"Clark, you're on the wrong side of the road!" "Yes, I know, honey. I'm also on the wrong side of the car."

So last we left off, I was missing my bags and accepting Paris' challenge on having the best night ever in men's clothing. I was extremely dehydrated for that post, and, other "impediments" on my state of mind. And, none of that worked out, either. Luckily, an H&M (my new best friend) was at the famous Champs de Elysses shopping center in Paris, and I managed to snag two blouses. Were these blouses totally see-through? Yes, apparently in Paris, it's totes cool to see through women's clothes. Great, now I need a tank top.

Our first night out in Paris. Yes, that's Timothy's corduroy jacket. Whatevs, I look Parisian. 

Backtrack. After landing and accepting the fact I would wear the same clothes for the next few weeks, we went to pick up our rental car. Yes, rental car. Two Americans who have never been to Europe were attempting to drive in Paris. It seemed like a pretty good idea at the time.

For some reason, we were led just about everywhere in the airport other than the car rental. (As a side note, saying “Bonjour” does not get you special treatment.) Finally, we get our car, and Timothy tells me he totally knows how to drive a stick shift. Do I believe him? Of course! I’m not even going to discuss the following events, but after a quick lesson (or two, or three), Timothy got the hang of a manual, and we were on our way.

Parisian drivers are…interesting. Imagine New York taxi drivers, mixed with a few cups of coffee, surrounded by NOLA architecture, and you have yourself Parisian drivers. In addition to Timothy’s newly-learned stick shift skills, these crazy drivers, and the rain, my GPS was conveniently in my luggage, which as you know, was not in my possession. So we had a paper map, in Paris, in the rain, with a stick shift. It’s a miracle we’re still together (kidding).

Now we’re at the hotel, which is adorable and in the heart of Paris: Eiffel Rive Gauche. The friends we made were wonderful, and showed us the sights and sounds of “real” Paris. What to stay away from? Any restaurant with French fries or English anywhere on the menu. We did just that the entire time. 

Who knew I loved rabbit? 

Our lunch on our first day in Paris was at les Clos des Gourmets. We chose this little hidden gem because the menu was totally in French, there were no Americans in sight, and it was Michelin-rated. We sat down to our first experience with French waiters. 

Coming to France, everyone told me how the French service was sub-par to American, due to their "inattentiveness." This was our favorite part. The French waiters sit you down, get you your wine and water, and do not bother you again until they pour you more wine or bring you food. There is no awkward conversation about someone's major at some college you never heard of. Nope. Just more wine and food...constantly. 

Before our meal arrived, we watched a few Frenchies eat. They took slow bites, and between each bite, put down their forks and savored it. So we tried this. Our entire meal took 3.5 hours, and it was totally worth it. 

The first course was rabbit, followed by chicken and salmon, then a delicious chocolate molten brownie, then espresso. Timothy and I agreed: this was the most scrumptious meal either of us had ever eaten. Also, the restaurant had a KILLER view of the Eiffel Tower.

After lunch, we decided to get all touristy and stroll around Paris. No map; we just got lost in Paris for about ten hours. It was raining half of the time, but still the most beautiful place I’ve ever seen. Woody Allen nailed it in “Midnight in Paris” when he mentioned Paris’ beauty and magic at night and in the rain. Timothy and I discussed how we would describe Paris to non-visitors, and we could never quite get it right.

To those still reading, Paris is similar to New Orleans in architecture. The old French influence of New Orleans is bold and enchanting in Paris, everything looking at least 300 years old. The grounds are spotless, covered with colored cobblestone and sunken rock. It smells almost like chestnut when it rains in Paris, but not in a bad way. On every corner, there is a small café where you can eat the best crepes and drink the finest espresso. Every skyline opening contains a historic monument, totally lit up and seen for miles. Random street bands play throughout the night, but soft enough for it to be background music. No one was begging, complaining, or yelling; it was totally peaceful. Alexander Petrovsky (Yes, Savannah, I’m quoting Sex and the City) once said, “Paris is the greatest city in the world.” I think he may be right.

My only outfit. Special thanks to American Airlines. 

So, yes, I fell in love with Paris. While strolling today, we saw every major landmark I could ever want to see. It was a magical day, and I’m not doing it justice. We ate macaroons, drank too much espresso, bought fresh French bread and jam from a marketplace, and learned fun phrases in French. We saw the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Louvre, and about 10 museums. Every street has a French artist just waiting to be found. Although I will forevermore hold Paris to some ridiculously high ideal, it deserves it.

Lesson learned: Always choose Paris.

The Eiffel Tower light show. It was so beautiful, I legitimately cried. 

Entrance to the Louvre!

One of the many espressos we drank at a random cafe in Paris. 

Nom nom espresso!

Macaroons galore!

Oh, Paris. 

French bread for 1 Euro! Amazing. 

Notre Dame

Our french bread and jam!

Edit/ Someone asked me to discuss a con of Paris. Although not a con, the demeanor of Paris reminds me of a Nicholas Sparks meets 50 Shades of Grey novel. Beat that.