Today marked the start of a new chapter in our European adventure: the journey from Amsterdam to Paris aboard the Eurostar. Our train was scheduled to depart at 1:10 pm from Amsterdam Centraal Station, the city’s grand transport hub that has been welcoming travelers since 1889. Designed by architect Pierre Cuypers (who also created the Rijksmuseum), the station itself feels like a gateway to history, with its neo-Renaissance façade overlooking the IJ River.
After checking out of our hotel, we stored our luggage and set off for one last wander through the city. The weather was surprisingly pleasant for the first day of winter—blue skies stretched overhead, and a light breeze carried the scent of damp cobblestones still glistening from overnight rain.
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| Near rail station |
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| Repurposed old buildings |
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| Repurposed old buildings |
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| Repurposed old buildings |
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| Understated Christmas |
We explored a quieter section of the Centrum district, where narrow lanes twist between canals and centuries-old buildings. Many of these houses date back to the 16th–18th centuries, their gabled façades now repurposed as modern shops. It’s one of the charms of Europe: the seamless blend of old and new, where history is preserved but adapted for contemporary life.
On the recommendation of a friendly shopkeeper, we stopped for breakfast at a local café known for its “cookies.” While Dutch cookies were the specialty, the menu offered far more—delicate pastries, rich coffee, and inventive flavours that felt like a modern twist on tradition.
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| Delicious Dutch Cookies |
As we strolled, we noticed how understated Christmas feels here compared to Australia. Decorations were tasteful rather than extravagant—garlands draped across shopfronts, subtle lights twinkling in windows, and wreaths hung with quiet elegance. The streets were busy but not chaotic, and locals were stylishly dressed without being overdone. The only blemish was the scattering of cigarette stubs on the ground, though city cleaners were already at work.
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| Hotel Rho Foyer |
We returned to the hotel, collected our luggage, and began the 15–20 minute walk to Centraal Station. Along the way, a sudden wail of sirens pierced the air—loud, insistent, and unsettling. For a moment, it felt like an emergency alert or even an air raid siren. Moments later, our phones buzzed with a text message explaining the situation: it was the NL-Alert system, a nationwide emergency test conducted twice a year to ensure readiness in case of disaster. A reminder of how seriously the Dutch take preparedness.
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| Dutch alert system |
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| Dutch alert system |
We arrived at the station about an hour before departure. Centraal is vast, serving not only international trains but also local and regional routes, so the Eurostar platform was crowded. Traveling in a sort of “business class” again, we found ourselves in carriage 13. As always, luggage storage was a small battle—passengers rushing to secure space before the racks filled up.
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| Platform 15a Eurostar |
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| On the Eurostar carriage 13 |
We narrowly beat a group of women carrying enormous bags, and ended up helping them stow their belongings. The drama didn’t end there: as tickets were checked, it became clear they were booked on a much later train, not ours. The conductor, visibly frustrated, called over an Arabic-speaking colleague to explain that they would need to pay extra for boarding early. At Rotterdam, they were instructed to disembark, though they remained on board. A small slice of human theatre unfolding in the aisles of carriage 13. Later we passed them sitting with the luggage, a bit cruel. Later they passed through our carriage with the conductor but their bags remained in our carriage.
With the train gliding south, we settled into our seats, watching the Dutch landscape roll past—flat fields, wind turbines , and clusters of brick houses—before crossing into Belgium and eventually France. In just over three hours, we would arrive at Paris Gare du Nord, ready to trade canals and cookies for boulevards and croissants.
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| Belgian countryside |
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| The Dutch countryside |
Our Eurostar journey south from Amsterdam brought us first to Antwerp Central Station, often called the Spoorwegkathedraal or “Railway Cathedral.” Opened in 1905, this station is widely regarded as one of the most beautiful in the world, blending neo-Renaissance, Yet, despite its architectural splendour, travellers are often reminded to keep a close eye on their luggage—Antwerp, like many busy European hubs, has its share of opportunistic pickpockets. Sadly from the train platform we didn’t see the “Railway Cathedral.”
Leaving Antwerp, the train continued south through Belgium’s flat countryside, dotted with farms and small towns, before arriving at Brussels-Midi (Brussel-Zuid / Gare du Midi). This is the capital’s largest station and the main international gateway, serving Eurostar, Thalys, TGV, and ICE trains SNCB and other carriers. Unlike Antwerp’s grandeur, Brussels-Midi is more utilitarian—its surroundings are distinctly urban and industrial, with graffiti-covered walls and concrete overpasses framing the tracks. It sits in the Saint-Gilles district, about a 20‑minute walk from the historic Grand Place, but the immediate area around the station is known more for transit than charm.
At Brussels-Midi, our train paused to couple with additional carriages, preparing for the longer run into France. We researched that this is a common practice: Brussels is a major junction where trains are reorganised before heading south toward Paris. Watching the process from the train, you understood the station’s role as a crossroads of Europe—trains fanning out to Germany, the Netherlands, Luxembourg, Paris and beyond.
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| Eurostar |
While the views from the train window at these stops may not be picturesque—industrial yards, graffiti, and concrete dominate—the stations themselves tell a layered story. Antwerp Central is a monument to Belgium’s Belle Époque ambition, while Brussels-Midi reflects the modern, practical face of European rail travel. Together, they mark the transition from the Netherlands into the heart of continental Europe, each with its own character before the journey continues toward the boulevards of Paris.
The train rolled into Gare du Nord about half an hour behind schedule. Disembarking was a scene of organized chaos—hundreds of passengers eager to wrestle their luggage off the train and surge toward the station exits. The platform quickly filled with streams of people, and we instinctively tightened our grip on our bags, mindful that this station has a reputation for pickpockets and opportunistic scammers.
Finding the taxi rank was straightforward, but patience was required. The crowd from our train had beaten us there, and we joined a queue of what must have been a hundred people. Fortunately, taxis arrived in steady succession, and after about 30 minutes we were on our way. Our driver, efficient and unfazed, loaded our bags and whisked us across Paris in less time than Google Maps predicted. The fare was a pleasant surprise—€17 compared to the €31 Uber had quoted.
Our destination was Hotel De La Bretonnerie, tucked away at 22 Rue Sainte-Croix de la Bretonnerie in the heart of the Marais. This boutique hotel is a gem of Parisian history, dating back to the 17th century. By the time of the French Revolution in 1789, the building was already considered old, and today its age is worn proudly in every detail.
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| Around our hotel |
Our suite was spread across two levels: a foyer with an extra bed on the lower floor, and a staircase leading up to the main bedroom. Exposed wooden beams crossed the ceiling—low enough to remind you of the building’s centuries, but not so low as to be inconvenient. These beams, weathered and darkened with time, gave the room a rustic charm that contrasted beautifully with the comforts of modern hospitality. Staying here felt less like checking into a hotel and more like stepping into a living piece of Parisian history.
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| Hall in hotel |
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| Our door 101 |
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| Staircase |
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| Bedroom of suite (top floor) |
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| Bedroom of suite (top floor) Looking down |
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| Bedroom of suite (top floor) Looking across |
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| On suite stairs looking up |
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| Looking up. |
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| Suite interior stairs |
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| Bedroom |
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| 17th century beams |
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| Interior stairs in suite |
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| Looking up in suite |
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| Bedroom |
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| Bathroom |
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| Low wooden beams |
The hotel’s location in the Marais district is one of its greatest assets. Once the aristocratic quarter of Paris, the Marais today is a vibrant blend of old-world architecture and modern Parisian life. Narrow cobblestone streets wind past elegant 17th- and 18th-century mansions, now repurposed into museums, boutiques, and galleries. The area is alive with cafés, cocktail lounges, and restaurants, and it’s only a short stroll to landmarks like the Notre-Dame Cathedral and the Centre Pompidou.
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| Camille’s |
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| Marais district |
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| Marais district |
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| Marais district |
The Marais is also known for its diverse cultural heritage: historically the Jewish quarter, it remains home to excellent bakeries and delis, while also being a hub for Paris’s LGBTQ+ community. The mix of tradition and modernity makes wandering its streets endlessly rewarding.
Taking the hotel’s advice, we dined at Camille’s, a charming restaurant offering authentic French cuisine. While mains typically range from €35–40, the set menu—or formule—is a more affordable option. For €33 per person, we enjoyed a starter and main, or main and dessert, chosen from a limited but thoughtful selection. The food was excellent, and the atmosphere warm and inviting. Camille’s is a place I’d happily recommend to anyone seeking a genuine Parisian dining experience without breaking the bank.
After dinner, we wandered through the Marais, admiring the centuries-old buildings refitted for modern use. Much like Amsterdam, the district balances preservation with practicality, allowing history to coexist with contemporary life. The streets, lit softly at night, carried a quiet charm that made even a simple walk feel like an immersion in Paris’s layered past.
