Paris has the most, I'm doing the least

🇫🇷 The Seine, the changing light, Notre Dame covered in scaffolding...

Paris light at 8:30 PM. Looking from Île Saint Louis across to Ile de la Cité. A crane that is part of Notre-Dame repairs is in the distance.

Last week I wrote about pressing pause to catch my breath in life and in writing. To reconnect with my husband. To travel. To notice. To live in the moment. 

Here in Paris, I am resisting the urge to furiously sightsee, to find the best new restaurants, or to seek out a lesser-known museum at the end of a metro line. Instead, I’ve been wandering the familiar streets of central Paris, including the Marais and the Latin Quarter—sometimes by myself, sometimes alongside

Sam Harrington

. We’ve eaten at one of our favorite tiny restaurants, Le Petit Fer à Cheval, in the Marais, where “Bouba,” one of the waiters, recognized me and gave me a hug. 

Paris light…

The changing light is always the theme. It’s bright til almost 9 PM this time of year. So we walk back and forth across the Seine, noticing the rush of water, sometimes calm but often scudding with small waves, and delight in the familiar stately Haussmann buildings lining the river. Billowing clouds and sun (when it’s not raining!) cast shadows that tell you the time of day. The lattice of scaffolding obscuring Notre Dame seems more extensive than ever. (Is progress being made with the repairs? Hard to tell.) 

A huge crowd relaxing along the banks of the Seine on the one 80 degree day we had. It’s 8:30 PM on a Saturday evening.

Improbably, the temperature has ranged from a very chilly 40 degrees to a summery 80 this past week. We’ve sat in cafés to escape driving rain or to bask in the sun, still chilled because we didn’t pack enough sweaters for April. Paris has it all, yes, but we are intentionally not doing it all. Only what an unplanned day necessitates. Walking, eating, squinting over the Seine, hugging familiar waiters. 

Biking in Versailles: the very definition of more

For a contrast and to be a little [b]old, we signed up for a small group bicycle trip¹ around the lovely green gardens of Versailles, with a guided visit of the palace. Everything about Louis XIV, le Roi Soleil who made it his home, was over-the-top, from his ego to his lavish lifestyle which included decorating with copious amounts of gold. He reigned for 72 years, dying at the age of 76 in 1715 of gangrene of the leg, according to our guide, Agathe. She told us the king was a ballet dancer (hence the out-turned leg and shapely calf you see in paintings); he performed solos for an audience of sycophantic courtiers. He was married once, officially, and had 21 children. You really couldn’t make this up. It’s a marvelous diversion from real life. 

A piece of the gate encircling the palace. Notice the fleur de lys, the “linked” L’s (for Louis), and of course the image of the sun king. This guy really knew how to promote himself. The gate was originally of solid gold but it was melted down during the French Revolution. Now it’s gold paint.

Pausing at Le Grand Canal as we bicycled through the Versailles gardens on a very chilly April day.

That’s it for a quick snapshot of pressing pause in Paris. If you have any favorite ways of savoring time away from your “real” life, I’d love to hear them. See you in the comments.

"Each decade has been a peeling away, like the layers of an onion"

1. It wasn’t cheap, but Boutique Bike Tours was heartily recommended by our daughter, who did the same tour a month ago with her two older daughters. We had a great time on a very cold day.