Tuesday, June 26, 2012

What Not To Do: A Weekend in Paris With the Kids

If you're a parent of small children, and you're thinking about spending a weekend in Paris:

a) find a babysitter with whom you can deposit your children for the weekend;
b) find a nanny to come with you and watch the kids, while you stroll through museums at a leisurely pace and linger over delicious meals at lovely restaurants;
c) if A and B are not possible, reconsider said trip to Paris.

Paris was high on our list of trips to make while we are in Europe for the summer, but we didn't really think through how the kids would feel about it.  They have enjoyed our day trips into London, so we expected they would find something to love about Paris.  They did not.  They had no interest in art, architecture, history, or fine cuisine, which is essentially what Paris is all about.  The weekend was full of moaning and complaining (or whinging, as they say in the UK) from our children, making it rather not what we had expected.

We took a very cramped train from a station south of London through the Chunnel and into Paris.  Kids under four can ride for free if they sit in your lap, but there is not a lot of space if that child is actually bigger than a baby.  We had hoped for an empty seat nearby, but the train was absolutely packed with people and stuff.

Ebbsfleet Station, Gravesend to Gard du Nord, Paris

We arrived in the early afternoon, but after taking two subways and walking about a mile to get to our hotel, we decided to relax in the hotel for a bit before venturing out.  Our hotel was less than a mile from the Eiffel Tower, so that was our first stop.  Having never been to Paris before, I was surprised by just how huge the tower is.  The kids were interested for a few minutes, but then they were mostly interested in running around the surrounding park and asking for something to eat.  We were all pleased about the sunny, pleasant weather, and the kids were finally able to go outside with short sleeves and no jackets, something that rarely happens in England.




We had dinner in the nearby neighborhood, at a tiny little restaurant called La Varangue, that was recommended by our Paris travel guide.  Apparently, everyone else had read the same review, because there was only one French-speaking couple in the whole place.  The owner/chef/waiter was very kind, and our meal was delicious.  Having not eaten much lunch on the train, we were all starving, so we devoured our food before I thought to take pictures.  Our kids ate their dinners without complaint-- pasta carbonara for Soren and a puff pastry with pork, mushrooms, and cream sauce for Malcolm-- so they must have been hungry!  The creme brulee and chocolate gateau we had for dessert were out of this world delicious.  It took a lot of restraint not to lick the plates clean.  

On Saturday, we took a ride on a double-decker tour bus, that hit all the highlights of central Paris.  It was a nice orientation to the city, and we were able to hop on and hop off as we liked.  I took a lot of pictures from the top of the bus, most of which were worthless, because the bus was moving or the view was obstructed.  

Our ride

Upper deck of Les Cars Rouges

This photo of Notre Dame was one of the few decent tour bus shots.

Our first stop was the Musee D'Orsay, which has a large collection of Impressionist paintings by Monet, Degas, Renoir, et al., plus two floors of Art Nouveau, and a spacious sculpture gallery.  Pictures are not allowed inside the museum, but Erik snuck one showing how beautiful the building itself is.  It was originally a train station.

Outside the Musee d'Orsay

Photo snuck inside the sculpture gallery

The museum was packed, and the kids asked us about every three minutes if we could leave yet.  Erik and I hope to go back some day on a weekday morning with no kids, so we can actually see the art and take our time there.  We grabbed some lunch in a nearby cafe.  I had a simple but tasty salad with goat cheese toasts.  I am going to try to recreate this at home.


After lunch, we got back on the bus to see some more sights.  The bus tour was very interesting, but it didn't hold Soren's attention.  He kept changing his headset and his brother's to other languages (French, German, Italian, Spanish, Japanese).  You can imagine how well that went over with Malcolm. We hopped off the bus again at the Arc de Triomphe.  We thought briefly about trying to take the elevator to the top (I never knew that was possible!), but the kids were completely not interested.  Instead, we snapped a few pictures and walked toward the Trocadero and in the general direction of our hotel in search of a snack.

Le Arc

Happy boys at last, chowing down in the Trocadero plaza

With the boys maxed out on sightseeing and Erik and I maxed out on whining, we retired to the hotel for a dip in the pool.  Apparently, the French believe strongly in the necessity of bathing caps, so we were each issued a "required" swim cap to wear in the pool.  I giggled every time I looked at one of the three boys, and I'm sure I looked equally ridiculous.  Alas, I did not bring my camera to the pool, so there is no amusing photo for you to enjoy.

Sunday started with a breakfast of croissants, pain au chocolat, crepes, and hot beverages, including the French version of hot chocolate for the kids.


After breakfast, we rode the tour bus to the Louvre stop. We knew the boys couldn't handle a huge, crowded museum like that, so we just walked through the courtyard on the way to the Orangerie, a small museum with some very famous paintings, including two rooms devoted entirely to Monet's waterlilies series.  The Orangerie does not allow photos either, but here are a couple from the Louvre courtyard.

The Louvre


As we left the Orangerie, it was starting to rain, so we made our way through the Jardin des Tuileries to a cafe and pastry shop called Angelina, recommended by one of Erik's colleagues.  It was heavenly.  The boys had their favorite croque monsieur, Erik had a Scandinavian club sandwich (smoked salmon, hard-boiled egg, and greens), and I had a vegetable quiche.  Even the side of greens was delicous.  We finished up with an almond praline pastry (the Paris-New York, it was called) and a strawberry eclaire.  Once again, they were consumed too quickly for photographic documentation.

The Tuileries

Lunch at Angelina

There was a carnival set up on one side of the Tuilleries, so we stopped in for a few rides after lunch.  The first ride was a jerky roller coaster designed for little kids.  The second looked like a harmless little pirate ship ride, but it was completely insane.  It went super fast, whipped us around in circles, and blew smoke in the air, so we couldn't see where we were going.  Soren screamed so long and hard that they stopped the ride to let him and Erik off.  

Crazy pirate ride

After the crazy pirate ride experience, we picked something mellow for Soren-- cars and trucks that went around in a circle.  Malcolm declared it "boring" and "too slow."  I happened to look around while the kids were on the ride and spotted Pierce Brosnan watching the ride, too!


Yep, that's Pierce Brosnan to the left!

The rain started coming down more steadily, so we picked an indoor activity next-- the Paris Sewer Tour.  I expected to see historic structures with tales of French revolutionaries and Les Miserables, which we did, but it was also a working sewer and way stinky.  I walked through part of the tour with my coat over my face.  It was fascinating to see how sewers work, but we didn't stay long thanks to the stench.  

Rainy day

In the sewer

Another sewer view

And that was the end of our Paris weekend.  The train ride back was much easier.  We had four seats in a group, facing each other, with a table in the middle.  The kids were thrilled to sit and watch movies on the iPads.  Erik and I were thrilled to finally open a book and have a quiet couple of hours to read and gaze out the window.  Our next trip to Paris will definitely not include children.

4 comments:

  1. PLEASE don't stop blogging!

    We decided a few years ago to NOT go to France with the G-man, precisely because we suspected he would react the same way. Diverting from Scotland to Paris was a huge deal just for a weekend, and given the expected outcome, decided to wait until he's older.

    You two can take a weekend by yourselves and enjoy all the romance and art that is Paris!

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    1. Sally, Malcolm is already talking about getting to go back to France when he's in 5th grade. I think he just wants to go on more carnival rides in the Tuileries.

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