Paris: who knew a magic kingdom existed in her realm?

while our intention at first was to spend more than a few days exploring Paris, we learned that family who is dear and special and lovely would be near, so we flexed our plans to travel outside the city of lights to Marne de Levee. plus, who couldn’t resist icy princesses and the queen of hearts?


we arrived to Disneyland Paris by express coach from the 1st arroindsement, a quick and very comfortable ride, plagued by sleeping women and open-mouthed children and snoring men. we entered the park and waited to meet our loved ones. after some searching, we finally found the Scottish clan, and high pitched giggles resounded for kilometers.


there wasn’t much planning on our part for the actual park itself, so we queued for meals, rides, trains, and more rides. while fastpass is available at this Disneyland, it still runs on tangible tickets, unlike in the americas where everything is conveniently booked on the mobile. no complaining was heard, however, as the time was spent laughing and playing and renewing familial bonds.


the few rides we embarked were reminiscent of Magic Kingdom, where flying boats and pirates and small world wonders wreaked havoc on our adult brains. les petit enfants stared with delight as each attraction began, and moaned in distaste when we had to exit. it was worth the wait just to see the look of wonder on their faces.


we ate and drank and loaded our stomachs with sugary goodness. we ran ourselves ragged walking around the park, filling our eyes with tourists and overactive children, while our lungs seeped with remnant second hand cigarette smoke.


as the day ended, our bodies succumbed to the exhaust of it all. we said our tearful au revoirs and boarded the bus back to Paris.


in the morning, we would begin our journey to Beaune, the key to the sommelier’s heart.


it’s been a nuit fatiguée, y’all.

Paris: arising in the city of lights

petit birds chirp rapidly in the 5th arrondissement, the full moon fading from nigh as the dawn begins to break over the historic rooftops. the streets outside are quiet, lacking the bustle of midday tourists, the only sounds of sweet fowl lyrics and the occasional shopkeep arriving for the day.


our apartment sits high above the street across the isle from Norte Dame. in a few hours her bells will clang loudly across the cityscape, as to wake the people from their sinful slumbers and decadent dreams. pigeons will flock to her square, pecking at the cobbled ground, spying on pesky toddlers for tossed crackers and bits of bread.


it’s been several years since I walked the streets of Paris, felt entrapped by her concrete beauty, intoxicated by her golden inlays and glistening crowns. not much has changed, sans the small military gangs patrolling France’s most harbored treasures. rightfully so, yet a painful reminder of the cost of security in the wake of increased globalization. nonetheless, the city of lights still glitters with fervor and adulation.


the air is cool and crisp and fresh with energy. when sommkid arrived, her excitement was pinpointed, focused on the Iron Lady of the horizon, the glittery facade imprinted in the mind of an impressionable girl.


yet we walked the banks of the River Seine, admired the hosts of rebound books dusty with years of dedication to the written word. we culled over crepes layered with nutella and bananas and seeping with gooey deliciousness and all that is Paris. we rode carousels. then we walked some more.


and when all was said and done, when the stain glass windows were viewed in opulence, the museums perused, the cheese half eaten, and the rillette devoured… we drank wine and admired the view from our apartment window. tomorrow is another day, one in which these two ladies might just meet.


sante, y’all!