Wednesday was art day – Juliette and I decided that we’d visit just one big museum on our trip and when she asked me pick one, I quickly decided on the Pompidou, as I knew she’d like the modern vibe.  Plus, ok, it’s my fave.  First, though, breakfast!

Ah, the climb to the galleries through the glass-tubed escalators.  Such anticipation!

We wandered among the paintings and sculptures, pausing at whatever piqued Juliette’s interest.

And then at my old friends Dubuffet and Miro.

Rooftop views of Rue St. Martin…

And the descent.  Lunchtime!

We lunched in style at the Hotel du Louvre, lingering extra-long over our cold drinks to rest our museum-worn feet.

And since we were in the neighborhood…a quick pop over to the courtyard of the Palais Royale.

Though our morning at the Pompidou had nearly art-ed us out, Juliette couldn’t say no when I asked if she wanted to visit the Galerie Dior to see the designer’s massive fashion exhibit.  I had her at the word “dresses”.

We walked from one display to the next, choosing our favorite gown from each grouping.  Juliette often chose the flowiest, most decorative pieces.  My girl’s got a flair for the fancy.

I was suddenly feeling a little schlumpy in my jeans and sneakers…

Whew…staircase of her dreams.

We were legitimately beat after Dior – the long hours on our feet and the visual overload of art-viewing had zapped us.  But we energy-boosted with pizza, Coke, and a Spritz.  Every time we stopped at a sidewalk cafe for a beverage break, I could feel our tanks refilling, heart icons lining up before my eyes like they do on video games when the hero wins extra lives.

And to top it off, hot chocolate from Carrette, which came with an obscene tower of freshly whipped cream.  This stuff was RICH.

But so, so yummy.

Seconds, Jules?  “Don’t mind if I do!”, she said.

It was a short walk to Place du Trocadero from Carrette and we found an open spot to sit and watch the sun go down on the Tour Eiffel.

Wait for it…

It’s happening…

There she is!  All lit up and looking fine.  We walked down to the river, snapped a few photos, and then crossed the bridge for a closer-up view.

We stayed long enough to watch the sparkle show that occurs on the hour, which made Juliette gasp, and then high-tailed it back to our apartment where we once again slept like babies.

Thursday we were up early, out the door at 10:00 sharp (early is relative in Paris!) to catch a train out to Versailles.  Quality coffee to-go is becoming more and more of a thing in Paris and I was glad I’d reserved us enough time to pop into White for a latte and a chai.

We made it to Versaille’s front doors right on schedule, thankful that we’d bought advance tickets and could skip the line that snaked through the courtyard.  We spent the first 30 minutes in the less-crowded wing of the palace, getting a feel for it all.  And it was all unlike anything Juliette had ever seen before.

Eventually we joined the mass of tourists making their way through the Hall of Mirrors.  Such grandeur!

After the 87th gold-leafed, crystal-chandaliered room, we felt like we’d maxed out on opulence and decided to head out to the gardens.

Sitting felt good.

I was surprised to see so many flowers still in bloom.  This was a different kind of decadence and it felt refreshing!

We wandered through a couple of gardens and then let our stomachs lead us back toward town for a market lunch.

We spent much of the afternoon back at the apartment, napping (me) and vegging (Juliette), feeling like we’d most certainly earned our rest.  We rallied before dinner and headed back out to do a little shopping in the Marais.  I took Juliette to Mushkane, my favorite little felted-good shop, where we picked out a couple of trinkets for home.

Then we popped into Matieres a Reflexion to admire their latest jewelry offerings.  Mama got a brand-new necklace!  Happy Birthday to me, one more time.

Shopping buzz…

And then a sugar buzz, from the salted caramel bird’s nest at Maison Aleph.

Ok, and then a Coke buzz at Little Cafe.

Every evening I thought, maybe I’ll pass on the Spritz tonight.  And every evening I remembered that it was summer in October IN PARIS.  Cheers!

We dined in Saint Germain on steak frites at L’Atelier Rouliere, one of mine and LaV’s tried-and-true favorites.  Juliette isn’t the hugest fan of steak, but she admitted that as far as beef goes, it was pretty good.  But the fries…she declared the fries were to die for, so the caliber of our meal wasn’t lost on her!  It was a glittery walk across the Seine back to our apartment.

Bonne nuit, Paris!  Only one more full day to go…