Slowing Down in Paris: Lessons From the A Journey to the City of Love
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From walking on Avenue de New York right as it hits 9 p.m. to visiting the city’s most beloved cafés, Paris has become my favorite place to travel. This September, I traveled there to celebrate my 22nd birthday in the “City of Love.”
My trip began as the plane touched down at Paris’ Charles de Gaulle Airport, which led to a tired and chaotic, red-eyed journey of taking the shuttle to receive my checked luggage combined with the anticipation and eagerness of seeing the city I love most with my own eyes. Upon making my way out of the maze-like airport, I was immediately hit with the scent of cigarettes and cars. I might have commented about how unpleasant the smell was if I were back at home, but it somehow felt acceptable in Paris, and I had no reason for complaints.
With my ability to speak French, I asked a taxi driver to take me to Hotel Montaigne, which was to be my home for the next five days. Of all my experiences in Paris, the car ride to the hotel from the airport is a core memory. Seeing the different car license plates, road signs and grocery stores as we drove into the city coupled with the eagerness of seeing the Champs-Élysées, Eiffel Tower and Sacré-Cœur Basilica in the coming days made my heart rate quicken with delight. Most of all, seeing the classic Parisian Haussmannian buildings with the tilted rooftops as I looked out the window in the car felt like stepping into the pictures of Paris hanging on my bedroom walls.
Upon arriving at the hotel and settling in, I immediately made my way to La Belle Ferronière (still in my airport clothes) to dine on what I have been calling “my favorite cheeseburger in the world” since I visited Paris for the first time in 2022. The kind waiter approached me with a menu, but I did not need time to make a decision. I ordered a cheeseburger and fries with a Coke Zero, people-watching while I indulged in the flavors I have been chasing since that first bite. Biting into a buttery brioche bun with its peppery beef patty and melted cheese made every minute of the plane ride worth it. My after-dinner dessert consisted of a cappuccino from Le Georges V Café like a local Parisian, which ironically led to a much-needed nap at the hotel.
I spent my first night in Paris having tea at the iconic Hôtel Plaza Athénée, which would only become my first out of five visits to the romantically built building with soft pink details and fresh flowers that only make you want to stay forever.
I used jet lag to my advantage by strolling the city late into the evening, and, of course, watching the Eiffel Tower sparkle on Avenue de New York, surrounded by others taking the pulse of the city’s heart through its architecture, all while hearing cameras clicking and murmurs of awe. Moreover, the jet lag followed me to the morning, which is why I ended up at Carette on Place du Trocadéro at around 7 in the morning. I ordered the hot chocolate crowned with whipped cream, alongside a pain au chocolat and a croissant, dipping the pastries into my drink.
There are a few things better in life than French hot chocolate, with a thickness like brownie batter and a taste that is almost as if one ladled a chocolate fountain into a mug. My breakfast definitely set the rest of my first official day in the city to a high standard, and it only got better from there.
Prior to arriving, I bought tickets for The Water Lilies exhibit by Claude Monet at the Musée de l’Orangerie. I have spent years dreaming of seeing these stunning works of art in real life, and I actually did feel like I was in a dream upon stepping into the clean, bright white room featuring Monet’s most influential work. Unable to take my eyes off of the paintings that do not shout beauty, but instead whisper it, I felt goosebumps going down my body. The strokes of the brush felt like silence turned into color, and a soft light that symbolizes the delicacy of nature. I was immensely honored to view Monet’s most prized possessions without a screen in between the art and my eyes.
Walking out of the museum, I was met with water falling from the sky. While a little worried about my blow-dried hair, I also knew how lucky I was to experience Paris rain. I quickly understood why so many artists paint and take photos of the city while it is raining. It feels more romantic, softer, with the cobblestones shining, lovers pressed closer together while sharing umbrellas, and the smell of roasted coffee drifting from cafés serving as a warm hug in the cold rain.
Naturally, this only meant I had to get one of my many caffeine fixes of the day, this time from Café Kitsuné. While indecisive between a hot cappuccino and an iced matcha latte, I am so glad I picked the matcha. Earthy, but with a touch of sweetness from the agave, I was very impressed with the matcha in Paris. Although my iced drink did not exactly pair with the pouring rain outside, I was content with my decision.
I spent the following four days in the French capital eating some immensely delicious pastries, drinking cappuccinos, and visiting the city’s historic sites. The Notre-Dame Cathedral was being rebuilt the last time I visited Paris, so I was very ecstatic to be able to go inside this time. I also had authentic French onion soup (or in this case, simply onion soup) and a croque madame at a small corner café with the funniest and kindest staff.
Another cherished part of my trip was attempting to use the French fluency I have to order food and make conversation with waiters, taxi drivers, hotel staff and others. It was so fulfilling to have them speak back to me in French and make connections with those in a different country.
Moreover, I became very good at ordering desserts in French by the end of my trip. The city felt like a sweet treat dream. From the Hazelnut Marble Dessert from Ritz Paris Le Comptoir Cambon, mille-feuille from Hotel Plaza Athénée, crème brûlée from Maxim’s and chocolate mousse from Chez Janou, Paris truly raised my expectations for sweets. Among the city’s sweeter temptations, I also waited in line at Officine Universelle Buly, where fragrance lingers like poetry in the air. Walking out with a bottle of perfume and a hairbrush engraved with my name, I felt as though I was carrying a piece of the French capital itself.
With that, I also had a perfectly seared and brown-on-the-outside, juicy-on-the-inside steak at Maxim’s. The cut had that old-school Parisian kind of luxury that matched the ambiance of the restaurant. The buttery steak was paired with golden frites, making for a duo that was always meant-to-be. Maxim’s had to be my favorite dinner restaurant with its Belle Époque mirrors and red velvet details, embodying old-world glamour. While the dining area is on the first floor, the staircase leads one up to more mirrored walls, stained glass, red velvet banquettes and a charm that can only be found where timelessness is preserved. Being nostalgic for a time I have never known, the atmosphere of Maxim’s feels like you have traveled to a bygone century.
My trip to Paris was nothing short of perfect. Throughout my time in the city, I understood why Parisians take their time people-watching or talking to their loved ones at cafés, riding their bikes (while wearing suits) to work and eating lunch by the Seine. Paris is meant to be appreciated for its still and delicate beauty, with even the most mundane tasks becoming romanticized. To see it, to taste it and to live it is to understand why the City of Love never loses its magic.
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