The Joy of Revisiting Paris as a Tourist
Expat life in the City of Light is difficult, but visiting is delightful.
Dear Wanderers,
In October, I returned to Paris for the first time since late 2020. During my visit, I kept a notebook, as I did when we were living there. But while the notebooks of our Paris years were alternately desperate and gloomy, the notebooks of my solo ten-day visit reflected Paris through the awe-struck eyes of a tourist.
Dare I say that living in Paris was no picnic?
When we lived here, I felt trapped. As a visitor, I can wander. I have no responsibilities beyond finishing the book I started here. No school lunches to make, no homework to attend to, no wrangling with SVR (the French internet provider).
When my son and I boarded the plane from CDG to SFO on November 1, 2020, there was a bracing finality to it. Once we left, forfeiting the diplomatic passports that had allowed us to travel between the US and France and within the EU during the long sleep of 2020, we would not be able to return for some time. Who knew how long? It feels strange to leave a place you have called home when you know that the border will close behind you.
Ever since then, I’ve felt the need to return. Not for vacances, exactly. Rather for some kind of closure.
But now that I’m here, I’m glad I came. This is especially true today, when I have settled in to an airbnb in the Batignolles neighborhood in the 17th arrondissement.
Although we didn’t live in this neighborhood, it was only a fifteen-minute walk from our home by Parc Monceau in the 8th arrondissement. My husband, son, and I walked to Batignolles often in the evening for dinner at Brutus, and my husband walked to the Batignolles farmers’ market every Saturday. We both felt that, had we lived in this friendly neighborhood, surrounded by bakeries and farmers’ markets instead of consulates and office buildings and the rumbling Blvd Haussmann, we might have stayed in Paris longer. Who knows?
I do know that it feels right to be here. It’s not exactly the same, of course. The nature of cities is change—even a city like Paris, which prides itself on not changing. Much of the city is in a construction fever pitch, preparing for the Olympics. Several of the places I used to frequent have closed: the clean, well-stocked Marks and Spencer on FDR has been converted to an iffy Casino, Other Stories on Faubourg St. Honore has shuttered, as had the corner boulangerie we frequented in Batignolles.
After walking past it, I came upon a different bakery I’d never seen before, and there I bought a croissant and a coffee and the day’s special, a scone with chocolate chunks. The proprietor was very friendly and kind, and the croissant was wonderful.
I came across a little shop where I sometimes ordered coffee but had never had a meal, and I sat down for the formule midi—zuchinni pancakes with salad, a fresh-pressed juice (carrots, cucumber, and apple), and a slice of banana bread for dessert.
The formule midi is one of the treasures of French life. You’ll find it at almost every restaurant that is open during lunchtime. It includes a main plate, a drink, and a dessert. As my husband says, you have to appreciate a country where dessert—in the middle of the workday!—is considered a national right.
Here is my formule midi at Brutus on my second day in Batignolles: a savory crepe followed by a sweet crepe (chocolat noir maison et banane), along with a glass of cider.
I ate a lot of crepes in Paris. I visited a lot of museums. But my favorite thing to do in Paris was always walking. On this trip, I spent most hours of every day on my feet, wandering. And I spent many hours walking through my favorite parks—the Tuileries, Parc Batignolles, and especially Parc Monceau.
My plan in taking the trip to Paris was to get it out of my system. But that’s not how it turned out. It’s out of my system for the moment—but not for good.
Would I want to live there again? Probably not. Do I want to go there again? Yes. It feels like home but not home, deeply familiar yet vaguely mysterious.
Like we always told friends from home, “It’s a wonderful city to visit.”
Thank you for reading The Wandering Writer! If you enjoyed this post, you might also like these other posts from Paris in October: Adventures on rue de Seine, Cool Blue Morning, and Unfinished Business.
And if you are in the mood for something longer, you might enjoy one of my novels…