I have been to Paris three times, but only for a week total (actually, slightly less, but who's counting?). The trips were three nights on my own in 1984, three nights with Carol, Maddy, and Torie in 2013, and one night with Carol on our way back from Bordeaux in 2024.
(Editor's Note: Forcing me to start early, eh. Apparently you are counting. Writer: The overwhelming need to be precise is a curse. But sometimes a blessing. Editor: STOP!)
Carol has been four times, for eight days (actually a little less), so a week in Paris sounded like a great idea. It, guess what, it is a great idea.
So we headed to Paris. We ended up with a two-room suite at a hotel situated near the Louvre. The rooms were covered by our travel plan that we belong to, one in which we have significant flexibility of where to go, choices of houses, apartments, resorts, and hotels. Not all of our trips are through this plan, but fabulous trips like Rome, Santa Barbara, and now Paris are.
Because we paid three years in advance, we got a discounted rate on re-upping. And, because we were members from the start, we get a lower rate. So when we book these trips, the stays feel like they are free (but not the flights/food/tickets -- but we love to travel, if you didn't know!).
Anyhow, the challenge of this trip was my stomach had a rocky beginning. Oh, we still did stuff, but it was hard barely eating, cutting back the schedule, and basically not being able to live the Parisian life. I was over it after three days, but did not have any oysters or escargot on the trip, which is what I was looking forward to most on the menus!
Carol later went through a much shorter rough stretch with her stomach (not the same thing as mine, but you don't really want details on either of our issues, trust me).
Paris is a fabulous city, and deserves no blame for our two different issues. But come, join us on our journey and read all about it.
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