15-18 July 2019

We’ve started this post a few times, both as we were arriving in Paris and as the couple of days up here started to emerge. In retrospect, none of them struck quite the right tone – either overly optimistic or just cranky, when the right tone was probably something between gratitude and enjoyment, but with a definite undercurrent of learning. 

We knew what to expect going in. Our kids were incredibly excited about coming here. Paris (and the Eiffel Tower to be specific) were the symbol of this adventure. The one thing that the kids could latch on to as to where they were headed, what they were leaving the friends and their world behind to do (mainly thanks to the large picture outside the Flight Centre at Top Ryde, conveniently located between the Coffee Club and the toilets – we’ve walked past this most weekends over the last 2 years with promises that we would visit one day). 

We love Paris. We have spent many a long weekend here, enjoying fantastic meals and wine, people watching, sightseeing and museum hopping. All the things that kids generally don’t like to do. We remembered the amazing architecture, plentiful bistros and diverse mix of people. We also remembered the scale of the city, the ‘pelouse interdit’ (stay off the grass) signs and the fact that french kids were notoriously sophisticated and polite. There was nothing we were planning that we hadn’t already done ourselves, blissfully free and unencumbered by children, let alone opinionated 4 year olds. 

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Still, we had high hopes. We had a realistic itinerary with only one major ‘must see’ a day. We would show our kids the highlights, educate them on all the important bits, have locals comment on how cute and well behaved they all were and get out before they (or us) was overly jaded by the experience. We would be back by the pool in Lyon or Tuscany before the kids knew what had hit them. We might even hit a bistro or two along the way. 

We had, wherever possible, express entry tickets which would help us navigate the seemingly insurmountable masses that flocked to each of the ‘must sees’ around the city through this absolute peak period. And we had both survived and thrived in Tokyo, and equally massive city, in the middle of winter with even younger kids. We were all over this. 

We took an early train up from Lyon to give us a full day of sightseeing. After a late night the night before, that also meant we had two of the three with eyes rolling in the back of their heads with fatigue on the short TGV between the two cities. We arrived, crossed town on the metro to our place in Bastille and headed straight out to board the open top bus for a birds eye view of the major sights of Paris. 

Our objective for the first day was to sketch the Eiffel Tower whilst picnicing on the Champs de Mars. Sounds reasonable doesn’t it? 

The bus was a great way to show the kids the major sights of Paris for the first time. From our boarding point just across from Notre Dame, it crawled along Rive Gauche, around Place de la Concorde, along the Champs Elysee and around the Arch de Triomphe, all the time teasing us with views of the Eiffel Tower. Jessie was in conniptions to finally see it. 

We bundled off the bus at the Champs de Mars, picked up supplies and headed to the grass for our picnic. Picnics were eaten and sketches were drawn. 

It sounds easy but it involved a fair amount of walking (particularly if you’re 4) and the protest votes were well and truly being cast. Sena took to conducting regular ‘sit ins’ and bursting into tears at random – often immediately followed by laughter and cuddles. There were tantrums thrown that sketches weren’t up to the requisite standard (whatever that was) and much storming off. Sketches were finished. Then more walking. And some more tears. And more carrying. Eyes rolling around in the back of heads. Cross town metros. And finally bed. And snoring. 

Tomorrow would be different. They would be better rested. 

Tomorrow was Versailles. The plan was to get there early, whizz through the chateau –  focusing on the good bits – and as a result the kids would miraculously develop an appreciation of the largesse of the 18th century French monarchy and understand the drivers and outcomes of the French revolution and its enduring impact on our society today.

What actually happened was we arrived after 4 trains and almost 2 hours of travel, we walked to the Chateau and the kids, particularly the 4 year old, were already cooked. 

On the train to Versailles we had been reading about the history of France around the end of the 18th century, and particularly Louis XIV, who came to the throne at age 4 and ruled for 72 years and who played a leading role in the story of Versaille. Immediately we renamed Sienna ‘King Pea’ and imagined what life would be like under her rule. 

Would it be love and ‘huggles’ every day? Would pleasing grandparents become a national obsession? Or would the dark side of her moods take over, and would we all be sent to the guillotine when she was overtired, underfed or generally unhappy? These questions alone powered Jessie and Ellie throughout the day. 

There is no question that Versailles is amazing. Jessie was intrigued by the gold leaf covering large parts of the fencing, the roof and inside this enormous complex. What was even more amazing was being able to walk past the 2,000 odd people that were queuing in orderly lines in full sun outside the entrance at 11am because we (Liz) had been organised enough to buy our tickets in advance and at a specific entry time online. 

We did the rounds through the interior of the chateau, but to be honest there is not much there for a 4 and 7 year old, other than the legs and feet of the thousands of other tourists who are inevitably doing what sometimes feels like the same forced march through the structure. The main focus of our visit was to see a picture of Marie Antoinette (and imagine what she would look like without a head, and how the revolutionaries felt after they beheaded her), the Hall of Mirrors (to satiate Ellie’s WWI obsession, and because its amazing) and to get the kids to get interior design ideas for the new house (four poster bunks and chamber pots anyone?) 

We lasted about 2 hours (a good chunk of which was spent finding the ‘secret exit’ (Ikea style) to get out after we’d seen the Hall of Mirrors). By that time, Sena had lost the power of speech and movement and Jessie was in a trance. Ellie, surprisingly, was all over it (this was to become a trend for our Paris adventures). 

Finally discovering an entrance, we bailed and hit the gardens, on the search for some bikes to aid our exploration. We made our way through the incredible manicured gardens (again, all about the ideas for the new house, particularly the sculptured hedges) and contemplated what we could do if we had a $2bn budget to spend on our house (the cost of Versaille in today’s money). 

We grabbed a quick picnic lunch and then hit the bike rental, just outside the entrance to the formal Versaille gardens. If anyone is planning a trip to Versaille with kids, its a must do. They had bikes of all shapes and sizes, including seats for infants and bikes with training wheels. We considered getting Sena her own bike, then remembered we actually wanted to see something, so she settled for a seat on the back of Anthony’s. We made our way (Jessie in the lead) around the cross shaped lake, sheltered from the midday sun by beautiful trees in perfect lines. We stopped to sketch the lake at one stage. Even Ellie closing her eyes and cycling straight into a tree (don’t ask me why) did not detract from the time. It was magic, and more than compensated for the hussle of the morning. 

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When we returned the bikes, Sena burst into tears. A sure sign of success. 

From there, we rented a row boat, for a tranquil row around the lake, accompanied by a few fearless ducks and maybe 60 other tourist boats. Following several near misses (everyone seems to forget to look behind them, even though they know they are going backwards) we had one full on bump, and, to add to the excitement, Jessie lost her hat in the water (being of high quality, paper based product it quickly sank (fun side note – this joins the list of items lost or broken in the first week of our trip including Ellie’s goggles (lost), Anthony’s sunglasses (broken) and Sienna’s dignity (lost, several times over). 

Anyway, it was a fantastic afternoon, topped by ice cream to give strength for the journey home. 

We arrived back at our place (Hotel des Arts, metro Charonne near the Bastille) for a quick hour of downtime before heading out to meet our friends. (Another side note, we loved staying at Bastille previously, love the prices relative to other areas of Paris and really liked the hotel… however it did feel like we spent alot of our time going from the central/west of Paris (where most things are) to the east of Paris (where we were) on this trip. 

That night, we got to catch up with our friends Julie and Stefan and their kids Dylan and Thomas. We met them in a lovely pizza place (Mokus L’Ecureuil) just by the Trocadero and had a great night catching up, eating pizza and finishing with probably the best macaroons that we’ve ever had (from Carette) whilst playing at the Trocadero and watching the Eiffel Tower change colour in the sunset. It was lovely to see Julie, Stefan and family and there is no doubt that the best way to see anywhere is to do it with local friends! 

Another late night, another early start (how did we think this was going to be OK??). The following morning we had 9am tickets to the Louvre, and firm promises to the kids that this would be the only excursion of the day. They were up at 7 and we were at the Lourve at 840 (secret squirrel entrance at Le Carrousel du Louvre, rather than the main gate), pre booked, timed ticket in hand, focussed on getting to the Mona Lisa before you had to wait 2 hours to catch up glimpse. The plan seemed promising as we joined a queue of about 30 people waiting to get it, 5 minutes later there would have been 300 people behind us. Then the pre booked tour groups arrived, and suddenly we were in a sea of people all with the same objectives, and most with longer legs to allow faster navigation of the museum. 

9am arrived… then 9.05 and it wasn’t until 9.10 that our own personal ‘side stampede’ happened. From 9am there was much fidgeting, swearing in a multitude of languages and continual looking at watches as our particular ‘side mass’ fretted that the ‘main mass’ would gain access earlier and therefore hit the main objective sooner. Finally the gates opened, bags were ‘checked’ (by that I mean security guards were employed to glance at bananas at the top of Anthony’s relatively large backpack without any heed of the contents beneath) and through we went. We navigated directly to ‘La Jaconne’, went around the (still empty) maze of crowd control barriers and actually got to see the famous picture for a full 7 seconds and with only 20 or so of our new found friends/fellow questors before the security guard moved us along. 

It sounds bad but actually it was kind of fun. We were close enough to see the many layers of paint on the picture and the kids were able to test the theory that they eyes follow you (they do). And, most importantly, we didn’t line up for 2 hours to get there (thanks Liz). 

By then (9.20) Sena was over the Louvre and Paris in general. If she had in fact been King Pea, we would have all been marched off to Place de la Concorde for a swift beheading then and there. To make matters worse, someone (maybe Anthony) had suggested that there might be a ‘panda room’ in the Louvre (on further enquiry, there is actually no pandas of any description in the Louvre, let alone a dedicated room). This did not help the mood. 

We pointed out ‘puppy dogs’ in 14 century tapestries – this seemed to buy us some time. At another time, we just started pointing out pandas that weren’t even there. That also worked for a relatively short while. But let’s face it, the Louvre is not built for 4 year olds (you can’t even ride on shoulders, so you have to walk). 

Despite the protestations, our next stop was the The Winged Victory of Samothrace. When we arrived, we had this amazing 2nd century BCE Greek sculpture to ourselves. We found ourselves a seat and started to sketch her. Sena drew a Panda and an Eiffel Tower. Other visitors arrived shortly thereafter and briefly admired our little group and the fact that we had small children not only appreciating Greek sculpture but actively engaging with it. A quick glance at what we were drawing exposed us as the hacks that we were and they quickly moved on. 

So far, so good… if it wasn’t for the fact that Sena was now face down on the floor, refusing to move – unless it was for a Panda or another bike ride. 

Instead, we served up more classic French art (being the Louvre, the distance between each piece was effectively a suburb away, however the roads comprised draw droppingly beautiful rooms that would be amazing even if they weren’t filled with priceless art). We targeted the Liberty Leading the People and The Raft of the  Medusa – a suitably child friendly painting depicting a shipwreck of the coast of Maritius where 150 sailors ended up on a life raft with a lot of wine and subsequently spent their time drinking, murdering and eating each other until only 15 survived. Real PG stuff, but an incredible painting all the same. 

By 11am we were done. Jessie and Sena were a puddle on the floor. Ellie, to be fair, was loving it and managed to skip off and see the Venus de Marlo with Liz whilst Anthony supervised fervent ‘there’s no place like home’ phone watching by the little kids. Much as we would have loved to spend more time at the Louvre, the time had come to raise the white flag and head out. Ellie would be disappointed, Jessie and Sena could come back when they were older, and we would return (again)… either by ourselves or when we could afford more babysitting! 

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We made our way to the main entrance of the Louvre and spent some time sketching the building itself and the iconic glass pyramid (generally successful, punctuated with a few more tears and questioning of ones artistic ability). 

From there, it was to the Tuileries for lunch, via a tantrum from Sena (this is a skill that she has been honing whilst in Paris, no doubt in response to what we’ve subjected her to)… and then we agreed to split up. Anthony and Ellie would go exploring further, Jessie and Sena would go to bed, to allow us to head out to a brasserie for dinner that night. 

Anthony and Ellie went off to explore the Tuileries and hit Decathlon, hiring a ‘Lime’ motorised scooter to help expedite the process (cheaper than the metro, good fun and not entirely safe). The trip to Decathlon may have been Ellie’s highlight of Paris…. She has been after a bikini for about a year and we have pushed back… however it seems that all the kids here have one, so we acquiesed. (NB: on arrival at Decathlon, we selected a bunch of styles that she liked, but we needed to get the help of the shop assistant to work out how to put them on – real dad of the year stuff). 

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That night, we decided to take the kids out to dinner at a local brasserie. We’ve read ‘French kids don’t throw food’ and had survived the previous night out with our friends children. We were adamant we could make this work (and without 2 dimensional assistance). We packed colouring and UNO – the stables of french kids eating at local diners. We could do this. 

We arrived at our brasserie of choice near our hotel. We found ourselves some seats outside. We ordered our drinks – sirops for the girls (more interesting than water, cheaper than sprite) and a bottle of wine for us. Sena started whinging, Jessie shouting, the girls generally squabbling. Within 3 minutes, Sena was on an iPad, satiated. Our fellow clientele scoffed but was secretly pleased that the uncouth foreigner had been silenced. Our drinks arrived. Evian for the girls syrop. 

‘Really?’ we asked. 

‘The owner makes me do it’ he replied. 

We changed our bottle order to glasses and decided to find somewhere else to eat. 

The drinks arrived with nuts. We spilled them. Pigeons everywhere. Someone started drawing on the table. 

French kids may not throw food. It turns out ours do. And they do graffiti. And they’re loud. And their manners need some work. 

We left. 

Our second attempt was more successful. 

We found another place just outside our hotel, lucky to find a table of 5 on the outdoor terrace, perfect for people watching. It was too noisy for Sena, so we moved to the back of the restaurant. We could have been anywhere, but we were together, and no one was whinging. 

It was the perfect time for ‘the chat’. 

Not the ‘New York’ chat (‘are we going to stop sleeping with other people and go exclusive?’) or the work ‘chat’ (‘am I going to be fired now?’). This was more the ‘how are we going to do this without killing each other and/or being killed by others and/or getting exiled from France or potentially the whole of the European Union this year’ chat. 

We acknowledged the obvious challenges around travelling with kids around Paris (despite our best efforts, there are lots of things we could do differently and better next time). We acknowledged that this year was about learning and growing. 

But, this wasn’t just about us. It was time for the girls (particularly Ellie and Jessie) to ‘step up’ and take responsibility for themselves, their stuff and (to an extent) their happiness. We needed responsibility, open minds and optimism. 

We needed to change how we were doing things collectively to make our trip successful. 

We needed to step up in how we were parenting, and we needed them to step up in how they were responding to an environment which was different, difficult and tiring. 

We made a pact. We now have hand signals. We’ve reset and we’re ready for the next challenge. 

Then we ate our body weight in charcuterie, steak, salad and red wine and all was good with the world. 

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Jessie had requested a ‘doona day’ the following day, and we settled on a late start and a cruisy trip up to Montmatre instead. 

Anthony started the day with the run he’d been eyeing off for the entire trip – around Bastille, down to the Seine and along past Notre Dame, Ile de la Cite, the Louvre, Tuilleries and Place de la Concorde, much of it with the Eiffel Tower poking out at various points… all before Paris really woke up. It was enough to reinstil anyone’s love for this amazing city. 

We followed this with a trip to the local boulangerie for breakfast and a ‘slow start’ for the girls whilst Liz and Anthony went for some ‘parents time’ across the road to enjoy some unencumbered people watching, coffee and kid free conversation (all part of the new pact). 

From there, where made our way up to Montmatre, which quickly descended into a souvenir buying trip (we hit budget in Paris, so the kids got to buy their souvenirs). Mini Eiffel Towers and new souvenir dresses were the order of the day. 

The remainder of the day was spent shopping for lost items…. a hat for Jessie, sunglasses for Anthony and a world class tantrum from Sienna in the middle of Les Halles. Spectacular by anyone’s standards. 

It has to be said that we were exhausted by the time we arrived at Gare de Lyon for our TGV back to what felt like ‘home’. Paris remains like a fickle 4 year old, full of love and cuddles one glorious minute, causing us screaming tantrums the next (often due to metro based fatigue). We do, and always will love it, and we will continue to learn how to ‘do it’ best for our current circumstances, whatever they may be. 

The door gave us a little kick on the way out as we paid 40 euros excess luggage fee for our train trip (for a train? Really?) and passed it off as our own personal ‘dickhead tax’ (our waiter last night would have been cheering)

We’re now on our TGV on our way back south. Beer in hand, contemplative, the negatives already fading, being replaced by visions of the many positives that will remain stamped on our memories. 

We laughed, we cried, we had face down screaming tantrums at multiple locations. But we saw the Eiffel Tower, the Mona Lisa and cycled around Versaille. We have started to understand how we will respond to trials and tribulations that will be this year. And we are learning. These are all good things.