Day 33 (Thursday 4th December) A Day in Paris: Markets, Towers, and late Wanders

 Our morning began at Marché des Enfants Rouges, Paris’s oldest covered market, founded back in 1615. Its name comes from a nearby orphanage where children once wore red uniforms—hence les enfants rouges. Tucked just off Rue de Bretagne, the entrance is easy to miss, but step through the gate and you’re suddenly in a bustling maze of food stalls, produce stands, and kitchens serving dishes from every corner of the globe.

Marché des Enfants Rouges

Marché des Enfants Rouges

Jewish quarter 

We didn’t sample the market fare this time, having already indulged in breakfast and coffee at a Vietnamese flower shop café—a quirky little find that served excellent cake alongside blooms.

From there, we wandered through the neighborhood’s boutique shops. Paris excels at small, independent stores; chain retailers are rare here, and it’s a reminder that Australians could learn a thing or two about preserving character in shopping streets.

After lunch, we boarded a Batobus boat bound for the Eiffel Tower. 

Seine River

Near the river 

An enjoyable and relaxing ride. A quick pizza and some shopping later, we joined our guided tour. Dining near the tower comes with a warning: two cappuccinos set us back €15, and the pizza was €23. Converted, that’s nearly $30 AUD for coffee—almost Monaco prices! 

We joked that after paying Paris prices we no longer had kidneys and only part of our livers left. The Aussie dollar doesn’t help either—sitting at around 56 Euro cents to one of ours. Some might say, “Suck it up, you’re travelling overseas,” but the exchange rate has bigger implications. Australia imports most of its manufactured goods, so a weak dollar doesn’t exactly work in our favour as consumers. The real winners are the primary industries exporting abroad, while the rest of us feel the pinch every time we order a coffee or purchase something made from overseas. Hmmm, perhaps finding an economical balance to benefit more Aussies? (And I know it’s not as simple as that when comes macro economics, and it would be nice to ignore such economic triggers such as interest rate differentials, commodity export prices, China’s economic slowdown, global trade tensions with tariffs, domestic housing & credit stress etc, etc…., (Bugger still remember 1st year economics.)

Our guide, a Ukrainian woman who had relocated to Paris during the invasion of her country, shared fascinating insights into the tower’s history and mechanics. Security was tight, with two checks before reaching the lift. Adventurous visitors can climb the stairs, but we opted for the elevator to the second floor, then continued 200 meters higher to the summit. In total the tower is about 300 metres high, not bad for 1889 temporary building for the world expo. 

The views were breathtaking—Paris stretched endlessly below, with nothing taller to obstruct the panorama. We toasted the moment with champagne (€24 per glass, a splurge for the memory rather than the taste). As night fell, we were lucky enough to witness the Eiffel Tower’s light show, sparkling every hour after sundown. Seeing it both from above and later from the ground was unforgettable.

Mr Eiffel's apartment at summit 

Dinner was at Le Bourbon, a restaurant directly across from the French National Assembly. The clientele matched the location—polished, political, and Parisian. We took advantage of the prix fixe formule, bringing the bill to €80. We figured it be awhile before we visit Paris, perhaps 2027 😉?

Le Bourbon

Our walk home led us past festive Christmas markets and the Louvre, before finally hailing a taxi. 

Near the Loure

Loure

Loure

Loure

The only tragedy of the night? Needing to pack our bags for tomorrow’s journey home. Of course after packing we enjoyed some cheese and wine French style.

Day 32 (Wednesday 3rd December) A Day with Napoleon, Rodin, and the Red Door

 We started our day with a 48‑hour Batobus pass — a hop‑on, hop‑off riverboat that glides along the Seine. It’s one of the easiest ways to explore Paris, saving countless steps while keeping most of the city’s highlights within reach of the water. As we cruised past landmarks like the Eiffel Tower, the ride itself felt like a sightseeing tour.

The delightful Anton from Le Frenchies

 A bonus highlight: meeting Anton, a YouTube creator from Le Frenchies, who added a dash of local flair to the journey.

Our stop brought us to the Musée de l’Armée, the national army museum housed at Les Invalides. The collection was vast and impressive, spanning centuries of French military history. We wandered through galleries filled with Napoleonic uniforms, weapons, and artifacts.

Musée de l’Armée

Unlucky Frenchman at Waterloo 

Napoleon’s hat

 Sadly time was against us, but there were other wings dedicated to World War I and II. Another section showcased armour and weaponry across time — enough to fill days of exploration. 

Napoleon’s Tomb

Napoleon’s Tomb

Napoleon’s Tomb

The Dome - Napoleon’s Tomb

Of course, the centrepiece was the Tomb of Napoleon Bonaparte, resting beneath the grand dome of the church. The scale and solemnity of the site left a lasting impression, as did the resting places of other notable figures from French history.

From there, we shifted gears to the Musée Rodin, celebrating the 19th‑century sculptor. The museum itself is housed in a stately 17th‑18th century mansion, complete with sweeping staircases and manicured gardens. The setting was as memorable as the art, blending history, architecture, and creativity in one space.

Later, we tried to visit a small but excellent perfume shop made extremely popular in social media, but the long queue made it impossible to fit into our schedule. 

Instead, we hopped back on the Batobus and returned closer to our accommodation. Hunger led us to dinner, and curiosity carried us further — straight to The Red Door, a cocktail lounge tucked behind, quite literally, a red door. Entry required waiting outside until space freed up, a reminder of how coveted the spot is. Rated among Paris’s best cocktail bars, it delivered beautifully crafted drinks. While the flavours impressed, the buzz was mild — perhaps thanks to the steady stream of water we’d been drinking they served. Prices were a touch higher than our local bar back home, but not unreasonable for Paris.

The Red Door

The Red Door

The Red Door

By the time we returned, our step counters proudly displayed more than 10,000 steps — proof of a day well spent, balancing history, art, and a taste of Parisian nightlife.

Day 31 (Tuesday 2nd December) exploring Paris - religion to Art

 Our first full day in Paris began in the Marais, a neighborhood that feels like a living museum yet pulses with modern life. The streets are narrow and cobblestoned, lined with 16th–19th century buildings whose weathered facades now house chic cafés, boutique shops, and bustling restaurants. It’s a curious paradox: history preserved in stone, but animated by electric push bikes whizzing past, delivery vans squeezing through impossibly tight lanes, and locals weaving effortlessly through the chaos.

We started the morning in the most Parisian way possible—with flaky pastries and strong coffee. There’s something about biting into a croissant in Paris that feels like a rite of passage: the crisp layers shatter delicately, leaving buttery traces on your fingers, while the coffee cuts through with just the right bitterness.

From there, we walked to Notre Dame. Even under scaffolding, the cathedral commands attention. It doesn’t quite match the sheer scale or ornate grandeur of some Italian cathedrals we’ve seen, but it has its own quiet majesty. Restoration work continues, and it’s clear the French have poured heart and skill into bringing this icon back to life after the fire.

Notre Dame

Notre Dame

Notre Dame

Notre Dame

Inside, however, we had a less-than-holy experience. The gift shop—tucked directly within the church—was a logistical nightmare. Melissa queued patiently for nearly an 30 minutes, only to be told the ornament she wanted didn’t exist. Moments later, she spotted it on another shelf. Back into the line we went, inching forward another 30 minutes to cover what felt like five meters. By the time we finally checked out, our patience had worn thin. Still, amid the frustration, the sound of a mass being celebrated nearby reminded us of the cathedral’s deeper purpose. The chants and organ music reverberated through the stone, lending a sense of timelessness.

Skipping lunch, we tackled some practicalities—posting parcels home. The French postal staff were surprisingly helpful, guiding us through the process with efficiency. With that done, we turned to art. The Picasso Museum offered three floors of exploration, though the third was closed due to a strike. Of course—this is France, after all. Still, wandering through Picasso’s evolving styles was fascinating, from cubist experiments to playful sketches.

Picasso

Picasso

The evening was reserved for the Moulin Rouge. Our plan to take the bus quickly unraveled when we discovered three stops with the same name. Confused, we hailed a taxi instead. The ride was its own spectacle: the driver darted through a chaotic ballet of pushbikes, electric scooters, motorbikes, and cars, all seemingly ignoring traffic rules. Somehow, he delivered us safely to the theatre.

Dinner 50Euro

Dinner nearby was simple—pasta, vegetables, and two drinks—but still managed to cost €50. Proximity to the Moulin Rouge clearly comes at a premium.

Moulin Rouge

Moulin Rouge

Inside the theatre, the organization surprised us. Guests were seated by staff, eliminating the scramble for “best seats.” We good fortune with a spot directly in front of the stage, elevated just enough for a perfect view. No photos were allowed, but we bought a program as a keepsake. Our tablemates from Poland and Norway added to the convivial atmosphere, and the champagne (included in the ticket) was both delightful and expensive.

The show itself was two hours of spectacle. The dancing and singing were everything you’d expect—scantily dressed performers in extravagant headdresses, choreographed with precision. But the interludes stole the show:

• Two skaters spinning at dizzying speed on a tiny platform.

• A contortionist twisting himself into shapes that made us feel clumsy just tying our shoelaces.

• An acrobat and strongman duo whose feats of balance and strength drew gasps from the crowd.

It was dazzling, absurd, and thoroughly entertaining—a Parisian icon that lives up to its reputation.

Afterward, our intention was the walk some of the way of the of the 4.5 km home to avoid high premium fares. Around the 2 km mark, we summoned an Uber for remaining distance. We arrived just before midnight, exhausted but exhilarated. My step counter confirmed it: more than 20,000 steps in a single day. Paris had kept us moving, and we wouldn’t have it any other way.