1st Day in Paris -The Duck has Landed

Our First Morning in Paris

Jetlag is a funny thing. You end up crashing, and then abruptly wake up, first thinking you had a good night of sleep, but then realizing you only slept like 3 hours! Yes, this was my first night, both hubby and baby were sleeping soundly however. It was still dark outside and, according to my phone, it was only 3am. I felt wide awake even though all I had was a deep long nap. It dawned on me that "at home time" was still 8pm, and my circadian rhythm was still adjusting. So I laid down and tried to fall back asleep... and tried... and tried...and tried... until I said screw it, it wasn't happening and I was just too damn anxious anyway!

My mind was busy with thoughts: Where are we going to get groceries? I packed super light, where am I going to buy more clothes? How do I use the metro? How am I going to get around with the baby??? Oh yeah, in my sleep-deprived mind I was panicking a bit.

As a stay at home your whole mom-world revolves around your household tasks, your routines, and taking care of the baby and some household chores. Being in a completely different location with no food ready to eat in the cupboards or fridge, and all our belongings still in suitcases, I had the mentality of a squirrel preparing for winter in a most frantic way! Food. I must proclaim food for the family. I was up and about by 7am, and greeted the Parisian morning with only my objective in mind. Googling "boulangerie (bakery) near me", I practically took a bat to the face at how many options surrounded us! Holy crap... bakeries, groceries, restaurants, small bite bars, cafes, bistros, panini stands, kebabs, and patisseries all right next to each other; up and down, and side to side. Merde. This. Is. Paris. Not only will I not go hungry, but I have options. So many options that I could afford to be choosy.

I ended up at Boulangerie Rouges, only 2 blocks down and 4.6 stars. I managed to procure my americano (because 'of course') coffee, apple juice for baby, and as many pastries as I thought we could eat that morning for less than 10€. Oh, but I wasn't finished yet. Right next door to our apartment was a Franprix (think mini-grocery store), and it was here I purchased my first (and certainly not my last) baguet, camembert cheese, and packaged assortiment de charcuterie. Operation 'French Breakfast' was a smashing success, the only thing left to do was the setup. Hubby was up by this time and helped me prepare the table while the baby slept in. Our first morning in Paris, we enjoyed our breakfast in a most scenic and delicious Parisian way: out on our apartment's balcony, with a stunning view of classic French rooftops, and the Sacre-Coeur sitting there like a cheery on top. Mon Dieu!

Passage des Panoramas

After breakfast, I shared some of my anxieties with hubby. He too wasn't sure on what to do or where to go for our upcoming errands, but suggested instead to come with him downtown for some sightseeing and hopefully fulfill buying the necessities. He also suggested it would be good practice to get comfortable with the metro, explaining how it may be the best way to get around Paris (more on this in another post); and after the long flight and some mishaps from the previous day, he was only planning to work a half day anyway. Wow. I thought. Go downtown? So soon? Did he say 'shopping'? I needed no convincing, scary metro be damned! (spoiler: it sucked).

The metro spat us out right next to his job in between the 1st and 2nd arrondissments. By the time we had eaten, dressed, figured out the metro and arrived downtown, it was already lunch time. This is when hubby suggested to visit the Passage des Panoramas, something I've never heard about before. It's described as the oldest covered passage in Paris. Once upon a time the large passage was a mansion owned by the Duke of Luxemburg back in 1704. It was later converted to an open passage with a glaze roof covering, with the first gallery open to the public in 1786 (It was also illuminated with gas lights, back when streets were muddy, dark and generally unpleasant to walk on or shop, this was a big deal for it's time). It's since been renovated, with more galleries added over time and includes services, shops, restaurants, and a theater.

We decided to eat at Bar des Varietes where I had my first hard lesson in French. We both ordered a 3-course meal (starter, main, and dessert), and I wanted the duck. Eagerly wanting to practice my French, I mentioned I wanted the duck. The waitress gave a small smile and finished my sentence for me before I could finish saying it, this was the first clue I got that I may have said something...'off'. The second clue was when another server brought our plates and asked who had what, when I replied "le canard" and he shot a quick look that seemed surprised but carried on with his work and left. Okay, now I knew I said something wrong. And then I remembered Emily in Paris, where in one episode the main character, an American girl named Emily, tried to work at her French friend's restaurant and realized the French word for duck is "canard" but can sound like "connard" when pronounced incorrectly. Yes that's right, I wasn't saying "duck"... I was saying "asshole". À plus tard!