Back to France - June 2025

 

In December of 2019, Kathy and I took our son Judah, his wife MariKristin and  our two grandchildren, on a round trip cruise to Hawaii. It was so much fun, we asked Hosanna and our son-in-law Matt, if they would like to go on a vacation as well. They said sure, but wanted to go to France, not Hawaii. That sounded like fun to us, so we bought plane tickets, made hotel reservations, and rented a car for June 2020. Of course we never got to go, because by May, the entire world was shut down with Covid.

This year, we decided to try again. On Tuesday, Matt and Hosanna picked us up in their Kia Soul to head for LAX. A Soul is not the largest of cars, but, with some creative packing we got all of our luggage inside. Traffic, thankfully, was light. The kids could only get a week off from work, and they decided to park their car at the airport, so it would be waiting for them when they got back. Kathy and I are going to spend another week and a half exploring Brittany, so we’ll call Judah to come pick us up from the airport.

We paid a little extra to get Delta Comfort+ seats, since my 6’5” frame won’t find in an economy seat, no matter how much I try to fold my legs. Even with the extra legroom, though, Kathy and I didn’t get any sleep. Perhaps one of the $35,000 first class lay-flat seats would be better, but I’m not sure I could sleep in an aluminum tube, filled with strangers. It would remind me too much of trying to sleep in a youth-hostel dormitory.

We left LAX at 5:15 PM, and arrived in Paris at 12:30 PM the next day. In the airport we had to go through passport or border control. The line was several hundred people long and it took us about two hours. Once through customs we picked up a bag that Hosanna had checked, and then went to the RER light-rail station to get four week-long transit passes.

The week-long passes require you to supply individual photos, in a very specific size (25cm x 30cm). I got pictures of each of us on my phone, ran them through a free online resizer to get the correct dimensions, and sent them to be printed at CVS. The cost for the photos was about two dollars. The cost for the passes was also really reasonable (about $35). However, the “week” is not seven days, but Monday-Sunday. It is still less expensive than buying individual tickets, even if we only use it for five days; plus, the pass was valid on the airport run as well as the long-range RER train out to Versailles.

The week before we left home, I read an article about a planned Rail Strike on the 4th (the day we arrive) and on the 11th, the day that Hosanna and Matt return. I was afraid that we’d have to get a taxi from the airport, but, found out that the taxi drivers had been on strike since May. I was so anxious that I posted an article on the Rick Steves travel forum, where I was assured that the trains would still run, but with a reduced schedule. When we got to the platform, we found that the strike meant that there were two trains an hour, instead of four.

We got on the train and found seats; at every stop on the way to town, more people got aboard, standing and crowding in the aisles. Each time the train pulled out, the recorded voice said (in English), “watch out for pickpockets”, which seemed like an impossibility with all of the people. Finally, though, we made it to Les Halles. As you can see, both Hosanna and I were happy the journey was almost over. 

Instead of hotel rooms, we rented two serviced studio apartments from Yuna les Halles, located right next to the Metro/RER station, and a few blocks from Notre Dame. We had originally rented two AirBnB style apartments (from Booking.com, actually), but at the beginning of 2025 Paris started cracking down on AirBnB-style apartments, and in February we got a notice that the owner had left the short-term apartment rental business. 

Serviced apartments, like Yuna, Citadines, and Sonder, are commercial buildings, similar to hotels, where there is a small kitchen and eating facilities in each unit. I was initially a little apprehensive but both apartments were very new and clean. I think we’ll be very happy.

I seem to be especially susceptible to jet lag, so whenever Kathy and I go to Europe, we force ourselves to stay awake until at least 9:00 PM local time. Matt and Hosanna thought this sounded like a great idea too, so we decided to walk up the Seine to the Pont des Arts bridge (the bridge that used to have all the locks on it). Here you can see me doing my hunched-back Quasimodo impression, Matt and Kathy, with the Eiffel Tower in the background.

Here are all of us crossing the bridge to go to the Left Bank.

Starting around 2008, some tourists started attaching “love locks” with their names engraved on them to the wire netting on each side of the bridge, and then throwing the key into the Seine. This was not a French custom, and the Parisians were somewhat annoyed. In 2014, the newspaper, Le Monde estimated that there were around 700,000 locks attached.

In July of that year, a portion of the bridge parapet collapsed, and the metal mesh that used to border the bridge was replaced with glass. The Paris Mayor started a “Love Without Locks” campaign to encourage tourists to take selfies instead. Now, all of us can be annoyed, not just the Parisians. And, the campaign hasn’t convinced everyone. Anywhere you can attach a lock, someone is still doing it.

After walking past Notre Dame, back to the Right Bank, we stopped in for some dinner at the Cafe Le Mistral, right on the Seine. Kathy and Hosanna both had onion soup, and shared a salad. Matt was anxious to get into the Paris experience and ordered Steak Tartare. I wimped out with roast chicken. It was all pretty good.

After dinner, Matt was really tired so he went back to our hotel, while Kathy, Hosanna and I found a Monoprix grocery store where we picked up staples (butter, cheese, orange juice, etc.) for the morning. By  9:00 PM we were back in our apartment and asleep. Everyone slept well except for me. I woke up at 1:00 AM and couldn’t get back to sleep at all. I took a shower, read a book, tried deep breathing. Nothing worked. My body “knew” it wasn’t time for sleep. Tomorrow I’ll go looking for some NyQuil.