In Louvre in Paris

My gut wants me to say that my first day in Paris was my favorite, but competing memories of my other days in Paris remind me that each one of them was immaculate.

Thanks to the advice I’d previously received from the Waldorf Astoria Trianon Palace concierge and the attractive Frenchman at Gare de la Est on my first day in Paris, I had a smooth experience getting on the train from Versailles to Paris. While I was sad to leave my little corner of the palace and chateau behind, I was electrically excited to return to Paris.

It did not disappoint. There are some moments in life that I believe become truly cinematic in memory, and arriving in Paris was one of them. Once in Paris, I took an Uber to my hotel, and as we drove, I began to see flickers of golden light illuminating between buildings, and I knew we were nearing the Eiffel Tower – my first look at it.

Not long after, she emerged from the cityscape.

I’d waited most of my life to see that tower, and it was truly something special to see it in-person, even just for a few moments through the window of my Uber.

A friend sent me a message that I felt perfectly summarized the feeling of seeing the Eiffel Tower in person, especially as a person who has wanted to travel to France for so long – he said, “When you see it in real life, it feels unbelievable. You’ll feel like somebody has just given you the world.”

That’s exactly how it felt. Like someone handed me the world.

I gleefully watched Paris pass by as we drove down streets and across bridges until we finally arrived at my hotel. I stayed at Hotel Lumen Paris – Louvre, which is in the 1st arrondissement, or neighborhood of Paris. I chose it because it seemed like the most centralized location to the spots I wanted to visit while in Paris, and I have to say, it was an excellent choice. The people who worked there were super nice, it was within perfect walking distance to everything, and the best croissants in Paris were just down the block. Can’t get better than that.

This photo of the exterior of my hotel reminds me of Harry Potter for some reason – Lumos!

While nothing can compare to staying in an actual palace, the rooms were quite nice, though small, and not just in comparison to the Trianon Palace. However, I’d been warned that European hotel rooms are much smaller than most people are used to in the US, so I was not surprised at all by the space. Since I was traveling solo, the room was actually perfect for me.

And it had a lovely little balcony. I was getting used to these French balconies.

I was feeling extremely proud of myself for navigating yet another day in France alone – and after taking in my hotel room and settling in, I began to feel exhausted. My energy was spent after a long day being a tourist in Versailles and navigating my way back to Paris by myself. It was getting late, and I was starving, but my decision-making abilities were maxed out. I wanted to hit up one of the fabulous restaurants on my to-dine list, but the thought of taking another Uber was not appealing at all, and I was reaching my quota of steps for the day. Suddenly, I felt mildly claustrophobic in the evening – it was dark and I was suddenly aware that I was completely unfamiliar with my surroundings. I wanted to call it a day and crawl into my comfy bed for the evening, and try my hand at exploration the next morning, but I gently reminded myself that I’d already navigating quite a few problematic situations, and I could handle a simple dinner that evening.

I remembered that there was a cute restaurant a block away from my hotel, which I’d seen along my drive to the hotel. It seemed as good of a spot as any, so I mustered up my last bits of energy and headed back out of the hotel.

As I approached the restaurant, La Rotonde St Honoré, my steps faltered as I realized I wasn’t 100% confident in my abilities to order in French. I reflected on all the phrases and words the amazing waiters had taught me at Gordon Ramsey au Trianon, and gave myself a few mental affirmations that I could handle it. And so I went in, a little burst of confidence that was immediately burst when the waiter asked me something I didn’t understand.

“Parlez-vous anglais?” I asked. Do you speak English?

“Yes,” he said easily. “Table for one?”

He served me in English, which was a great break for my tired brain. I decided to treat myself to a glass of wine after a long day, and while looking at the menu, there were four different glass sizes on the menu. I had no idea how big any of them would be, so I felt that the second smallest would be a safe bet.

I was wrong.

The waiter nodded when I ordered the glass of wine and my dinner, but when he delivered my wine to me, he brought out a glass of wine the size of my head.

In an extremely flamboyant, yet elegant gesture, he swirled the glass around in the air with gusto before setting it on the table, saying quite loudly, “A big glass of wine!” in his French accent.

I was a bit alarmed, because the glass was more than I bargained for. After taking a sip, I decided to roll with it. It was delightful.

I sipped wine on an empty stomach for awhile, observing the Parisians around me as they happily chatted in booths and smoked on the patio. The bartenders and chefs joked around with one another in the kitchen. I felt like I was in a cheerful, European Edward Hopper painting.

My hunger had not decreased with the wine, so when they brought out my pasta, I felt my eyes grow cartoonishly large, because this pasta looked 1,000% better than what I expected.

It tasted 2,000% better than what I expected, too. Omfg.

I devoured half of it, and stowed the other half in my hotel mini-fridge, which I ate as an evening snack over the next few days.

I was glad that I battled my fatigue and ventured out, even if it was only a few blocks away from my hotel. I enjoyed my pasta and wine, observing life moving in Paris around me, and felt lucky.

The concierge at my hotel told me that my luggage had not been delivered, but it was typical of the airport to make those deliveries in the evenings, as that was when they had the most staff available. I crossed my fingers he was right, because the next morning I was scheduled for a photoshoot. Since I was traveling alone, I wanted to make sure I had amazing pictures of myself in Paris, a place I’d dreamt about for so long. However, my clothes were all in my lost suitcase, which according to my AirTag, was sitting at the airport in Paris. I’d hoped they’d deliver it over the night.

The next morning, I checked my AirTag, and my suitcase was still at the airport. I refreshed it every fifteen minutes, contacted Delta and Air France through every means possible, and contemplated taking an Uber to the airport just to pick up my suitcase. It was $50 to Uber there, and I wouldn’t have enough time to make it there and back and get ready for my photoshoot, so it felt like a wasted effort.

However, sometimes things work out for a reason.

As I was fretting over my luggage, I received a message from my photographer, saying it was set to rain all day – she wondered if we could reschedule for Monday?

I felt relieved – I had planned to spend the entirety of Monday at the Louvre, so rescheduling for a few days later would ensure I would have my luggage. Plus, a rainy Friday felt like the perfect time to go to the Louvre.

Luckily I had woken up early to problem-solve my luggage situation, so the Louvre was not yet open. I was set on arriving before they opened, so I could be one of the first people to enter that day, in hopes that my experience viewing the Mona Lisa would not be terrible.

I’d heard that the Mona Lisa was one of the most disappointing pieces of art to view – for one thing, she is much smaller than what people imagine, at two feet six inches by one foot nine inches. Most people imagine her to be a pretty large portrait, and are disappointed by how small she is in-person after so much built-up hype around her. Secondly, she’s one of the most famous works of art at the Louvre, which means there are often large crowds waiting to view her. So much so, that they have a roped off queue to keep folks in line. Once you get there, you’re essentially in a large group of people holding phones above their head, putting the zoom on their phone’s camera to good use. Which is an annoying and artificial experience, plus, absolutely no one likes to be surrounded by impatient tourists, so being stuck in a large group of them is more than likely to immediately make you irritable, too.

I wanted to avoid all of that, so I had booked tickets to enter the Louvre right as the opened on Monday, and had mapped out exactly which entrance was the closest to the Mona Lisa. Now that my plans had changed, I quickly sprang into action to book tickets for Friday. Luckily, there was a ticket available for their opening hour, so I snagged it, threw on my coat, and typed the Louvre into the GPS on my phone.

I love the rain, and a walk through rainy Paris on my way to the Louvre sounded lovely. And dear God, it was. Paris is beautiful in the rain.

I had plenty of time to get to the Louvre, and my hotel was very close, so I took my time observing Paris.

I walked past this restaurant, which had a lovely display of flowers underneath its canopy.

When I got to the Louvre grounds, I saw a beautiful structure, which I later learned was built in 1808: the Arc de Triomphe du Carrousel.

Paris was quiet. It felt like I was sharing the city with only a handful of people as I made my way to the Louvre entrance.

The best entrance is the Place du Carrousel entrance, by the inverted pyramid.

It’s cool to see the inverted pyramid, and it also brings you the closest to the coolest pieces in the Louvre.

When I arrived, I was excited to see that I was fifth in line. Score!

As soon as the doors opened and we made it through security, I absolutely bee-lined it to the Denon wing, while the other visitors went to the coatroom to lock away their items, or to one of the various information stations with maps. There would be plenty of time for that later – first on the docket was the Mona Lisa.

I excitedly followed the signage, which seemed pretty straightforward, with simple arrows and images of the pieces.

The Louvre was quiet, and I was in a heart-pumping state of excitement, hoping to get to the Mona Lisa before it was too crowded.

Eventually I came to a “T” intersection, and in the center were two Louvre employees, and two signs pointing to the Mona Lisa – in opposite directions. I figured both would bring me to the right location, but hesitated, unsure of which way was best to go.

The two employees nodded at me with smiles. “Bonjour, madame,” they said.

I greeted them in French in response, and then made the decision to take the route on the left. It took me down a long hallway, filled with amazing sculptures that I was dying to slow down and look at, but I reminded myself there would be time for that for later. I began to feel like I went the wrong way, and decided to turn around and ask the employees for directions.

When I went back, I explained that I wasn’t sure if I was going in the right direction to see the Mona Lisa, and one of the employees reassured me that you could go in either direction. After I thanked him for his help, he asked me where I was from, and began to strike up a conversation with me. He was very nice, so I answered his questions and chatted with him, the whole time mentally tapping my foot, anxious to make it to the gallery to see the Mona Lisa. Eventually, I utilized a classic Minnesota goodbye, saying, “Welp, I better get going to the Mona Lisa.”

“Of course, of course,” he said. “If you would like, you may take the elevator behind you, and it will take you directly up to the Mona Lisa. When you get off the elevator, just take a right and you will go straight into the gallery.”

Suddenly I felt like I hadn’t wasted too much time at all, if the elevator would take me straight to where I needed to go.

“Oh wow, thank you so much for your help!” I said, beginning to step away.

“Of course,” he responded. “And if you have any questions, any questions at all, please come back and ask. And later, if you want to get a cup of coffee…?”

I suddenly understood that he was not just being a polite Louvre employee by striking up a conversation with me, and was in fact hitting on me. After spending some time in France, I’ll say that French men are definitely more comfortable putting themselves out there than American men in general, even while working – it’s definitely less common in the U.S. for folks to hit on customers while they’re working, but felt more common in France.

I wasn’t interested in getting coffee, so I simply told him that I had plans and thanked him again for his help.

His suggestion to take the elevator was top tier, because it brought me right to the gallery, and when I entered, there was not another soul in sight. I approached the wall that the Mona Lisa is hung on, flanked by Louvre employees who had settled into chairs on both sides of the wall.

I was unsure if I could go directly to the lane in front of the painting, or if I needed to walk through the roped off area used to queue folks in.

I asked the employees if I could walk right up to the front of the roped off area, and they nodded. “Go right ahead, you are the first person to see her today.”

That felt like an accomplishment to my Type-A mind somehow, and I was giddy with excitement. It was a huge honor to be able to observe the painting alone in the quiet gallery.

It really is magnificent. I know many people say she’s disappointing to see in person, but I felt exactly the opposite. I’d heard so frequently that the painting is small, that I’d actually expected her to be smaller, so I was pleasantly surprised that the painting was bigger than my expectations. If you plan to visit, keep your expectations at two feet six inches by one foot nine inches.

I was able to get much closer than I expected, as well. I was able to see all of the details – the winding paths and rivers; the aging of the paints that coated the canvas like squared-off snowflakes; and of course her mysterious, knowing smile. I was alone for about ten minutes, and it was a tranquil experience. I had time to take in every detail and really appreciate the painting, not just snap a photo of it for Instagram and walk away.

I did, however, eventually get a photo. I couldn’t resist. After I’d been alone for awhile, three other visitors arrived, and after a few moments, one of them asked if I would take a photo of her. I agreed, and asked if she would take one for me.

Electric after seeing the Mona Lisa without the crowds, I decided to try to find the other pieces of art I was most excited to see, and which I also knew would draw a crowd. I hadn’t had breakfast and was hustling around the museum in my wool coat, but croissants and coat racks be damned, there was art to see!

The next stop was the Winged Victory of Samothrace, which was striking beyond words.

There was something immediately empowering about approaching this piece as a women. There was strength and softness in her all at once, something that is not often afforded to women. But here it exists in the form of a woman completely championing it.

The details that create movement were unbelievable. I was very struck by this piece, which I knew I was lucky to once again be able to see in a quiet gallery, alone. I took some time to simply observe and enjoy the piece, feeling very empowered in my femininity by her! I would walk past this piece many times that day, and every time there was a huge crowd of visitors on the stairs, so I once again felt fortunate to have a quiet, tranquil experience with the art.

Following the Winged Victory was the Venus de Milo. When I arrived, there were only two people in the gallery, who were on their way out. Again, I was able to see the art without a crowd. And again, later when I’d walk past the sculpture, I’d see it completely crowded by visitors.

At this point, I was starving, so I decided to head down to one of the cafés for a quick breakfast and cup of coffee. However, they were all closed for another thirty minutes, so I took a seat outside. The Louvre employee who’d hit on me happened to walk by and asked me if I was doing okay and if I needed anything, which was very nice of him.

As I waited for the café to open, a line began to form, and since I was sitting at a table outside of the café, I wasn’t quite in the queue. I ultimately decided that it wouldn’t be worth it to wait in that long of a line, and that I would tour the museum until lunchtime, when I hoped to hit Le Café Marly, which had beautiful views of the Louvre and delicious-looking food.

I’ll admit out of the gate that my structure of visiting the Louvre didn’t really make sense. I had pieces on my wishlist that I wanted to see, and I stopped and looked at many pieces along the way – which was fine, except I ended up retracing my steps several times.

I didn’t mind though – I was elated to be at the Louvre. My brain was completely overwhelmed by how many beautiful, interesting pieces were around me, and it wanted to see everything, all at once. I was so blown away that I began thinking about how I could get a job at the Louvre so I could always bask in the beauty and history of the artwork.

I kicked things off by heading to the Court Marlys, which I’d walked through on my way to the cafés, and knew I had to return to.

There was an overwhelming amount of beautiful works here, but one of my favorites was Hercules Slaying the Hydra of Lerna.

There was incredible emotion and movement in this sculpture.

I also loved L’Aurore, the goddess of dawn, who is scattering flowers as she descends from her chariot.

I then made my way into an exhibit about Greek art, where they explained that in ancient Greece, important announcements would be carved into stone that were placed in key locations, and they didn’t use spaces to distinguish words, which I thought was extremely interesting. How would people make sense of which word was which?

But then I found my name in one of them, so perhaps it wasn’t that hard to follow along with.

They even seemed to have bolded it. How nice!

I moved on to other exhibits, and as I walked, I couldn’t help but notice how beautifully the building frames the pyramids outside.

BEAUTIFUL. Yes, all caps.

Next, more sculptures that I enjoyed, including the Nymph with a Scorpion.

This piece struck me because it reminded me of my grandmother – a weird connection for sure, but I once had a dream in which there was a scorpion in the room, and everyone was afraid of it except for myself and my grandmother, who ended up gently picking up the scorpion and releasing it to the wild. I have no idea what that dream means, but I do know that this statue once again reminded me of feminine strength.

Next was The Raft of the Medusa, which in stark contrast to the Mona Lisa, I had no idea it was that massive.

Look at it in comparison to the people! I can’t imagine embarking on a project that huge – I do not have the skillset for painting on that scale, and it is remarkable to me that anybody does. The dark emotion in this piece was captivating, and I was astonished by its scale, both physically and emotionally.

While here, I accidentally walked past the Mona Lisa, but this time, she had company.

This crowd was fairly quiet compared to other photos I’ve seen online – it’s important to plan carefully when visiting so you don’t get trapped in a crowd like this!

I ran into my friend, the Louvre employee again – it was about the fourth time we’d run into each other at this point.

“We must get coffee together! This is fate! This is destiny!” he proclaimed in his French accent. This is the Louvre, I thought.

I politely declined him and he very respectfully accepted my declination, which I appreciated. I moseyed on through the galleries, and stopped at another piece in one of the halls, by Christian Boltanski.

Boltanski accumulated biscuit tins, and filled them with objects and souvenirs from two decades of his life – however, you can’t see into any of the tins, just as we can’t see into the hearts and minds of those around us. A reminder of the lives and memories that we keep close to ourselves and may not reveal. Everyone has a story.

From here, I visited Galerie d’Apollon, which is home to some of the Crown Jewels in the Louvre’s collection.

The gallery was stunningly decorated, but it was overwhelmingly decorated in the portraits of old white men, and that made me feel pretty “meh” after a morning of taking in so many empowering, feminine works. I didn’t stay long.

As I walked to my next exhibit, I was again stopped by the view from one of the Louvre windows.

My goal was to reach the Grand Sphinx next.

I am fascinated with Egyptian art and architecture, so I was super excited to see this piece. It was another area that was extremely crowded, but well worth checking out.

I wanted to check out the apartments of Napoleon III. The Louvre was once a palace, and visitors of the Louvre can see how the apartments were decorated during one of the time periods it was occupied as a residence. The apartments you can walk through were once home to the Minister of State.

I knew it was going to be good as soon as I walked into the hall leading to the apartments.

Give me all the red silk, gold, and chandeliers.

The drawing room was absolutely insane – it was home to the largest chandelier I had ever seen. I think it may surpass some of the chandeliers at the Chateau de Versailles. If ten men were standing underneath that chandelier and it fell to the ground, it would crush them all easily. That red velvet chair beneath it was a death trap!

Everything was gilded or layered in red velvet or silk, and I wanted to touch or sit on everything. Can you imagine reading a book in one of those chairs? Because I can imagine it!

As you walk into the apartment’s salon, you see a portrait of Empress Eugénie.

It was another piece that was incredibly striking. Not only is everything opulent, from her dress, to her crown, to the gardens outside, but the artist has painted everything surrounding Empress Eugénie a shade lighter, so that she appears to glow. Your eye was very naturally drawn to her, despite the other beautiful pieces in the room!

Outside of the apartments were displays of other various French items, including busts personifying each of the seasons. My favorite was summer, which had a beautiful crown of wheat and flowers, and wore a colorful floral dress.

I also happened upon the Virgin of Jeanne d’Evreux, which was created sometime in the 1320s or 1330s. That’s insane!

It was immaculate. Pun fully intended.

I then swung through the Egyptian wing, which had an array of sarcophaguses.

These never fail to amaze me. Look at the details – the amount of work that must have been put into creating this sarcophagus must have been immense.

My last stop of the day was another powerful piece, Psyche Revived by Cupid’s Kiss.

You can really feel the emotion in this piece, and the sense of movement is wonderful. Psyche was sent to retrieve a flask from the Underworld, and after opening it, she breathed in fumes that sent her into a deathlike slumber. Cupid rushes to her, lifts her into an embrace, and she throws her arms to cradle his face. His kiss apparently saves her. Sleeping Beauty but she actually loved him before he kissed her when she was sleeping.

I had been at the Louvre for 6 hours, and I’d still only seen a fragment of the art.

I could spend a week there and be happy.

While I’d had lunch at one point (Cafe Marlys was sadly not open), I wanted to hit one of Paris’s most famous teahouses, Angelina. It is very casually where Coco Chanel used to drink tea with her friends, and it is famous for its incredible hot chocolate. It was also on the way to Smith & Son, a bookstore I wanted to go to. The bookstore was average, and I wouldn’t recommend making a trip for it.

Angelina, however, was packed.

That line of people extends nearly the whole block. I decided against waiting for a cup of hot chocolate, deciding that I had several more days to get my hands on a cup of it.

As I walked to Angelina, I passed an artist sitting alone an empty section of the corridor, her artwork taped up to the walls, and a pan of watercolors in her hand. She continued working as people passed her by, and as I flowed along in the sea of people, one piece in particular caught my eye. It made me pause for a moment, but I continued on, telling myself that if I passed her again, I would stop and buy the painting.

I did pass her again, and purchased it.

It is now very happy in my home. I was drawn to how colorful it is. I would end up seeing the artist again during my trip, but until then, go give Emvienne Maria Anvers a follow on Instagram.

After a successful painting purchase, I continued on to one of the things I was most excited to see in Paris.

I was giddy the whole way there, but not too giddy to enjoy the small, beautiful things in France.

Aaaaand the massive beautiful things, too. I passed the Notre Dame on my way to my destination.

Since I was approximately seventeen years old, I’ve wanted to go to Shakespeare & Company, the infamous bookstore in Paris, known for its status as a haven for writers. At eighteen, I had dreams of flying to Paris and joining the Shakespeare & Company’s Tumbleweed Program, which offers writers a place to stay (within the store) in exchange for them helping shelve books, and they must also read one book each day, and continue to write. That sounds like a literal dream, does it not?

The only catch is that there is no guarantee that there will be a space open for you, and you can’t sign up to be a Tumbleweed in advance. You have to just show up, and hope!

I never ended up going, but this was my chance to check the place out.

The evening before, I had read a post about Paris Syndrome, which is a phenomenon that occurs when a person has built Paris up so much in their mind, that they are immensely disappointed when they visit, because it could never live up to their expectations. I had been building Paris up in my mind for quite some time, and I was worried I would experience Paris Syndrome at some point. Spoiler, I did not. But this was the closest I came.

Shakespeare & Company has an ugly yellow sign. I do not like the Shakespeare & Company sign. But I have come to associate it with the quirky, lovable, and wonderful history of the place. So when I arrived at the storefront, and saw this very nice, professional canopy, I was disappointed. To a significant degree.

While this canopy arguably looks better, I was disappointed that they had gotten rid of the sign that held so much history for the store, even if it was ugly.

But then I realized that it was a canopy, put out because of the rain.

The sign was still there, underneath. Even if it was a little tattered.

When I returned a few days later, I got a photo with the sign in the background, in all of its glory.

And not only was that sign still there, but an original sign for City Lights Books, the previous store, was also still there.

They don’t allow you to take photos inside, but I can tell you that it was everything I dreamed of and more. I ended up returning three times over the course of my trip, and that was probably why my luggage was overweight when I left Paris. I purchased several copies of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s works, sets of poems, a book about Greek Mythology, presents for friends and family, canvas tote bags, and a sweatshirt that I’m in love with. Each of the books was stamped on the inside, to mark that it had been purchased from Shakespeare & Company, and that made me extremely happy.

From there, I walked across the road, where I’d seen glowing lights and heard music joyfully ringing in the air.

A Christmas Market! I walked around the market, listening to music and perusing the shops. I ended up purchasing a necklace, before my hunger got the best of me, and I decided to head to a restaurant I’d had on my to-eat list.

I passed the Notre Dame again on my way, this time sunken into darkness.

The restaurant I’d wanted to go to was called Au Vieux Paris. I’d seen photos of it online, and it looked beautiful.

Lots of lights and greenery.

However, when I arrived, the vibe felt very off. I looked at the menu, and nothing appealed to me. There was only one other individual in the restaurant, and I was not sure if he was a customer or not. It felt weird that no one was around, and my phone was dying and there were no places to charge it. I decided to just head out without ordering, and call an Uber before my phone died. I headed back to my hotel, and as soon as I arrived, the exhaustion hit. Not only had I walked around the Louvre for six hours, I’d walked all around Paris to various bookstores and cafés. I felt a little lame doing it, but I decided to order Uber Eats. My feet were killing me, and I wanted to make sure I got some rest so I could adventure even more the next day.

This ended up being an amazing decision, because I ordered one of the most incredible pizzas I’d ever had from a place called Pizzeria Iovine’s, along with an order of some kind of pizza dough draped in hazelnut frosting.