I didn’t really write anything about our last trip. But I was looking through the pictures from the flight over to Paris. It was a non- stop 9 and a half hour flight to the Paris from Salt Lake. We got in and seated and seemed so bright eyed and fresh.
I was ready, and excited and had some fun books to read for the flight.
We watched the sunset over the mountains.
Flash forward a few hours, and we were trying to go to sleep.
Right as I was falling asleep, they served dinner.
We slept a while, a few hours I would guess. But as we went over Ireland, the turbulence was really bad, like really bad.
There was no way to sleep anymore through that.
Still trying to sleep.
Off the coast of England there were grids of energy fans.
We finally made it.
It is terrible to get there, but I am so happy once I do.
After years of dreaming, months of begging Karl, and a long exhausting flight I was finally in Paris. I was SO excited and happy and just floating. That might have been the jet lag, but I am pretty sure it was what having a dream come true felt like.
We took the train all the way into town got off at a shopping center. We drug our bags around the neighbor hood, and followed our map to our hotel.
We passed the Center De Pompidou(!!!!!!!) on our walk there. We were just walking struggling to pull our luggage loudly across the cobblestone paths and suddenly there it was. I could have cried.
We walked another full block and were at our hotel. We could still see the top of the Center De Pompidou-I was just so happy. That dark wooden doorway in the entrance of our hotel.
Our hotel was a little Boutique Hotel in the Mariais neighborhood in the 3rd district of the city. It is called the Hotel du Vieux Marais.
It was small, but cool. With a secret sliding door opened by the person at the desk.
It is a 5 story building, with a spiral stair case, 4 rooms on each level, and a TINY elevator, just big enough for two people.
Our room, on the top floor, #55.
We threw our bags down, freshened up, and were off to see the city!