Going on a big trip with a loved one can cause a lot of stress. To alleviate some of that, I prepped months in advance for my Parisian adventure with Michael. It’s important to note here that although he and I have been an item for two and a half years (yay us!) we don’t live together, aren’t planning on shacking up anytime soon, and we are not engaged or married or planning to be engaged or married. A good friend of mine recently suggested that Michael might have been taking me to Paris just to pop the question… Yeah, except the brainiac idea to go was actually mine! (Again, I’m not opposed to grotesquely opulent jewelry to celebrate our union, however a traditional marriage does not seem like it’s in our future. Mutual decision. Nothin’ to see here folks. We are happy the way things are. Keep the line moving please.)
Although we travel frequently back and forth between my apartment in NYC and his townhouse in PA, the longest uninterrupted stretch we have spent together since our initial Tinder hookup way back in July of 2020 is ten days. (Yep, longest one night stand ever! Wink.) So embarking on a one-month togetherness retreat might have seemed like a risk, right? But we weren’t worried in the slightest.
I spent the better part of the prep time doing general research, googling hot spots, skimming restaurant, café and shopping recommendations, making notes, checking my old itineraries from past Parisian trips, and compiling a to do list that was more than four pages long, separated by Left and Right Bank of course because it’s France and the two don’t mix… and then further parsing the recommendations by category. Yes, definitely a cry for help. So I won’t even mention that it was color coded ’cause that would seem totally crazy, and we don’t want any of that.
For packing purposes regarding clothing, I considered the trip in practical terms. So I decided to pack like it was two back-to-back two-week vacations. Mentally this made things so much easier for me. Packing for two weeks seemed way less overwhelming than packing for an entire month. So I laid out fifteen outfits on my bed… and then proceeded to add waaay too many scarves, extra leggings, workout clothes, backup shoes, more pajamas, and a fist full of extra undies. I knew we had a washer and dryer in our flat, but I wanted to be sure that I had enough choices. My basic plan was to wear everything twice. I also knew that fall weather in Europe was temperate but would grow increasingly colder during our stay. So I packed three different jackets with varying degrees of warmth. Easy peasy… or so I thought.
Regarding cosmetics and toiletries, I packed enough Q-tips to last a goddamn year cause that’s just how I roll. I know there is a parfumier on every Rue but buying Q-tips there can be a challenge and I am a bit of an addict. One full-sized toothpaste, a new toothbrush still in the case, a full bottle of shampoo and travel size for the rest of the family of hair products– thickening spray, mousse, and strong hold hairspray all made the cut. Two bars of soap (one for the shower and one for the sink), and my regular zippy makeup bag I tote around for domestic travel rounded out the offerings. Brushes, a comb and a small mirror were givens. Obviously. And deodorant. The goal was to bring just enough of the disposables to use up everything, thus lightening the load on the return trip.
Work paraphernalia included my computer, post-its, white out, pens, pertinent client folders, my upcoming travel and conference schedule, and my checkbook. I wasn’t looking forward to squinting into the painful glare of my tiny laptop screen since I’m spoiled at home with a large two monitor setup in my ergonomically correct living room office, but I realized it was a small price to pay for the trip of a lifetime.
For household items, I packed what I knew would be hard to procure in France. Ziplocs are nowhere to be found in Europe so I took a bunch for our kitchen needs. We assumed the knives in the flat might be dull as it’s a permanent rental and they wouldn’t load the place with easy to pilfer items. So we carefully packed a few of our own. Chip clips seemed like a good idea and Michael took some coffee capsules to ensure he could enjoy a few mugs of joe before we had to run to the market. Oh and we stashed umbrellas, too. Rain in France is a given and we didn’t want to walk around in those hideous clear hooded ponchos that scream, “Mug me! I’m a tourist!” while we hunted for decent cover.
After the one-day delay that you already read about in The Bump And Grind post https://jenslittleblackbook.com/2022/11/21/the-bump-and-grind-november-21st/ it was finally move in day! We gained entry to the building with a code, then used a second access number to unlock the interior door. Once inside the elevator, we motored up to our floor and opened the lockbox attached to the lift door on our floor to retrieve the actual apartment key. (It was all very Maxwell Smart/Agent 99 and I half expected to hear that familiar intro music as we put the key in the lock!)
Upon entering we were thrilled that the posted pictures were nearly identical to the actual space. There were plenty of closets, just enough hangers, and great light in all the rooms. The bathrooms were clean and looked new, the kitchen was modern, and the place was spotless. (And yes, the knives were awful and we were thrilled we planned ahead.)
Without much of a to do, we easily chose sides of the bed, claimed closets, and unpacked in short order, agreeing to use the third bedroom as a mud room/luggage storage space. The two desks were separated for optimal working conditions and adjusted to sit closer to outlets. We took stock of the limited supplies that came with the flat and made a list of some initial grocery items we would need– butter, extra toilet paper, milk, eggs, napkins. We scrambled right out into the spitting rain to scout the neighborhood and grab a bite; big smiles plastered to our wet faces. Holy shit! We were really here!!
We found a charming cafe a block away and relaxed on a rainy Sunday. As a few of our bags were tragically but temporarily MIA, we hit Monoprix (France’s version of a mini Walmart) to replace some missing novelties and secure those few grocery staples. After we went for a short stroll around our ‘hood and picked up pastries from a friendly little boulangerie a few blocks south. Total domestic immersion on day one– I was loving it! And as we wandered back to the flat, I wondered how long it might take us to memorize each critical door code. But by the time we edged closer to the front door of the building, I realized that we already had.
Our first night in the new place felt already like home. With the windows open, the sounds of the city lulled us into a genuinely peaceful slumber. Unfortunately a few hours later, bites from the Parisian mosquito woke us up… but I hate to ruin a beautiful beginning… so I’ll just tell you that the swelling only lasted a week (ya, I’m a bit allergic) including aggressive bites to his forehead and on my face! So we ended up closing the windows and lowering the temperature of the surprisingly robust radiant heating in the floors to cool the whole place down. Happily it worked like a charm. (There were a few latent stowaways but we diligently killed those blood sucking thieves a few arm bites later.)
Michael and I fell into such a natural and easy rhythm together. We assumed spots on opposite sides of the dining room table. It seemed normal for him to pop out early for fresh baguettes each morning and then do the breakfast prep while I handled dish duty. I kept track of the house key and he held onto our Metro tickets. Laundry was a shared chore and I was thrilled that he asked to vacuum. (Try not to be jealous, ladies! He’s such a dreamboat. I know.)
I checked google maps daily, optimizing directions for all our planned activities and meals as we attempted to hit every place on the Parisian bible I spent months creating. And after breakfast we left arm in arm to explore, wander, take pictures, shop, stroll, and indulge… knowing we had to be back by 3pm to begin our east coast hours workday.
Making this giant leap to France made me quickly realize a few important things. Skipping one day of a month-long trip is a genius way to pocket a little cash while barely missing any time from the actual trip. (Plus I saved the use of half an outfit. Bonus.) The “lifts” in Paris are so freaking small that I’m lucky I didn’t suffer from claustrophobia. (Michael barely fit without having to duck.)
All the apartment windows open in France but there are no screens. (French mosquitos have no idea that it’s fall and they are all supposed to be dead!) Energy saving mode on a dryer in Paris does not mean a quick 30-minute dry cycle so hanging your clothes outside to dry is completely acceptable. That mode actually means three hours to barely bring heat to your wrinkled items.
Seven ply, nonabsorbent and more like actual paper than what toilet tissue is in the States, the toilet paper in Europe absolutely SUCKS and most of the time it’s pink and patterned!
The scootering and cycling community is twice that of the motor vehicle contingency so the crosswalks are seriously hazardous as bike lane speeders will not stop. Signs point down instead of up when they mean ahead. (I found myself looking for a lower floor on several occasions!) The keyboard in France is different than the American one and I typed my information incorrectly a few times not realizing that the letters have different locations.
The subway stations are spotless and the vending machines house beverages that are upside down! And even with all of these minor differences or oddities, I was happy to acclimate and over the moon to finally be a Parisian local.
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