9 minute read

Paris is Always a Good Idea

I’ve heard that Paris is a magical place. I lived there for a year, and I knew the best vintage shops and metro lines by heart, yet I wanted to experience the enchanting side of Paris I’d only gotten glimpses of in between school work, grocery shopping and train tickets out of the city. The opulent hotels, old architecture, sitting at corner cafes for hours on end. I wanted to take photos of the Arc de Triomphe and eat room service on a hotel balcony overlooking the Eiffel Tower. So on a whim I booked a dream vacation with my friend Johanna. A week of must-sees, local spots and hotels that would make it hard to step foot outside to begin with. Paris done right.

We land at CDG, happy to be off the plane and away from the Great Dane (seriously) that shared our row, and thanking ourselves for reserving a Blacklane car and not having to deal with the taxi line. We spot our driver at baggage claim and he carries our bags to his Mercedes. We guzzle the lemon water he has waiting for us and settle in for the 30 minute drive. First stop: The Peninsula Paris.

Entering the lobby, 800 crystal leaves cascade from the ceiling and marble pillars are abundant. The front desk agent greets us with room keys and a touch of French humor. Our suite is a perfect balance of French grandeur and modern Asian technology. It even has a nail dryer, which was put to good use. As was the black marble bathtub overlooking The Peninsula’s courtyard.

We drop our bags and walk to the Eiffel Tower, I think it’s a rule that that’s the first thing you do when arriving in Paris. After a couple hours of wandering around, we quickly discover that The Peninsula has a pool (very rare for Paris hotels), a true oasis in a city where you’d be lucky to find a drinking fountain. We fit in a swim surrounded by tiny iridescent blue tiles before dinner.

Famished, we head downstairs to LiLi, The Peninsula’s Chinese fine dining restaurant. We opt for the seven course tasting menu; crab and lobster dumplings topped with caviar give way to pumpkin soup with scallops, prawns, clams, and crab. Our server lifts the lids off of each pot like she’s revealing a surprise. We wrap up the meal with a light yet memorable dessert of lemon and lychee panna cotta with vanilla whipped cream.

Not ready to turn in (if you can’t beat jet lag, make the most of it) we take the elevator to L’Oiseau Blanc—the hotel’s rooftop restaurant and bar named for the plane that mysteriously disappeared in 1927 attempting a transatlantic flight from Paris to New York. Cocktails in hand we step out onto the balcony and cheers to being in Paris as the clock strikes 2 a.m. and the Eiffel Tower sparkles in clear view—a sight that never gets old and is just as mesmerizing every time.

In the morning Johanna raises the blackout blinds via iPad (everything in the room, down to the do not disturb sign, is electronic) and I shuffle over to the valet box—like a dumb waiter and my favorite feature of the room—to collect our “morning paper” selection, Vogue Paris.

We walk downstairs to Le Lobby for breakfast. One of the main things I notice has changed in Paris the past six years in how much more health conscious the city seems to be. I order the Wellness Breakfast of avocado toast, berries, chia seed pudding, and goji berry juice. Johanna, who was almost too excited for breakfast to sleep, orders the eggs Benedict, accompanied by a platter of pastries and baguettes. No pastry goes untasted and nothing in the US could ever compare to how delicious they are.

Once we can’t possibly eat another croissant, we hop on the metro to meet Elisa, who was the magazine’s Marketing Director three years ago and since moved back home to Paris, for tea at Hyatt Place Vendôme. After a peek in the jewelry stores and the flagship Louis Vuitton store lining Place Vendôme, we catch up over fresh peppermint tea and financiers. Elisa gives us helpful tips—don’t take line 13 on the metro, the 11th is the trendiest arrondissement right now—and mentions a couple new restaurants and spas to try. We take her recommendations and set off.

We spend the next few days wandering around Paris, with no plans and nowhere to be. By the end of the trip my phone says we walked 45 miles. We explore the cute cobblestone streets and panoramic city views of Montmartre. We stop in tiny cafes, Baguete Cafe with its fairy lights, rustic decor and golden milk (warm coconut milk, turmeric, cinnamon, and ginger) was a favorite. We shop at the department stores…Le Bon Marche and its foodie counterpart La Grande Epicerie on the left bank, and Printemps and Galeries Lafayette on the right bank. We sit outside at brasseries and watch Paris transform into a painting with pink fluffy clouds as the sun sets behind ancient buildings.

Come Saturday we brunch at Cafe Otto in the 18th arrondissement. Greeted by Chef Lisa, an Austrian transplant, I settle into the hunter green velvet booth and order fluffy pancakes topped with honey, sesame seeds, blueberries, and yogurt. Who would have thought the best pancakes I’d have in my life would be in the land of crêpes. Johanna orders smoked salmon on toast and a salad topped with crab. Everything is so fresh and the atmosphere is quaint and refreshing. We finish off the meal with apple strudel with Chantilly cream, from Lisa’s grandmother’s recipe.

We return to The Peninsula to enjoy the rooftop view one last time before checking out and moving to Le Marais for a few days. Stepping into Le Pavillon de la Reine hotel is like entering a secret garden. It’s located off of Place des Vosges, a beautiful square lined with contemporary art galleries. Each of the 56 rooms is unique. Light floods into our lofted suite through a floor-to-ceiling window which opens to a balcony overlooking the entry courtyard. A burnt orange couch and multicolored striped chairs pop against black and white patterned wallpaper and carpet, creating a sophisticated yet fascinating home away from home.

To get the lay of the land we walk along the Siene, venturing over to Île Saint-Louis and gazing in awe at Notre-Dame Cathedral. We stop at concept store Merci to peruse whimsical displays showcasing everything from clothes to plates to toothpaste. Eventually, we are lured into a bakery by meringues the size of our heads and topped with dried raspberries and pistachios. We buy two and take them back to the hotel to break through to the gooey centers.

Sunday morning we walk to Derrière for Champagne brunch. Hidden in a courtyard behind giant green doors, you’d have to know it’s there. Once inside, the atmosphere is lively, filled with animated diners, eclectic decor and mounds of books just waiting to avalanche downs the stairs. A ping pong ball dribbles under our table as we indulge in artisanal cheeses, fresh fruit, and slices of lemon meringue and pear tarts from the buffet. I order foie gras with homemade black cherry jam followed by fish stew packed with seasonal vegetables. The food is beyond delicious, yet the best part of Derrière is the beds upstairs, the edges serving as seats. Or perfect for a nap. Jet lag is inevitable, choose your restaurants wisely.

After brunch we make our way to a row of colorful pastel houses on Rue Crémieux in the 12th arrondissement for, you know, Instagram reasons. We spend the afternoon walking around, strolling down intriguing streets. Salted caramel macarons from Pâtisserie Sadaharu Aoki hold us over until dinner at La Vague in the 10th arrondissement. There is not a tourist in sight at the ten table restaurant. Our personable server translates the Japanese-Peruvian fusion menu as we sip passion fruit pisco sours. The ceviche dishes are almost too beautiful to eat, sprinkled with edible flowers, and incredibly flavorful. A welcome interruption in our pursuit to eat all of the sweets in Paris.

Around 9 p.m. we return to Pavilion de la Reine’s lounge furniture filled lobby to a beautiful sight for sore feet—a crackling fireplace and an honesty bar in the library. Come morning the lobby is set up with a buffet of fruit, pastries and all the fixings for the perfect tartine. We enjoy a leisurely breakfast until it’s time to check out.

For our final couple days in Paris we rest our heads at Hôtel Plaza Athénée. The iconic red awnings and geranium filled planters welcome us. The lobby is buzzing with guest dressed to the nines and messengers with long stemmed roses and shopping bags.

In our suite fresh pink roses and gold painted chocolate slabs molded into our zodiac signs await our arrival. There personalized touches are endless and the suite offers unobstructed views of the Eiffel Tower from every room—whether playing piano or laying in bed. Nothing to make you feel like you’ve done something right in your life like taking a bath with an unparalleled view of the Eiffel Tower.

Convinced that nothing outside the hotel is more magical than the ice rink that fills the garden courtyard during winter months, we sit and watch children skating against a backdrop of Christmas trees and walls covered in vines. As if the Plaza Athénée could get any better, we discover the Dior Institut—their elegant spa which could not be more appealing after a day of sightseeing.

Breakfast our final morning is just off the lobby at Alain Ducasse. Glittering chandeliers spread across the ceiling, hovering over futuristic seating. Our table is covered in pastries, yogurt, fruit, and coffee. I tear open a pink sugared brioche to reveal a bright red berry puree center. Johanna orders French toast (when in Paris) and I get the smoothest, richest, fluffiest wild mushroom omelette that ever existed.

After packing we decide you can’t leave Paris without chocolate so we stop at La Maison du Chocolat on Avenue des Champs-Élysées for chocolate filled macarons and award-winning traditional chocolates. I pick out a box to take home with the help of the staff who seems to not just eat, but live and breathe chocolate.

In the Blacklane car back to the airport, I reflect on the trip. It was really the hotels that elevated this experience above my previous time in Paris. They weren’t just a place to sleep, they were summaries of the neighborhoods, highlighting the best and leaving the familiar mundane outside. They allowed me to see somewhere I used to call home in a new light, or at least through a window with a better view.

Written by Ottocina Ryan