Paris in the Spring: The City Between the Landmarks
Sometimes the most unforgettable moments in Paris aren’t found in guidebooks. They’re tucked inside a quiet courtyard, drifting from an open bakery window, or waiting in the smile of a child you’ve never met.
There is something almost magical about Paris in May. The city seems to wake gently each morning, sunlight spilling across limestone buildings while café chairs fill with people lingering over coffee. It is impossible not to slow your pace.
Butter, Chocolate and Paris
For two glorious weeks in the spring of 2025, we traded hotel rooms for a charming apartment tucked above Ben’s Cookies. Each morning we woke not to an alarm clock, but to the warm fragrance of fresh cookies baking below us. If happiness has a scent, I believe it may smell like butter, chocolate, and Paris.
From our windows we looked into the courtyard beside Hôtel de Ville, watching the city begin another day while feeling, just for a little while, like we belonged there.
Travel Dreams Realized
Of course, we visited the places every first-time traveler dreams about. We stood beneath the Eiffel Tower and later returned for dinner as the city lights began to sparkle.
We walked through the newly restored Notre-Dame, grateful to witness its beauty once again.
We spent a moving day on the beaches of Normandy, where history feels both distant and heartbreakingly close.
One afternoon carried us to Montmartre, where artists lined the square with easels full of color. We lingered over lunch, purchased paintings to bring a little Paris home with us, and happily surrendered to having our pictures taken with the artists.
Yet the moment I remember most wasn’t the artwork.
Banana Man and Other Adventures
It was a little boy seated nearby, completely captivated by a small toy called Banana Man. I’d never seen one before and haven’t seen one since. While adults hurried from one destination to another, he was entirely content in his own tiny world, smiling at a simple toy. It reminded me that joy often asks very little of us.
Those are the moments I collect.
Metro and Museums
By the middle of the first week, we had learned to navigate the Metro with confidence, hopping on and off trains until we almost felt like locals. We wandered through museums at our own pace—the Marmottan with its breathtaking Impressionist collection, the Louvre where I found myself photographing arches, ceilings, and architectural details as inspiration for future handmade cards, the Cluny Museum with its magnificent medieval tapestries, and the jewel-box beauty of Sainte-Chapelle.
We wandered along the Seine, stopping at the little green bookstalls that have welcomed readers for generations. We browsed Shakespeare & Company, carrying home books that will forever remind us where they were purchased. We squeezed in a quick stop at Café de Flore, explored the sprawling flea markets and antique district, attended an evening at the opera, and smiled for photographs beneath the Olympic rings. I purchased an iconic trench coat on Rue de Clare as a keepsake to wear on all future trips.
Paris rewards curiosity.
One tradition I have whenever I travel is something most people probably never notice. I love photographing windows.
Not the architecture, although Paris certainly offers plenty of beautiful windows. I watch for the people behind them.
Someone reading a book.
Someone watering flowers.
Someone looking out at the tourists passing below.
For just a moment, our worlds intersect. We become part of each other’s stories, even if neither of us ever knows the other’s name.
Perhaps that’s what I loved most about Paris.
Not simply the monuments, the museums, or even the incredible food.
It was discovering that behind every grand boulevard and every famous landmark is an ordinary life being lived. Someone is baking cookies. Someone is hanging laundry. Someone is looking out a window while strangers walk beneath.
And somehow, those quiet, ordinary moments made Paris feel even more extraordinary.
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