Paris

A few months ago, the hubs and I booked a super cheap getaway to Paris for two nights in July. Believe it or not, we had never been on holiday together, let alone been away together without baby in tow. So when we booked the flights, and Colm asked if it could be just the two of us, I went back and forth for weeks about bringing Eli. I've never been away from him for more than one night, so the thought of going away for a few days and to a different country seriously killed me.

In the end, I ended up agreeing with Colm and leaving Eli with my parents. I cried on and off for the rest of the day like an eejit and then cried myself to sleep that night like a complete lunatic...and also called my parents about 43984502 times a day while we were gone. I know that sounds totally crazy to you non parents but I spend all my time with that wee plum and the thought of not being there for him really was gut-wrenching.

Luckily, Paris was amazing enough to distract me from Eli-thoughts (most of the time). I'd been a couple times before, but with parents or on a school trip so it wasn't quite the same! Our time was limited so we couldn't do everything on our wishlist, but we got the main sights in as well as the must-do when you go to Paris: lounge around outside a cafe, drinking coffee and people watching. The best.

Anyone who knows me knows that I am suuuuper organized. I write lists of lists of lists, and research any place I'm traveling to etc. So I was really focused on time management etc when we were there...and of course my husband is the polar opposite of that. So when he suggested we go out for a few cocktails on our last night, I was immediately like, "No way. I don't want to be tired/hungover tomorrow, I want to enjoy our last day in Paris, I don't want to travel home exhausted, etc." Well, at about 9pm, I felt really guilty for keeping him from what he wanted to do while we were there, so I just said, "Y'know what, let's go out," got dressed, put on za makeup, and headed to the nearest 'going out' district, which happened to be Rue de Lappe. We went into one of the first bars there, told someone we were Irish, and next thing we knew the bartender was handing us shots of something very green and very minty, on the house. Of course after that I was like, "WOoo let's party," to which the bartender responded, "Not on a Monday night we won't. All the bars here close around midnight on a Monday." I cried a little inside.

We had to head home because they were closing very shortly after that, but decided to walk down just a liiiitle further to see if any other bars were open. As it happened, there was  a massive R'n'B club that was open until, apparently, 4am. We met the nicest group of guys from Manchester (hi guys!!) that were inter-railing through Europe. Safe to say, the next few hours were somewhat messy, however extremely fun, and we finished up sitting on a Parisian side walk, watching the sunrise over a gothic church. It was pretty perfect. The next morning, I woke up with plastic spoons, Samurai crackers, and a lemon in my purse. All signs of a good night, I think.

The next day was spent doing some more sightseeing, drinking (lots) of coffee, and sweating profusely on sardine-packed metro trains. We saw the Eiffel tower, took a nap on the grass underneath it, cooled our throbbing heads in the Trocadero fountain, and took in the awe-inspiring sight that is the Arc de Triumph.

Paris, you were exceptional. We love you and will be back soon.

Being cultured.

Being tired.

A love lock for our love

Notre Dame