Paris Travel Guide: Venturing the Left Bank

Bonjour Bloggy Friends,

Today was one of our favorite days.

This morning Alan scooted across the street to a boulangerie where he picked up two croissants and a pastry to supplement our breakfast. I’m not typically much of a bread person, but I couldn’t leave Paris without trying a croissant. They were both delicious - especially with a dab of locally made strawberry jam.

When we finished it was time to hit the streets. Once again we sauntered west along the Seine River to the Pont des Arts. This is a pedestrian-only bridge that is supposedly a meeting place for lovers. Before crossing Alan carved our names into the railing with hordes of others. We can’t wait to look for it when we come back.

On the other side of the bridge was the beginning of the Left Bank. We liked what we saw of it during our history tour, so we thought we’d return to explore a little further. Along the way we saw a Mr. Burns-looking statue of Voltaire, had a moment of silence outside the hotel where Oscar Wilde died and surfed through various art galleries before grabbing an organic scoop of gelato near the intersection of rue de Seine and rue de Buci. This area was popping with locals. It was great.

To wrap things up we visited the Abbey of Saint-Germain-des-Prés and The Church of Saint-Sulspice, and people watched in the  manicured lawns of the Jardin du Luxembourg. People watching has been one of my favorite activities so far. It’s fascinating to see how the French interact with one another. They seem so laid back, in love with life and a little goofy all at the same time.

Later we had a wonderful meal at a restaurant near our apartment called el Marché. It began to rain while we were there, so we decided to wait it out with a few more glasses of wine.  When in Rome…. Or France…..

When it finally dried up we hopped the Metro to the base of Arc de Triomphe and strolled down the highly commercialized Champs-Élyseés. I was a bit turned off by all the name brands flashing in my face, but that was remedied with four tiny macaroons and a cup of tea at a perfectly charming tearoom called LaDurée.

French macaroons taste a lot like heaven in a cookie. I wish I could bring back a dozen for all of you.

Salut,

Josh