This article was originally published by the Family Travel Forum.
Paris in the Springtime.
A three day weekend offers many vacation possibilities. Add another day and you've got the makings of a short, off-season trip to Paris, by way of London's British Museum.
This was the trip I took recently with my ten year old daughter Morgan, a fifth grade student in Montgomery County's French Immersion program. Along with her bags, she packed a rather long list of homework assignments suited to her Gallic journey.
What better way to improve her language skills than to shepherd her French-deprived father around Paris. And at a round trip price of $358 for her, it proved too attractive an option to pass up.
After considering various airplane options we settled on a British Airways flight with a 10 hour layover in London. Arriving at Heathrow after a good night's sleep we made straight, via the Paddington express train which kids ride free, for the Harry Potter corner at the Children's Book Centre just west of the Kensington High Street tube Station, one of my favorite stops on frequent visits to London.
A three day weekend offers many vacation possibilities. Add another day and you've got the makings of a short, off-season trip to Paris, by way of London's British Museum.
This was the trip I took recently with my ten year old daughter Morgan, a fifth grade student in Montgomery County's French Immersion program. Along with her bags, she packed a rather long list of homework assignments suited to her Gallic journey.
What better way to improve her language skills than to shepherd her French-deprived father around Paris. And at a round trip price of $358 for her, it proved too attractive an option to pass up.
After considering various airplane options we settled on a British Airways flight with a 10 hour layover in London. Arriving at Heathrow after a good night's sleep we made straight, via the Paddington express train which kids ride free, for the Harry Potter corner at the Children's Book Centre just west of the Kensington High Street tube Station, one of my favorite stops on frequent visits to London.
Morgan knew that she wanted to see the Eiffel Tower illuminated at night --and no one had to tell her where it was.
"No," a slightly crestfallen Morgan was told, "the fourth volume is not yet out, and won't be until summer." Early orders were not encouraged.
I was hoping that we would have time to catch a Saturday matinee, but our flight's departure was about an hour too early for the shows of greatest interest. Be advised, it's no easier to get tickets for the Lion King in London than it is in New York.
We headed instead for the stately British Museum. In keeping with my self-proclaimed travelers bible, devised as a consequence of trailing children around the world, we settled on a couple of specific exhibits in the cavernous building, along with whatever we happened to pass along the way.
I have always been enthralled by the Elgin Marbles, the pieces of the Greek Parthenon on grand display. The museum was crowded on this slightly dreary February morning, but not enough to intrude on the exhibit, or the rooms full of Greek and Egyptian artifacts nearby. The Rosetta Stone too was very accessible. Morgan was more impressed with what the gift shop had on offer.
I was hoping that we would have time to catch a Saturday matinee, but our flight's departure was about an hour too early for the shows of greatest interest. Be advised, it's no easier to get tickets for the Lion King in London than it is in New York.
We headed instead for the stately British Museum. In keeping with my self-proclaimed travelers bible, devised as a consequence of trailing children around the world, we settled on a couple of specific exhibits in the cavernous building, along with whatever we happened to pass along the way.
I have always been enthralled by the Elgin Marbles, the pieces of the Greek Parthenon on grand display. The museum was crowded on this slightly dreary February morning, but not enough to intrude on the exhibit, or the rooms full of Greek and Egyptian artifacts nearby. The Rosetta Stone too was very accessible. Morgan was more impressed with what the gift shop had on offer.
We arrived in France about 8 pm. I pushed the hotel address into Morgan's hand and she made the necessary arrangements with the taxi driver. The ride into town brought us down an empty Champs Elysees and past the illuminated Arc de Triumph.
Le Hotel de Londres Eiffel sits in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, in a little neighborhood with more inviting restaurants than could be sampled in our short stay. It was almost 10 pm, but we were hungry, and settled on the restaurant next door Chez Agnes --the name of the proprietor, cook, waitress, and dishwasher. There was only one other table occupied in the small establishment, imbued with the requisite amount of cigarette smoke, plus a small dog, evidently the restaurant mascot. Morgan took to the dog right away. Agnes and her patrons were suitably impressed by Morgan's French skills, and rather appreciative of the fact that an American girl could speak French. I sat mute, smiling occasionally while the conversation swirled around me and the dog napped at my heels.
Like most visitors to the French capital we knew more about its touristic attractions than the city in which most Parisians live. While the former are important, I tend towards exploring the latter, walking for miles along city streets, exploring the local architecture, the price of strawberries, and what department stores look like and sell.
On this trip we were able to combine both elements, exploring the Paris of today on foot and by the efficient, cheap, and extensive Metro underground and bus routes, as well as hitting some of the monuments for which Paris is famous.
The Notre Dame cathedral, where Morgan paid particular attention to the extraordinary gargoyles that adorn it, was our first stop. On the Petit Pont nearby we spent an enchanting hour watching a trilingual juggler exhibit his artistry. Here, as elsewhere, most of the smallish crowds were French, contributing to the feeling that we were having an authentic Parisian experience.
Our nighttime boat ride down the Seine was one of Morgan's favorite experiences. These tourist boats can be hell during the crowded summer months, or on a particularly hot day. But the 9 pm sailing on a midweek day in February was all but empty. As the boat made its way past Musee D'Orsay, the Louvre, and a replica of the Statue of Liberty, there was a gratifyingly minimal effort by our host to tell us what was on view. Morgan knew that she wanted to see the Eiffel Tower illuminated at night --and no one had to tell her where it was.
Le Hotel de Londres Eiffel sits in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, in a little neighborhood with more inviting restaurants than could be sampled in our short stay. It was almost 10 pm, but we were hungry, and settled on the restaurant next door Chez Agnes --the name of the proprietor, cook, waitress, and dishwasher. There was only one other table occupied in the small establishment, imbued with the requisite amount of cigarette smoke, plus a small dog, evidently the restaurant mascot. Morgan took to the dog right away. Agnes and her patrons were suitably impressed by Morgan's French skills, and rather appreciative of the fact that an American girl could speak French. I sat mute, smiling occasionally while the conversation swirled around me and the dog napped at my heels.
Like most visitors to the French capital we knew more about its touristic attractions than the city in which most Parisians live. While the former are important, I tend towards exploring the latter, walking for miles along city streets, exploring the local architecture, the price of strawberries, and what department stores look like and sell.
On this trip we were able to combine both elements, exploring the Paris of today on foot and by the efficient, cheap, and extensive Metro underground and bus routes, as well as hitting some of the monuments for which Paris is famous.
The Notre Dame cathedral, where Morgan paid particular attention to the extraordinary gargoyles that adorn it, was our first stop. On the Petit Pont nearby we spent an enchanting hour watching a trilingual juggler exhibit his artistry. Here, as elsewhere, most of the smallish crowds were French, contributing to the feeling that we were having an authentic Parisian experience.
Our nighttime boat ride down the Seine was one of Morgan's favorite experiences. These tourist boats can be hell during the crowded summer months, or on a particularly hot day. But the 9 pm sailing on a midweek day in February was all but empty. As the boat made its way past Musee D'Orsay, the Louvre, and a replica of the Statue of Liberty, there was a gratifyingly minimal effort by our host to tell us what was on view. Morgan knew that she wanted to see the Eiffel Tower illuminated at night --and no one had to tell her where it was.
We visited the tower in day time as well. Taking the elevator to the second stage. I would suggest avoiding the lines and walking up. One gets a much more intimate view of the structure from the stairwell, which we decided to walk down.
Even the French wait in line to enter the Louvre. I had heard of an alternative entrance to the main one through the Pyramid, but couldn't find it. After a few minutes standing however, I roused myself to ask yet again. "Oh yes," said the policeman, "if you have a ticket you can enter via the Passage Richelieu." The moral of this story is to buy a multi-day museum pass ahead of time, and don't take no for an answer.
The Louvre is an extraordinary place, a palace with which no imitator can complete. A few weeks before my Paris trip I was in Istanbul, where I visited the Dolmbahce Palace, built in the mid-nineteenth century by French and Ottoman architects in what was a pale and futile effort to lend the grander of France to the crumbling Ottoman court.
One could spend days exploring the museum's treasures, counted among which is the building itself. But we were on a mission — to see the Mona Lisa, and nothing, not Hammurabi's Code or Aphrodite was going to divert Morgan from this objective.
We reached our goal, and with little effort Morgan was able to wriggle into the first row of the disciplined crowd of onlookers, and gaze at the famous lady .... for all of two minutes. Time to go eat. We found a wonderful café just around the corner, surrounded by Italian sculptures. Never have I sipped tea in such exalted surroundings.
At the Pompidou Center, Morgan was content to look at the museum exposed superstructure from afar, preferring instead to enter a nearby tourist shop with its keychains and sweatshirts. The museum is close to the Le Marais district, just off the cosmopolitan Rue De Rivoli, where we spent two nights in the Hotel de la Brettonnerie, a charming, inexpensive hotel frequented by French and Americans. This fashionable district offers plenty of window shopping for adults and children alike from glassworks to jewelry and carpets to the most expensive tea shop I have ever visited.
The Picasso museum was only a stone's throw away, but like museums featuring Rodin and the Impressionists it will have to wait. I was not interested in pressing visits to places that she herself was not interested in or that her stamina wouldn't easily permit. I do not expect that this will be her, or my last trip to Paris. Even if it were, the best part for me about the trip was having some time alone with her, while she is still young enough to want to hold my hand as we stroll along the Seine.
Even the French wait in line to enter the Louvre. I had heard of an alternative entrance to the main one through the Pyramid, but couldn't find it. After a few minutes standing however, I roused myself to ask yet again. "Oh yes," said the policeman, "if you have a ticket you can enter via the Passage Richelieu." The moral of this story is to buy a multi-day museum pass ahead of time, and don't take no for an answer.
The Louvre is an extraordinary place, a palace with which no imitator can complete. A few weeks before my Paris trip I was in Istanbul, where I visited the Dolmbahce Palace, built in the mid-nineteenth century by French and Ottoman architects in what was a pale and futile effort to lend the grander of France to the crumbling Ottoman court.
One could spend days exploring the museum's treasures, counted among which is the building itself. But we were on a mission — to see the Mona Lisa, and nothing, not Hammurabi's Code or Aphrodite was going to divert Morgan from this objective.
We reached our goal, and with little effort Morgan was able to wriggle into the first row of the disciplined crowd of onlookers, and gaze at the famous lady .... for all of two minutes. Time to go eat. We found a wonderful café just around the corner, surrounded by Italian sculptures. Never have I sipped tea in such exalted surroundings.
At the Pompidou Center, Morgan was content to look at the museum exposed superstructure from afar, preferring instead to enter a nearby tourist shop with its keychains and sweatshirts. The museum is close to the Le Marais district, just off the cosmopolitan Rue De Rivoli, where we spent two nights in the Hotel de la Brettonnerie, a charming, inexpensive hotel frequented by French and Americans. This fashionable district offers plenty of window shopping for adults and children alike from glassworks to jewelry and carpets to the most expensive tea shop I have ever visited.
The Picasso museum was only a stone's throw away, but like museums featuring Rodin and the Impressionists it will have to wait. I was not interested in pressing visits to places that she herself was not interested in or that her stamina wouldn't easily permit. I do not expect that this will be her, or my last trip to Paris. Even if it were, the best part for me about the trip was having some time alone with her, while she is still young enough to want to hold my hand as we stroll along the Seine.
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Getting There
For getting to or from Paris, the RER commuter train, line B, has stations in T3 (from where you can take the free CDGVAL shuttle train to T1) and T2. Trains to Paris leave every 7-8 minutes and stop at Gare du Nord, Châtelet-Les Halles, Saint-Michel Notre-Dame, Luxembourg, Port-Royal, Denfert-Rochereau and Cité Universitaire. Adult tickets cost €10 (February 2015), and for children between 4-10 the fare is €6.65 each; unusually, day tickets are normally not valid for travel to and from the airport. The train takes around 35 minutes to Gare du Nord and 45min to Denfert-Rochereau, making this the fastest way to get to the city. Tickets can be purchased either through green (sometimes blue) automated ticket vending machines ("Billetterie Ile-de-France") or through the ticket office serviced by transport authority personnel. Trains for Paris usually leave from platforms 11 and 12. Look for signs saying "RER B" or "All trains go to Paris". When using the ticket from and to the airport (as with tickets for the RER commuter trains in general) you have to use it to enter and to exit the train. There is also a TGV station in T2 for high-speed connections, mostly towards Lille and Brussels, but there are also some trains that head west to eg. Rennes and Nantes, bypassing Paris. |