PARIS - Day 3

As our body clocks began to align to the northern hemisphere, we were hungry for adventure. We were all up early and went for coffee at the Café Village Ronsard next door to our local markets on St Germaine. We then brought pastries and a baguette from the bakery next door and went home for breakfast.  On the way, we stopped and bought a jar of fresh strawberry jam that was delicious. We then headed out to Notre Dame to get in early before the tourist swarm. It was beautiful and serene and smelt of the ages. The ancient black and white floor tiles had worn with time, which made us wonder whose steps had preceded ours. As we left, it was still grey and cold. To shorten our journey to the Marais, we all jumped on Velibs. It was Stella’s first time and she struggled before perseverance paid off. The streets and lanes between the Ile de la Cite and our destination were beautiful and ideal for learning to ride the heavy cycles. On our arrival, we walked a while before rewarding ourselves with more coffee and hot chocolate at the small Café Les Rosiers in the Marias. It was the perfect place, small and original and devoid of any English translations.  The owner was a beautiful older French woman who made a fuss of Ollie and Stella.  She spoke no English but made us feel welcome with her wide smile and close attention. Fortified again, we walked through the Marais in thawing sunshine to the Pompidou Centre before being deterred by the lines of tourists waiting for entry. Against Stella’s wishes, we jumped on the Velibs again and road to the Louvre. It was an epic journey for Stella’s first day and her effort was heroic.  But she was exhausted by the time we arrived so we headed home for lunch of fresh roast chicken and quiche from the local market.  Later in the afternoon, as Ollie and Karin relaxed, I begrudgingly agreed to take Stella on a 60-minute adventure. Racing the clock, and without telling Stella where we were going, we jumped on the Metro and headed for Montparnasse. As we arrived, 27 minutes had elapsed. Hand in hand, we ran the 500 metres to Montparnasse Tower and lined for tickets. 12 minutes later, we hit the summit and spent 5 minutes taking in the 360-degree vista before trying to race home in time. Miraculously, we were on the metro with 10 minutes left. Seven minutes later, we arrived at or stop and ran home. We entered the door of our apartment with 13 seconds to spare, breathless and exhausted. An hour later, Ollie had convinced me to take him on his own adventure, but we agreed we would not race the clock this time. Typically, Ollie guessed the adventure’s destination when we arrive at Charles de Gaulle Metro on the Champs Elysees. We lined for tickets and climbed the numerous steps to the roof of the triumphant Arch to marvel at its spectacular view. Still hungry for adventure, we then searched for Velibs to take us down the road to the Eiffel Tower. The descent was fast and furious as we kept up with the Parisian traffic. Each time I turned to check on Ollie, I saw him white knuckled, pedalling frantically. We arrived under the shadows of the tower in the late afternoon. Tourists and hawkers were dense as we rode away towards the train that would take us home. We found a Velib station down a side street on the wrong side of the tower. No tourists to be seen but a view of the tower like no other. The day was insane and hectic. Karin wisely chose to avoid each challenge and enjoyed her afternoon in peace. Greek takeaway was devoured for dinner before Ollie and Stella fell asleep on the couch at 8pm. It was a day lived large, done more for the moment than for memory.