Tips for Lyon and France Generally

Posted on May 3, 2026 by Catherine

Of course the ironclad rules regarding “bonjour” and “merci” apply everywhere. But here are a few more things we learned.

Surprise terrain

Lyon is flat except where it is absurdly hilly. Our first journey into the neighborhood Croix Rousse was a simple bus ride…and then a climb of at least 200 stair steps. We deduced that taking the bus into this neighborhood could be risky. Nothing in the google directions had a word about stairs or elevation climb (some do, some don’t) and it was not entirely pleasant. Every time we thought the climbing was about over we turned a corner and there were more stairs. The metro is much safer in this regard. There will almost always be an escalator up.

Lunch and dinner reservations

Do not hesitate to walk into a bouchon or other lunch or dinner restaurant without a reservation. We were welcomed every time…it is safest to arrive close to opening which works well for Americans who eat earlier than Europeans. We have found using online reservations (often in the google maps entry) very easy and reliable, and no scary phone conversations required!

Breakfast

In busy times finding a place for morning coffee and a croissant can be challenging and frustrating. If you ID a restaurant that is open early they likely have a petit dejeuner formule…a hot drink, a croissant, fresh juice and a tartine (slice of bread or baguette with butter and jam) for a low price, e.g, €13.50. This is a fine alternative if you have been checking boulangeries and viennoiseries that have no coffee and/or no sitting area, critical information which one must glean by searching the listing photos. The quality of coffee also varies…try cafe creme if you have been disappointed in the cappuccinos, which were delicious in Paris and crummy in Lyon.

When is this store open?

Google maps shows if a place is open at the moment but rarely shows hours and days. Look across the entry for “website” and even if you are not facile in French you will be able to find hours and days open (“horaire” is often the label on the website for this info). Write down the days of the week in French on your phone so you can decipher the horaires; Monday through Saturday may be displayed as l- s, for example, and where in the US it would say “closed Mondays” here it will more often say the days open, mardi – dimanche, Tuesday through Sunday. The days a store or museum is open vary a lot, as do the ways the days open are expressed.

Bus directions

Google maps is good to excellent for finding your way, but making sure you are at a stop going in the right direction is not always clear. Go to the bus stop and read the list of stops. If your stop is there you are on the right side of the street to catch your bus.

Dialing phone numbers

We felt pretty happy we bought the Verizon international plan which allows calls within France and to US numbers. However, the instructions from Verizon are incomplete and we figured it out ourselves after trial and error. Yes, you must start in-country calls with +33. However, when phone numbers are displayed here (e.g. when you select “call” from a google maps entry) they almost always start with zero. 04 36 78 78…etc. You must dial +33 4367878…no leading zero. (For the +, hold down the zero for 1-2 seconds.). Note this requires writing down the displayed number somewhere so you can dial it correctly from the phone dial pad after you add the +33 and drop the leading zero.

Intercity trains

Watch ahead for your stop and prepare for a fast exit! Unless your destination is the end of the line, you will have barely enough time to gather your baggage and get off. Do not wait for the train to stop…get your stuff and get to the door.

Au Revoir a Albi and a Quick Overnight in Castres

Posted on May 2, 2026 by Catherine

After putting off the planning that would get us from Albi to Lyon we finally worked out a possible route. We had added a third night to Albi and perusing the tourist information about the area of the Tarn river we decided to spend a night in Castres where there is a museum entirely devoted to Spanish art. We booked an inexpensive hotel and made the short drive south.

Before we left Albi we picked up some cheese and a baguette, which we ate upon arriving in the nice park outside the museum. Musee Goya was just big enough and the collection, the foundation of which was a family’s donation of their paintings and a few sculptures and church carvings, was somewhat idiosyncratic. We spent a peaceful hour, checked into the hotel, and finished putting the driving plan into a google map with stops predetermined since it was to be a long drive. We are lousy at last minute decisions when driving in unknown territory for five hours.

I had one place in mind that I did not want to miss…driving over the highest bridge in the world, Viaduc de Millau. The map indicated there was a visitor center and it looked like a good place to pause, pee, and eat the baguette and cheese.

I have to stop here and complain about google maps. This drive was a mix of small roads (little did we know how small!) and a long section on the toll road A75 which goes over the viaduct. Every time we made a small adjustment, like adding or removing a stop, google rerouted the entire route away from A75, regardless of deselecting Avoid Tolls, regardless of the google defaults in settings. Grrrr. We were so paranoid about losing the route that we saved it, texted it to each other, and double checked the route we wanted was the one that was saved. Took over an hour all told.

Looks like a more or less easy drive, oui? The first section seemed like it would be the most tedious, roughly 65 miles, 1 hour 45 minutes, from Castres to the A75. Then maybe half an hour to the viaduct, stop at visitors center, tollway, then surface roads to Le Puy En Velay. The first section was pretty easy, through a few towns on two lane blacktop roads, little traffic, much like the drive from Toulouse to Albi. As we approached A75 suddenly the directions confused me…get on D999 to the ramp, but there were multiple “deviations” or detours and we are no longer heading to A75. Pulled over, rechecked map, went back, 5 minutes and we were on the tollway. As we approached the viaduct we got excited and, wow, it’s pretty darned high with views in all directions. I kept asking David if he saw the visitors center on the map, and he kept saying yes, and then we’re clearly past the area of the bridge and heading north. Got off, rerouted back to the visitors center, missed the exit, went back over the bridge, paid another toll, and at last found the correct exit. The visitors center is great, lots and lots of information about the design and construction (took only 3 years…we couldn’t build something like this in the US in 10). It opened in 2004 and is reputed to have changed Europe by providing a clear and fast north-south route.

After a picnic lunch and a hike up to the view point we confidently got back in the car to continue our NNE journey to Le Puy. Google again insisted we avoid the toll road and before we knew it we were heading south, back over the bridge. We remembered the avoid tolls route from the night before and surmised this was where we were headed. We got off, drove to the now familiar roundabout, got back on A75 and we were thankfully on our way.

We felt pretty good that the confusion was well behind us. The tollway is great and we have the process down. (If only modern cars would stop nagging when you have to pull close to the ticket machine.). It seemed like only moments and we were exiting the tollway and onto the surface roads. Gorgeous little towns, green hills in every direction, we rolled along making good time. We enjoyed sights such as a very, very small town (10 houses?) that was signed on either side of the narrow road with the “ville haute” and the “ville basse.” Perhaps there had been a feud? The towns got smaller and fewer. The road curved up, up up and then down, down down. Amazing views, interrupted by forests and rivers. At least five times we drove down, down into a miniscule hamlet, crossed the tiny rushing river, then back up into the hills.

The drive went on and on. More cows than towns or people, interrupted by the occasional bicyclist and “Attention! Randonneurs” warning sign. Have you ever taken an unfamiliar country road and suddenly wondered where you were? Well, after hours of driving I began to despair, even though I kept checking the compass on the dash to make sure we were indeed heading in a general NNE direction. The countryside opened up as we were clearly on a high plateau with no civilization in sight. I asked David to double check we were indeed on the route to Le Puy, a place we had never been to or contemplated. I couldn’t picture how this completely open, unpopulated countryside was indeed only 20 minutes from Le Puy, which I was pretty sure was an actual city.

Suddenly there it was, a large, gorgeous basin of a city with crazy isolated peaks topped with statues and churches. Relieved, tired, ready to stop moving, in a few minutes after entering the city we were pulling into the hotel parking lot. Wow. I sure was happy to lock the car, stagger to our room, and think about an indulgent, wine-soaked dinner. And that is just what we did.

Albi Week-end

Posted on April 28, 2026 by Catherine

And now we leave the exquisite city of Albi and begin making our way to Castres, Le Puy, Lyon…and home.

We enjoyed Toulouse so much that I was a little sad when we arrived n Albi Saturday afternoon. It was really hard to part with daughter, son-in-law, and granddaughter after a simply terrific week. Our granddaughter was a delight—of course—and always entertaining, son-in-law a master at navigation in addition to being a great guy, having alone time with my daughter as we wandered window-shopping,…now we had to learn again to enjoy a new city, just the two of us.

We checked into the Mercure Albi Rives du Tarn, a lovely big room, a view of the river, and a somewhat corporate upscale place. None of the warm, informal vibes of the Hotel Joke in Paris or the Hotel Albert 1er in Toulouse. (These are unfair comparisons especially since the Hotel Albert may be my favorite hotel of all time.)

**Our hotel is across the river nearest to the bridge**

So we were a little down until we walked across the river and into the old city…oh so old city..of Albi. It is as lovely as advertised, almost everything built of red brick, ancient houses from the 1400’s, twisty streets and alleys. And again, a plethora of great cafes, restaurants, boulangeries. We were back in a good mood by the end of the afternoon.

Albi really is indescribably beautiful. The Toulouse-Lautrec museum is great! We spent 3-4 hours there and were grateful they close for lunch so we could sit a while and refresh ourselves, then dive back in.

I did get a feeling that the vibe is not as warm as Paris or Toulouse, but maybe not having our family with us was the cause of that. Still, “Bonjour” and “Merci” worked the same magic. I will miss speaking French!

Lousy for iPhone photos…it is simply too tall.

On our last full day after touring the Cathedral de Sainte Cecille, the largest brick structure in the world (!) we sat down at what we expected to be a routine (albeit very French) lunch at L’esprit Du Moulin. It was right out of a movie. I had a “menu” (fixed price for 3 courses) for €24.50 that had five or six choices for entree (appetizer), plat (main dish) and dessert. It was hard to choose! We decided on no wine. I had soupe de poisson (fish soup), heavenly, and a onglet de veau avec sauce de cepes (veal something, akin to hanger steak, with mushroom sauce). Tarte tatin, usually a miniature apple pie (sort of) seemed doable but was two types of chantilly (whipped creme), a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and the tarte. And a praline cookie. By the time I got to dessert I could barely eat a bite…and the no wine decision was undermined when, after a foursome departed from the next table the waiter, without a word, brought over a huge wine glass and filled it halfway…the remainder of the wine the foursome had left. Delicious and so fun and so French. David had an enormous (truly) beautiful salad with sliced duck gizzards scattered through and some other duck (breast?) pieces, with a small slice of bread topped with foie gras about 1/2 an inch thick, cassoulet, and a similarly overwhelming dessert. We were happy to sit for an hour and a half or so, soaking in the atmosphere and trying to consume this enormous meal.

Our morning of departure to Castres we went back to the wonderful Maison Janin Artisan Boulanger for coffee and croissants. I asked her if they used commercial yeast..of course not, they maintain their own starter. Stupid question!

We drove to Castres, enjoyed the Goya Museum (Spanish artists only, and three Goyas), now looking for supper. Off tomorrow to Le Puy, a long drive through unknown territory!

All True

Posted on April 28, 2026 by Catherine

We left Paris by train, high speed to Bordeaux and then a bit of a crawl to Toulouse. Almost five hours all told, but the five of us were physically and mentally tired and thus it was nice to just sit, each in our own heads. Granddaughter watched her ipad with headphones, Mark read, I wrote about Paris and then veg’d out…the trip went quickly. Toulouse was thankfully the end of the line so we had plenty of time to gather up luggage. We had been worried about the walk to the hotel, fearing Toulouse late afternoon would be hot, but walking on the shady side for 20 minutes was pleasant and eased us into this wonderful, lovely, friendly city. The hotel was on a short street off one of the main streets of the historic center, and we were greeted by the always friendly and helpful staff.

We ate so much each night. Boullion Capitole our first night was so much fun with bustling charming servers and great food that we knew we were going to like this city. Stayed four nights, hated to leave. And to top it off, probably my favorite hotel ever. Comfy rooms, good air conditioning, fabulous breakfast. Hotel Albert 1er, we love you.

Wonderful hotel. That is a part of the breakfast buffet…included fresh squeezed OJ at a do-it-yourself machine and very good coffee.

What’s “All True?” That Toulouse is the easier, less expensive alternative to Paris, as often advertised. The prices were about 20-30% cheaper than Paris. The city is sooo pretty: red brick buildings dominate, streets are clean, walking everywhere was a pleasure, every clerk, wait person…to the woman security guard at the city hall…was smiling, friendly, helpful. Lots of playgrounds made granddaughter extremely happy. One in a plaza otherwise filled with outdoor seating for the surrounding restaurants, one next to the tourist office, one in a large park where the Japanese garden is, one we didn’t have time to find next to the Toulouse Musee. This childtren’s natural history museum enchanted granddaughter—her mother said she had never been so engrossed by minerals, butterflies, taxidermied animals, even the animation of the earth’s landmasses forming and reforming which she watched twice, then as we were getting ready to leave she asked to go back and watch it again, this time wiping a tear and hugging her mom—“the music makes me sad.” Gosh I love them so much.

Food, excellent. Weather, perfect. Shopping and window shopping, delightful. Visit Toulouse!!

We were to leave on Saturday. For our last full day we got out of the city by renting a car and driving an hour or so south into the foothills of the Pyrenees to a small town that had a Friday market. David and I had so enjoyed these last time we were in France so I really wanted my daughter to experience one. The only bad part was getting the rental car out of the horrid parking lot in Toulouse!

This town, Foix, is magical and the market was a blast. We arrived around 10, and stayed several hours after the market ended just hanging out enjoying our lunch purchases (the bread! The cheese! The olives!!) and letting granddaughter enjoy the playground smack in the center of town. The scenery is all greenery, flowers, the river, Pyrenees in the distance. A great day.

We returned to Toulouse and ate a magnificent dinner at the Maison du Cassoulet. Yup, we all had cassoulet and a wine suggested by the server which will live in my memory forever.

Only down moment was saying goodbye to daughter, son-in-law and granddaughter. Next morning they left for Spain and we drove to Albi.

Four Days Fly By In Paris

Posted on April 21, 2026 by Catherine

It was delightful to be back in Paris, especially because we met our daughter, son-in-law, and almost five year old granddaughter to share the city with. Short version—we ate, we rode the metro, we went sightseeing, we walked, and we ate some more.

I highly recommend our hotel, one of the local chain Astotels. This time we stayed at Hotel Joke, a little higher up in Montmartre than our last visit at Hotel Joyce. Comfortable, welcoming, convenient, snacks out in the afternoon into the evening, big bowls of apples, all part of their services. Our room was huge and had cross ventilation which was great in the pre-air-conditioning month of April.

We were close to several metro stops and we took full advantage of them. Our granddaughter LOVED the metro—the speed thrilled her. On our second day we inadvertently got separated—the doors closed before I could get on, and David was in a different car from the kids—but of course the next train came in a minute, perhaps two minutes, and our cell phones worked fine so we were back together in no time.

This sudden separation made a huge impression on granddaughter, who thereafter was our shepherd, making sure we all got on and off together without incident. She would run back and forth to her grandpapa to tell him how many more stops until we got off, and took his hand to lead him off and on the train. So sweet and so mature of her…and she loved this new responsibility.

Uniquely for us we visited no museums, just wandered and took it all in. I had made dinner reservations for 3 of the nights so we would not have to make decisions and this was a hit. Highly recommended: Au Bord Des Copains in Montmartre, Caboulot in Montmartre, and our last night we said goodbye to Paris with a leisurely and wonderful dinner at Vins Des Pyrenees. Granddaughter ate everything and then some (chewed on the bones from her father’s confit de canard) and was goofily well behaved and polite. Her sweet, soft “bonjour” and “merci” delighted every adult we met.

Now we are en route to Toulouse, way south, on a high speed train. In a few days we will part with our family as they go to the Spanish coast and Barcelona, while David and I spend a quiet weekend in Albi and then meander to Lyon, a night at the airport in Paris, and, alas, home to San Francisco.

Burgers, salads, galettes, madeleines…food in Paris is delightful.

A beautiful few days of perfect weather for enjoying the essence of Paris.

Last Day in Paris

Posted on October 29, 2025 by Catherine

Musee de Liberation & our last meal

Last day—and hotel transfer day as we had an early morning flight back to SFO from Charles deGaulle airport. We knew trying to get there on time would be stressful day of, so David had booked a night at the Hilton Express. What a lovely hotel! There is a kind of courtyard area between all the onsite hotels with a teeny green park and very respectable playground which I imagine could be a life saver for families traveling with smaller kids.

Our plan worked just fine. We took an Uber to the hotel right after breakfast, observed rush hour would have been impossible if we weren’t a day early, checked in—our room was ready—and then took the B train back into Paris which dropped us a block away from our last museum, the Musee de Liberation of Paris. Fascinating and sad—this was not the end of the war and the destruction and sheer horror of being occupied by a fascist army was difficult to absorb. Highly recommended if you are able to manage it emotionally.

We got on the Metro and headed to Au Pied Du Cochon for our last big meal in France. It was a fitting end…and my bonus was we were a few doors down from the enormous kitchenware store E. Dehillerin and I actually had a few things I needed. Plus one impulse item, the square bread pan with the slide on lid for making certain breads and other fun foods. We got back on the B train in the midst of rush hour and some train system problems, but after three trains one arrived with “room” and we squeezed in…back to CDG and our last night in the Holiday Inn Express.

Shopping Quests, the Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame

Posted on October 28, 2025 by Catherine

Thursday was the first day we had no museum timed tickets, no things we had to go see, just an open day and thank goodness for it. It was lovely to dawdle over breakfast and hang out.

We did have assignments, though. Our wonderful daughter had given us, as she did in April, a list of skin care items only available in France, and two fun things that she hoped we could track down. One of the fun things was at a store “Merci”, which was noted in France as “the hottest concept store in Paris” and I’d say from the activity around the store (tourists were photographing the outside of the Merci used bookstore/coffeeshop as we walked up) yes, it’s hot. Concept store is a phrase we have seen around Europe which seems to describe a store that is not built around one particular consumer category (clothing, household goods, coffee beans) but is the more eclectic kind of store that is so common around where we live. Merci is anchored by its clothing, but has housewares–very trendy and cute–lots of accessories, handbags, etc. We were the oldest people in the building.

Our assignment from Merci was to find a tote bag, apparently something that went viral and comes in a bunch of colors and is not expensive. Sure! Then we agonized over the colors but settled on brown with the name Merci in dark blue. As we were ringing up I asked the (of course lovely and sweet) young woman at the counter where we could get the skin care stuff. When she saw the list she said any “Pharmacie” would have it all. Super! Our other assignment was to find a Kutjen store–tiny boutique stores that sell cashmere things. One of them is in Le Marais, so off we headed to our favorite wandering- -around neighborhood. We were, it turned out, on the edge of Le Marais so decided to walk.

Within two blocks we found a a pharmacie and though it didn’t look very big what the heck. The store security guy was an older man who was able to point us to a particular brand we were looking for, and as we pulled things from the list he appeared with a basket. So nice. We had one last item we couldn’t find but the young woman at the cash register knew exactly where it was. We also grabbed a few more tubes of Homeoplasmine, a magical skin irritation ointment that for some reason only exists in France. It’s pretty great. We crossed the 100 euro mark and got our tax refund forms, and off we trekked to find the Kutjen store.

Again, tiny store, super nice people working there, and they had exactly what our daughter had requested. It was delightful.

It really does help you explore and enjoy a new place if you have a quest or two! We would never have gone into these stores, never would have had such pleasant interactions, without a list of stuff we had to find. I recommend having a few of these for the times you don’t have plans and want a little guidance in your wandering.

Onward

After our delicious falafel lunch (see post on restaurant notes) we thought we’d better at least walk by the Eiffel Tower, so took the metro out to the banks of the Seine and a lot of people taking pictures. We stood there for ten minutes, looked up at the tower which is so big and quite ugly, watched tourists, and that was that. But, wait, isn’t there something else we could do or see in a drizzly late afternoon? Notre Dame! We hopped on the RER (the train) and were there in a few minutes. Stood in line 10 minutes and we were in. WOW. So glorious, clean, light…it was just fantastic. And at the last chapel there was a plaque that this was where Charles deGaulle and his generals came the day Paris was liberated for a singing of the Magnificat. We learned more about this at the Musee Liberation de Paris. It’s so cool to learn how things unfolded back in the day when the US was a hero.

By the time it was evening and we were back in our hotel we decided to return to Poni, where we had eaten our first night in Paris, and had another very good meal. What a great place. As I paid the bill I mentioned we had been there a few nights earlier, and the man said of course he recognized us and pointed to the table where we had sat the first night. “Bonne nuit!”

Notes on restaurants

Posted on October 28, 2025 by Catherine

Exceedingly good falafel

When we were on our food tour way back on Monday our guide recommended a particular falafel place in Le Marais if we were in the area again. Falafel sounded awfully good, and the restaurant was a few blocks away. It was great! Not only was the food perfect, no one yelled at me (a la New York Jewish places, for example). It was jammed, a little crazy, but we were seated right away and it was all “Bonjour!” and “Bonne journee.” Tables were literally inches apart so we ended up talking to the older man and his elderly mom at the next table. They were from Quebec, on their way back from a gorilla excursion in Africa. She is still travelling at 87!

Stray from your list

Feel the vibes and leave if you do not feel comfortable. One of our last evenings I got out my list and we headed to a recommended place. Walked out…just didn’t feel friendly. We kept going and wandered into Comptoir des Archives, a casual, kind of jammed small bistrot, and immediately felt good. I had duck confit and roasted potatoes which were both delicious, as was David’s veal stew with rice. Small wooden tables, some jostling to get seated, and a great meal.

Marches couverts

If you visit one of the marches couverts and want food to eat there, do not be shy about asking for help (after saying “bonjour” of course). You may have to muscle your way to a counter, or ask where you can sit with food from the pasta place, but do not hesitate. They are happy to feed you and these are friendly spots where spontaneous conversations are the rule. While at Marche Couvert des Enfants Rouges we met a wonderful woman from Brazil (now a Parisian), an insanely good looking couple from Florida who were working their way home from southeast Asia, directed a lost tourist to where you could buy a glass or bottle of wine. The boys from Florida summarized their trip as “Loved Cambodia, hated Viet Nam.” Anyway, one of them had been Netanyahu’s makeup guy at a television station in Israel. “The guy is a total asshole and NEVER goes out without makeup.” Explains a lot about his relationship to dear leader. The terribly nice woman from Brazil who took our picture and even though she understood English did not let me resort to it. “Only French!” she demanded. Such fun.

Museum Find, Lunch Find, and Lots of Walking

Posted on October 27, 2025 by Catherine

Musee Marmottan Monet

From the metro stop to the museum was a walk in a large park.

Oooh, this was a delightful surprise. I have in truth seen enough garden and water lily Monets in my lifetime and was unenthusiastic thinking it was all Monet. Yes, there is a large Monet collection but the special exhibit was L’Empire de Sommeil…an entertaining collection of paintings from many eras of people sleeping. We loved it! The accompanying book was too heavy to bring back so I am ordering it when I return, I hope. This is one of the museums a bit off the path and you do not need a time of entry ticket–just show up. So glad we did.

Le Bois, our lunch find

Hungry after such a wonderful dose of art, and the lovely walk through the park, we happened on Le Bois. Best hamburger of my life…David was more restrained and had a Caesar salad with smoked salmon. Lunch was in full swing, and the noise level climbed as more conversations launched around us. The service was great. Very warm and welcoming. Sated, we decided this was the day to explore Montmartre so we hopped on the metro and headed to the LaMarck station.

Montmartre–lovely and insane

While our hotel, which we were very satisfied with (Joyce Hotel, an “Astotel”), is at the bottom of Montmartre we had yet to explore the hill itself. Famed for its artistic history, it’s vineyard, some cool clubs, and the enormous Sacre Coeur at the tippy top, it is also a climb, with stairs, winding streets, more stairs, and even a funicular. I can imagine in the summer this place is almost unnavigable, but in the fall it was manageable and had a few nice surprises.

David’s research was great, again, as he knew there was a metro stop way up, perhaps even at the top of the hill, LaMarck-Caulaincourt. Well, it’s not quite that high, but high enough that instead of a few stairs or short escalator there is a continuously running elevator which goes from the metro platform up two stories to a street level exit. We emerged and were immediately confused about where we were and which way to go. Google maps are great…but sometimes getting your bearings takes some concentration. We wanted to wander enough to see the pretty spots, then check out Sacre Coeur, and perhaps wander all the way down to our hotel.

This neighborhood is by turns picturesque and insane. From Wikipedia: “Near the end of the 19th century and at the beginning of the 20th, during the Belle Époque, many artists lived, worked, or had studios in or around Montmartre, including Amedeo Modigliani, Claude Monet, Pierre-Auguste Renoir, Edgar Degas, Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec, Suzanne Valadon, Maurice Utrillo, Piet Mondrian, Pablo Picasso, Camille Pissarro and Vincent van Gogh.” Today Renoir’s garden is part of the small museum which we would have visited but we just ran out of time.

We walked by the famous Agile Lapin, a small club–it was named at one time A Gill Lapin (Gill was the owner) but it devolved into its current name. La Maison Rose, the vineyard, and zig zagged up and up, finally reaching the touristic insanity of Place du Tertre (jammed with artists doing caricatures and more serious portraits) and around to Sacre Coeur. It was wild how block by block this small area changes completely.

After emerging from Sacre Coeur we wandered down, down, and within a few blocks it was tranquil again. I had been looking for a local artisan store to buy earrings for our beloved dog sitter, and suddenly we were in a village-like section where I found La Fabrique du 18, the perfect place to find-and I did-the perfect earrings for Roni. As I was completing the purchase I asked the proprietor if she knew of any place that sold authentic, all wool, made in France berets for children. We had been looking everywhere but all we found were made in China. Her response? “Around the corner.” Literally around the corner was a small shop, Laulhere, that sells ONLY made in France berets and knit caps, and the woman ushered us to the children’s section where we found one for our granddaughter in a bright dark pink. Adorable.

We continued to wander down, through the former red light district, now full of musical instrument stores and lots of young people, Pigalle. We passed countless tiny food options–like kiosks built into the buildings, some just takeaway, some with two or five seats–and found ourselves a half block from our hotel. A lovely afternoon. We celebrated by going to a restaurant at the end of our block, Le Comptoir Boutary, which was spectacular. I looked it up afterward to find it is consistently rated five stars and Michelin listed. A lucky find. We drank an entire bottle of wine with dinner and were glad it was only half a block to our hotel.

Boutary version of boeuf tartare was magical

End of our time in Nice

Posted on April 9, 2025 by Catherine

We had just a day or two left in Nice and we were happy to take my aunt’s suggestion to see the Ephrussi-Rothschild villa and gardens in Villefranche-Sûr-Mer. Hurrah, again, for a fully functioning public transportation system.

I would compare the ride, which was close to an hour, to the delightful bus ride we took through Kyoto our last day in town in 2024. So interesting, so lovely, the time flew by. The bus dropped us at the entrance to the villa grounds and we walked up the hill in the morning sun, bought our tickets and walked through the very early spring gardens…not a lot was blooming but the views, the great weather, and the ever changing garden designs were delightful. After an hour or so I was, of course, hungry and we walked through the villa itself to the restaurant. In a minute we were seated in the soaring, elegant room, only a few tables occupied. The host, a handsome young man, was from Portugal and we had an extended conversation when he asked where we were from, where we had traveled, and when we mentioned we loved Mexico he said he‘d been there because his dad married a woman from there and they now lived in Cancun. We turned to the menu and soon were drinking a half bottle of rose and devouring our customary French lunch. We’re getting used to this high class life.

The villa itself is rather small with human-sized rooms, though the art is a bit one-note. Nothing to knock our socks off but the film about the doyenne of the villa and grounds was pretty interesting (we’d have liked more details on her apparently strange marriage) and it’s always fun to watch old black and white films about rich and famous strangers.

We walked down to the bus stop and this time we knew how gorgeous the views were and could get a few photos. I post them for you to enjoy and daydream over.

Wrapping up our time in France

We didn’t feel we had fully enjoyed everything in Vielle Ville so determined to spend the morning there and the afternoon at the Archeological Museum next to the Matisee Museum. We really love Roman stuff.

The old city is just a few tram stops away from my aunt’s and thus we arrived fairly early in the morning. We hadn’t made it down to the actual seashore the other day. This time we got off at the Opera stop and walked directly there. Well, almost directly, because I had a mission to have a few specialties of Nice that somehow hadn’t yet touched my lips—socca, a chickpea savory pancake, and pan bagnat, basically a Niçoise salad in bread—a truly appealing sandwich, no? Within a few blocks we passed a boulangerie and I ducked in to see wonderful examples in round, thick buns. We figured we would see them again so walked on, but within a few blocks David indulged my sudden need to turn back and buy two. We continued to the “beach,” a rocky shore not at all crowded at the early hour and definitely off-season, and enjoyed the sound of the surf on the rocks and the few bikini’d women, a few dogs, a few families—a pleasant scene.

We had wanted to see a particular cathedral that we didn’t find our previous time in the old city. David, whose phone has the eSIM and hence manages a lot of out maps and lists (I can get on line when we are together and he opens his hot spot) checked his saved map and we left the beach to find the cathedral. As we walked along I spied an intriguing store and, calling out to David I would need a minute, went in without waiting for his acknowledgment. After a nice conversation with the woman and making a purchase I went back out…no David. I figured he had continued on to the cathedral so I opened my phone to looks at the saved map. Well, it had a picture of where the cathedral was, and lots of streets, but not a single street name. Unconcerned I kept walking. No cathedral, no David—but I did see Bistro Antoine where we had eaten a few days prior. I went in, found our waiter, and showed him my phone. Where was this cathedral, please?

Waiter: “Hmmm. A droit, en suite a droit…je pense…” (to the right, then right again, I think).

I follow his vague directions but see no cathedral and no spouse. But I brighten up when three gendarmes walk toward me.

Me: “Pardon, ou est ce cathedrale (I show the picture on my phone) parce que j’ai perdu mon marie!” (Pardon, where is this cathedral because I have lost my husband.)

Gendarme, looking at his colleagues: “Hmmm.”

He takes out his phone, punches away, looks vaguely around, points in a direction up the street, then “Voila!” The cathedral was a half block away. And there was David, too. We laughed, went into the cathedral, and while it was beautiful there were an unusually large number of gruesome paintings featuring martyred saints and the like. We spent five or ten minutes but left as I announced how hungry I was getting.

I had scored our pan bagnats but what about the socca? Happily on our way out of Vielle Ville we spied a counter which sold lots of Nice delicacies including socca. As the young woman packed my order “pour apporter” I noticed a big tray of petits farcis…little stuffed tomatoes, onions, and zucchini. I added them to our picnic.

My rudimentary French again came to our rescue when we couldn’t find the bus stop. Two cordial women in turn steered us right to the correct spot.

The park was perfect, pan bagnat and socca and petits farci were scrumptious, and we loved the small museum filled with Roman artifacts, complete with a meadow out back filled with Roman ruins.

By the time we got back to my aunt’s apartment we didn’t want to go anywhere or see anything. We rustled up a supper of scrambled eggs with our fellow houseguests, Ronnie and Arthene, and collapsed into bed.

**We ate our picnic with a Roman arena in the background!**

i cannot end this last post from France without addressing the sad fracture in our relationship with the Europe that survived World War II largely due to our help. Many Americans died. Many more Europeans died, lost family, friends, communities, almost everything. They have not forgotten—no, they have not let themselves forget—what happened and what we did, what we lost, what we sacrificed.

**One of many subtle memorials to the people who died in WW II.**

You cannot go too far in many places in France without seeing a memorial or a simple plaque like this one. Here fell Jean Badino, a human being, on August 28, 1944, for the liberation of France. Do not forget him. Do not forget that a war was fought here, right here, for our country.

Inescapably Rational

Before you do anything rash, take a walk

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