By Please note that this trip took place pre COVID. The Spanglish Girl Team encourages all to follow CDC guidelines when making decisions about travel.
Trip of a lifetime part 2
The day after my birthday, I woke early for part dos of my trip. My anxiety began to rise just thinking about everything I had to do that day. That I would have to make my way through St Pancras Station, with its labyrinth of platforms and many signs, in addition to having to leave the UK and go through customs, was a bit daunting for a small-town Spanglish Girl like myself from rural Nevada.
Turned out the anxiety was all for nothing and that this small-town Spanglish Girl is a natural born globetrotter!
After entering the station, I quickly found my line to go through customs, where I waited, and then waited some more, before heading to the waiting area to wait some more for my train. Seating was scarce, so I was glad to have arrived early, which gave me ample time to listen to French music and people watch, as I waited even more for the announcement to board.
My anxiety returned when the announcement for my train came and a mad dash of people raced for the escalators. I imagined that this is what it must have been like for my father when he first arrived to the U.S. from Mexico and was faced with having to make his way in a foreign country. Channeling the brave Mexican in me, my survival instincts kicked in, and I followed behind those who looked like they knew were they were going. Works every time…
After a long walk down the platform, I found my carriage and took my lone window seat, settling in for the ride. Shortly after taking off, we were given lunch, which I barely picked at because of my excitement.
The train took me through the beautiful English and French countryside, which was littered with small towns and church steeples. One thing that caught me off guard were the security fences near Calais which I had read are used to keep out fleeing migrants. It reminded me of the Mexican-American border that my own family at one time crossed in hopes of a better life; a life I now bare witness to and get to enjoy because of the bravery and sacrifices of my parents and grandparents.
I arrived in Paris mid-afternoon at Gare du Nord Station. As soon as I stepped out of the station, I was in awe of my surroundings. Paris looked just like I imagined it would. Despite only knowing a few words of French, I easily found the taxi area and jumped in for another circuitous route through a new city.
While I enjoyed London, there was just something about Paris that spoke to me and made me feel like I was home. It could have been the diversity of the people, or the beautiful architecture, or maybe it was my long forgotten French ancestors welcoming me home.
I had a fun chat with my taxi driver in English about my home state of Nevada and the city Las Vegas, which he had visited a few years back. As we chatted, he pointed out different points of interest.
My hotel was a small boutique hotel, tucked into a local street, near the military museum, and within walking distance of the Eiffel Tower. It had an old world feel but had been carefully modernized to meet modern expectations without completely destroying its Parisian charm; like its tiny elevator and uneven winding stairs. My room was small and cozy and had a view of what I believe were residential apartments. I was near grocery stores, pharmacies, restaurants, and a laundromat which turned out to be convenient.
Hotel Muguet, 11 Rue Chevert, 75007 Paris – France: https://hotelparismuguet.com/
After settling in at my hotel, I took a short nap before getting ready for a decade in the making experience. During my third year of undergrad, I took my first of many art history courses. During one particular lesson, my professor introduced me to Sainte Chapelle, a small cathedral located in the shadow of the famous Notre Dame. While it was the architecture of the cathedral that my class was studying, it was the floor to ceiling stain glass windows that I fell in love with. When my professor shared that they often have concerts at sunset, and encouraged my class to go if we ever had the chance, I added it to my list of places to see and never gave up on my dream to someday visit…
Concert No. 1
Concert No. 2
Sainte Chapelle: http://www.sainte-chapelle.fr/en/
It was an amazing experience. I give it the Spanglish Girl stamp of approval and encourage everyone to go if they ever get the chance. After the concert, I stopped at a cafe next to the river near Notre Dame (which was closed due to the fire) for a chicken sandwich and french fries (#american) before returning to my hotel room for some sleep.
The next day, I had only one stop planned. And like Sainte Chapelle Cathedral, this next stop had also been decades in the making because of an art course. I spent my day at the Louvre Museum, which is not only the home of the Mona Lisa, but also home to the Arrival of Marie de’ Medici at Marseille by Rubens; and a pop-up Angelina restaurant.
By day three, I needed to do laundry and still hadn’t seen the Eiffel Tower up close, so I stayed near my hotel to be able to do both. While meandering through the streets in search of a laundromat, I stopped in at a French grocery store to grab some laundry detergent, which turned into an adventure in itself (thank god for google translate). How I was able to get a load of laundry going, without being able to read the instructions on the foreign laundry machine, was my second adventure of the day.
While my laundry washed, I stopped in at a small restaurant Le Florimond for lunch, ordered a strange appetizers that to this day I can’t identify, and salmon. My stomach finally happy, I made my way back to the laundromat, deposited my wet clothes in the dryer, and went in search of the Eiffel Tower.
It was easy to find, but I decided not to go up, since I was nearing the end of my budget. It was enough to enjoy it from below where I could see it in all its magnificence.
Day four marked the end of my trip. I said my goodbyes to Paris (for now) and took an Uber back to the station to catch a train back to London. After a long ride, my second stop for the day was Kings Cross Station, which also happens to be the station where you can catch the Hogwarts Express at Platform 9 3/4. Unfortunately I was out of time, and continued on to Gatwick Airport, where I stayed the night at an airport hotel, before hoping on a plane early the next day to head back home to Nevada.
Au Revoir!
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