Paris Travelogue: A Second Breath, Bathed in the Light of the Holy Night

Prologue: The Promise of That Day, and Returning to the Land

For me, stepping onto the streets of Paris marks my second time doing so. My first visit to this land was on the way back from my work in Finland, Northern Europe. I stopped by Paris, squeezing it into my schedule, to get a birthday present for my beloved Kana. That hurried yet somewhat proud and heart-pounding time feels like just yesterday.

And now, we were heading to this capital of art once again. Once again, it was a breathless journey with a tight schedule using a late-night flight, battling the residual tasks of our extremely busy year-end work.

On the morning of our departure, we first put our two beloved dogs—important members of our family—into their buggy and headed to our usual veterinary clinic. For the next two nights and four days, including the overnight flight, their little training camp, essentially house-sitting, would begin. Though feeling the tug of reluctance at their lonely expressions, we left our home behind. From Jiyugaoka to Shinagawa. From there, we surrendered ourselves to the sway of the "Narita Express," racing toward the airport.

Premonition of the Holy Night and a Late-Night Takeoff

By the time we arrived at Narita Airport, the sun had completely set, and silence had begun to spread. After finishing a light meal to bring on board, we walked through the hushed airport lobby.

Just ahead, the brightly sparkling illuminations of a Christmas tree suddenly colored our vision. "Ah, it's almost Christmas."

From our daily lives chased by busyness and merely following numbers on a calendar, we were instantly pulled back into the heart of this special season. Just before 11 PM, the plane taking off into the cold night sky quietly slid down the runway with us on board and disappeared into the darkness. Our destination: early morning Paris.

Freezing Early Morning Paris and Human Warmth

After a long flight, we landed at Charles de Gaulle Airport in the still-dim, freezing early morning. For our transfer to the city, we had arranged a shared taxi in advance. As we got into the car, holding a slight tension about navigating an unfamiliar land, there coincidentally was a Japanese woman riding with us who spoke fluent French. Just as we were slightly bewildered by the language barrier, she very naturally stepped in to interpret for us.

"You really saved us, thank you so much."

How much we were saved by the kindness of a compatriot met in a foreign land. Thanks to her, without a single trouble and escaping our language difficulties, we were able to reach our destination smoothly. These kinds of coincidental encounters and warmth during a trip are exactly what make traveling so much richer.

It was just past 4 AM, still far from dawn, when the car stopped in front of the hotel. Our accommodation for tonight was "The Westin Paris - Vendôme," standing quietly near the Tuileries Garden. The staff greeted us with a smile and offered words that were incredibly joyous to hear: "Fortunately, the room you reserved is currently available. You may use it right away as a complimentary service."

That warm arrangement deeply permeated our bodies, stiffened by the fatigue of a long journey and the winter cold. We immediately entered the room and took a luxurious, brief rest while quietly waiting for the dawn.

Dawn Stroll: Street Corners of History Waiting for the Light

After resting our bodies for a while, we walked out into the streets of Paris wrapped in a deep blue, before the dawn had fully broken. The crisp winter air pleasantly stimulated our sleepy cheeks.

 

The Louvre was filled with a silence devoid of people, making the daytime bustle seem like a lie. The glass pyramid was bathing in the pale light of the streetlamps, glowing mystically. As if to preserve this beautiful moment for eternity, we walked slowly, occasionally snapping the shutter of our camera.

On our way back, we proceeded along the Rue Saint-Honoré. As we gazed at the street whose shop windows were beautifully decorated with Christmas ornaments, our view eventually opened up, leading us to the Place Vendôme. There, the majestic memorial column that Napoleon had built stood quietly towering. Looking up at its silhouette illuminated by the glow of the night lights, we felt the breath of Paris's deep history.

The Labyrinth of the Left Bank and a Small Baptism of a Different Culture

The Parisian sky was slowly beginning to turn white. Our "second time in Paris" thus opened quietly, yet supremely romantically. Emerging above ground at Saint-Germain-des-Prés, the savory aroma of freshly baked bread and espresso tickled our noses.

Just as a sense of impatience began to envelop us from getting lost in the labyrinthine streets, the stylish storefront of "La Maison du Chocolat" unexpectedly appeared. Kana let out a cry of delight, and as if guided by that sweet temptation, she vanished headlong into the store.

Meanwhile, I was struck by a sudden physiological need and found myself battling a sterile, fully automatic pay-booth public restroom. The moment the door closed, a roaring sound echoed as the automatic cleaning system activated. Surprised by this baptism of a different culture but impressed by its rationality, I hurried back to Kana.

In the crisp winter air, we walked the paths of the Luxembourg Gardens. That gentle time made us suddenly forget the rush of the trip and softly enveloped the two of us.

Supreme Art and the Slopes of Montmartre

Immersing ourselves in the lingering beauty at the Musée d'Orsay, we boarded the Metro once again toward the hill of Montmartre.

The exit of this station, situated halfway up a slope, lay beyond a mind-boggling spiral staircase. Even the process of climbing it step by step, out of breath, has now become a part of our beloved travel memories. Trusting and following a street lined with souvenir shops, we found ourselves at the bottom of the hill amidst the clamor of the Moulin Rouge. Holding an overflowing amount of luggage, we decided to return once to our hotel.

The Champs-Élysées Sparkling on the Holy Night, and Onward to the Next City

Adorning the finale of our trip was a stroll through the market where the lights of the Holy Night flickered. Our final destination was the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, clad entirely in winter brilliance.

At Concorde station, we were swallowed by a wave of crowds aiming for the exit. The frenzy of the market had surged underground, and the stairs had completely stopped moving. By the time we finally crawled above ground, a fatigue beyond words enveloped our entire bodies.

Even so, as the cold winter wind caressed our flushed cheeks, catching sight of the brilliantly shining tree-lined avenue leading to the Arc de Triomphe made our fatigue vanish. Gazing at the bustling stalls and having our hearts stolen by the glittering shop windows, we walked as if to cherish this final night in the city.

The hurried yet deeply soul-etching trip to Paris was about to close its curtains. Tonight, avoiding the clamor, let's quietly share a drink with a light meal we found nearby. This simple evening meal spent with the one I love is, after all, the greatest luxury of all.

Early tomorrow morning, another new journey will begin. Boarding the Eurostar from Gare du Nord, onward to our next stage, London—. Our journey is not over yet.