Paris, I realize I am writing mostly for myself. I am going to look back, and this will seem like a dream—one of those lovely gauzy ones, rim-lit with satisfaction and the certainty of gilt-edged joy.

As it turns out, Victor Hugo, the renowned French writer, was correct: "Sleep is to the soul what the stomach is to the body." This morning, I woke at a reasonable time, after having starved my soul for sleep the prior 29 hours in an attempt to avoid too much jet lag, and found that not only does sleep work wonders, but coffee does too. My charming hotel, located precisely 500 steps from Gare de l’Est (a central train station and metro hub for Paris), also features a delightful à la carte breakfast of typical French fare—breads and pastries, meats, cheeses, fruit, and, most importantly, coffee.

Two cups later and a wave to my friend, the elderly concierge—who did not advise me to take an umbrella and later blamed me for not asking for one (note the foreshadowing)—I skipped out the door towards the metro station, determined to master its labyrinthine system before leaving the city tomorrow.

First Stop: Café Verlet

On my list of must-visit places for the day was Café Verlet (256 Rue Saint-Honoré, 75001 Paris), located in Paris's 1st arrondissement. This historic establishment, founded in 1880, is renowned for its exceptional selection of single-origin coffees and fine teas. Its Belle Époque-inspired décor, complete with wooden tables, mirrors, and a distinctive half-moon glass roof, lends the space an undeniable charm.

For lunch, I enjoyed a creamy bowl of pumpkin and lentil soup, served with crusty bread and paired with a café au lait. As I sipped and savored, I was entertained by the symphony of languages swirling around me. The mingling tones felt like music—a chorus of culture, rhythm, and expression.

The Passage des Panoramas

The metro—Line 7—brought me next to the Passage des Panoramas, located in Paris's 2nd arrondissement between Boulevard Montmartre and Rue Saint-Marc. Inaugurated in 1799, it is the city’s oldest covered passageway and a beacon of historical and architectural intrigue. The glass roof, beautifully illuminated by approximately 100 million tiny Christmas lights (an estimate, but truly a spectacle), allowed natural light to cascade over the shops and stalls below.

This passage is more than just a shopping destination; it’s a cultural landmark. It was here that I found trinkets for my children, which I will not disclose in detail lest they read this. *Waves to Hautala children!*

Librairie Jousseaume

Nestled within the Passage des Panoramas is Librairie Jousseaume, one of Paris’s oldest bookstores, established in 1826. The shop’s shelves are lined with antiquarian and second-hand books—literature, history, poetry, and illustrated works from the 19th and 20th centuries. Prints, engravings, and postcards also abound.

I nearly purchased a collection of Walt Whitman’s works translated into French, but beyond the fact that I could not read it (being unfortunately singularly lingual), I’m not a huge fan of Whitman. He always strikes me as a rather self-serving fellow, save for his poem "Song of Myself" and its delightful reference to a barbaric yawp:

"I too am not a bit tamed, I too am untranslatable,
I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world.
The last scud of day holds back for me,
It flings my likeness after the rest and true as any on the shadow’d wilds,
It coaxes me to the vapor and the dusk."

Avenue de l’Opéra

Next, I wandered to Avenue de l’Opéra, a prominent thoroughfare running northwest from the Louvre to the Palais Garnier, the city's historic opera house. Designed as part of Baron Haussmann’s extensive renovations of Paris in the 19th century, the avenue offers a striking perspective of the Palais Garnier. Its grand façade becomes increasingly imposing as you approach, intentionally designed to impress.

Lined with elegant Haussmannian buildings, Avenue de l’Opéra is home to a variety of shops, cafés, and restaurants. I made a point to stop at Cédric Grolet Opéra, a renowned patisserie located at 35 Avenue de l’Opéra. As fate would have it, the pastry chef himself was filming a new video for Instagram while I stood outside, watching him create something delicious. It was a moment of layered irony—the intersection of creativity, food, words, and technology in real-time. Paris, after all, is nothing if not a city of endless loops in inspiration.

And Then, It Rained.

(with unnecessary and significant vigor).

As I lingered on the avenue, the skies opened. I contemplated ducking into a café but decided instead to make a quick market stop for cheese, bread, and flowers (how could I not buy flowers in Paris!?) before navigating my soggy return through the city. Seven metro stops later, I arrived back at my hotel, dripping, grinning, and thoroughly content.

Tonight, Paris feels like a dream—gauzy and rim-lit, just as I imagined.