Our Paris trip definitely had a bell curve to it. Travel was long and we were arrived tired and in need of some serious sleep. The next few days got better and better and Thursday was definitely our favorite day of the trip. We were comfortable traveling around the city by metro, we were comfortable speaking in French, and each day was more and more fun.

We set an alarm for the first time that week and got up and ready for our trip to the Musee d’Orsay. I was excited to see some of the Impressionist paintings that I have always loved, especially Monet, Degas, and Renoir – all housed in an old train station that had its own unique beauty.

We passed the Musee d’Orsay earlier in the week on Tuesday and were surprised to see the lines extending far beyond the velvet maze of ropes. So we decided to wake early, grab a quick croissant, and head to the Museum for its opening time of 9:30 to beat the tour groups. We arrived at 9:20 and only 15 people were ahead of us in line (I later realized that the Museum is far busier on Tuesdays than any other day of the week because the Louvre is closed on Tuesdays).

The Museum was great. The first two levels featured statues, paintings, and some furniture and special exhibits. You could see some remnants of the old train station it used to be: a beautiful golden clock; a long, and narrow passageway in the center; and an amazing, glass ceiling.  I was surprised that levels 3 and 4 didn’t exist and the 5th and final floor housed the Impressionist paintings, but was far smaller than the other floors.

I couldn’t have been happier seeing the Impressionist paintings. There are so many I admire and it was amazing seeing them in person, instead of in a book. I took lots of selfies with the paintings because I am lame, and then we marveled at the famous clock that you can look out through that overlooks the Seine River.

I had expected the Museum to take more time, but we were done by 11:30. We tried once again to find Cafe Flore, but were again unsuccessful, so we grabbed lunch somewhere else and then decided to go to Sacre Coeur. I hadn’t read much on the area, just heard it was a pretty amazing place to visit for the views of the city, so we were pleasantly surprised by the area of Montmartre, which was full of narrow, cobblestone streets, and stairs leading up to the famous church on the hill. Surrounding the church was an area full of artists, shops, and restaurants. There were windows in most of the cafes selling crepes, one of the many foods on our wish list that we had yet to taste. We walked to the church first and again marveled at the beauty of the city it overlooked and of the church itself. We walked back through the maze of shops in the little alleyways, searching for a painting to bring home, some souvenirs for family members, and crepes. Honestly, it was hard to pass up what seemed to be the standard cuisine of mussels and frites that every local was eating in the cafes we passed, but once I had my first bite of crepes avec sucre (crepes with sugar), I was instantly transported to being at my grandmother’s house as a little girl. My French Canadian grandmother made my sister and I crepes most mornings we slept at her house, either sprinkled with sugar or maple syrup. We sat on a curb eating our warm crepes and people-watching in this cool, little corner of Paris.

While shopping a little while later, another cool thing happened on this fabulous day: I had my first full transaction in French at a store. I wasn’t instantly taken for a tourist. The shopkeeper spoke to me in French and I understood and was able to respond back in French. My confidence for speaking French skyrocketed after this interaction!

We continued wandering down the winding streets, going in and out of stores, and happily finding many souvenirs in this artistic area. However, at some point, we ended up in a strange, garment district area. There were stores and stores full of fabrics. And when we turned the corner back to the main road, we were in a super sketchy area. Lots of people were on the street trying to sell stolen items. Some guy flashed some Chanel perfume at me from his pockets. It was just odd. So back to Rue de Grenelle on the Metro and another local dinner.