Our first full day in Paris began with the rare luxury of sleeping in a little. We had tickets booked for the Louvre Museum at 10:30 a.m., which meant we did not have to launch ourselves into the city before sunrise. Instead, we eased into the morning and began walking toward the museum in search of breakfast, or brunch, or whatever meal happens when your body still thinks it is in a different time zone.
We found it the proper Parisian way: by wandering into a local boulangerie and choosing sandwiches made on fresh baguettes. These were not complicated sandwiches. No one was trying too hard. The bread was crunchy on the outside, soft on the inside, and filled with simple, perfect things like ham, cheese, chicken, and vegetables. Somehow the French can put normal ingredients inside bread and make you wonder what you have been doing wrong your entire life.
The kids called them “heaven sandwiches,” which felt accurate. Paris had officially redeemed us from airplane food.
From there, we walked about 20 to 30 minutes to the Louvre. We arrived early, but the Louvre does not care if you are eager and slightly overprepared. They would not let us in until our ticket time, so we waited outside until our turn came.
Once inside, we did what many families probably do in the Louvre: we got a little lost. But getting lost in the Louvre is not exactly a hardship. Around every corner was another hallway, another staircase, another painting, another statue, another room that made you feel like you had wandered into a royal palace that also happened to be filled with half the world’s treasures.
One of the first major sculptures we saw was the dramatic winged figure that looks as though she is standing at the front of a ship in the wind, likely the Winged Victory of Samothrace. It had that perfect museum quality where you are not entirely sure what you are looking at yet, but you know it is important because everyone is staring upward respectfully and taking photos from below.
Then we saw the Venus de Milo, the Mona Lisa, and several other famous works. The Mona Lisa, of course, came with her usual crowd. Seeing her is less like quietly admiring a painting and more like attending a polite, international shoulder-to-shoulder contest. Still, it was exciting to finally stand in front of something we had all seen in books, online, in school lessons, and probably on more souvenir mugs than any painting deserves.
We spent about two hours in the Louvre, which was enough to see highlights without completely melting into the marble floors. The Louvre is so enormous that after a while your brain stops saying, “Look, another masterpiece,” and starts saying, “Is there a bench anywhere nearby?”
After leaving the museum, hunger began creeping in. Then it marched in. Then it started making demands.
We were heading toward Notre Dame Cathedral, but we could not seem to find the right place to eat. This is one of the great travel mysteries: you can be surrounded by thousands of restaurants in a famous European capital and somehow still be unable to find food when your family needs it most.
Eventually, we found another bakery and bought more baguette sandwiches, this time chicken ones. Unlike earlier, when we had shared sandwiches, everyone got their own. This was not a minor detail. This was a turning point for family morale.
We passed Notre Dame and continued toward the Luxembourg Gardens, though some of the sandwiches were eaten along the way because waiting until the park was apparently too ambitious. By the time we reached the gardens, we found children sailing little boats in the large fountain, people relaxing in chairs, and a beautiful side fountain tucked away from the main paths.
The gardens gave us one of those classic Paris moments: elegant trees, gravel paths, fountains, families, and enough chairs to make you believe Parisians have truly understood the importance of sitting down.
Then the walking continued.
And continued.
And continued.
At some point there were detours, possibly scenic, possibly unnecessary, depending on whom you ask. Normand may have described them as “interesting routes.” The rest of the family may have described them with less generous language. By the end of the day, we had hit around 30,000 steps, making it our record-breaking walking day of the trip. Everyone was tired, though “a bit tired” may have been the polite version. “Our feet have filed a complaint with management” may have been more accurate.
We eventually returned to the hotel for a short break. Nobody fully went to sleep, although Normand did some suspicious dozing while trying to stay awake. Others used the downtime more productively, including a bit of online dress shopping.
That evening, we had tickets for the Eiffel Tower at sunset. So we set out again — yes, more walking, because apparently 30,000 steps was not enough evidence — and climbed up to the second level of the tower. We had hoped to go all the way to the top, but tickets were not available unless we repurchased everything, so the second level became our summit.
And it was worth it.
From the second floor, Paris spread out beneath us in every direction. The rooftops, streets, monuments, and elegant European architecture stretched into the evening light. From up there, the city looked less like a map and more like a living, breathing place — layered with history, beauty, and people all moving through their own stories below us.
As the sun began to set, the city softened into gold. We climbed back down while talking with family on Skype, sharing the moment from halfway around the world.
Afterward, we went looking for dinner. The Italian restaurant we chose was full, so they sent us across the street to their sister restaurant, where we ended the night with delicious Italian food. By then, exhaustion had fully caught up with us. Zak nearly fell asleep at the restaurant, which felt like a fitting end to a day that included the Louvre, Notre Dame, Luxembourg Gardens, the Eiffel Tower, sunset views, Italian dinner, and enough steps to qualify as a small pilgrimage.
