We leave the Loire Valley behind with a final sweep of countryside views in our rearview mirror, and head toward the grandeur of Versailles. Today we’re walking the shaded lanes of the Estate of Trianon. Despite the crowds, it is quite peaceful here.
Versailles' Trianon Estate
The Estate of Trianon feels like a secret garden tucked behind the overwhelming grandeur of the main palace. Originally built as a retreat from the rigid court life of Versailles, it was a place of privacy and relative simplicity—at least by royal standards. The Grand Trianon, designed for Louis XIV in 1687, is an elegant pink marble pavilion with columned arcades and mirrored salons that open onto geometrically manicured gardens. In contrast, the Petit Trianon, given by Louis XVI to Marie Antoinette, is more intimate, surrounded by her dreamlike English-style gardens, a grotto, and the whimsical Queen’s Hamlet.
Despite its idyllic setting, one modern annoyance remains: it’s surprisingly hard to find a public bathroom here. We wander through rose-covered trellises and lush green paths looking for signage, only to end up in a game of hide-and-seek with the elusive toilets. Eventually we find one—tucked behind a building with no clear sign—and the lines are worthy of a Disney theme park. So yes, enjoy the peaceful beauty of Trianon…but make sure to pee before you enter!
Our Versailles Hotel
Hôtel la Residence du Berry in Versailles may not be the grandest hotel in town, but it’s full of charm and local character. Housed in an 18th-century building, the hotel once belonged to a notary of the French royal court, and the structure retains much of its period character—creaky wood floors and a snug billiard room. We’re in the Saint-Louis district, one of the oldest and most historic neighborhoods in Versailles. This area is quieter than the tourist-thronged streets near the palace gates, but it’s rich in atmosphere with its cobbled lanes and cafés where locals linger.
Palace of Versailles
Our next morning is devoted to the Palace of Versailles. Even with so much written about its opulence, nothing quite prepares us for the scale of it—the gilded gates, the Hall of Mirrors, the endless formal gardens.
Walking through the Palace of Versailles gardens feels like stepping into a romance novel—I can imagine the trysts that went on here back in the day. Gravel paths stretch in perfect symmetry, flanked by sculpted hedges, marble statues, and bubbling fountains that appear around every corner. The grand canal gleams in the distance, drawing our eye across a vast, manicured landscape where everything feels impossibly precise. Classical music lingers in the air as we wander from one ornate grove to the next, each one revealing its own secrets.
In the Hall of Mirrors, we’re surrounded by 357 mirrors reflecting rows of crystal chandeliers, gilded statues, and towering arched windows that flood the room with light. Once used for royal ceremonies and diplomatic receptions, this was the stage where French power was performed—with grandeur so dazzling it leaves no doubt who ruled.
The Gallery of Great Battles in the Palace of Versailles is a grand, vaulted hall lined with towering canvases that chronicle France’s military victories from the Middle Ages through the Napoleonic era. Walking through it, I’m dwarfed by the scale of the paintings and the sheer power on display. Versailles does exactly what it was built to do: impress, overwhelm, and remind you who’s in charge. And in this case, who’s in charge isn’t just a king—it’s an entire system built on the foundations of wealth and war. Every gilded ceiling and triumphant battle scene reinforces the idea that power isn’t something quietly held; it’s something declared and defended at great cost. My lasting impression of Versailles is that it’s not just a symbol of royalty, it’s a monument to the belief that authority must be visually, materially, and militarily undeniable.
The true highlight of our night in Versailles isn’t gold-plated royalty. It’s dinner. Chez Tiouiche is tucked away on Rue Saint-Julien, just feet from the palace gates, and it steals the show. We step inside the warm, tiled interior and are instantly transported to North Africa. The staff glide around the tables like hosts at a holiday feast. This family-run gem is a warm hug, treating everyone like family as they serve us generous portions of richly spiced Moroccan couscous, tajines, and kefta.
3 Nights in Paris
Returning the rental car proves less enchanting. Sixt Versailles might offer excellent customer service, but the logistics are maddening because there’s no place to park when returning a car. Eric parks illegally while I dash inside, and we both agree—next time, drop the car elsewhere. We opt for an Uber into Paris. With too much luggage for a train and no patience left after the rental car debacle, it’s the right call.
Within the hour, we’re checked in at Le Relais Saint-Germain. Our top-floor suite has a postcard-perfect view of Parisian life below—terrace cafés, people lingering over wine, the steady hum of city energy. The staff here are warm and genuine, the kind who ask you how your day went, and the breakfast is excellent. The elevator is minuscule—Eric and I can barely squeeze in together—but it adds to the charm. This hotel is a good Parisian base, ideally placed for wandering Saint-Germain, Notre Dame, the Louvre, and Luxembourg Garden.
Wandering the City of Light
We enter Notre Dame Cathedral as the doors open, through the entry line in minutes and soon standing beneath the soaring arches, sunlight filtering through the rose windows. There’s a reverent hush in the air and the lyrics of “God Help the Outcasts” from Disney’s Hunchback of Notre Dame plays in my head. Across the street, Saint-Chapelle beckons with a long line and entry fee, but the weary faces in line convince us to skip it.
We spend the rest of the day simply wandering. Inside Galerie Vivienne, one of the oldest covered passages in Paris, I stumble into Librairie Jousseaume, a dreamy little bookshop with dusty spines and literary magic stacked to the ceiling. I could happily spend hours here, lost among the shelves. We also spend time in The Red Wheelbarrow, a cherished English-language bookstore located in the 6th arrondissement. It was founded by Canadian-born Penelope Fletcher, who opened her first used bookstore when she was 19.
Next stop is E. Dehillerin, the holy grail for cooks and culinary nerds. Eric is in his element, running his hands over copper pans and chef’s knives. Founded in 1820, the shop is endearingly old-school and refuses to cater to trends. Sadly, our suitcase won’t accommodate a stockpot, so we leave empty-handed, but content.
We grab lunch at Filakia, a quick bite in the vibrant Montorgueil neighborhood in the 2nd arrondissement of Paris. This area buzzes with energy—narrow pedestrian streets lined with cafés, bakeries, thrift shops, and lively terraces. My zucchini pita is fried to perfection, the tzatziki is bursting with lemon, and paired with a cold mint tea, it’s a perfect moment of refreshment on a warm Paris day.
Market Shopping in Paris
Our last day in Paris brings a slower rhythm. We join Silvia, dynamic guide and owner of Frenchxican, for a food and market tour at Marché d’Aligre. Her deep relationships with the vendors, her storytelling, and her obvious love for this neighborhood make the tour feel less like a business and more like a morning walk with a friend. We sample pastries, coffee, cheeses, charcuterie, fruits, and wine, meeting butchers and bakers who obviously adore this petite Mexican transplant.
I love everything Silvia includes in her tour, but my favorite is the mini merveilleux from Aux Merveilleux de Fred. These airy meringues with crème fouettée are unlike anything I’ve ever tasted. I tell Eric these will be my final request for food on my death bed. There’s a shop in New York, wonder if they taste as sinful when shipped.
Afterward, we drift through Le Marais, Île de la Cité, Saint-Germain-des-Prés, and the Latin District, pausing in cafés, bookstores, and patisseries along the way. We walk along the Seine, browsing the bouquinistes, which offer all sorts of unexpected treasures. Dinner at Le Saigon d’Antan offers good eavesdropping as a university professor and his students get into a debate and two female students with different accents discuss what it’s like living in Paris. The city transforms at dusk—buildings glowing, street musicians playing beneath bridges, and couples kissing and walking hand-in-hand along the Seine.
Paris is not a place to “do.” It’s a place to be.
By the end of our stay, we know this much: the magic of Paris isn’t in its sightseeing. It’s in its side streets and tiny cafes and eateries. It’s in people-watching and wandering the many green spaces where Parisians stop to enjoy life. Same for the rest of France – this is a place best explored when you have time to do so. Don’t try to squeeze everything in, you’ll miss the magic of France if you do.
Did you miss our stories about France? If so, here they are:
