À Paris

 Maybe I should write a little bit about my solo city trip I made a couple of months more than a year ago because there might still be people around who want to read and learn from the experiences of others.

It won’t be a story about the adrenaline rush of leaving your hotel room in de dark of the night, it will be pretty mundane actually. Except for the fact that I happen to be a transwoman doing this. It might say something about my passing privilege, though I think I don’t pass most of the time. Anyway, I didn’t encounter any awkwardness in conversations with strangers. Neither was I harmed by the punaises au lits, which apparently have a name these days.

Jour 1: Arrivée et promener au la petite ceinture du 15ême

I think I did pass as a local, as both locals and tourists asked me for directions a couple of times. Because the place was Paris, and it was next to impossible to overdress.

I had planned this for quite a while, but then the Bataclan terrorist attack happened, and thereafter COVID came along. Not the best time to travel around. So in this rare window of opportunity, I booked myself a premium class train trip to un bon hôtel près de Tour Eiffel. I always wanted to do a trip by that venerable French-made high-speed train TGV.

As a transwoman in no transition nor having done any name-changing paperwork I booked both the train and hotel on my passport name, which is different from the name I use presenting as female. I did leave a note with the hotel that I could be doing the check-in as my other appearance.

The journey was quite uneventful, though there was almost no place anymore for luggage when I boarded the train. That meant lifting my somewhat heavy suitcase in the overhead rack, which is not impossible but a bit awkward to do when you decided to dress très chique for your journey.

After arriving at Gare du Nord it was a bit of a puzzle to push the right buttons on the card vending machines, but then I could continue my journey using the métro towards my hôtel. And again, dressing does not meet practicality. 

The hotel check-in was also uneventful and I complimented the receptionist on his beautiful polished nails.

It was still beautiful weather with the sun shining, and I quickly swapped my heels for my trainers and went out for a long walk.

Along Pont de Bir-Hakeim and across the Île aux Cygnes I ended up at the statue de la liberté. Yes, that one but then smaller. Fooled a couple of friends by telling them that I was in New York.

Still looked good outside, and I continued my stroll along the Seine, through Parc André Citroën and Jardin Eugenie-Djendi towards one of the perhaps lesser-known gems of the always busy city of lights, la petite ceinture du 15ême: A city jungle snaking where once was a rail line which is converted to a park bit by bit. I followed the tracks up to Parc Georges Brassens where the track became off-limits again. Near the park was a really lovely book market. 

After exploring the area for a while and getting really sure there was no normal way back to the tracks I got to the nearest metro station and got out at Invalides. From there walked back to my hotel, made a video call with my mum, and found a spot to eat. Spoke with two American ladies who gave me a tip for the appetizer.

Jour 2: du Louvre et de la Tour Eiffel

The day was a bit action packed, visiting both the Louvre and the top deck of the Eiffel Tower. Especially as I only got an afternoon slot for the museum as opposed to the desired late morning one. This gave me approximately an hour to have a peek at the vast museum with over 400 rooms and thousands of paintings. Oh well, even with a week one would not manage to fathom their entire collection.

Trying to be smart I tried to queue early, but I was picked out and had to wait for my time to get in the queue. The only thing that helped a bit,  it was pouring and fewer people were up to standing for a long time in the rain as I learned from one of the waiters where I got my coffee. Not that rain is a problem, as a lot of street sellers try to sell you one, whether you’re carrying one or not. A fast and repeated Umbrellaumbreallaumbreallaumbrealla seems to illustrate the urgency of their unsolicited sale requests.

Once inside, I followed the maelstrom of people and automatically ended up at a) the coffee corner and b) the Mona Lisa. A renowned and small portrait of a mundane woman who was drawn in an anatomically correct manner and the use of perspective which was a deviation from the pre-Renaissance styles which were more iconic with halos and very warped body features. And babies with adult faces. A painting that was a bit larger was the coronation of Napoleon as emperor, which was like reaching from the floor and towards the ceiling. Also, these chambers are not small...

Rushing out of the Louvre, grabbing another metro towards the Eiffel Tower and the second queue with extensive security checks, not unlike those seen at airports. Most tourist attractions have that level of security. 

Transported as the sardines in a tin can the people eligible for their time slot, including me, reached the very destination: the 280 meters high observation deck. I got a glass of champagne to celebrate and admired the views until the clouds obscured the city again, urging me to go down again. Yes, you’re really above the clouds. My impression of the Eiffel Tower is that there is really a lot of steel in that construction and definitely has a steampunk art nouveau vibe.

Had dinner at a place close to my hotel, the food was ok but overpriced (as about anything in citycentre). I eavesdropped on a conversation of Australians (I think, judging by the accent). J’aimerais savoir comprendre le français le même niveau que je comprends l’anglais un de ces jours…

Jour 3: Montmartre et le canal St Martin

Finally got around arranging for bike rental. I wanted to do that earlier, but I was pressed for time and it wasn’t that great weather to cycle around. But today it was! Quickly unlocked a bike and made a quick test drive. There are Velib (velo libre) stalls everywhere and the first 30 minutes are included in the subscription of your choice. Any additional time comes with an additional fee. Do mind the parked bikes with their saddles reversed, that is code language for “this bike is broken, don’t take it”. Together with the public transport pass it will give you quite some mobility in the city.

As the weather was changing for the better, so did my plans, and went to the Montmartre neighborhood before my canal cruise.

Plagued by the fickle working of my paper-with-magnetic-strip public transport pass in the days before, it was one of the first things I had to do: have it swapped for a new one. Apparently, that happens a lot and I got a new one as I didn’t have to explain that much.

Exiting the metro station took a bit more effort than imagined, I had to climb quite some stairs. No, I wore sensible shoes but I had to traverse some eight flights of stairs in a spiral staircase to get out of Lamarck-Cailaincourt. And that was not the last stairs of the day.

I could try to describe Montmartre, but better grab a copy of Le Fabuleux Destin d’Amelie Poulain and see for yourself. My walk visited a couple of locations from the movie: The Sacré-Cœur (quite busy, large lines, didn’t enter), Au Marché de la Butte (the grocery store, bought apples), Café des Deux Moulins (the cafe in the movie, didn’t enter as I had lunch just around the corner of the grocery store mentioned earlier), and canal St. Martin.

Ah yes, that is not exactly in Montmartre anymore, but it is a location from the movie! During my research in the months before on where to go, I learned that that canal has cruises that eventually end in the Seine. But wait, what? That canal doesn’t look connected to the Seine at all… unless… it… goes… underground? 

Good incentive to book it, and I was able to book a version that turns in a little Seine cruise too. A total of nine locks in the canal will drop you 25 meters from start to finish. Money well spent. Parc de la Villette at the starting point is also worthwhile a visit, especially if you’re fond of les miroir balls ginormoux. Or have kids.

Slight annoyance: the posh fellow country members (Amsterdam canal dweller types) who thought it was a pretty good idea to stand on the benches on the upper decks for a better view, yeah sure make sure you get decapitated when we encounter a bridge and such, not to mention that benches are for sitting usually and not for (dirty) shoes. Had some fun in the underground passage when kids tried to grab some vines hanging down from the skylights and I got accidentally caught in them. Then I wrapped the kids in the vines too, and their mum and I had to laugh.

Grabbed a pizza at the waterfront for dinner and did some sightseeing when walking back to the hotel.

Jour 4: Dans l’empire de la mort et haute couture

Started the morning with a little bike ride to see if I could reach Trocadéro there. It is good to see that Paris has dedicated bike lanes, and I heard they’re on track to make the city even more bike friendly.

Afterward, I took the metro to the Catacombs of Paris, where the remains of six million Parisians have been stored after the cemeteries were overflowing in the 19th century, and had to make room for more. I also learned that the catacombs are actually the former quarries of Paris that were mined for their limestone from which pretty much the city is built. The excessive mining also caused some sinkholes which gulped down entire buildings until strict regulations were set in.

The same thing happened again in the queue as happened during visiting the Louvre, I was too early for the queue and had to use another queue. In the queue I heard two Dutch ladies talking to each other and as it was quite interesting this introvert made the bold decision to chime in. That proved to be a good move and we bonded for the tour. One of the ladies had lived in Paris in the 70’s and was giving her friend a tour of the town. I learned that in that time you just couldn’t venture out as a woman (in the metro) without being groped all the time, luckily times have changed. They also had some delicious chocolate traits which you could shop at Muji so I knew what to do. I had told them about the derelict railway turned park and we continued to team up after the catacombs to find the entrance to the entry of la Petite Ceinture du 14ême. Didn’t find that, but we continued to talk and sightseeing until we parted ways.

Found the Muji shop at Les Halles. Then walked towards the Carrousel du Louvre (the alternative underground entrance) and did some souvenir shopping. Did you know “souvenir” just means “remembering” ?

Talking about souvenirs, I also had my eye on a specialty item but that needs a background story.

Earlier this year I visited the Japanese influenced clothing exhibition at Rotterdam’s Nieuwe Instituut and one of the pieces I saw where the Maison Margiela heeled tabi boots. As a connoisseuse of fashionable footwear, I thought that would be an interesting purchase. Yeah, could have bought that over the Internet but I went for the experience of entering their store and doing a proper fitting which is a must at their price.

So I biked over to Avenue Montaigne and in good company of other stores from Dior, Louis Vuitton, Prada, and YSL I found the Maison Margiela store. That these were not your average stores became clear quite quickly. Every store had a security guard at the door who would let you in, and matched an advisor with you.

Slightly nervous I made my entry and waited for my advisor to come. I looked around in the store but I didn’t dare to touch anything, On the one hand out of etiquette that might not even exist. On the other hand, it is just very expensive. Ok, that might be just one reason then. My advisor showed up and we went to the upper floor where the ladies' department is. All advisors were wearing what looked like lab coats but were, in fact, the “blouses blanches” as worn by tailors, and are a nod to both history and emphasizes equality amongst the employees as everyone wears the same. Another aspect I like about this fashion house, is they are quite weary of fame and its founder tried to stay as anonymous as ever and hardly gave any interviews, and if he did it was collectively with the design team. Their items are classified with just numbers. Shoes are category “22”. Oh, and they tout their items to be all gender/gender neutral. Lucky me!

He couldn’t find a pair in black and my size straight away, but while I was trying similar shoes for their fitting he managed to find them. “It must be my lucky day” I replied to him and asked whether there was a similar French expression for that. He told me there wasn’t really one but occasionally “jour de chance“ is used, 

With a ginormous bag and a lighter wallet, I returned to my hotel, not by bike but in the rush hour metro.

Later that evening I made a video call with my family from Place du Trocadéro to show them the sparkles of the Eiffel Tower that happened on the hour. After that, I tried to grab some food. The first place was a restaurant but as with all restaurants in Paris centre you need to reserve well in advance. The probably as expensive dinner cafes had a place for me and again concluded my day with a long hot bath.

Jour 5: Le Marais, Centre Pompidou, et revisiter la Tour Eiffel le soir

For this day I planned to do the “Fashionable Haut Marais” walk from the guidebook. Instead of immediately jumping on the number 6 metro I grabbed a rental bike to my transfer point for line 8 towards Le Marais (the swamp). When I arrived at the starting point of the tour I realized I made the capital mistake that I left the guidebook at the hotel and that I didn’t memorized the route. I do not know whether that would have helped, as Le Marais is also a bit like Le Maze without any recognizable points I still could remember from the guidebook. Thus enter plan b, let’s grab a bike a wander around aimlessly. The aimlessly part would eventually turn into “Let’s check the St Martin canal underground part from above”. And indeed, wouldn’t have suspected there was a channel underground these ventilation grates. Spotted more of the “Invader was here” artwork which is all over the place if you have the eye for it, but there was plenty of other street art too. And nice boutiques. Took a little break and a photo op near the lock where the channel goes underground. After finding a working bike on the other side of the channel I continued to home in on my next todo for the day, visiting the modern art museum Centre Pompidou.

But not on an empty stomach, so I dropped by Caffé Vito, one of the many LGBT places that Le Marais is sprawled with. Using my baby French to place an order and not realizing they offered a bottle when I asked for a glass of water. Haha, that will teach me. I’ll get there, eventually… 

After lunch, I walked up to a place I spotted on my way here which had a ginormous queue in front of the shop. It was nothing less than a Studio Ghibli pop-up boutique. Despite the queue, I was inside the shop in about 15 minutes. Many lovely items and I went out  with (My Neighbour) Totoro chopsticks. 

Arriving at Centre Pompidou the lines were dramatically long (again, as with everything in Paris) but there were a lot more entrances so it didn’t take too long to get inside. All the lockers in the wardrobe were occupied but the museum staff told me there were more lockers upstairs. And yes getting upstairs is fantastic on their signature escalator, which snakes on the side of the building. I must say, I do adore both the palace quality of the Louvre as I do the near brutalist modernity of Centre Pompidou. And again the same thing happened again as happened with me in the Louvre after I had soaked up all the art there: Forgot my locker code and again museum staff rescued my bag from the grasp of the locker. Yeah, there might be some overstimulation acting up there…

Went back to my hotel and went for dinner in the pouring rain in the neighborhood. It is the part of town that is so touristy that restaurants grab people off the street for their establishments. Skipped one but Cafe Fleur looked nice so I went there. The food was (again) pricey but ok. With slightly less downpour I walked towards the entrance, trying to avoid the deep mud puddles in the park’s gravel paths. I had the idea to take the stairs back to the first floor but due to the weather, I stayed on the second floor. Tried to make a video call but the cellular reception wasn’t that great up there. Went back to the hotel to take a long bath one more time.

Jour 6: Rentrer chez moi

My train went in the afternoon so after checking out and leaving my suitcase at the hotel I went for a quick dash towards the last thing for which I had a ticket, Arc de Triomphe. 

Oh my, and another ginormous queue. This and that fact you had to walk all the stairs decided me to skip this and keep it for a future occasion as I still needed my legs for the rest of the day, hauling along my heavy suitcase. 

At Gare du Nord my train’s departure was delayed as an unattended object had to be inspected first by the emergency services. After the platform was cleared I continued my trip home.

Un an plus tard...

Quoi je peux vous dire? Paris a volé mon cœur et je revenais l’année prochaine…

My ticket for Arc de Triomphe was still valid and I visited both Centre Pompidou and the Louvre again. Definitely took more time for the Louvre. Had an interesting encounter with a missing toilet seat there and I chilled in a chair in the Tuileries gardens in the warm autumn sun. Pompidou had an interesting exhibition on comics I wanted to see. This time I remembered my locker codes.

I explored more of la Petite Ceinture and found the entrance to the 14th arrondissement of it, and yes the views were as wild as I had envisioned. One of the tunnels there has access to the catacombs but besides it is highly illegal you’ll also need to be prepared to enter the cavernous subterranean passageways. Visited many more places from my to-do list and it certainly won’t be the last time I’ve visited this intriguing city. Did the bike rental thing again but switched the paper metro ticket for a Navigo easy pass which would let me check in by just swiping my smartwatch in front of the turnstile. The Notre Dame was still enclosed by plenty of scaffolding.